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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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What is this Fuzzy Feeling? Part 3

Hello anon! This is for you! I am very surprised that you all like this little series! If it gains popularity, I will continue it. I would like to thank my new followers! I haven't been active on here because I am still in school and right now; it is kicking my butt. Anyway, I will fix the grammar errors later. For now, enjoy this fluffy fic!

Part 1 Part 2

The sound of each rain droplet hitting against the window seal felt ever so pleasant. The shine from the night sky somehow cast a beautiful gleam of light through my bedroom window. Inside my dorm room were a few Pumpkin Spice candles lit in each corner being dispersed. The smell of pumpkin pie filled my nostrils as I placed a piece in my mouth. I usually despised Pumpkin Pie, but after seeing my roommates partake in some, I decided I’d try it.

Summer is my favorite season. Every year for the last 23 years, I’d go to the carnival with my family, roller skate, go to the state fair, and just about any family fun venue in our state. The warm air always made me feel wonderful, but at the end of August, I could always sense a change in temperature. My mood would shift because school was starting again and that meant the weather would progressively be worse. Goodbye summer nights; I wish the fall would stay away. I only somewhat enjoy fall because I have someone to “keep me warm”. It is “hoodie season” and god knows I need a lot of them, but who wants to pay $50+ for a single hoodie? The additional light from each lightning strike added an odd romantic feeling to the atmosphere. I suddenly longed for my boyfriend’s presence.

“I’m so cold,” I silently said to myself.

A playlist of soft piano jazz played in the background as I laid vertically on my bed. I felt a sense of accomplishment as I completed all of my chemistry work for the week and passed both of my tests. Good things are coming my way. Opening a manga to where I left off, I read rather quickly. I often use a technique I learned in 1st grade, a “picture walk”. A Picture Walk comprises viewing images a chapter at a time and then reading the pages. This way, I can digest both the imagery and dialogue. So far, everything was flowing perfectly; the sound of the rain was steady, the smell of pumpkins became subtle as the lightning picked up speed. As comfortable as the air was, it tempted me to fall asleep, but the lingering thought of being embraced in my boyfriend’s arms kept me awake. Still, the thought of taking a brief nap overtook my brain. What felt like a 2-minute nap was actually a 3-hour snooze.

Throughout my slumber, the music continued to play and the smell of pumpkin pie continued to thrive, making me feel as if I was sleeping on clouds. Midway through my siesta, my heart fluttered. The fluttering sensation happened every minute and somehow made me feel delightful, but nothing came to mind why this happened. My trance slowly lightened as I could feel little soft movements on my skin. I could feel soft skin touching my neck and shoulder, sending slight shivers down my spine. The skin in those areas felt wet and lukewarm and yet I still didn’t awake from my sleep…. completely. Although I was fully aware of the events that were happening, I pretended to be asleep so the arousing sensation could continue. Just as I was about to wake up (because I couldn’t stop myself from jerking), soft skin met the top of my thigh, causing me to jerk and lose control. I already knew what this would have led to and even though I was not opposed to the idea, my roommate was going to return in one hour.

“I knew you were awake! You’re a horrible faker,” Hisoka said. His sharp nails scratched every inch of my body, sending shivers down my spine once again. His warm breath bounced against my neck as he pressed more kisses against the soft skin. The nails on his fingers were sharp indeed, but the fingertips were much softer than expected. Warm butterfly smooches against my cheek and the warmth of my skin made it seem like I was melting into a puddle. The smooth pads of his fingers made small circles on my waist and his long nails grazed my thighs. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care if he ripped off my shirt.

“What got you in such a cheerful mood?”

“Well, I’ve been studying all day and passed my finance midterm, so I figured I come here and celebrate!”

“Really? That’s great! I’m proud of you, babe!”

“I’m proud of myself. There were moments when I was too distracted and had to take a break.”

“Trust me, I understand. Don’t feel bad. Taking mental breathers is encouraged.”

“The workload wasn’t the problem”— the force of his forehead pinned against mine forced the back of my head to slam against the pillow. I firmly pressed my nose against his while his lips weren’t even an inch away— “the thought of your godlike nude body against mine nearly drove me wild. Devouring every bit of you is my goal. I’m sure you’ll be more than satisfied.”

A wave of heat swept over my face and in between my thighs, a blush being plastered all over. My ears were on fire! Oddly enough, I usually entertained Hisoka’s assertive passes, but this time, it was different. The hungry look in his eyes made my heart stop, my bones felt stiff, and left my eyes wide. I often have arousing dreams that involved him and me, but I am too afraid to partake in such an act. The fear of being interrupted stopped me every time.

“I—I—,” stuttering like a fool, I continued to stare into his golden orbs.

“What’s the matter, kitten? Cat’s got your tongue?”

Before I could respond, his lips gently placed two individual kisses on mine. His right index finger slid in between my chest and down my stomach. Knowing that I could melt like a stick of butter just by a single touch is something that I’m not proud of but have come to terms with.

“C-Can we just cuddle? I miss your warmth.”

“Of course, darling! That’s all you had to say.”

Hisoka’s arrogant chuckle made me blush more. He knew how I truly felt and admired how I controlled my impulsive feelings. Cuddling was on my do-to list, anyway.

The cold fall breeze seeped through the glass. I must have been shivering and didn’t realize it. At one point, I propped my head up using my forearm, and in another; Hisoka pulled me closer, leaving my head on my sheets instead of the pillow. His right arm was wrapped tightly around my torso while he pressed his nose against the back of my head. He gently placed two loving kisses on my lower neck in response to me placing my arm on top of his. The warmth radiating off our bodies made the entire room cozy; making my eyes flutter once again. The sounds of our steady breaths, the feeling of our synchronized heartbeats, and the warmth of our bodies felt heavenly. A few thoughts raced through my mind and caused me to wonder: “What is this fuzzy feeling?”

“I’m warming your heart,” Hisoka replied, stretching his body. “You broke my ice-cold heat and, who knows, you might have some tendencies of your own. Maybe that’s why we attract.”

As I slowly drifted off to sleep, the candles were blown out, the music stopped, and the rain came to a standstill. I lifted my head and saw that my roommate was fast asleep. Everything seemed to be frozen in its tracks except for my running thoughts. Nothing but a frightening phrase haunted my mind.

“You broke my ice-cold heat and, who knows, you might have some tendencies of your own. Maybe that’s why we attract.”

The morning sun’s rays shined through my bedroom windows, casting a godly glow on Hisoka’s face. I turned on my left side and, to my surprise, I nearly squealed at such a beauty. The sunlight pushed shadows away from Hisoka’s face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones, long eyelashes, and his lips. The softened expression made my heart do backflips as even a strong, prominent man can have soft moments. I smiled contently as I took a moment to realize how lucky I was.

The tip of my index finger traced the dip of his eyebrows to the shape of his nose and all around his face. My small index finger made its way to his right arm, tracing his muscles. Just as I was going to explore thigh muscles, he bats his eyes twice and smiled.

“Good morning, kitten. Did you sleep well?” he said, his voice deep and sluggish.

“It was amazing. Thank you for keeping me warm.”

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porkchop-ao3 · 3 years

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A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 65)

“I Miss You”

It’s been so long again, at this point I think it’s expected 😅 Anyway, I’m here and I’m bringing smut! I have my ending all planned out now so hopefully it wont be so long until the next chapter, but I’m not promising! 😬😅😘 Enjoy!

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Between the pages of his journal I smiled, I pouted, I frowned, I slept, I had a picture for every emotion it seemed. The drawings were sometimes accompanied by little notes about what happened that day, and gave clues about why he drew me in such a way.

We spoke about Isaac today… it seems Dutch still hasn't figured out how to knock on a door... O'Driscolls found our camp, damn near slit her throat… I hope her dreams take her away from this god awful place…

I couldn't bring myself to read much of what he wrote. Just the first few words. I felt like I was invading his privacy a little too much, even if he did write about me. But as I moved through the journal I noticed that his drawings became different. The first few were portraits, mostly, and they pertained to a story from the day, almost like illustrations in the book of his life. But as it went on, the words disappeared and I found pages of studies, drawings of hands and lips and feet, different features and body parts like diagrams in a biology encyclopedia. Sometimes the same thing would be drawn three or four times. A mouth, in varying stages of completion, as if he kept giving up halfway through and starting again until he reached the final drawing, which was more complete.

I thought nothing of it at first. Practice, I guessed. But I noticed a few things that made me realise that I was looking at my own features. I realised it when I noticed the expanse of a neck leading up to a chin, and there was the scar given to me by the O'Driscolls. I saw a pair of hands holding my own Schofield revolver. I saw a pair of crossed ankles wrapped in boots the tips of which had scuffs in exactly the same place as my own boots did. The pages and pages of what I thought was anatomy practice was all of me.

Then my cheeks burned in a streak all the way up to the tips of my ears when I turned one page and was confronted with a drawing of my own body, laying naked atop sheets I recognised from our hotel room in Saint Denis. I was not posed in an artificial manner, I was sprawled, laying on my side with one knee hitched up, my arm laying limply on my waist. I was asleep. My heart pounded because there I was, as naked as the day I was born, and I'd never seen myself like that from such a perspective.

"You didn't say you'd drawn this," I breathed dumbly, then turned the book to show him. His eyes widened a little and his face immediately began to redden.

"I'm sorry, I'll toss it on the fire if I shouldn't have–"

"No, I don't want that at all. It's a surprise, that's all," I smiled.

"That day you said you'd like to be drawn like that so I… when you was sleeping I thought you looked real beautiful, so I drew that. I had every intention of showing you when you woke up but then I–" he paused and exhaled a laugh, "in the light of day, I just felt like a pervert."

I tutted and rolled my eyes playfully, "you're not a pervert, Arthur. You're the love of my life."

Something about it seemed to startle him, he looked at me suddenly, his mouth twitched. Then he smiled.

"You really mean that?"

"Is it only just sinking in how much I love you?" I chuckled.

I put the sketchbook aside then leaned down over him, sunk my chest to his and kissed his lips, framing his head with my arms to hold me up and not put my weight on him while he was still recovering from the wound on his torso. He pulled at my arm and patted my leg, encouraging me to swing a thigh over so my legs settled either side of his hips. His arms encircled my waist as he kissed me back, humming softly against my mouth, his chest subconsciously arching up to press more firmly against mine as if he wanted to feel the way my heart would beat when we kissed. It would always race, no doubt about it.

Our lips parted enough for him to whisper; "so, what do you think of that drawing?"

"I think you made me look good, thank you," I chuckled softly.

"I didn't make you look anything, that's just how you are, princess. I don't think I even fully managed to capture how incredible you looked that night," he whispered, sending warmth to my cheeks and my ears. His hands slid over my waist, rested low on my hips and I welcomed the feeling of his hands on me and closed my eyes, pressing my lips to his again.

I was so very tempted to get carried away, absorbed in the taste of his tongue and the sound of his breaths picking up and the smell of him so close in the confined space of the tent and– I pressed our foreheads together and broke the kiss.

"You should sleep, you got a lot going on," I began and a sound came from Arthur's throat that was almost like a scolded dog.

"I got too much going on to sleep right now," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine before he bared his teeth to give my bottom lip a cheeky nip.

"It'll keep you awake?"

"Mm," he hummed a lazy affirmation, "plus there ain't a part of my body that's ready to sleep now you been sitting on top o' me like this."

"Arthur," I breathed a laugh and kissed him again. His hands came from my hips to my backside, holding me and encouraging me to put more weight on him. I was worried about hurting him but his goal was apparent when he positioned me such that he could show me a part of him that was very much awake. "Are you crazy?" I laughed.

"Most likely, at this point," he muttered, hips shifting below me, as if eager to grind.

"After all that's happened these past few days, with that hole in your side– with the tatters of the gang just outside–"

"I don't care about any of that, princess, I miss you," he cut me off with a breathy whisper, and one hand came up to cup the back of my head, and he hugged me tight to him. My face naturally nestled into the space between his shoulder and his neck and he hummed a quiet sound when my lips kissed him there on their own.

"You miss me?" I questioned, words muffled but audible.

"Being in your embrace. In every sense, not just your arms. My love–" his words came out with just a little bit more emotion than he must've intended, given the sharp cut off he gave them. My heart dripped with a bittersweet warmth that settled in my belly. It wasn't exactly arousal that I felt, it was a sudden ache, an emptiness, a need. One that ought to be filled as quick as it appeared and could only be filled in one way.

I moved without hesitation, gathering my skirts, moving the fabric out of the way, scooping it into a pile and hugging it to my hip as I sat up. Movement pulled at the wounds on my legs but it didn't hurt in the moment. Or maybe I was healing quicker than I thought. But three hands descended upon Arthur's belt, and we worked together to open it up and free the buttons of his trousers. He hadn't anything on underneath his jeans – his last good union suit ruined by the gunshot in his side – so closing my hand around his hard length was an easy task. I thumbed the head and shifted the skin back and forth, earning a hiss of pleasure and a few moments later, a flow of clear stuff that I smeared, knowing the extra lubricant would help.

Then I let him go and brought my fingers to my tongue, coating them generously in spit that I then passed between my folds. This was happening spontaneously enough that I'd appreciate the help, but my own arousal was beginning to slick me enough so that when I lowered down–

"Jesus Christ–" Arthur gasped. He held his cock for me as I took him in, inching slowly down until I was settled, my insides hugging hım entirely. Something akin to the growl of a timber wolf built in Arthur's throat as he adjusted to the heat of my body, and his hands settled on the space between my hips and my thighs with a tight grip that put indentations in my flesh.

I wasn't planning on making this a slow and lengthy affair and I was quick to start moving, rolling my hips back and forth and guiding his cock in and out. The slow pull, rub of the tip passing over the most pleasurable spot inside me took my breath away and urged my movements to become more frantic. It was happening quickly, we were moving fast, Arthur's hands pushed and pulled and helped my motion with just as much vigor as the pace I had set. The tent bounced our breathless sounds back to my ears and somewhere in my mind I hoped that they couldn't be heard on the other side of it.

I wasn't ashamed enough to stop, however, even if they could be.

I pulsed and squeezed around his cock and Arthur released shaky little grunts, strangled sounds that wanted to be louder, I could tell. But he did a good job of keeping the volume down and I was hell bent on doing the same. I bit down on my bottom lip, trapping it between my teeth almost painfully. It tingled and I thought of when Arthur had nipped me there before and a moan threatened to escape.

"Let– let me see you, please, princess," his words were clipped and breathless, coming out in short and jerky bursts as one of his hands reached for the buttons on my blouse. I sat up and shakily unbuttoned them down to the waist of my skirt, and I pulled on the drawstrings that gathered the fabric of my corset cover until it opened up to reveal my corset and chemise.

It was far too spontaneous of a situation for me to fully undress and show myself but it seemed just the sight of my underthings was enough to rile him up. A tightly tethered moan just barely left his lips and his large hand roughly skimmed up the front of my corset, over the smooth material and firm boning, until he reached the top where my breasts were lifted, giving him enough of the soft flesh to grab at. He cupped one breast and gave a gentle squeeze over my chemise and the warmth of his hand through the fabric had me arching towards him. It changed the angle of his cock inside me and I gasped, my own hand flying down between my legs to rub and chase my orgasm.

"I'm almost there," he stammered breathlessly, his head clawing back into the sheets of his bedroll, his long hair messily splaying out like a halo above his head. I slipped my free hand between the buttons of his shirt and kept my hand in the warmth. My fingers skimmed sideways and I found his nipple, rubbing over it thoughtlessly and receiving a buck of his hips and a slackening of his jaw in response. He was going to cum and unless I wanted him to do it inside me, I knew I had to do something.

I quickly lifted my hips and wrapped my hand around his cock, keeping it nestled warmly between my thighs as I jerked him quickly. He moaned once, only once but it was a loud and thoughtless one that could absolutely be heard by anyone who happened to be awake. But he clamped his own hand over his mouth as he spilled, marking my thighs and his own body, his seed flowing down until it was caught in the hair surrounding the base of his cock. My hand was slick with the stuff and the wet sounds of its motion was almost as loud as Arthur's moan but I kept going anyway, until I could wind him down and slow to a stop.

He panted with exhaustion despite having been laid back the whole time, and I smirked down at him, letting out a tiny laugh. His eyes peeled open and up to me, his long lashes catching the light of the lantern and glowing a brassy blonde.

"I finished too quick for you, didn't I, my darlin'?" He said, his tone a little playful and a little more self deprecating than I liked to hear. I rolled my eyes a little but he reached between my legs, ever so gently rubbing at my folds, coating his fingers in my wetness before finding my favourite position over my clit.

I shuddered and sagged forwards a bit, holding myself up with arms either side of his broad shoulders. His fingers rubbed me rhythmically and quick, quickening my breaths and heart rate. My orgasm had been fast approaching before we stopped and he easily brought me back to the brink, and I mewled softly under my breath, tilting my hips to lean into his hand as he whispered to me.

"That's it princess, let me see you cum," he said, "show me them pretty eyes," he added, and I lifted my gaze to him. In the low light, his eyes appeared a darker blue than they usually did, looking deeper and hungrier than I had seen in a while. So full of want and love that I wanted to kiss him, but I was close to my climax and I was soon too distracted to get my body to move.

"I'm gonna cum," I breathed, my hips fidgeting, almost rutting. Arthur made a low, vibrating hum deep in his chest that sounded deliciously indulgent and dirty. He sped up the circles he made on my clit and the pleasure built. It built and built until it peaked, and with a gasp my body shook as my orgasm exploded. He rubbed me through it, prolonging the pleasure as I breathed heavily, and try as I might to keep quiet, small mewles of pleasure escaped me as my hips rocked against his hand.

I leaned over him, my hands holding me up above his head, his eyes followed me, fingers still sliding through the wetness between my legs. He had a small smirk on his face, just a flash of his teeth exposed. I exhaled a small laugh through my nose at the expression, it was almost a proud one, pleased with himself. I leaned down and kissed him once, but his free hand pressed into my belly and pushed me slightly.

"Don't mess your shirt up," he warned in a whisper, and I was reminded of the mess we'd made. In the distance, I heard the rushing sound of a geyser erupting, and I could've laughed at the timing.

"Yeah, let's clean up," I nodded. Arthur exhaled heavily, reaching into his satchel to retrieve a handkerchief stained with gun oil, using it to mop away the mess on his belly and fingers. I took it from him and cleaned my own hands, making a plan in my head to heat up some water for us in the morning to clean up properly before Arthur left to run his errands. For now though, it would have to do, and I adjusted my clothes and rolled off of him, settling in beside him.

"Thank you, princess," he exhaled, his eyes closing as he rested a hand over the wound on his side delicately.

"Thank you?" I chuckled.

"I needed that," he added, and I watched the corner of his mouth lift.

"Yeah, I think I did too," I laughed softly, and took hold of his other hand where it lay beside me.

"What a God damn mess we're all in," he laughed as well. It was like he was too tired and too at ease in the afterglow to take any of our recent problems seriously.

"Just a few days and we'll be gone sweetheart, don't you worry about it," I told him anyway, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah. Just a few days," he repeated.

I lifted his hand to my mouth, pressing kisses over his knuckles, each finger, the side of his wrist… his breaths were steadying out and I kissed him until he fell asleep, the weight of his hand increasing as it grew limp in mine.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #atink #rdr2fanfic #arthurmorganfanfic #reader insert

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faulty-writes · 3 years

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Headcanons for Izuku, Tamaki and Mirio developing an instant attraction and HUGE crush for the new student at U.A., Mt. Lady's younger sister. But she's incredibly bitter because she couldn't make it into the hero course - because y/n doesn't have the same quirk as her older sister. She has the opposite - she shrinks until she's just six and a half inches tall and is chibi-fied. She HATES her quirk so much, but she wanted to go to U.A. anyway, at least so it'd look good on her application.

Izuku was naturally curious, which is why when he heard a student in the school was related to the pro hero, Mt.Lady. He made it his new mission to track them down, “This will be a great chance to take notes on how Mt.Lady’s quirk works and from someone who actually knows her!” he said to himself, notebook and pencil in hand ready to write down all he could.

Once he found you, after confirming with others that you were indeed Mt.Lady’s sister, he walked up to you. “H-Hi!” he said nervously, “My name is Izuku M-Midoriya a-and-” he suddenly stopped speaking when you turned around to face him. You were about to ask if he was okay when you saw his cheeks turning red. But decided against it when you noticed he began to back away from you.

Though you still saw him around, his face always buried in that book of his. He was always writing something down, this was true for the most part. However, you were unaware that as of late. Izuku was admiring you from a distance. Carefully studying your movements and thinking of how he could possibly talk to you again. You had caught his interest in more than one way but he felt as though he blew his first chance away.

In the meantime, in the comfort of his own dorm. He would sit at his desk with his notebook open. Carefully adding the finishing details to the several drawings he had made of you, “I c-couldn’t possibly tell her how I feel, could I? I mean it’s logical to like her but how would I even t-tell her?” he questioned out loud, could he even get near the sibling of a pro hero? He didn’t exactly like the idea of Mt.Lady coming after him.

Still, Izuku couldn’t help but want to get close to you. As a hero, he knew he had to swallow down his fears. So, he once more found you and though his heart was racing, he politely bowed. “I-I’m Izuku Midoriya, from uh, w-well, I’m sorry about the f-first time I t-tried to talk to you. But um,” he glanced away a moment, “Would you mind if I a-ask you for an i-interview? I’d like to k-know more about your quirk and m-maybe Mt.Lady’s?” though you didn’t like being constantly reminded of your sister, you found yourself agreeing to the interview.

Of course, it came as a surprise to Izuku that you claimed you hated your quirk. Unlike your sister, you could only shrink. But, watching Izuku shake his head and begin to disagree with you. That was new, “T-That’s amazing! You h-have such a t-tactical quirk! The possibilities of w-what you can do a-are endless!” he claimed as he quickly wrote down some that came to mind. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he joking?

But, come to find out. He wasn’t, in fact, he made it a point to show you his notes. Pages upon pages were filled with ideas on how to adapt your quirk for heroism. However, you weren’t expecting to see sketches of yourself. Though they weren’t that good, it was oddly flattering. When you asked Izuku about them, he only blushed in response. Frantically moving his arms around and stuttering out an explanation. You couldn’t help but laugh, suddenly he didn’t seem so strange.

There were many amazing and strange sights in this super powered world. But, by far the strangest thing you witnessed was a member of The Big Three walk straight into a locker. You thought his name was Amajiki and you had locked eyes with him in the hallway. As a result, the boy didn’t see the open locker and well...you decided to scurry away rather than apologize or make sure he was okay.

But, what you didn’t know. Is that as shy as Tamaki is, he tended to share everything with his friends Mirio and Nejire. He talked about how he saw you in the hallway and how he couldn’t exactly look away. He left out the part about the locker. “Oh yeah! I know who she is, I think,” Mirio said as he looked to Nejire who smiled excitedly. “Her name is Y/n! Mt.Lady’s little sister, can you believe it!?” Tamaki’s eyes widened, oh God.

He was even more surprised when he found you were in General Studies, then again being a hero was too much pressure. All eyes on you, people cheering your name, it made him anxious just thinking about it. But, still. He wanted to at least try to talk to you, especially after you had locked eyes in the hallway. But every time he tried to say something to you. His stomach would twist into so many knots, it’d make him nauseous and he’d end up running away.

But, when he stared at you from a distance. He felt butterflies instead and his cheeks would turn red. Was it strange he found himself liking you? He had never really thought about someone as much as he did you, Mirio aside of course. Still, he wished he had the courage to talk to you. But he knew he would never and honestly, it made him feel like a bit of a failure. Why couldn’t he be brave like others?

Meanwhile, you felt bad you had made him walk into a locker. So you made it your goal to track him down and finally apologize, maybe get to know him. When you walked up to him, he had his back to you. Though you should have taken into account that when you reached up to touch his shoulder combined with a loud “Hey,” he would get scared. Though it was interesting to see his quirk slip and you couldn’t help but giggle as you saw his tentacles get stuck to the lockers.

From then on, he seemed to blush every single time he was near you. Though you had tried to strike up a casual conversation. The way Tamaki glanced down and stuttered out his words was almost too adorable for words. It was a privilege to slowly learn more about the timid Big Three member. Of course, you couldn’t resist reaching over to pat his head on occasion. He’d always look at you with those big indigo eyes and lean away.

Mirio always encouraged him to tell you how he felt, though Tamaki wasn’t sure if confessing was a good idea. Mostly because he couldn’t handle the thought of rejection. The fact that you were related to Mt.Lady was also a problem, he didn’t want you to think that he liked you because of your lineage. “I t-think I’m uh...f-fine liking t-them from a d-d-distance, I...I’m j-just, I-I’m happy if uh, w-we’re just friends,” he confessed, maybe one day he’d get you to see how he felt about you. But that day wasn’t today.

Mirio wasn’t sure how he didn’t know this, there had been talk of a transfer student. The rumor was that they had been placed in the Department of Support. When he asked around, he learned that they were transferred from another school because of their older sister who happened to be Mt.Lady. “Really? Wow, that must cool!” heck if Mirio had a sibling who was a pro hero he’d be psyched.

So of course, Mirio had to seek you out. After all, he couldn’t pass up meeting the new student. Of course, he had to ask around again and eventually found you in the Development Studio. “Hi, there! I heard you're the new transfer student! Name’s Mirio Togata! It’s nice to meet you!” of course he didn’t expect you to walk away as he extended his hand out. Hm, weird.

Still, your cold attitude wouldn’t make him stay away. In fact, Mirio made it his personal mission to get to know you. This means whenever he saw you, he’d walk over and plop down next to you. “Hi! I’m sorry if I offended you before, but I think you’re super cool and I’d totally like to get to know you!” he said with a big grin, of course, you were a little suspicious. But Mirio turned out to be a sweet guy and you ended up enjoying your conversation with him.

In fact, you accidentally slipped about your feelings relating to your sister. Honestly, you hated that people expected you to follow the same path or just wanted to be your friend because you were related to Mt.Lady “Hm, well that’s okay! I want to get to know you for you. Just know I’d never try to hurt you and hey if you want to be a hero! Cool, I’ll support you. If not, I’m here for you,” of course, he didn’t expect to make you laugh, but either way. He felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of it.

The more you hung out with him, the more you discovered how encouraging he could be. “Come on please! Just once! I’ve shown you my quirk, so, please. I promise I won’t make fun of it,” he said and you sighed, you honestly didn’t want to show him. But nonetheless, you shrunk down to your six and a half-inch stature and nearly gasped when Mirio picked you up in his hand, grinning like a mad man. “You’re so cute!” he commented and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fact you were blushing.

Still, you enjoyed Mirio’s company. Though you hadn’t expected him to ask you out, that was strange. “Aw, come on! Look!” Mirio grinned as he pulled out a bundle of flowers, you looked at them wide-eyed and confused. But nonetheless, reached out to take them. “Um thanks?” you replied before he grinned. “Of course! Anything for the gal I’ve been crazy about,” he said, nearly making you jump in surprise.

#izuku x reader #mirio x reader #tamaki x reader #Anonymous

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tree-wizard · 3 years

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White Night Fantasy

@promiseddifferent @roseprincess1994

My second fic! I got insanely carried away with this one and wrote like 7 pages of Scroldie just laying bed????

Anyways, this takes place right after that implied Prisoner of White Agony Creek scene. So lots of mention of sex but nothing explicit in any way. Lots of introspection and fluff.

I was very intentional with the way I wrote Goldie passages vs Scrooge passages but no one is probably even going to notice.

Title is a Nightwish reference as always. The lyrics of that whole song are perfect.

And oh I made both Scrooge and Goldie Demi .... BEACUSE I CAN HEHEHEH

Goldie starred up into the darkness. She’d gotten a bit carried away in the last hour but now she had to focus on what this had all been for. The nugget. She started to run through different plans but then suddenly stopped. She’d already stolen it. She’d literally had it in her hands last night. Along with the rest of the lockbox with its deed. That was the whole reason why she even let him take her to this isolated barren place. He was knocked out, she had a ride to Dawson, it was more perfect than she could have imagined. But then she saw a curl of her golden hair. The one he’d stare at every night. And she came back. She came back.

Had the sex been for no reason then? She’d always had a reason. Money, future favors, stolen treasure, something. It was always pleasurable once she was in the depth of it but she never had the urge to do it just because. But this time was different. She actually longed for it, without having anything to gain. Except him. She’d longed to have his rough hands move over her body, to have his lips bless her, to feel his breath. She’d never felt like this about anyone before and had no idea sex could be like this.

And in the midst of it all she wasn’t thinking about angles. She wasn’t plotting future moves. All that had matter was being with him. Her defenses had lowered. The defenses she’d gotten so used too, she forgot that they were even there, that she had existed at some point without them. But, oddly, she hadn’t felt exposed. It had felt natural, she felt present and secure. It had just felt right somehow.

And now he was in her bed with her. Wait, no, she was the one who was in his bed. She passed her hand over the wood. His bed. It just dawned on her that he had slept where she lay every single night before she was here. He broke his back over the same stiff wooden frame, held the same blankets tightly to his shivering huddled body. The heat of the stove would warmly embrace his legs, making him relax his shoulders after a long day of work and convincing him to give into the awaiting rest. What did he think of—those days when he wasn’t too exhausted to think at all as she was sure was the case most nights—before slumber overtook him? His family back in Scotland? All his past travels and endeavors? The fortune he wished to find? Did he face the wall or the open room? Did he squirm in his sleep a lot? What dreams did he have, if any?

Did his spirit linger all the days she slept here? He’d always been with her in that case but now he was actually here. They were sharing the bed. In a sense it was theirs. That felt bittersweet for some reason. As if she knew she was lying to herself and she had to forget about such stupid fantasies and grow up. But she pushed the uneasy sense to the back of her mind and tried to focus instead on the warm comfort spreading through her. Their bed.

Scrooge lay in bed waiting to cool off and catch his breath. The rush of the last hour was settling down, leaving his head clear for reflection. The contentment was turning into nervousness as he realized that she was lying only a few inches away.

He had a hard time believing what had just happened. It felt like his whole world had shifted slightly and now everything was slightly off. He presumed that it was actually a pretty normal thing and something that typically happened much earlier than thirty. But it never really crossed his mind at any point in his life. He didn’t care for women, or anyone for that matter, before. He couldn’t understand why other men would go all googly eyed and waste their money on random bar girls. Why would they go crazy at seeing a woman with slightly lifted skirts. He didn’t pay attention to all the dance hall girls in Dawson and that’s probably why he could work besides Goldie whereas any other man would probably be losing their mind the whole time.

But as the days working next to Goldie had passed, he’d felt an unusual twisting warmth take up a home at the bottom of his stomach. He wanted to reach out to Goldie whenever he looked at her lately. He wanted to be near her. Wanted to have that warmth envelope her too. He would heat up when she kissed him and he burned when she went further than that. He didn’t know what was going on with his body. Why was it betraying him, now after thirty years?

He used to think that if he ignored it, it would go away, but it had only grown, the warmth spreading through his whole body. He used to want to get rid of it but now he didn’t mind that much. He’d felt so much relief and pleasure when they made love. He felt special and he liked to see her enjoyment too. He wanted to be with her.

It seemed that everything around him stopped when she kissed him. There was only mindless passion. The hard exterior he kept up, especially around her, and all his doubts about himself and her all disappeared. But now that they were done, Scrooge didn't know what was going to happen. Were they just going to wake up tomorrow and go back to their constant bickering, eyes filled with rage? Had it all just been some weird slip up?

Or worse, had it all been a trap? Maybe all that just happened was just a way for her to seem innocent, to make it look like she cared for him, to spin his head so that she’d have time to run away with his gold. He didn’t drink her coffee, her poison, earlier that day so this was plan B. Using her seductive powers to enchant unsuspecting men just long enough to steal their gold was her specialty. She was a siren, ready to drag men that passed her into deep dark waters. He’d already fallen for it once and he’d always curse himself for that.

Except he didn’t feel too bad about it now for some reason. NO NO! He had been foolish and he couldn’t let it happen again. He wasn’t like all those other men. He couldn’t show any kind of care for her. That would be giving in. She’d know she had him in her grasp. He was smarter than the smarties, tougher than the toughies, sharper than the sharpies. He had to be.

But he felt his cheeks warming up. Maybe the need to constantly mask his feelings wasn’t just because he needed to keep her from having an advantage over him. Maybe it was easier to pretend that he hated her than to confront the reality: she hadn’t only been able to do the impossible and turn him on, he had truly fallen for her. Find gold, send money to his family, make his fortune. That’s all he planned for, all he had focused on for the last two decades. This was not part of the plan. He couldn’t get distracted when he was finally so close to reaching his goals.

And yet simply going back to the way things were and pretending that this night never happened seemed impossible. He could just tell her to leave tomorrow morning.

But could he just let her go like that? Make her leave? Never see her again? Remain in this infinite loneliness?

He turned to look at her. With the aid of a moonbeam, he could make out that she lay on her back, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes closed. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and she seemed to be thinking about something. She seemed so soft and peaceful like this. He’d seen her face when it was furious, annoyed, exhausted, focused, lustful (an image that sent electric shivers down his spine) but this one seemed the most precious.

He silently whispered her name. Goldie.

He thought about her all the time and wondered what she thought of. What she was feeling? As much as she was truly the Ice Queen of the North, he could tell that she had a tender heart. Maybe so much that it made her swear to keep up her walls, be strong and never vulnerable. Just like him. They really were so alike. She loafed around and complained a lot and barely did any work in the first few days but he’d watched her slowly get more and more focused until she was just as determined as him. She tried to hide it but he’d noticed how excited she got any time she found some nuggets. He smiled to himself. She really understands now how rewarding hard work is. And she definitely could rise up to the challenge, to all his expectations, and seemed eager to prove herself. She was like a hearty gold veil, full of vigor. Head held high. And she was just as beautiful and shone just as bright as one too. He loved to see her proud with herself. To see her wipe her hands at the end of the day, look proudly down at her findings and smirk at him, with a hint of a giggle, claiming to have found more gold than him. Of course he always replied with a cold stare and a disapproving sigh but he actually really loved when she did that. He loved to see her rare giggles and genuine laughs, and when she’d playfully punch him or make faces at him or throw snowballs in his face. He loved it when they would settle down for meals and she’d listen to him retell his adventures with curious soft eyes. And when she’d talk about her own past and her success with her saloon. He loved that wistful look in her eyes. He loved how she’d sit with her face nestled in her hands, around their evening fire, and just attentively look out ahead, taking in the quiet beauty of the valley painted by the glow of the setting sun. The alpenglow on the mountains in the distance. The grandeur and purity of the Yukon wilderness. He just loved having her work and sit beside him, hearing her breath and feeling the whispers of her feathers.

He loved her.

But such affection was foreign to him. Even if he let himself admit it was there, even if he let himself give in to it, he had no idea what to do with it and that scared him. Fighting with her, keeping her at bay was the already well trodden path, the matted snow. But there on his side was fresh new snow where he hadn’t been before and as much as it was beautiful and glistening and tempting he had no idea what lay under it. It could be jagged rocks or feet upon feet of just snow that he would fall through once he took a step into it.

He had no idea what Goldie even thought about him. She’d kissed him and then she’d hit him and threw the coffee pot and a bunch of plates at him and then she’d made love to him. He didn’t know what to make of that. He could understand why she’d be angry with him. He’d taken her against her will. He’d taken her away from her business and who knew what would happen to the Blackjack now? He’d essentially kidnapped her. She had to stay with a stranger in an unknown land. And he forced her to work every day too. He felt very ashamed of all this now. She had stolen his gold but she hadn’t deserved this. He could understand why she’d want to get away, even if she didn’t take his gold. She’d return to her home, to the business she had made from nothing and that meant everything to her, where she was in control and where her name, her name, mattered.

She’d told him earlier that if she’d wanted to steal his gold again she would have done it long ago. Maybe she cared for him at least a little then. It definitely felt like she did when they did it but that was most likely because it was his first time and he didn’t know better. He felt so special and adored then, like it was only the two of them in the whole world. But she’d probably had countless similar encounters before. He’d taken her away from the saloon, from Dawson, and she hadn’t seen anyone for a whole month. She probably just finally decided that the clueless virgin was her only option right now. And now she’d return to Dawson, to better men. Did he really believe that Glittering Goldie, the Star of the North, the Ice Queen, would actually love someone and if she did it’d be him?

He felt his chest ache from all those thoughts. He desperately wanted to touch her. To feel her warmth and at least pretend that she cared for him. He turned to face her again and froze.

Just do it, you big dope. Reach out to her. You are the Master of the Mississippi, the Buckaroo of the Badlands, the Terror of the Transvaal, the King of the Klondike and you’re scared of this? You’re Scrooge McDuck, for God’s sake!

At that Scrooge slowly extended his hand and moved away a strand of her face and stroked her cheek. Goldie jerked from the sudden contact and then turned to him with a mischievous smirk, and a catty look in her eyes. But he noticed her expression soften and her eyes become full of longing. He was suddenly reminded of when he came home from shoe shining when he was a child in Glasgow and Matilda would run up to him all upset because some mean boy had teased her and all she wanted was to be scooped up and embraced by her big brother. Her eyes would glisten with a prelude of tears but they’d also be brimming with joy at seeing her brother.

Goldie turned to him with her default expression but suddenly felt herself melt. There he was. His nervous innocent face. Less than a dozen inches away. With those curious big brown eyes. The clear pearl blue moonlight, speckled with floating dust angels, trickled over him. She was so close to him and it felt so intimate and peaceful. She could almost see the warm fuzzy tension in the air suspended between them. She felt herself blush. She wanted to lay here and look at this cute miner forever. The night was endless. It was just them in the cabin, in the same bed, under the same blanket, and her past, the outside world, time itself seemed to fade to the background.

She shifted closer to him and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. Scrooge’s eyes widened. He certainly hadn’t expected her to reciprocate his touch. She pulled the sheets closer over them and started to move one of her hands in small circles over his chest feathers. The movements sent a warm stream through him and pulled him out of his stupor. He finally grew accustomed to what was happening and rested a soft kiss at the top of her head. Goldie smiled at that and pulled him closer, Scrooge wrapping an arm over her back. He closed his eyes. She’s in my arms.

Goldie could feel his heart beating fast so she started to coo quietly in hopes of calming him down (and herself- her own heart wasn’t beating much slower). He squeezed her shoulders. Did he really stare at her curl of hair every night? Could he really love her? For something other than her body even. She felt so comfortable laying in his arms. And this was new for her. She didn’t let other men come this close before. They were foolish and mean and repulsive. But she liked being in this duck’s arms. They were strong and gentle. It seemed like he wanted to press her as much as possible to him, to his heart, but didn’t want to crush her.

She lifted and turned her head and pressed her beak softly against his.

“With all that anger you usually direct my way, I didn’t think you could be this careful, sourdough.”

Scrooge got flustered at the sound of her voice. He shifted his head a little bit to look into her emerald shining eyes.

“I’m surprised ye aren’t running away with mah gold.”

She frowned at that. He’d probably never really see her for something other than a thief.

“I know you don’t trust me and I understand that, but I don’t want to steal anything from you anymore.”

Goldie felt his sigh waft over her head. “You can go back to Dawson tomorrow then.”

Goldie stayed quiet. She knew that made sense, but she almost felt upset with him for saying that.

“After everything that happened this month?” She heard herself ask, surprising herself. She didn’t fully know why that mattered. Why she felt like she had to push back at his suggestion.

Scrooge blinked a couple times. “Wha...I...I don’t understand.”

Goldie shut her eyes and leaned closer to him, clutching a handful of his feathers.

Scrooge suddenly felt his chest get damp. Alarmed, he shifted to the side and turned to face her. He clasped his hands over the hand that had been holding on to him.

“What’s wrong, Goldie?”

“Why are you such an infuriating warm sourdough?” She asked, slapping his chest.

Scrooge shifted nervously, unsure how to respond.

She sighed and looked away. “I don’t think I want to head back to Dawson just yet.”

She turned back to him and stared determined into his eyes.

“Look, I know I stole from you and I know you think I’m a distraction-”

“Goldie, I-”

“Just listen! You’re trying to find your fortune, and support your family back in Scotland and rebuild your ancestral castle, I get that! I know you care about hard work and being tough and making things square, and you think I’m just some lying, stealing, lazy, dance hall girl. But I want to be part of your world, and not just by being the woman who stole your gold.”

Goldie let out her breath and turned away from him, her face all flushed. She couldn’t believe she’d just said all that. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER?

Scrooge’s eyes welled up and he reached out and cupped Goldie’s face, turning her towards him.

“Goldie, you...you’re already more to me than that. I’m so sorry I captured you and took you here and made you work really hard every day. I thought you hated me for that. But...but, I think I love you.”

Goldie smiled and shifted closer, wrapping an arm around him. She rested her forehead against his.

“Me too, Scroogey”.

#scroldie #fanfic #scrooge mcduck #Goldie O’Gilt #i was going to make it fit in with canon but oops #also million dreams reference in here

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

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If Love Was A Color

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Ochako Uraraka

Additional Tags: Quirkless AU, Soulmate AU

Katsuki’s red eyes zeroed in on the word outlined in the fine print stretching across the six-inch-thick book in front of him. While many of the students congregating in the library would find the massive treatise daunting— especially considering its contents were as dull as the lightbulbs flickering in their dumb heads— Katsuki absorbed every syllable. Committing laws to memory was no easy task, but he embraced the challenge. After all, one day, he would be Japan’s most renowned prosecutor.

Katsuki’s eyebrows twitched as the loud giggling of girls disrupted his concentration. He glanced over his shoulder with lidded eyes to watch two first-year students clutching coffee cups stroll by.

“So you met your soulmate in Introduction to Biology?” one asked, a pretentious-looking girl whose ponytail looked tight enough to rip off her scalp.

“Yes! He’s so handsome and so dreamy! He wants to be a doctor; I can’t believe I lucked out with someone so smart and driven!” the other squealed as she pressed a hand to her flushing face. Her cheeks darkened as her friend joked that she should just drop out and marry him since he’ll be so rich; the girl laughed and insisted no, she couldn’t, how improper… But Katsuki could see the wheels turning in her head. He scowled as they disappeared behind some shelves, but their giggles floated behind them, clouding Katsuki’s study sanctuary with obnoxiousness.

Katsuki hated the concept of soulmates— or really, love in general. First of all, it was so fucked that there was some predetermined person you were miraculously just supposed to commit to spending your life with. What if they were a bitch, like that girl who would rather slide right into a rich man’s pockets and had no work ethic? What if they were some bum who lived in their mother’s basement? It burned Katsuki up inside, the fact that he was supposed to just accept someone without them earning his approval first. There was no way in hell he would let someone ride his coattails off the pretense of love. He had way too much to worry about anyway, as a college senior.

Still… Sometimes he had to admit that having monochromatic vision was a problem. Although the world adapted to the fact that people were colorblind until they met their soulmates, most people actively sought them— so by Katsuki’s age, most assumed that you had colored vision. He had to continually nag his professors for including color-coded charts and the like in their lectures because how the fuck was he going to differentiate? Still, that problem could be solved just by making waves— and Katsuki was damn good at that.

Ugh. I have a headache now, listening to those two bimbos prattle, he scowled, rubbing his temples as a dull pounding made a home in his skull. He pushed away from the table, leaving the open books and notes behind to walk the short distance to the coffee shop that adjoined the university’s four-story library. As he stood in line to order himself a plain black coffee, silently reciting the laws he’d just memorized in his head, he didn’t notice the door slam open and someone flurry into the small shop— that is, until they plowed into a chair, tripped over it, and slammed right into Katsuki’s back.

“Uwahhhhh!” they screeched. With a surprised yelp, Katsuki reflexively arched his back as their face crashed right between his shoulder blades. Crimson eyes wide in confused, he whirled around to face the clumsy stranger—

and then recoiled because color exploded into his world. He groaned as he staggered back into the display, eyes twitching as his previously inactive rods and cones sprang into life to fill his vision with a million different hues. He held his hand over his eyes, trying to adjust to the thin slivers of color peeking out through his fingers, and watched as a short, round-faced girl with a bob cut slowly straightened up while rubbing her nose.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she whined pitifully before cracking an eye open. Katsuki gawked at the dark, warm hue that filled her irises, the same color as the tables’ rich wood— brown? Was that brown? Her hair was the same color, so if she was a brunette, it would make sense. Slowly, he lowered his hand from his eyes, squinting as the pain ebbed. She raised her head, mouth opening to apologize— and then she inhaled sharply.

“Wow. Your eyes are such a beautiful color.”

Katsuki could feel the heat rush from his toes to the crown of his head. His mother had always told him he’d had crimson eyes like rubies. The girl continued to pore over them, a serene smile blooming on her face before it dawned on her.

“Wait, wait, wait, I— color? But that means we—! You’re my—! Oh gosh!” she spluttered. Katsuki winced as she slapped her hands hard to her cheeks, causing the skin to bloom pink there— pink, yes, that was the color of blushing. She continued to squirm wildly, entirely overwhelmed by the situation, before she managed to squeak out a sentence. “I’m Ochako Uraraka! It’s very nice to meet you, um, soulmate— Oh, that sounds so creepy!” she wailed and tugged at her chestnut tresses of hair. She looked apologetically at him. Her face turned a deep burning red. “Let me try this again… Your name, what’s your name?”

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

The barista called him to take his order, so he turned on his heel and did. As he was handing a few bills over the counter, Ochako scampered up behind him to peek over his shoulder.

“A plain black coffee, huh? You see the type!” she chirped. “I like sweet things— iced coffees with lots of cream, sugar, and flavored syrups are delicious! My favorite flavor is Irish cream— hey, where are you going?” she whined as Katsuki ignored her prattling to take his coffee and begin walking to the exit of the store. He grimaced as she followed after him, swinging her arms and hips a little so that the little planet glitter charm— it was dark, could that be purple?— on her bookbag swung back and forth. “We’re soulmates, right? We should get to know each other, don’tcha think?”

“Sorry,” Katsuki huffed as he pushed the door open. “I don’t do the whole soulmate thing.”

He tried not to think of the pitifully sad look on Ochako’s face as he closed the door right in it— but he found that it stuck in his memory for the next three days until he came to the library again.

She had some determination; he would give her that. She found him in his little nook, leaning his chair back on two legs as he pored over another law book— one that had a blue binding, Eijirou had told him. He didn’t even notice her approaching until he heard the soft tap of a cup, and he looked up to see her standing there, smiling pleasantly as she slid a black coffee towards him.

“You’re a diligent student, I see. Studying pre-law?” she observed with a point at the book cover. Katsuki snorted, half-debating ignoring her again and rejecting the coffee, but he was running on empty. Why refuse free caffeine? Though he loathed small talk, he supposed he could entertain her for a few minutes, as thanks.

“Yeah,” he answered as he picked up the cup and sipped at the steaming hot beverage. The tension melted from his shoulders as the robust flavor of the roasted beans hit his tongue; it wasn’t long after that the caffeine kicked in, giving his dulled senses and attention a nice buzz. He noticed Ochako slip into the seat opposite him, continuing to smile with those big brown eyes of hers sparkling. He saw the purple planet charm— Saturn, he realized— sitting atop her backpack, so he pointed to it.

“Astronomy?”

“Aerospace engineering.”

Katsuki released an appreciative whistle. He hadn’t expected that of the bubbly girl, and despite his reservations, he had to respect her challenging curriculum. She puffed out her chest with a prideful grin and continued, “I want to design rockets!”

“A space case for a rocket scientist. That’s perfect,” he snorted with laughter, making Ochako puff out her cheeks in defiance. Now that he noticed, they looked so soft and round… He almost had the urge to pinch them and feel how squishy they were. Almost.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a little spacey, but it doesn’t matter as long as I can solve the equations, does it?” she retorted haughtily. Katsuki shook his head, muttering a “Guess not,” and she reclined in her seat with a satisfied smirk. Katsuki’s crimson eyes fell back to the law book he was osmosing, and he could see her watching him intently above the tops of the thick pages. “What do you want to do?” she asked slowly. She seemed to be getting the hint that he didn’t want to be bothered for long, but there was a stubborn glint in her eyes.

“Prosecute,” he quipped, not looking up at her.

“Wow! That’s an ambitious goal. It takes a lot to be a government prosecutor.”

“Yeah, it does— a lot of studying, which, if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to,” he huffed with more venom than he meant. A strange sinking feeling washed over him as he watched the girl sink a little into her chair and her smile fold down at the edges. Silently, she got up and slipped her backpack on, mumbling a half-hearted “see you later.” As she began to leave, he cleared his throat.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he added with a frustrating heat rising to his cheeks. Ochako glanced at the half-empty cup, then back to him— and her smile returned a little sliver.

The next time they ran into each other, he was in line to get coffee again. She came in afluster, face scrunched as she pored over a notebook scrawled with mathematical equations; she was so absorbed in her calculations that she didn’t notice Katsuki standing in front of her, nor that he ordered an Irish cream and hazelnut coffee with extra cream in sugar. As he turned around, she shuffled forward thinking he had exited the line and bumped right into his chest. Her round cheeks pinkened and she looked up to squeak out an apology, but it died in her throat when she noticed it was him.

Wordlessly, he held out the coffee to her.

“To pay you back for the other day,” he explained as she took it, looking at him like he’d given her a ring instead of an iced coffee. She hid her bashful smile behind the white lid, slowly turning her body from side-to-side. As they moved out of line, he gestured to the messy array of numbers and letters on the pages. “What’s that? Looks intense.”

“It’s an extra credit assignment. If we solve this equation, we get ten bonus points on midterms… But it’s presenting quite a challenge,” she groaned as she scratched at her scalp with the end of her pencil. Smiling, Katsuki pulled out a chair for her and she automatically sank down, her brown eyes never leaving the paper. It was kind of cute, the way her eyebrows scrunched together and her lips poked out in a thoughtful pout. Katsuki found himself softening as he gazed at her; though it definitely looked like a challenging problem, the sparkle in her eyes indicated that she was rather enjoying it.

He liked that.

Wait a minute, he realized, his train of thought derailing and veering off a canyonside. The gears turning in his brain threatened to overheat and spin out of control as he considered what he had just actually thought. Him, liking Ochako? No. No, no, no. That wasn’t possible. Katsuki didn’t do love, he didn’t do dating, he didn’t do soulmates.

“Good luck with your problem. I gotta go,” he blurted, using his hand to hide the blush creeping onto his face. Ochako looked up with a confused gasp, but he was already marching out the door. Dimly, he could hear her meekly call, “Thanks for the coffee…”

As he stalked down the sidewalk, oblivious to the cloudy gray sky and the pattering rain beginning to sprinkle down from the heavens to dye the white sidewalk a deep slate, Katsuki’s mind was whirling. He tugged at his ash-blond strands of hair with a deep, guttural growl. He couldn’t like Ochako. He wouldn’t like Ochako. He’d always sworn that he’d never fall into that trap; he’d never take stock into that soulmate bullshit. It was just his subconscious; it had to be! He didn’t have a crush on her. It was just the internalization of all that soulmate propaganda trying to trick him into thinking he had to like her.

Right? He didn’t like Ochako. He didn’t like her sweet soft voice, or her warm brown eyes, or her big broad toothy smile her rosy round cheeks complimented so well. He didn’t find that little purple Saturn charm endearing, nor the way she pushed her fingers together when she was nervous, nor her little thoughtful pout and scrunched brows. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Katsuki stopped walking. He tipped his head up to stare defeatedly up at the cloudy gray sky. Gray. He hated that color now. It reminded him of a time when the world was just that— gray and lifeless and dull. Just Katsuki and his law books, all in monochrome.

Now the sky was blue, and so were the bluebirds nesting in the eaves of his dorm. Now the grass was green, as were the leaves that rustled in the trees lining the walking track by the gym. Now the sun was yellow, like the buttercups growing in front of the library. Katsuki’s eyes were red, like Eijirou’s spiky red hair and the apples he insisted on crunching on every morning though Katsuki hated the sound. Now grapes were purple, like Ochako’s glittery Saturn planet charm.

Now hearts were pink, just like Ochako’s warm, squishable, cute little cheeks. If Katsuki had to pick what color love was, it would be pink.

He dropped his head down with a sardonic chuckle. The water dripped down from his drenched hair to run down his face in rivulets. Pink, like Katsuki’s face every time he clapped on eyes on that clumsy, space case, chubby-cheeked cutie who happened to be his soulmate.

Damn it. He was in love with Ochako.

The slick sidewalk squeaked under his tennis shoe as he whirled on his heel to sprint back to the library. He surprised Ochako as she was walking through the double doors, making her compulsively chuck the notebook forward. She gasped and reached out as it spiraled out into the rain; if it landed in a puddle, the black ink on the pages would bleed into incomprehensible smudges, and she’d never get that extra credit she was working so hard to earn. Katsuki caught it as it sailed over his head, slowly bringing it to his chest to shield it with his body.

“K-Katsuki?” Ochako asked uncertainly, looking him up and down. He probably looked a sight, clothes and hair soaked from the rain and his chest heaving from the feverish sprint.

“You wanna know something? The first time I saw you, I couldn’t help but think that your eyes were the most beautiful color,” he whispered. It’s true, he loved the pink shade her cheeks turned— but nothing compared to that warm chocolatey brown that sucked him in and embraced him in warmth.

“I… I thought you didn’t do soulmates,” she swallowed, pushing her fingers together. Katsuki walked forward with a soft smile, holding out the notebook to her.

“I changed my mind,” he said while reaching up to brush a strand of her soft brown hair out of her face. He then grinned devilishly and pinched her cheek, making her squeak in protest. “Can’t resist ya, Cheeks.”

“What happened to Space Case?”

“You’ve been upgraded. Congratulations.”

Ochako blinked at him, then began laughing. She took the notebook back and hugged it to her chest, airy giggles making her shoulders shake a little. Now that he heard them from Ochako, he supposed those girly giggles weren’t that bad.

This soulmate thing… He could get used to it.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

Catching the Highlights

It wasn’t like she was nervous, not really. Or jealous, even. Honestly, the entire story was more than a little hysterical and very nearly distracted Belle from the obviously frustrated way Will kept moving his hands at the end of the second period. Still, there was something about sitting in the stands that felt different and maybe hearing about how her maybe-boyfriend made out with Anna Vankald one time was just the push she needed. To make things a bit more real.

———

Word Count: Nearly 4.5K AN: This is a thing I do now, apparently. Write Blue Line! Will and Belle. And poorly photoshop eights into sixes on jerseys. Although I draw the line at making the girl that same photo wear a skirt. Anyway, this continues to be real fun, I hope the five people enjoying it continue to enjoy it and I think I’ve got at least one more idea for these dweebs. So, that’ll probably happen sooner rather than later. Possibly with more badly executed photoshops.

———

It had something to do with his eyes.

With the way they narrowed ever so slightly, able to thin without causing any sort of furrow between his brow or lines of frustration on his forehead. They’d pinch. His eyes, that was. Make it so it was difficult for Belle to see the brown there or the bits of gold that she was at least ninety-six percent positive she wasn’t imagining and only slightly less confident had something to do with her.

She’d never really been one for details, like that.

Strange as it might have been.

Details were the lifeblood of research. Tiny bits of information that could sway a doctoral defense or prove an argument, but Belle had always been far more interested in the sweeping potential of a very good story, and research had that too, she supposed. To some degree, at least. Although, that was getting existential. Her work was good. She was good. Fine, even. Definitely fine. Nothing to see here. Nothing to worry about. No reason to compare the strange and not entirely unfamiliar sensation of fluttering in the pit of her stomach whenever Will glanced her way to the decidedly still nature of all her internal organs while she spent eight to ten hours uptown five days a week.

Sitting at her desk, she regularly tried to fit into the mold, everything everyone expected her to be with the title she had, and that required her to think less about the bigger picture. That sounded negative. It wasn’t. Probably. Hopefully. Just required further research. More details and specific examples.

All of them regarding the nature of Will’s eyes.

Even so, she—

Part of her missed it. The sweep. The really good stories. Ones that were less clinical and more fantastical. And the deep breath that always came just seconds before being overwhelmed. By the current and the wave and those were rather similar, as far as analogies went, but all the best stories always left her a little overwhelmed, and Belle’s cheeks were starting to ache as something bubbled out of her. Laughter, in its purest form. Bouncing and bounding and echoing off otherwise abandoned walls, the pair of them tucked into a corner of the Garden concourse because they hadn’t actually decided this was a secret, but Anna Vankald was apparently living her life under some sort of blood oath, all sworn secrecy, and poorly executed winks in the second period.

Like this was hidden. A tiny detail tucked away. Never debated. Never highlighted in the opening paragraphs of a twenty-six-page dissertation. With Chicago-style formatting.

No one ever knew how to property do Chicago-style formatting.

Belle might have hated Chicago-style formatting.

She’d never been to Chicago.

Had never been—

Will’s eyes were barely slits on his face.

Twisted lips loomed above her, not quite frustration, but inching closer the longer she kept laughing, and she refused to linger on what that meant. The laughing. The happiness. Joy, maybe. She looked up, instead. Let her head bump the wall her shoulders already had, appreciating the soft scrape of what might have been concrete against her hair, like that would ground her or slow her overactive imagination, and his hair was still wet.

“She wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” Belle bit the side of her tongue. Didn’t help, really. With her laughter problem. “Keeping state secrets?” “It happened once.” “Yes, she mentioned that, too.” He might have growled. Some strange part of her wanted him to, relished whatever the technical term was for the sound that eked out between his bared teeth, rolling his whole head in the process. Their noses nearly collided.

Belle pushed up on her toes.

To kiss the tip of Will’s nose.

“That’s distracting,” he grumbled, but his hand had inched under the hem of her shirt, and that meant he’d managed to get the hem of her shirt out of the skirt she was wearing.

“Should I have worn your jersey or something?”

His eyes snapped. Open. Brown and gold, and that wasn’t a particularly swoon-like combination in any of the stories Belle had memorized while she was growing up. Heroes with royal titles and broadswords quite literally made to challenge dragons and hordes of villains always came with blonde hair and a slight curl, flashing blue eyes that twinkled in sunlight and starlight, and Belle’s hand didn’t shake. When she brushed the few drops of water clinging to Will’s temple away.

Her calves were starting to ache, too. Made sense. She was still pushed up on her toes.

And the Rangers had lost. Not—well, not badly. By two goals, and one of those was an empty-net goal, which was a term Belle figured out all on her own. Well before Anna mumbled explanations under her breath, glaring daggers any time the Islanders fan two rows in front of them dared to open his mouth.

Honestly, that was part of the problem. He kept yelling, and Anna looked dangerously close to staging some sort of public execution in section 204 and Belle had asked. For details. Wanted a good story, or possibly a distraction because she’d noticed the way Will’s hands moved at the end of the second period, staging a rather enthusiastic conversation with a man she’d never met, but his jersey said LOCKSLEY, and she didn’t think the jersey would lie to her.

She was going to blame the Islanders fan.

“If you did that,” Will mumbled, in response to a question she’d legitimately almost forgotten about, “I’m not sure I would have been able to get out on the ice.” “Oh, compliment or—” “Definite compliment. Was that not obvious?” “Well, you’re making out with so many other girls.”

Her laugh clung to the letters, pulling her lips behind her teeth to keep from smiling like a total idiot. Something was happening. With the flutters and the overall ability of her nasal passages to get oxygen back to her lungs, and it must have been a trick of the light. The way Will’s eyes flashed, gaze flicking up beneath eyelashes and just above the half curve of his mouth, and Belle’s knees felt a little unsteady beneath her. Fighting against the force of a wholly imaginary, even more staggering wave.

“One time,” he said, straining on every letter, “it happened one time, and—seriously, why was she talking about this with you?” “Asked for a fun and interesting story about her.” Will’s eyes bugged, another shift in his voice that was much more like a crack as he nearly shouted, “And that’s what she came up with?”

“Said anything she had to tell me about her childhood was boring. Mostly because a lot of it would focus on KJ, because—”

“That’s Cap.” Belle clicked her tongue. “Wow, thank you for that. What would I do without you?” “If you wore my jersey, I think my head would explode.” “Not the compliment you think it is, either. That’d be a lot of blood. Who would even clean that up? Couldn’t make someone here do it; that’d be mean. Cruel and unusual, probably.” “I like your skirt.” “Better,” Belle laughed, in spite of her best efforts. Which were really lackluster, quite frankly. “Anyway, the childhood was apparently super boring, and there were shenanigans of rookie season to discuss.”

“She grew up in a mansion!” “Yeah, we got to that part eventually, although technically, I think it was just a brownstone.” “Rich kid description.” “You can tell her that if you want, I’m sure,” Belle reasoned, but his lips were back to twisted, and she was already on her toes. Made sense to use that to her advantage. Pressing kisses against the edges of his mouth, alternating back and forth until it felt a little like a rhythm she could time the rest of her vaguely unsteady breathing to, and she certainly did try. Didn’t work, but something about effort and attempts and those were—

Details, really.

“I like her,” Belle added lightly, mouth moving across a stubble-covered cheek. Part of her felt ridiculous. Always did with things like this. She wasn’t the story. Will wasn’t the hero. He and his teammate had gotten into a fight at the end of the second period, for God’s sake. And this wasn’t—well, it wasn’t a fairy tale. No matter how much sweeping there might have been. With its butterfly wings and salt-filled waves, all of which existed solely in Belle’s subconscious.

But there was this other part.

Part of her that didn’t always linger behind her desk. Flitted through imaginary scenarios and stories stored in the back corner of her brain, the same one that could still smell salt air with startling clarity, and remembered the precise taste of freshly-made taffy from that one restaurant on the beach. Details. She remembered those details. Held them fast, afraid they’d disappear otherwise, and made sure they played prominent roles in every daydream.

For fear of what would happen if she didn’t.

How they’d fade. Grow grey and thin, and it was a contradiction. Right in the middle of her. And that scared her just a little bit, because whatever was happening now, right at that moment, with a hand flat on the curve of her hip and her heart doing its abject best to beat its way out of her chest, she felt the same exact way. Sweeping and detailed and not the least bit jealous.

There was no need to be, really. Not when she was fairly certain she could drown in the golden flecks of Will’s eyes. Constantly staring at her as they were apt to do.

“Do you want to hear the gist of the story?”

Will’s lips pursed. Stayed that way even as Belle’s lips continued their path across his face, spending at least two seconds at the side of his left eye and the still slightly damp area surrounding his right temple. She started picking up speed. Quick kisses that she could only hope felt as strongly as the prickle of her lips suggested. But then Will’s fingers tightened. Not much. Just enough to be obvious, and Belle grinned against his cheek.

“I lived it,” Will argued, but there wasn’t much fight in it. He’d done that already, anyway. They’d get to that part, eventually.

“As the story goes, though, there was some less than savory libations involved, and—” “I’m still not convinced that vodka was legal in the continental United States.” “Suggests it’d be fair game in Hawaii and Alaska, though. Possibly Puerto Rico. I’m not sure what the rules on that are. Maybe the US Virgin Islands. What about Guam? You think your alcohol would be fair game in Guam?” “I’d have to check the label.” “You still have it?” Belle balked, almost fully and entirely prepared for the flash of amusement and the precise angle of eyebrow jump. Almost being the key word, there. Another burst of laughter tumbled out of her, lips on her cheeks that time, all blazing and prickling, and that one wasn’t inherently positive, but she was slightly worried her hair was going to get caught in the concrete of the wall and she could not possibly be expected to think when Will’s hand kept doing whatever it was it was doing.

“No, no, we did a very good job of drinking that entire thing, but I’d know that bottle anywhere.” “Where were you buying illegal alcohol? Also, how did you not die drinking hundred-proof vodka?” “Pure force of will.”

“And bad hockey games.” “Those too,” Will admitted grudgingly. An edge crept into his voice. Likely born in the second period of this game. She kissed the bridge of his nose. The tip. Between his eyebrows. Waiting for some of the tension to leave his shoulder blades, and that was all she got. Some. It was enough, for now.

“You want to talk about that?” “Losing a playoff game my rookie season? That happened a bunch of times, babe, this was just—” “Don’t be an idiot,” Belle interrupted.

He grinned. Tension kept pulling taut between his shoulders and the slope of his cheekbones, the second of which was really starting to offend Belle on an almost fundamental level, but his smile looked legitimate, and that was enough.

“Should I go defend your honor in the locker room, darling?” The grin widened. “Trying to get a rise out of me, but gender is a social construct, so I don’t think it affects nicknames, and I’m a real big fan of that one, actually.” “No rise,” Belle promised, fingers hovering above his shoulders, and they both flinched when he winced. “Going to be honest, the hitting sort of freaked me out.” “Locksley wasn’t going to hit me.” “Well, yeah, then I’d have to punch him in the locker room.” “Keep your thumb inside your fist,” Will suggested, “that way you won’t break it.” “Right, right, naturally,” Belle mumbled, and she didn’t know how they managed it. Stayed upright while his hand shifted further up the back of her shirt and her teeth grazed the curve of his jaw. She was on something of a mission, now. To cover every inch of his face. With her lips. “Anyway, as Anna told this wholly fascinating story, there was a lot of vodka involved, a very bad loss, some card game—” “—Kings.” “That’s a drinking game.” “Well, now you’re getting into unnecessary specifics.” Her body shook. Against Will’s. Who almost immediately groaned. Presumably at the location and exact angle of her hips. “Ok, so there were cards involved in your drinking game. Pizza was eaten, alcohol was downed in alarmingly large gulps.” “Editorializing a bit, mon bonheur.”

“What’s that one?” “Happiness.” “Oh, that one’s nice.” Will huffed. “They’re all super nice; I have a very large crush on you; I don’t want to talk about making out with Anna Vanklad anymore.”

He said it quickly, rushing over the words. Some might even say sweepingly. Where Belle was the some. In that instance, specifically. Someone, more like. She didn’t care. Was not spending even a second on proper sentence structure or appropriate internal grammar, was far too preoccupied with the circumference of Will’s eyes. And that one muscle in his jaw. Jumping with startling regularity, really. Totally different from her heart and her pulse and it was difficult to catch her breath.

Felt a bit like she’d played a hockey game.

A walking contradiction.

Where she also wasn’t walking anywhere. At all. Had absolutely no intention of walking away. From this.

“Was it not a good make-out?” “I honestly don’t remember a lot of it,” Will sighed, another roll of his neck. Something cracked. “That’s not game-related,” he added, and she could only imagine it had to do with the look on her face, “anyway, it was just...there was that vodka involved, and Vankald spent a ton of time at our apartment. She wasn’t Cap’s sister-in-law yet, but they’d grown up together, was my friend, and he’d fallen asleep, so…” “Figured you just make out?” “Not a lot of thought involved in it. She was a fixture, y’know? Shit, that sounds shitty. Does that sound super shitty?

“Drifting toward shitty, yeah.”

“Anna came to visit a lot because no matter what she may claim, she worries about Cap as much as anyone. Even El and Leader, and that’s—” “Wait, you have an Alien Leader you all report to?” “You’re ruining this story.” Her laugh got caught. Directly between them, all mouths and that goddamn hand, Belle’s neck tilting back on what might have been instinct and need, and she’d gasped more in the last four hours than she had in her entire life. “Tell me more about your Alien Leader, please.” “He only acts like an alien.” “Huh, that cleared up absolutely nothing.” “You should keep kissing me.” “Compare and contrast, huh?” Will groaned. Again. Part two. Let his mouth drag down the side of her throat, and Belle couldn’t stop laughing. Happiness poured out of her, new and a little strange in its quantity. As if she was made of the stuff, even worried as she was through all three periods. She’d kept wringing her fingers together. At one point, Anna had to hold her hand.

“Ruining,” another kiss, “this,” teeth on her collar bone, “baby girl.”

Suggesting that she lit up in a way that reminded her of a Christmas tree was—

Farcical, maybe.

Nothing inhuman happened. There were no bells. No whistles. No flashing neon lights suggesting this was the moment and a conversation regarding the man with his hand currently inching towards her right boob drunkenly making out with someone who wasn’t Belle should not have been so—

Fun.

God, it was fun. She was having fun. With him and because of him. Hockey nonsense aside.

Because, since coming to New York with her invisible tail tucked between her legs and the near-desperate desire to get away from that seaside town with its ghosts and its demands and its plan for a future that simply did not fit her anymore, Belle had tried. Really. To shed that persona. To be someone new. Hard as she tried, though, there were ties. Those lingering memories. Ones that dug in their heels, while she gripped others with both hands. She was, and she wasn’t. Small town and big town, a librarian who couldn’t care less about details while focusing on specifics with everything in her.

And none of it ever really made much sense.

Hurt her head to think about, everything she tried to contain and the worry that ate away at her sometimes. That she’d messed up, ruined all of it and—

She didn’t kiss Will’s mouth.

Peppered his face, instead. With her lips and the feelings behind them, mapping the space until she was certain she knew it as well as her own, and she wanted to. Wanted to learn everything about this guy who felt as jagged as she did, made up of right and wrong and mistakes and possibility and she knew it was only a matter of time before he got impatient.

She liked that about him.

That he didn’t always wait for her to catch up. Just knew that she would.

Plus, his tongue in her mouth was really something Belle was starting to appreciate. In an obsessive sort of way.

She might have groaned that time.

Fingers scrambled against the front of his shirt — team-branded, again, and that shouldn’t have been charming, but it was and likely would continue to be, and there were goosebumps on her skin. They were really very good at kissing. Each other, specifically.

“I like you, too,” Belle said, and it was a strange thing not to be embarrassed by the breathless nature of her voice.

Will’s chest was practically heaving, though. So that put them on even ground. Common ground, at least.

“You’re not mad?” “Give me some credit, sweetheart.” He chuckled, warm air against the top of her shoulder. “Was a very long time ago, for whatever that might be worth.” “Twelve galleons.” “I don’t know the conversion rate of that.” “No one does, so I think we’re all in the same boat.” “You don’t think Jo knows the conversion rate of her own fictional monetary system?” Belle shook her head. “I absolutely do not, because she was a shit world-builder and also a fairly terrible person now, so—” She shrugged. Will beamed. Some joke about a Christmas tree.

“So,” he echoed, “the thought of making out with Little Vankald has never once again crossed my mind.”

Someone scoffed. With entirely false indignation.

Using Will’s shoulder as leverage — the non-bruised one, naturally — Belle got enough height beneath her toes to see Anna cross her arms. And scowl at the pair of them. Badly. The scowl lasted all of five seconds before it evolved into its own rather uproarious laughter, another echo that filled the empty space of a concourse Belle could not imagine they were supposed to be standing on. Only a matter of time until someone else found them.

She wasn’t sure that was a bad thing, actually.

“That’s super rude, Scarlet,” Anna hissed, muffled footsteps that only lost their volume because of the overall status of Belle’s heart. Still trying to fly out of her. “But I want it noted, for the record and all that, that I don’t want to make out with you ever again, either.”

“Do you remember it being way wetter than it should have been?” “You problem, absolutely.” “I haven’t had that issue,” Belle argued, mostly to guarantee the quirk of Will’s lips. Worked like a charm. Or something less lame sounding. In her head. Most of this commentary was in her head.

“Lucky you,” Anna drawled.

“C’mon,” Will whined, “no one told you to start with this story.” “Start with, huh?” His eyes. Were becoming a serious problem and a growing majority in the basis for most of Belle’s heart-related issues, but she forced herself to meet his gaze and tilt her chin up and she didn’t think she imagined the way his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek. In an appraising sort of way.

“I really would have told you. Eventually” “I know.” “I’m serious.” “I know,” Belle repeated, “and I’m really not threatened by someone who you still regularly refer to as Little Vankald.” Anna flipped him off. Or them, maybe. As a collective unit. Belle wanted them to be a collective unit. “I could order a jersey online, right?” “Nah, I know people, don’t waste your money.” “Could probably get Kris to help,” Anna added, “as the physical form of my apology.” Belle waved her off. “It was a good story. Highs, lows, drama, does your—do we call him your brother-in-law? He’s not the Alien Leader, right?” “You mean Liam?” Will’s laugh was more like a barely-contained snort of humor and shoulders that were tight for a reason that did not involve pessimistic emotions. Belle’s lips twitched. “Just knew that off the top of your head, did you?” she asked.

“If you knew Liam, you’d understand. Was Scarlet suggesting we’re all aliens?” “Nah, just him.” “I did no such thing,” Will objected, another glance in Anna’s direction, “Cap looking for us?” She nodded. “Locksley too. Should I be worried Mom and Dad are getting a divorce?” “You’re the most dramatic person alive.” “Lots of hand moving between the two of you, your girlfriend was worried.”

It was Belle’s turn to tense. With what, she wasn’t entirely sure. Some sort of emotion, she assumed. Adrenaline, maybe. Hope, possibly. And it wasn’t like she was waiting for labels, but she’d come to pretty good terms with her ability to counter herself in the midst of her own silent monologue, and Will was staring again. Straight through her, it seemed.

Or maybe directly into her.

That was sentimental, though.

“Does Killian know that you two made out once?” Anna hissed. “If you tell KJ about this, I will actually have to strangle you, no matter how much I like you and how much Scarlet wants to date you.” “Aren’t we dating already?” Anna opened her mouth, what Belle knew would be more sarcasm and the teasing nature of her and Will’s relationship, but she had more pressing issues, and he answered, anyway. “Yeah, we totally are, plus I like you way more than I hate Ariel’s inevitable victory lap, so I mean, that’s—” Cutting him off was rude. Not nice. Inevitable.

Based solely on the size of his eyes and their gold-like nature.

“I, uh—” Belle started, “I know we’re not supposed to accept the set-up, and Ariel’s going to be so annoying, but maybe we could…” She shrugged. Tried to stay focused. And upright. Continued standing seemed important in a moment like this. “We’re both kinda messed up, don’t you think?” “Little,” Will murmured.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and I know that we’re...I mean, this is good, and I’m mostly good with it, but also, I was super nervous during the game, and what were you guys fighting about?” “Fighting is a strong word. More like discussing how Locksley should learn to keep his stick on the ice so he can get that tip from my slap.” “Weird turn of phrase.” “Slap shot.” “No time for full terminology, huh?” “How goes the understanding icing battle?” She was going to sprain her cheeks. Maybe Ariel could help with that. After gloating. Ariel was absolutely going to gloat. “Getting there,” Belle promised, and it was not about hockey, “don’t you think?” “Mmhm.” “So, uh—I don’t know what you do after games, but…” “Little Vankald is totally here to drag us uptown because Cap regularly challenges her in the dramatics, and I bet he’s hungry.” “You eat after games?” “Ariel’s husband owns that restaurant.” “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s how I met her actually. Good onion rings. Weird we didn’t ever see each other there at the same time, though.” Will hummed. Stuck out his lower lip. Challenged her without saying anything, and Anna was still standing there, and security had to be aware of them, but Belle was in the middle of something, and it was good and great and made absolutely no sense because she was not a pro sports girlfriend, but the labels really weren’t important, and it was all—

She gasped. For, like, the four-thousandth time that night.

Saved the best for last, though.

Will’s mouth found hers in a crashing sort of way that altered the cosmos, or at least Belle’s perception of the world around her. Particularly when her hands were suddenly more like barnacles, gripping his shirt as if she was afraid he’d disappear otherwise. Knuckles cracked and breath caught, everything spinning and staying frustratingly still, and one of her heels popped out of her shoe. Pressing back up on her toes didn’t do her calves any favors, but she wasn’t bruised and they were both a disaster, and the tongue thing really was pretty fantastic.

Tracing the inside of her mouth and the seam of her lips, Will’s rumble of pleasure echoed between her ribs, enough to spur Belle’s arm up as she slung it around his neck. Her fingers found skin and short hair, nails scratching so she could hear that sound again.

She closed her eyes.

Let the details seep in, and settle into her soul.

Until Anna coughed, and there was a security guard standing next to her, and Will’s head dropped to Belle’s collar bone again. He kissed there, too. Before spinning on his sandals, all confidence, and bravado, a reasonable excuse that someone, somewhere, would probably believe. Not this security guard, but that probably wasn’t important, and Belle had helped Will make an Instagram account.

So, something about a cat and a bag and—

His fingers laced through hers.

“Wanna challenge Locksley to a fight for my honor?” She scrunched her nose. Pretended to grimace when his lips pressed against her cheek. Anna gagged. “Yeah,” Belle said, “that’s exactly what I want to do.”

#scarlet beauty #scarlet beauty ff #scarlet beauty fic #blue line one shots #defensive!blue line #i don't know guys—these have just taken on a life of their own #will i put them on ao3? maybe who can say #i mean i can #but...they're still kind of short i think #for ao3 #if any of the five you reading this want specific scenes let me know #i've got time between waiting on people to make their deadlines

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milkcakejamun · 3 years

Text

ShiVi X HP Crossover, Part I

“For the Japanese, who know so much and intuit more, human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place, or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted, or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break."

----------Page Break -------------

His little finger interlocked with her own, “Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to find you?” He brought his other hand up to her face and gently caressed her cheek as she leaned towards him in comfort. “In any shape. In any form. In any world,” he whispered as his thumb brushed across her lower lip. “I will find you,” he leaned closer to her as she angled her body towards him, “because we are fated for each other.” — C. K. Rani

Raavi smiled as she lowered the book. Her eyes trailed over to the boy… no man, sitting right across from her. His hair was neatly combed and parted to the side, uniform was clean and well ironed, quills organized by size and shape of the tip.

He was Ved Pandya, and he was absolutely perfect.

As someone who believed in soulmates, Raavi knew that Ved Pandya was the one for her, perhaps from the moment she first laid eyes on him on Platform 9 3/4 at King’s Cross Station hugging his family. A warm feeling blossomed in her chest when she saw those happy smiles, and for the first time, she knew where she belonged… and that was with the Pandya family…

For that reason alone, she did her best to pursue a friendship with Ved, even though they were sorted in different houses, him in Hufflepuff and her in Ravenclaw. She would try to sit at his table, she would meet up with him after class asking about doubts, and she would try to be involved in whatever activity he was involved in (with the sole exception of Quidditch).

Slowly, but surely, her efforts paid off… Ved and her began a friendship in their third year of school, and now as seventh years, they were essentially inseparable. She knew every little secret of his, and he knew almost everything about her as well… and fairly soon, he would know the last truth she was hiding.

The truth that she loved him…

“If you spent as much time as you did watching me on your studies, you would’ve cleared all the exams with straight O’s,” she heard his soft murmur. He glanced up from his book with a frown adorning his face, and again, she was absolutely mesmerized by how good-looking Ved was… his soft eyes, the gentle curve of his cheeks.

She smiled lazily at him as she leaned over to close the book he was reading, “Grades don’t matter,” she stated as a matter-of-fact. Not when my goal is to be by your side anyway. “Not when I have a job, at least,” she mentioned with a smirk. The Pandya family already offered her a job after graduation, regardless of what her final exam scores were.

Ved rolled his eyes, “I might not mind, but my cousin—,”

Raavi scowled at the thought of working for anyone else other than Ved. Ved’s father, the sweet and charming Dev Pandya, would not allow her to work for anyone else. Most especially that “dreaded” and “tyrant” of a cousin… She’s never met that good-for-nothing cousin (and never even cared to inquire about him), but she knew he was not good news.

No man was good news when he sent her plastic lizards for her birthday… and that man even knew of her crush on Ved, as every birthday note included a small message of, “Do not even dare!”

Ansh Pandya… the beloved son of Gautam and Dhara Pandya, and the heir apparent of the wonderful Pandya Store… Someone with such a great legacy should have been a model citizen… instead, Ansh chose to be the bane of her life… the villain of her love story.

Even when he wasn’t there, he made her life miserable… suggesting Ved should get a girlfriend, and even offering a list of potential girls he could begin talking to…

“Let’s not ruin this afternoon by speaking about him,” she huffed.

“He’s not that awful,” Ved’s lips curled upwards in amusement. “He was the one to offer you a job, after all.”

And it was a halfhearted and insulting offer should she say so herself. Without even being there, he sent her an offer letter after Gautam Pandya made the initial offer. His letter claimed she would make the perfect addition to the company, as their next project was developing the operating system to their cell phone line. The Chipkali operating system… and as a “chipkali” herself, she would offer the perfect inspiration…

If he wasn’t related to the wonderful Pandya family, she would have throttled him years back when he sent her a toy lizard which came to “life” the second she touched it. The only good thing that happened with that was that Ved hugged her and stayed by her side the rest of the night.

“When you join company, you’ll understand,” Ved stood up and stretched. “His heart is truly filled with gold… and he honestly is the beacon of the family, especially after…,” he trailed off as his eyes were filled with anguish.

She swallowed, knowing to stay silent. A few years back, prior to Ved’s birth, the Pandya family suffered their greatest loss. They had been the most spoken about family, especially with the advent of their new wizarding products… a phone that rivaled the ones used by Muggles… computers that connected every aspect of the community… quills that were able to engineer anything from the imagination…

They had transformed the Wizarding World… and just as they celebrated their greatest success… the inventor of it all passed away…

“I wonder if he’s proud of us,” Ved murmured as he glanced out the window, gazing at the blue sky.

Raavi smiled softly as she squeezed his shoulder. She had never known Shiva Pandya… and she seldom hears of him as well since he always invoked the tears from the family. But she knew, that regardless of who Shiva Pandya was, he would be proud of Ved and Ansh…

Ved placed his hand over hers and turned to her with a soft smile, “Anyhow, it’s time for us to part,” he slowly packed up his quills and belongings into his bag as Raavi turned to him curiously. “Sruthi and I will be practicing today for the big game next week.”

Raavi had nodded her head… until he had uttered that vile name from his lips… Sruthi… the woman that Ansh had come up with. She had thought Ved would break the connection, just as he had done so with the four other women… but, after going out for butter beer once, Ved and Sruthi had hit it off. They had been speaking to each other much more, despite Sruthi being an entire two years younger. And even though they were in different houses, they practiced Quidditch together…

She wasn’t one to become mad with jealousy… but there was something in Sruthi that brought the worst in her… that made her worry about the future she envisioned for herself.

“I want to come, too!” she announced as she quickly packed her belongings herself.

“You?” Ved raised a brow. Raavi nodded her head, ignoring the bewilderment in his expression. Even after nearly four years of friendship, she had hoped Ved would’ve known. How relentless she could be. “You do understand we will be riding our brooms,” Raavi raised her brow as Ved continued, “Playing Quidditch.”

After a moment of silence, Raavi crossed her arms, “So?” She was fully aware that she could not ride a broom… however, that doesn’t mean her eyes were not perfectly functional. She could sit in the bleachers and shout whenever they became too close. “I’ll watch!”

He rolled his eyes as he motioned for her to tag along.

Grinning with pride, she skipped along his side, briefly glancing over at his profile every now and then, admiring everything she could about him. He was absolutely perfect for her in every way. He was just about an inch taller—so he wouldn’t have to bend down and hurt his neck whenever they kissed. He had the most impeccable fashion when they did not have to be in their uniforms.

“Are you excited to join the company?” Ved murmured as their hands brushed.

Raavi felt a gentle tingle go up her arms as a smile split wide on her face. She gently rubbed the area that had touched his hand. Nodding her head, she felt a warm flush come over her face, “Yes,” she breathed out. Working alongside him was a dream come true.

“Ansh is excited as well,” Ved brought his hand up to his mouth as he tried to hide his smile. Raavi raised a brow as she glanced over in his direction. “Wait… do you not know?” he began laughing. “Ansh will be your supervisor once you start working.”

Raavi’s eyes widened as she stilled to a complete stop. Ansh? My supervisor? She could only see a dark cloud over her head… They were never able to meet because he had chosen to attend Durmstrang (thank Somnath, otherwise they would’ve killed each other), but from the small tidbits she knew of him, and from the letters he had sent her, he would be a brutal boss.

“Ansh is not bad, Raavi,” Ved whispered. “He would never hurt anyone. Most especially you.”

Me? She scowled remembering all the gifts he had sent her over the years. The toy chipkalis, the dung bombs, packets of oils and masalas (though she had no understanding of why he would give her such a thing… she was an absolutely wonderful cook!). Not a single gift was sweet… and she didn’t even know what she did to deserve this! They hadn’t even met before!

Which was why she began sending him inappropriate gifts as well. From sending him acid pops, frog spawn soap, bulbadox powder… unfortunately, nothing terrible had happened to him.

“Raavi.”

She glanced at Ved as Ved reached out for her hand.

“You’re Raavi… anyone can fall in love with you,” he smiled at her softly.

Warmth blossomed in her chest as she followed Ved to the Quidditch field. Anyone can fall in love with me… her eyes zeroed in Ved’s back. Does that mean he actually loves me? A smile found it’s way onto her face. Then I don’t need to wait to confess? I can just do it right now?

“Ved,” she called out at the same moment Ved’s face brightened with joy.

“Sruthi!” he called out as the happiness fizzled out of Raavi.

She turned to Sruthi with a glare… She didn’t even exist a few months ago, but now, she became a mainstay, an unwanted third wheel, and despite all the hints she was giving Sruthi… that girl really didn’t understand.

“Ved!” Sruthi smiled as she ran over to him.

Ved pulled her into a hug as Raavi bit her lower lip, feeling excluded. In all her years of being good friends with Ved, he had never taken the liberty to hug her in such a manner. Is it because he thinks I don’t want to hug him? How do I let him know that I do want to hug him? That I want to do much more with him like hold his hands and go to Hogsmeade with him on a date?

Sruthi turned to Raavi with a small smile, “Will you be sitting on the bleachers?”

Raavi nodded her head slowly, wishing she didn’t have to sit on the bleachers. Wishing she could ride a broom just as well as Sruthi, if not better.

“Could you hang onto this for me?” Sruthi handed her a gold necklace with a small hourglass in the middle.

“Time turner?” Ved asked excitedly. “Aren’t they all gone?”

Sruthi nodded her head, “Yes, but,” she glanced at Raavi briefly, and Raavi quite honestly felt very insulted. She and Ved shared everything. How dare this girl treat me as the outsider! “My uncle actually works in the Ministry, and after I told him about how I wanted to take extra classes… he kind of gave this to me,” a warm blush colored her cheeks as Raavi scoffed in annoyance.

Know it alls… She hated those people the most, and this “using a time turner to take as many classes as I possibly could” was yet another reason for her to despise dislike Sruthi. She’s just a fifth year student! She has a few more years…

“And because it’s so precious, I can’t let anything happen to it, so Raavi di,” Raavi did her best to not react to the ‘di’ that was spoken. “Could you hang on to it as Ved and I practice?”

Before she could utter a single word, Sruthi placed the necklace in Raavi’s hands. Ved and Sruthi, then, both grabbed their brooms, heavily engaged in their own conversation. What surprised her greatly was the chemistry they shared with each other. Sruthi was able to touch Ved’s arm, and instead of shrugging her off, like he normally does, he just stood there, smiling at her and whispering something that made her laugh.

V-Ved?

Raavi swallowed as she watched them zip through the sky. Sruthi’s dark brown hair zipped across the wind, and for a second, Raavi’s heart wavered. All these years, she reassured herself that she was the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts—and her long list of admirers only made that so much easier. But as the sun shone on Sruthi… Raavi wondered whether she was truly beautiful enough…

Ved’s younger sister had taken a liking towards Sruthi as well… and Ansh… he was the one who suggested Ved speak to Sruthi…

N-no Raavi… you can’t give up. You’re Raavi! The girl who can make anyone smile and laugh. No one can hate you…

Raavi bit her lip as she quickly ran to the storage closet, picking up a broom for herself. It doesn’t matter if I can’t ride a broom… besides how hard can it be? Whispering a small prayer, she gripped onto the broom as she mounted it, and gently, she tilted the broom up, eyes widened as she slowly rose into the sky.

Taking slow, steady breaths, her racing heart slowly turned normal again as she stabilized in the sky, “I-I really did it,” she cracked a small smile, ignoring the drop of sweat that was forming at the side of her forehead. She let out a few airy laughs, “And it wasn’t even that hard,” she began laughing a little more comfortably. “I don’t even know what I was so worried about.”

She patted her shoulder with the hand that held the time turner, “G-good job, Raavi.” Her eyes briefly glanced down, getting a glimpse of the small architecture that was underneath her and she instantly regretted it. “N-no, no, no… don’t think about it. J-just figure out how to g-go forward.”

Swallowing, she raised her head at the same time she heard her name be shouted.

Oh bugger… the blood from her face drained the second she saw the bludger coming towards her. She brought her hands up to her face, feeling a searing pain pierce through her abdomen as she was knocked off her broom. Her nails dug into her palms as she closed her eyes, embracing her free fall.

This was certainty not the end she thought she would meet.

At least you’ll be remembered as the girl who brought a smile to everyone’s face… I wonder what Ved will think… will he remember me afterwards? Or will he forget about me, too…

Warmth enveloped her as her head was cradled. Instead of feeling a searing pain rip through her… she was held by someone strong… someone well-built.

V-Ved… did you catch me?

A waft of masalas and oils drifted towards her as she clenched onto the uniform with trembling hands.

No… it can’t be him… then who…?

Even through the dull pain that was throbbing at her head, she slowly opened her eyes.

Sharp facial features, long hair, dark, smoldering eyes… He was the exact opposite of Ved. Manly… terrifying… not at all her type. Heaviness fell upon her eyelids as her face fell on top of his chest.

Who are you?

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aiorevelations · 3 years

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A Number, Not a Name: Part 18

Enjoy everyone!

4 months earlier:

Regis scanned the fragment of paper spread out across the table before him. Not even a month ago he was a desperate man chasing the shadows of his lifelong mentor. What he’d found in the jungles of South America had been nothing short of a profound revelation. The ancient words inscribed held the key to changing humanity. From the very beginning, he had believed deep within his soul that what Professor M spoke of was true. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew it. Though he’d never have suspected that the place which possessed what he sought was merely some speck on a map. A hamlet of small-town America. In the end, though the where didn’t matter. What mattered was that he attained his goal. Failure was his greatest fear. After what he’d sacrificed to get this far he wasn’t about to fall short an inch away from the finish line. Like Professor M had. When he stumbled upon he’d found a broken sickly old man barely clinging onto life. Filled with regret and sorrow that though he literally held in his hand the culmination of his life’s work, he would never live to see it. Regis had vowed that would not be his fate.

Fate, however, was a funny thing. Previously Dr. Blackgaard had possessed adequate resources yet lacked the knowledge he required. Now just when he had attained the necessary knowledge his funds were depleted. Alas Professor M had died, weighed down in debt, and without any assets to further fund Regis’ research. Dr. Blackgaard was one to keep his research away from prying eyes. The last thing he wanted was to inform anyone of his discovery. Who knows what might happen. Word could spread to the general public if that happened it was game over. Blackgaard was well aware however that the little venture he was starting in Chicago wouldn’t provide him with the funds he needed. The choice was before him. Either choose not to share his work and lose any chance of funding or take the chance and inform potential investors of his findings. When put that way there was only one option - the latter. “Blast” he muttered under his breath.

He rolled up the parchment and stood up from his chair, grasping his walking stick as he sat up. Pacing back and forth on the wooden floor he tried thinking of someone who would work as a potential investor. Blackgaard’s mind raced. Too many people had their motives and agendas they were trying to serve. The last thing he wanted to be was someone’s puppet. He’d rather give up his work altogether than be a pawn in someone else’s game. It has to be someone who has enough resources yet can be easily fooled. Someone obsessed with power and ambition that they’d do anything to obtain it - even trust a complete stranger. A person who is so full of themselves they’d never think anyone could bring them down. Sasha meowed, interrupting Blackgaard’s thoughts. He stooped down and picked up his faithful feline companion. Softly, he stroked her neck and behind her ears, prompting a deep purr from Sasha. “Oh, Sasha…Now, who do we know who’d be aware of someone like that.”

Blackgaard had a long list of reliable contacts. Men and women spread across the globe. People who were aware of plots and schemes of power and the people behind them. Blackgaard’s polished shoes thudded on the packed earth as he circled the jungle cabin, left exactly as it had been when Professor M died. Professor M’s research notes and documents were packed carefully in boxes that were neatly stacked. His personal effects and clothes were strewn throughout the room.

Regis placed Sasha down on the floor and walked to where Professor M’s trunk was located in the corner of the small hut. He opened the lid and searched through it until he found a notebook. He scanned over the pages looking for a particular name. An old contact of theirs who Professor M had known even before he met his esteemed mentor. They had come to value her greatly. Every secret or scheme going on she always found a way to find out. Finally, Regis' eyes landed on the name he was searching for. Blackgaard knew she was the answer.

…..

4 months earlier:

Liana stared blankly ahead. She was busy pouring coffee yet her mind was somewhere else. Today would have been Erik’s birthday. She tried to push it to the side and carry on waitressing, but the memories would come flooding back. Picnics in the park. Splashing each other in the lake. The way he’d shower her with flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day.

Liana had known she’d never be able to have peace until her father and all those responsible answered for their actions, but she at least thought with time she’d be able to have a sense of healing. Instead, the more time passed the more angry she became. She should be spending these years with Erik. If he was here she was certain they’d have been married by now probably with children. Living a happy and beautiful life. She’d been robbed of that life and forced to live a cold and lonely one.

“Liana!” Hearing her name, she snapped out of her thoughts.

“Uh sorry. Millie. What is it?”

“You’re pouring coffee all over the counter.” Liana glanced down and saw she’d overfilled the coffee cup, causing the liquid to flow all over the countertop.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She set the decanter down and grabbed some napkins from the dispenser.

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distracted all morning.”

She wiped up the spilled coffee. “I’m fine.” Liana picked up the coffee cup and walked to a table by the shop window.

She set the piping hot coffee on the table. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks so much” the man graciously responded.

“Would you like anything else?”

“No, this is good for me. Thanks.”

“Of course. If you need anything please let me know.” She forced a smile and began to walk to another table where two women were waiting to order. Halfway to the table, she stopped. Her eyes were drawn to the television mounted in the corner of the room. An image of a man’s face caught her eye. His familiar features, grey hair, wrinkled skin, piercing black eyes, matched the image she’d seen in person on multiple occasions. One of the faces seared into her head for the last nearly five years. There was no mistake, the man was none other than Davit Dalmar. Below his image was the headline “Breaking News: Davit Dalmar, CEO and founder of Dalmar Petroleum, announces run for Krudian parliament.”

Liana found herself chilled to the core seeing his face. It took her back, back to that night. The worst night of life. She holding her dying boyfriend in her arms, knowing there was nothing she or anyone else could do. She bit back her lip and took a deep breath. No, she wouldn’t break down, especially in a Budapest cafe.

What was that expression? The past has a way of catching up to you. She’d always planned to go back. To go home. Deep down she knew what she had to do. That pain. That anger. That overwhelming feeling of loss. It was still there. Burning in her soul stronger than ever. She knew she’d never be able to move forward unless she went backward. Nevertheless, when it came to confronting her past she’d find herself paralyzed. Unable to go back. Memories of Krudia, her father, Eric haunted her. Every street or shop in Bulin came with some painful reminder. The very thought of stepping off the airplane filled with her dread and terror.

But now seeing Dalmar had served to remind her of the men she’d left behind. And of what she’d lost. He was a monster. Him and her father both. She felt another wave of anger surge through her. In what world was it fair that Erik was dead and Norvan and Dalmar were still breathing? How could someone be so heartless as to take him from her without a second thought? How could people, like her father and Dalmar, find pleasure in killing others? She may have thought the removal of some malevolent individuals necessary but never took pleasure in their demise only in the justice being served. One thing couldn’t be denied: her father and Dalmar were insane. They had to be brought down. Any reservations or fears she had, Liana knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She was done running from her past.

…..

Present-day:

Jason woke, tied to a chair. Ropes dug into his wrists. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, or perhaps blood, though he wasn’t sure which one. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. He appeared to be in some type of warehouse. Above him, warehouse pendant lights flickered the only source of light in the room.

It all came flooding back to him—what he'd prayed had been only a nightmare—The car chase, men shooting at them, Tasha slumping forward on the steering wheel ….

Tasha. His heart began to race and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Where was she? He prayed she was still alive. He frantically glanced around him but saw no one.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his earlier actions had caused this.

He struggled to loosen the ropes that bound him. Straining he turned every which way trying to free himself. It was no use. He let out a scream of frustration and lowered his head. A feeling of helplessness and utter loneliness consumed him, His head throbbed but the physical pain he was experiencing didn’t compare to his overwhelming guilt.

It’s my fault. The words stabbed through his mind. I got us into this. I shouldn't have acted recklessly—Why didn’t I just stick to the plan? Why did I have to be so stubborn? He shook his head. I wanted so desperately to prove myself that I ended up screwing everything up. If I get out of this I’ll probably have to resign. The last thing the NSA wants is someone who can’t complete a routine mission, let alone their first assignment. Who knows, maybe that’s probably for the best anyway. Donovan saw right through me. My flaws and weaknesses…how careless I could be…and I proved him right. Now not only is the mission ruined but Tasha’s life is in danger because of me. If she dies I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

He glanced up at the ceiling. Right now he didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. His whole body felt numb.

There was nothing he wanted to do, nowhere he wanted to go. Nothing mattered anymore, except doing everything he possibly could to right his mistake. To make sure Tasha was safe and if possible successfully complete their assignment.

Whoever was behind this would probably hurt him. The thought barely registered in his mind. He knew he should feel something. Dread. Fear. Anxiety. But he didn’t. All his thoughts were turned to Tasha. They could do whatever they wanted to him. It didn’t matter. He would willingly sacrifice his life without hesitation if it meant they didn’t touch her. At that moment he knew he was powerless. There was only one thing he could do. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

…..

Tasha’s eyes darted around the room, her eyes landing on the metal door to the side of her. She felt something digging into her skin and realized she was tied up. Tasha lay against the wall struggling to recall previous events, how she’d ended up here. Her mind was blank. The last thing she remembered was leaving with Jason for the gala. She looked down at her clothes. Instead of the dark blue dress, she remembered she was wearing light pink pajamas. She looked around the room. The floor was layered with dirt. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room. Jason was nowhere in sight. Who knew where he could be. For all Tasha knew he could be lying dead somewhere or being mercilessly tortured.

The door creaked open causing Tasha to look up. An older muscular man entered the room followed by a tall brown-haired woman.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were probably after. Information. Luckily, Tasha thought, she’d been briefed and trained how to resist such efforts. She sat up in her seat and braced herself for whatever was coming, though she couldn’t help the shivers that traveled down her spine.

Milena’s eyes met Tasha’s. Tasha tried to read them yet they seemed nearly expressionless. The man’s on the other hand were easy to read. They were deathly cold.

Milena spoke. “I have to say that was quite a showing back there. Very impressive. My hired men are known for their efficiency. You and your associate were their hardest targets ever by far.” She crossed her arms. “So congrats.”

Tasha kept a blank expression on her face. "You might as well just skip to the end. I’m not saying anything.”

“Who said anything about getting information? I’m not so stupid as to waste my time trying to get intel out of an NSA agent.”

Elias walked over to Tasha “Never saw that coming did you?”

Tasha looked him directly in the eyes. “Can’t say I didn’t. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t waste my time either.” Fear trembled through her, but at the same time, there was a defiance in her eyes. Even in face of danger, she wasn’t one to submit or hold back on fiery comebacks.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He glanced at Milena. “I like this one. Too bad we can’t keep her around.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best company anyway.” Tasha glanced at the metal door beyond Milena and Elias. There was one question she had to ask. Though a possible answer filled her with dread. Life had a funny, even almost cruel way of unfolding. Not even a few hours ago Jason and she had been going at it and now here she was worrying over his safety. Though she was still deeply angry and upset at Jason for what he had done, all that mattered to her right now was that he was alright. “Is…he okay?”

“He’s alive if that’s what you’re asking,” Elias replied.

A wave of relief washed over Tasha. At least she and Jason were both alive. When it came down to it that alone only mattered. A dark thought crept into her mind. But then again who knew what their captors had in mind for them. Perhaps it would have been better for him not to survive, that might have been a merciful fate.

Elias stepped closer to Tasha. Then, from under his black shirt, he unslung a small black pistol from his belt.

Tasha’s mouth began to run dry and her heart began to race. Elias twirled the gun on his finger, only increasing Tasha’s uneasiness.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Milena. “You know, you seem like a straight shooter so I’ll cut to the chase. Why exactly do you need us? If you’re not after information I fail to see the point.”

Milena gave a small laugh. “Aren’t you a fast talker? Trying to hide your fear?”

“No, my boredom.”

Milena clasped her hands. “Let’s just say I need you both for a plan of mine.”

Tasha eyed her confusingly. “What kind of plan.”

“That would be giving things away now would it?”

“What things? Are you working for Dalmar?”

Pain flashed across Milena’s eyes at the mention of his name. It was only there for a second and was gone as soon as it came. Not before being noticed by Tasha. “Dalmar, that monster. Heck no! Your whole plan of bringing him down is still happening. You and Edward are just playing a different role than you originally planned.”

Tasha found herself shocked by Milena’s revelation. However, she made certain not to show her surprise to those in the room. Basic training - never show your opponent what you’re thinking.

Milena turned to Elias. “Would you give us a moment?”

He glanced from Milena to Tasha and back to Milena again. He placed his gun back in its holster. “Sure.” The door clanked shut behind him.

“I know what you may think of me and I can’t say I blame you. I’d probably feel the same way too…but I just want to say that I admire your tenacity. I respect what you’re doing.”

Tasha leaned forward. “Really. I would never have guessed. If you respected my mission, why interfere with it?”

“Trust me. I had my reasons. The justice I’d get from your NSA wouldn’t be enough.” She spoke, a hint of sadness showing in her eyes for a brief moment.

From the first time she laid eyes on her Tasha could tell that the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a hardened criminal. That there was something beneath the surface. It was obvious now she’d suffered some tragic painful event in her life. Dalmar’s doing most likely. Tasha thought for a moment about how to respond. She knew the words she’d say would probably not change her mind or course of action, but she had to try.

Tasha spoke softly. “I know what horrific things Dalmar is capable of…Sometimes it seems that men like him just end up walking away but that’s no ex—”

“Excuse for me to take the law into my hands. Yeah, I figured that speech was coming. Guess what, I don’t have time for it.” Milena said strongly before turning around and walked across the room. Well, that went well but pretty much how I expected. Tasha thought as Milena shut the door behind her as she exited the room, leaving Tasha alone once again.

#aio fanfic #Adventures in odyssey #adventures in odyssey fanfiction #aio fanfiction #aio #adventuresinodyssey #jason whittaker #tasha forbes

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tweeterbugkayla · 4 years

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If there’s anyone who’s dealing with stress/anxiety during this hard time that our world is going through, this is for them and you didn’t stumble across this accidentally. The universe has made this appear to you for a reason. I hope this will help at least someone who’s been overwhelmed by everything and can use some of these techniques in your everyday routine. Reblog/share or tag anyone who needs this!

Everyday when you wake up set the intention it will be a good day. Just realize it’s a new fresh day and nothing will ruin it for you because your intention on it being a good day will play out to it being the best day. Feel it’s a new day and yesterday is the past. It’s gone.

Immediately after you set the intention it’s a new day and it’s gonna be a good one, just for a second think of 1 thing you’re grateful for whether it be just you waking up to see another day, family, pets, roof over your head, the bed you slept in, food, wifi. Anything! Feel it.

Once you get up, go have a glass of water & take vitamins (Multi-vitamins are good.) Instead of coffee that can make you anxious, have a cup of hot tea. (Green, Chai, Lavender, lemon & ginger, black, white) There’s more benefits! It’s calming and healthy for your mind & body.

Now if there’s one thing at all you take from this, let this be it! It’s scientifically proven that delta/beta sound waves and frequencies can effect the mind & body. 432 hz meditation music is so helpful for stress and anxiety. There’s something for everything, healing, stress, sleep, positive energy, cleansing and so much! Use this! https://youtu.be/owVazx83hcc

youtube

While you’re listening to positive music to help your vibrations and drinking hot tea, this is the time I recommend getting out a notebook and making a gratitude list. Write down any and everything you’re grateful for. Having gratitude brings you abundance. Focus on what you have now rather than what you don’t have. “If you focus on what you don’t have instead of what you already have, you’ll never have enough” - Oprah

Take the time right after to feel everything you’re grateful for and meditate. Doesn’t matter how long. Take deep breaths then clear your mind. The apps Headspace & Calm can guide you. There’s also guided meditations for anything on youtube. Crystals also help if you have them. Count 10 of your breaths then start again. Focus on your breathing. Remember. You’re not your thoughts. Imagine a river in your mind flowing and your watching each thought you have go down the stream. Instead of engaging in the thought, just let it go.

A personal thing I always do after meditation is pray/manifest. The reason being is my mind is cleared and my energy is at the strongest point for my message to be delivered to my guardian angels. I can think clearly about what it is I’m asking God/Universe for without unfocusing and they can hear me clearly. Think of it as singles you’re trying to send someone. You can think a sentence in your mind but if you feel it in your heart and inner core, you’re going to be putting off singles of that can be sensed. Kind of like how your pet can sense if you’re happy or not. Or even your best friend or partner. No one can read your mind, but they can most definitely tell when you’re feeling a certain way. It’s the same kind of energy you want to give out into the universe so your prayers can speak for themselves. The way you feel about things, shows how things mean to you and that’s what’s important.

A good thing that also helps after meditation is yoga. It’s a lot of breathing exercises while stretching your body. Your mind isn’t wondering off in the distance because you’re too busy focusing on breathing and stretching at the same time. You have to really be present. You can look up yoga for beginners for 5 minutes if you’re like me and never tried anything like it before. Surprisingly it’s a lot harder than it looks when you actually dive into it. There’s also 30 day challenges and if you have any yoga clothes stores around you, check to see if they do classes. Look into your community to see if any yoga groups have any sessions you can attend. Great way to meet people who are on the same journey or have been through similar things!

After yoga I keep track of everything I’ve done in a notebook. I write down how long I’ve meditated/yoga and if I had any thoughts that distracted me during it & how I felt afterwards. It helps me think about why I had those thoughts interrupt and what I should do.

Throughout my day I’ll sometimes carry around a crystal with me depending on my mood and what I feel I need. You can research different meanings for them but they’re definitely helpful. If my mind begins to wonder I’ll stop myself and say positive affirmations about myself.

If you’re really having a day and it just feels like nothing you do is working, write down as many things about yourself that you love. Literally rewire your subconscious self-beliefs into believing you love yourself 100 percent. Even if you might think you don’t like something about yourself, write that love it anyways. This is still an everyday journey for myself personally because I may not like certain features about myself but I remind myself at least I have this body to carry my soul and life around into the world. It’s a journey that everyday you have to remember to tell yourself positive things. Fill up an entire page of positive affirmations. Self love is key. Your mind really listens to what you say about yourself. If you constantly tell yourself over and over “I’m so gross, I’m sick, I’m disgusting etc.” your body is going to respond to that message and make you start to feel sick. But if you’re loving and caring to yourself and say “I am healthy, I’m beautiful, I feel so amazing” then you’re gonna feel that way. Start with “I ams” I am beautiful, I am smart, I am abundant, I am healthy, I am grateful and so on. You can even go from head to toe and say you love every inch of each body part. There’s also helpful positive affirmations guided videos on YouTube.

At night time before you go to bed, write down in a journal how your day went and literally just let go and write about anything. No one will see it. It’s just you and your journal. But write. I write about my day and my prayers for the night. I’ve been writing in the journals that @taylorswift attached to the Lover booklets. She’s a very successful woman and guess what, she wrote in journals since she was a little girl. It’s so therapeutic to just let out how you feel on the pages of a book instead of hitting send on that tweet that you might end up deleting because you don’t want people to see how so and so at work hurt your feelings.

I can’t tell you how much this routine has changed my life. It can help yours too. I promise. Try this routine for a month and see how it changes your life, & mindset about yourself. Do your research. There’s so much that’s available to you on these topics. Read self help books like “You Are A Bassass” make vision boards of your dreams and goals. Listen to podcasts. Watch videos like Lavendaire, Isabel Palacios and Leeor! Anything with Oprah talking about her spirituality journey is so inspiring. I even watched “A Wrinkle In Time” because of her.

There’s many other ways that help like working out, coloring, painting, clean, doing your own nails, playing with pets, spending time with family, take baths, have a self care spa day. You can actually get L-Theanine vitamins for stress now, Olley has Goodbye stress gummies. I really hope some of this helps someone. If anyone has any questions please reach out to me. It’s definitely a journey we’re all going through and all we can do is take it one day at a time and continue to move forward with our lives. Always here. ❤️

Also wanted to add some films I’ve watched on Netflix that’s helpful and could help someone too. Healing, The Secret and anything to do with Yoga. Also if anyone has any tips or advice or suggestions I would appreciate them! 😊❤️

Share this with your friends who might find this helpful. ❤️

- Kayla 💗

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warmau · 4 years

Text

{Special} College!AU Shinwon

*this post was commissioned | find all my college aus here | commission info

major: media management

minor: rhetoric

sports: brags about how his long legs are perfect for volleyball, but screamed bloody murder when hongseok spiked the ball in his direction once so you could say,,,,,,,,shinwon’s not a sports person

clubs: drama club (less for the acting, more for the strutting), public speaking, and of course - it’s not a club per say - but the fashion department always loops him into helping them out as an impromptu model

shinwon,,,,,,,,,,really didn’t think he’d even end up going to college,,,,,,,,,,,,,

really he was sort of set on debuting as a model and working it out from there

but after a while, waiting around for work just got boring

so he left the agency he’d signed up with when he was still in highschool and applied to college

much to everyone's collective shock, his parents, sister, and himself included

hui: im so proud he took this step, you know shinwon is bright and im sure he’ll use his brain for good.

shinwon: exactly!

shinwon five seconds later: actually i just realized i have to do homework again and i think im going to drop out?

hongseok: i knew it

shinwon’s reputation is all over the place - he’s kind of known as being messy, beautiful beyond comprehension sure,,,,,

but he’s messy messy

from his dorm room

cluttered with magazines he’s been featured in, his guitar stands, vinyls which no one understands why he buys like this is the twenty-first century ......, and clothing strewn from the lampshade

to his dating history

pretty sure he’s had a hook up with someone from every department available on campus like pre-meds, literature, music, hell even someone in egyptology was smitten by his good looks

and of course ,,,,, his personality

from playing childish tricks on tired masters student jinho, to owning the student held fashion shows with impeccable grace and posture

yuto affectionately refers to shinwon as a rubix cube made of spikes, flowers, and a little bit of hot sauce

shinwon thinks it’s such a compliment, he tries to lean over and grab yuto in for a kiss

(which is refused with an almost punch to the face)

he’s definitely a force on campus and is famous for different reasons with different people

but if there’s one thing shinwon has learned from life it’s that he really cannot stand to give two shits about what people say about him behind his back

not like he’s going to hear it anyway

and he’s blunt to the point where it’s sometimes too much and hongseok on occasion (many occasions) has had to just pick shinwon’s six foot tall body up

and carry him out - as shinwon continues to spew well-deserving facts at whoever it is that tried to start with him

(or any of his friends. someone once made an offhanded comment about yeoone who is way too nice to say anything and shinwon just stopped in and turned on his gucci boots heel to be like “come again?”)

loves when cute shy freshmen get all nervous around him like

“oh my god, he looks like a marble statue! wasn’t he on that one magazine? he’s so pretty~ he must be so cool~”

shinwon: basking in it

hongseok: trying so hard not to tell them about how shinwon is nothing close to cool

has the worst diet imaginable - lives on fast food

and he does NOT work out which adds more confusion

pre-meds will be like “hey,,,,,,so,,,,,,,,,do you have like ibs or something? or is your stomach literally made of iron?”

and shinwon just slaps his scrawny tummy and is like “i don’t know man, but this machine runs smoothly!”

more clothes than he knows what to do with - likes brand names, but cannot afford them unless he has gigs - says he doesnt but totally owns a cheap tracksuit that he lazes around in during campus holidays

backpack covered in old rock band pins

always steals his classmate's pencils

notes stained with coffee

binders unorganized, lost his textbook at a nightclub

really again - does not look like he belongs in college LOL

does media management because it still keeps him in the loop of fashion, but without all the actual drawing and sewing

because no one trusts him near a sewing machine or fabric scissors

the rhetoric minor was a big surprise - but shinwon just goes

“i get grades for talking good”

jinho, twitching: “talking well. you can’t say “talking good”

shinwon: “talking sexy ;) hahaha”

jinho: ill kill him

he is an enigma with a shit-eating grin ,,,,,,,

but he’s also hot. and has perfect proportions,,,,,,,,,,

you,,,,,,,are a fashion major,,,,,,,,who knows the legends about ko shinwon

about how he’s nothing but fire to play with

that being said

you are absolutely, utterly, one hundred percent, totally infatuated with him

he’s been your muse since you first stepped into the fashion building and saw him making his way down the hall

half of someones finished project still pinned to his shoulders, messy orange hair pulled up with bobby pins and that smile

almost,,,,,, angelically,,,,,, twisted?

you had no idea how to describe it - but you had remembered him and even though you knew no one else's name yet

he was the person you could visualize in an instance

you’d learned his name at your first student held fashion show, where to your dismay he had already been picked by someone else to be their model

and they’d skipped past calling out for him

“shinwon~”

you repeated it again on your lips in a small whisper “shinwon”

it was unique, it was different, and you really really started liking it

everything about him was unique, different, and you can guess,,,,,,,,you were really starting to like him

not like you would ever act on it though

shinwon seemed untouchable, not because he was standoffish - actually he seemed like he’d be super easy to get along with

it was because he was just,,,,,,,,he was just so ,,,,,,, unusual

and you wouldn’t consider yourself a shining star, you were like everyone else

waking up, doing your schoolwork, trying your best to breakthrough in fashion

you had a small group of friends - you had your regular hangout spots - your favorite kind of coffee flavor

you were simple, you would say, and shinwon was not

that’s why he gave you so much inspiration

if you were one speck in the galaxy, he was like a whole milkyway

you had started off just admiring from afar, but as time went back you started sketching too

at first it was what you could conjure from your memories of him

the flashes of him around the fashion department, when you saw him in the library, the orange hair - the sparkling oak brown eyes - the over-the-top outfit he pulled off effortlessly

and when you think you’d filled up half of your sketchbook with stills of him

you started to envision him in your designs

actually, you had lied, you were a simple person

but your mind was not - you might have stuck to simple tones and patterns in your wardrobe

but when it came to clothes you made, you were vibrant and loud and risky

some of your professors had initially mixed up your work, thinking your submitted designs were someone elses

because well ,,,,,,,,,,,,, they just didn’t match

your designs were for someone,,,,,,,,,,,,,,someone like shinwon

bursting with confidence, immune to shame, always ready for a thrill

your goal had quickly went from being able to saying hi to him in the hallway

to one day having him wear an original creation of yours

but getting shinwon as your model was a feat

either he wasn’t doing the show at all, or he was everyone elses number one pick

with long, lithe limbs and an almost wonderland like face

that is ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, until the final project for the semester came up

you were expecting it all to go as usual

the older fashion majors would get first dibs on their models - someone would pick shinwon (if he was even showing up)

and you’d only have to go back to drawing him with your designs rather than seeing them come to life

but to your almost painstakingly obvious shock

that was not the case

shinwon did volunteer to model for the final project - but,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,no one was picking him

actually - everyone was actively avoiding him

and when your turn came around you couldn’t believe you were finally getting to say it

“i’ll pick ko shinwon.”

suddenly there was a swarm of muffled whispers - you couldn’t hear anything clearly but as shinwon strode over to you

he gave you a once over and winked - and the was enough to make your entire body flare up

after everyone got settled with their models, you were shaking with anticipation as shinwon slipped into the seat across from you

“are you cold or am i just so handsome you can’t help shivering?”

he jokes, running a hand through his hair for added effect

“y-yes”

you answer, stupidly unsure of what else to say

he lets out a laugh, leaning over to pat the top of your head which once again sends you into a blank

“cute, so - let’s see what you’ll be dressing me up in huh?”

he leans over and you flounder as you flip to the page with the outfit you’ve chosen to create for your final

it’s inspired by 80s punk and glam - rhinestones, spikes, rainbows

shinwon’s eyes light up when he sees it and he looks at you with a giant smile

“where have you been all my life - this is totally my style!”

i know,,,,,i made it thinking about you,,,,,,,,,,,

is what you want to say - but you just stutter over your words instead

“o-oh, im glad you like it,,,”

he nudges at your elbow and you think electricity rides up your spine

“can’t wait to wear it! by the way-”

he moves his body, gracefully around the table so he’s standing beside you now

it makes everything else melt away as he leans in closer to your face with his own

“don’t listen to what people say about me - and trust me, ok?”

it’s,,,, cryptic - and in the moment you had no clue what he was talking about - but he’s your muse

and he’s inches too close to you

so really - it goes over your head as you nod with moonstruck stars in your eyes

shinwon says his goodbyes and tells you to text him when you want to do measurements

you only realize after he’s gone that,,,,,,,,,,you don’t have his number

so you approach an upperclassmen who usually works with him and politely ask if she might have it

she stops what she’s doing and sighs

“you really picked shinwon for your final project - you’re crazy!”

you look around - not sure if she’s really talking to you - until she huffs

“this is the final - you can’t rely on someone like him!”

someone like him?

“wh-why not, he’s done other shows?”

she shakes her head

“other shows aren’t the final project. he might just not show up on the day or he might get the clothes dirty. he’s fun when there are no consequences but you know this is worth fifty percent of our grade right?”

you’re left sort of speechless and she just mutters that she pities you as she scribbles down the number in your sketchbook and hands it back to you

you turn and realize other students are eyeing you from their station

a lot of them are already doing measurements on their models, while yours

well shinwon just left

you hadn’t stopped him - he just said he had to go

you feel something twist in your stomach but you ignore it

he had said it right - not to listen, and to trust him

the first couple of weeks go by,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, perfectly

you finally suck it up after typing and deleting a text to shinwon about measurements

spending nearly half a day trying to come up with a casual and cool way of asking

and all you get in response is a misspelled “yeha” from him when you make a date and time

you think it’s goofy and cute

and shinwon does show up

charming, joking, making you embarrassed and happy all in the same breath as you take his measurements

wiggling his eyebrows when you ask him to take his shirt off for the chest measurement

excitedly rambling about this underground show he’s seeing on the weekend

mind you - you and him haven’t ever had a conversation before this

shinwon just naturally opens up - having no problem doing the talking as you either 1) stare at him like a puppy or 2) nod enthusiastically in agreement to whatever he’s saying

you’re pretty sure he can tell how much you admire him and with anyone else you’d be dead from the shyness

but with him it’s like,,,,,,,,,it’s like he’s a celebrity to you

so it’s not that bad to be so so so enamored

his flirting doesn’t come off as anything romantic either, just part of his persona

and despite those doubts from other students

“he could just now show up” “he isn’t super reliable” “he might go to a party and just forget in the morning to show up!”

it doesn’t happen - when you need him, shinwon is there

and it’s like a dream come true - watching your outfits slowly come to life on his perfect figure

there is a hiccup at some point

shinwon agrees to meet you on a thursday evening for some help - you had initially been shy about asking him to come and look at fabrics with you

you don’t really ask models for that kind of advice

but when you’d mentioned - he’d been the one to get all giddy at the thought

and, with your heart over the moon, you waited outside the fashion building

for two hours

your phone was barren of any texts - any calls

and even though it hit 10 pm and the store was closed - you stuck it around for a little while

but he ,,,,,,,,,, didn’t show up

it’s fine! he probably had to cram for an exam or something - he seems like the type to push studying to the last minute

you make up the excuse and nod to yourself, happy with the conclusion you’ve drawn

pushing down any doubt that might have tried to bubble up

and it’s just a hiccup - because shinwon bumps into you three days later and snaps his fingers

“AH! we were supposed to go shopping right? i totally forgot! please forgive me! shinwon has been a bad boy!”

he clasps his hands together and pouts and you laugh, telling him it’s totally fine

yuto and jinho who are beside him look confused and so shinwon introduces you as you shyly hand over your sketchbook

because shinwon insists you show his friends your outfit planned

“wow, you’re so talented - these look so much like shinwon.”

yuto compliments, flipping to some of the old drawings you had of shinwon

you forgot about them and try to stutter out an excuse but shinwon is already sticking his nose between the pages with wonder

“woah! you’ve drawn me so much!”

you clasp your hands together - awkward and shy

jinho takes note of the way you can’t help but smile as shinwon continues to muse about how much he likes your drawings

and when you finally get your sketchbook back - shinwon promises he will never forget when you ask him to do something again

he does this by taking your hands in his own and giving them a squeeze

you’re so happy you can’t even speak and again,,,,,,,,,,,,jinho takes note of that

as you scurry past them - realizing you’re late for class now, he turns to shinwon with a tilt of his head

“they seem really sweet. are you sure you’re being nice to them?”

shinwon rolls his eyes

“im always nice”

“no - you did forget to go shopping with them.”

shinwon puffs out his chest with a whine

“because i woke up on the roof at like 5pm - i didn’t remember my own name hyung. now stop grilling me about it - they weren’t mad and so why are you?”

jinho pulls his lips back into a tight line - yuto breaks the tension with a question about lunch and shinwon ignores the side glances jinho still throws his way

you really aren’t mad, just like shinwon said

because he shows up when you ask him to for some extra measurements and test runs on the runway

he’s the same silly, weird, and lovely boy as usual

playing with the sleeves of the half-finished top piece you’re working on -

showing you the new candy bracelet he got

putting his arm around you when he leans over to look at your new sketches

knowing damn well your head goes spinning

“you’re cute when you get all nervous - do you really think im that handsome?”

he makes the joke again and you try to answer but all you can squeak out is “yes?”

he even offers to make it up to you for not showing up - the offer is to go to mcdonalds but it’s still sweet - and you assure him it’s fine, you’re not angry - not at all

but ,,,,,,,, the happiness of those moments with him dulls as more and more hiccups begin to happen

he texts you that he can’t make it to the practice runway - he’s sick

you understand

then he doesn’t text you or tell you anything on the next one - you don’t have your model and all the students shake their head with pity at you

the final date approaches faster

and shinwon,,,,,,,,,,,,,goes ghost

you don’t want to be that person and over text him - but you have to, this is about your grade

suddenly the worries you’d been told about in the beginning of all this start coming true

maybe he got super sick - i should ask his friends, but i don’t know them that well - did i do something wrong?

you don’t get it - every day without word from him is another day closer to the final runway

it stresses you out and you notice the acne coming in - the refusal to eat because it makes your stomach sick

you’re running across campus because you’ve pulled another allnighter working on your designs and fell asleep on accident

when you slam right into someones chest

your books go flying, the yogurt you had bought falls and explodes somewhere behind you

and when you look up you see ------- what was his name ------ jinho?

“oh gosh, im so sorry”

you mutter, leaning down to get your things

jinho realizes you’re scrambling and he helps you - for which you bow over ten times and apologize again for bothering him

but before you continue on your run he asks you, much to your shock

“have you seen shinwon?”

your face pales and you can’t move forward even though you know class has started

you shake your head slowly and jinho lets out a sigh

“how long has it been?”

“maybe two weeks....”

“ah. ill talk to him.”

you perk up - and then just as instantly your shoulders sag - you shouldn’t be so excited over someone whose been ignoring you for no apparent reason

“no it’s ok-”

“isn’t he supposed to be helping you with your project. it’s not ok - he’s being a brat.”

you don’t want to argue because jinho is older and closer to shinwon, but you also don’t want it to seem like you’re begging for his help

“please,,,,,just ask him if i did something wrong?”

you look into jinho’s eyes and it clicks for him

“you like shinwon don’t you?”

your books fall out of your hands again and this time it’s not because you’ve been knocked over

you just don’t know how to answer the sudden question - because you really,,,,,,,,,,,,don’t know

“he’s my muse.”

you start

“and im just,,,,,,,i just don’t want to lose that.”

jinho leans down to help with your books again, he gives you one last look before turning and heading toward the dorms

you don’t even bother getting to class anymore - you just drag yourself to the workrooms in the fashion department and sit beside your final project

it looks much less extravagant on the mannequin then it does on shinwon

and when you open your sketchbook it flips to one of your first drawings you ever did of him

it hurts to think about him.....not even because of my grades......but because........

you shake your head and lay it down on the table

no, you always have to remember what you say. you’re a small tiny star - that boys a milkyway.

jinho finds shinwon in the bathroom of the dorm, the ramones are blasting from his phone and he’s got his hands covered in black hair dye

jumping when he sees his older friend, shinwon grumbles that jinho should at least knock

but jinho crosses his arms, stern gaze unwavering on shinwon

“why are you ignoring that sweet fashion major who obviously idolizes you?”

“im not ignoring them - they’re ignoring me.”

shinwon points a finger

“and no one ignores me, you know this.”

he turns to look at himself in the mirror - making a face as the old orange goes back to his natural thick black

jinho cocks an eyebrow

“really? i just bumped into them and the poor kid looks like a mess.”

“are you saying im lying - look at my phone!”

jinho picks it up from where it’s charging on the bathroom sink

“this isn’t your phone........ is it new?”

“yeah - my last gig gave it to me along with some free clothes, my old ones on my desk but im using this one now”

he scrolls through the texts messages, gagging at some of them, and he finds what he can only assume is your number

it doesn’t have your name - all it says is

“cutest fashion major ive met in a hot minute”

jinho opens the messages and ,,,,,, it’s true - shinwon has sent an abundance of texts to you but ,,,,,,, none of them are answered

it takes three minutes for jinho to figure out what’s going on

he picks up shinwon’s old phone - find your contact (saved with the same corny name) and opens it

shinwon typed your number in..................wrong

and in his old phone are the messages from you that going unanswered

jinho groans

“ko shinwon - you’re an idiot.”

shinwon pokes his head out of the bathroom - “i know that, but what did i do this time?”

you pick your head up after what seems like hours - drool embarrassingly on the edge of the workroom table

did i fall asleep here? guess i missed more than one class.......

you stretch and look down at your sketchbook with tired eyes

“oh you’re awake?”

you jump at the sound of the voice and nearly fall out of your chair when you see shinwon sitting across from you

he’s,,,,,,,,,he’s got black hair now - and he’s not wearing his usual outrageously expensive outfits

he’s just got a flannel over some simple jeans

the sleeves are rolled up and you see those candy bracelets he loves making, the silver rings you’ve sketched on his hands a million times over

“sh-shinwon?”

“wanna hear something hilarious?”

he pulls his phone out and grins

“i was texting the wrong number for a whole two weeks - the person must think im insane! well,,,,,,,,they wouldn’t be wrong.”

you don’t understand - you look down at the screen and see the contact name

“cutest fashion major-”

“ah ah ah don’t look at that - look at the texts.”

he waves his hand and you read them one by one

“hey - do you need me for measurements? you know my body is always ready!” “hey hey hey” “doesn’t a designer need their model?” “are you mad at me? did i do something dumb when i was drunk and i dont remember?” “heeeeeeeelllllllllloooooooo?” “ill make it up to you~ shinwon was a bad boy wasn’t he?” “hey, is everything alright?”

you still don’t really understand - you look up and shinwon is resting his cheek on his palm

“i got a new phone which is why i wasnt getting your texts and you weren’t getting mine.”

something that feels better then relief washes over you

“o-oh, i thought you just ,,,,,,,,, you just didn’t want to help me anymore?”

shinwon makes a dramatic noise and jumps up from his seat - pointing at the outfit on the mannequin

“and miss out on wearing THAT masterpiece, never!”

he rounds the table

“it’s the best design ive ever seen - from the people here and from the magazine shoots ive done.”

he looks at you and for the first time they’re not those crazy, sparkling with mischief eyes

they’re almost,,,,,,,,,,,,soft

“i really love it. i won’t let you down.”

suddenly the stress and the tiredness that had hung over you seems to vanish

you get up to and smile up at him

“well then - i should finish it quick. i won’t let you down either!”

shinwon grins and when he reaches over to ruffle your hair like he’s done many times before

it’s like gravity refuses to let him - instead all the wires in his brain connect and he puts his hand on your shoulder gently

tugging you into his chest and into a hug

he smells like ,,,,,,,, fresh laundry and there’s the residual lingering from the hair dye

but there’s also the smell of his skin and the warmth of his tall frame

it sends an earthquake through you - but it makes you feel safe too

and shinwon,,,,,,,,,,,,shinwon can’t believe that there’s someone on this earth who fits so perfectly into his arms

for the first time in...............ever ...........shinwon pulls away and misses the feeling instantly

he doesn’t show it - he starts blabbering to forget the mess starting up in his brain

and you are content, as always, to go along with him

shinwon feels like something has taken him over when he offers to walk you to your dorm and you think nothing of it

waving goodbye as you go inside and some students pass by shinwon in awe

ko shinwon,,,,,,,,walked someone home? and is staring at the spot they just stood in with - is that - is that -?

this time shinwon keeps to his promise - actually he probably goes up and beyond that

he even starts asking if he can come over and see your progress

sitting beside you as you work - much to the shock of everyone else

because,,,,,,,, shinwon is never one to sit still

he’s there for measurements, the show, and then he’s out

doing whatever it is he does on campus

someone asks you about it - but you just go “he wanted to come!”

it doesn’t seem all that remarkable to you - you’re just happy to see he’s proven everyone who doubted and didn’t pick him wrong

you start to talk more too, you get excited as the final project comes to a close and the day of the fashion show approaches

you explain to shinwon the colors you chose, the fabrics, the inspo

and he stares at you in wonder this time

but you just can’t wait to see him under the lights - glittering like the beautiful model he is

on the day of the show - you’re excited to see your friends and even some of shinwon’s show up

and as you get ready behind the stage - tailoring the pieces to sit just perfect on shinwon

he watches your fingers work and your concentration and you apologize when you lean in to apply some makeup to his eyes

but he just welcomes it - your touch which was just like everyone elses when this started

feels like heaven all of a sudden

you hear your professor call out the order for the models - shinwon is last and it makes you nervous but you’re also happy because

this outfit is showstopper - it’s shinwon to a T

and it deserves to be the best, so it should be saved for last

you fix one of the lapels and make sure shinwon’s accessories are in order before you take his hands in yours

you look into his eyes - it’s dark behind the curtains but shinwon sees you clear as day

“thank you - you’re the only person who could wear what i’ve made. shinwon, you’re my muse.”

you breathe as you say the word - the word you’ve wanted to say for so long now

“im your muse?”

“yes, im honored to make this outfit for you. and im so happy you worked with me. i couldn’t have done it without you. you look so beautiful-”

shinwon can’t stop what comes over him

it’s not stupid lust like it usually is with him - it’s another worldly force this time

it’s what they sing about in all those love songs - all those songs about wanting to be connected to someone

“no - you look beautiful.”

he presses his lips to yours before you can finish your sentence

and his name is called out for the order

he rushes to the line and you

you are frozen - unsure of what just happened

am in a movie? did shinwon just ,,,,,,,,,,,, kiss me?

you can’t even process it - one of your classmates comes and tugs you toward the audience

you look over your shoulder and shinwon is staring at you from the line

oh my god - i think shinwon just kissed me for real.

the fashion show is a haze - you want to pay attention, but you keep touching your lips

it’s not until the shinwon steps out into the limelight and struts with everything he’s got

flaunting your design, making it move and sparkle just like you had seen in your vision

the crowd all let out a wave of oohs~ and the professors who are judging seem to be impressed

and when he makes his way to the turn - he spots you - the background music seems to stop

the people seem to disappear

he was fucking right - you are beautiful

you get rave reviews on your outfit - people flock to you after the show to ask about it

you want to answer questions and thank everyone - but you are looking for him

you’re looking for shinwon

who is in turn, looking for you - ignoring the people who try to get in his way

he pulls you out from the conversation - waving off the complaints of others

and tugs you through the crowded stage until you guys are alone - stuffed into a corner of costume racks and abandoned makeup stations

“shinwon why did you-”

“am i just your muse? am i just someone you idolize - or do you - do you -”

he has never struggled this much in his life

you’re looking at him with such purity that it feels overwhelming as he puts his hands on your face and kisses you again

you melt into it and he eats it up - until you’re caught by stagehands who usher you annoyingly back out into the mess of people

jinho, yuto, hongseok and hui who came to see shinwon spot you guys and jinho’s eyes avert right to your hand - in shinwon’s

he smiles - he knew all along

because yes, you looked at shinwon like he was the only man in the world but

jinho had never seen shinwon text someone seven times in a row

and he sure as hell had never seen shinwon reject an oncoming hookup like he had for the past couple of weeks

“so - something you want to tell us?”

hongseok asks, and hui looks at you and then at shinwon

shinwon shrugs

“nah not really, just that ,,,,,,,,,,, well,,,,,,,,,,,”

he shakes your hands a little and you go red

“looks like ko shinwon is off the market! sorry ladies and gentlemen - i think ive found,,,,,,,,,,,,what’s a word for it,,,,,,,,,,,,,, my muse?”

so dating shinwon,,,,,,,,,is like a whole new world for you

you were always so sure you’d be a secret admirer - at most someone who got to work with him

but now you were like ,,,,,,, you were his significant other ,,,,,,,,,,

you were basically like an overnight star

you showed up the next morning after the fashion show and everyone was just like

“YOU LOCKED DOWN SHINWON? KO SHINWON? HOW? WAS IT MAGIC?”

shinwon is so dramatic you know he opened up his contacts and deleted nearly everyone he’d ever fooled around with and you’re like

that’s not necessary and he’s like

“once im committed im committed. i should delete hui’s number too i think he has a crush on me”

hui in his composition class: my shinwon senses are telling me im being clowned

no one knew,,,,,,,shinwon could love someone so hard

for most of his life he’s taken everything happy-go-lucky, he’s always just lived by the flow

but now he’s like ,,,,,,,,,, he’s like a changed person

you are the only thing he seems to put real effort into

which you actually know isn’t true, shinwon takes modeling seriously and although his studying is slacking

you are there to encourage him

because jinho and hongseok poking at him for never doing his homework is not going to get shinwon a degree

so you offer to help him study and your first dates consist on you trying to get him from a D to at least a C+ in most of his classes

he probably doesn’t even know how to properly use excel so you’re like babe let me

as you date him, you realize that the uniqueness you fell for in the first place stays true with shinwon

there’s so much more to him - like his musical talents and his secret nerdiness

and also the anxiety that sometimes spikes in his throat and that he plays off but that now,,,,,,,,,now he has someone who’ll take these thing seriously

you can see it - when he can’t figure out his schoolwork or when a gig gets canceled on him

the furrow of his brow - the silliness gone from his face and in the beginning he tries to keep up appearances

but you just pull his long body down to yours and you tell him that nothing in this world is going to stop him from being successful

“you were born to shine, shinwon. it’s why i saw you for a second and never forgot”

“babe.............omg you had a crush on me from first sight?”

“im trying to be serious ko shinwon”

him wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you in closer “i know but like oooo a crush on me hehe you’re so cute”

you: rolling your eyes but also it’s true,,,,,,kinda

he gives you a tour of the infamous madhouse dorm - stock full of vinyls, his guitar, and brand name clothes on the floor

you’re kinda like “ooo this is cute” picking up a sweater off the floor and he’s like that’s versace i think?

you: and it’s on the floor

shinwon, shrugging: i ran out of hangers

oh my god shopping for anything with shinwon is a trip he somehow always tries to buy something that’s shiny and not useful and you’re like hey hey no

you become his impulse control - like at least 75% of it. the other 25% is jinho yelling at him over the phone

he’s such a cutie pie he loves making those candy bracelets with little rainbow charms and he makes some for you with your favorite song lyrics

which he hums as he puts on your wrist

and you promise not to take it off - which shinwon is more proud about then he should be

gives you nose kisses a lot - ruffles your hair a lot - asks you to sit on his lap and you’re like no we’re in public

loves it when you sit behind him and put your hands in his hair as he flips through the tv channels or plays a video game

won’t admit how much it kinda turns him on when you tug it - but you learn

you once are making out and shinwon keeps trying to tug at your shirt and you’re just like “listen to me shinwon, stop rushing me.” and oooooooooh my gooooooooooood

he thinks he sees stars

you most of the time: his precious angel who he can make all blushy with just some cheesy words

you also: bosses him around and points out his bullshit (which he is very into)

you and shinwon probably rock halloween parties - even though you’re not to big on the whole scene - you make the costumes and they’re killer and shinwon is just like

“they made this. for me. only me. only i get to wear the clothes they made”

complains about how when you’re a rich famous designer everyone else is gonna get to wear your masterpieces

makes you promise you’ll make exclusive outfits just for him

he does the MOST embarrassing thing ever

he marches into the fashion dept workroom one afternoon and he’s like “everyone, psa: when im a model i want to by chosen by ONE person and ONE person only - you know who!”

he winks your way and the whole room (including you) groans

like no one was planning on it anyway shinwon - he just lives for theatrics doesn’t he

his modeling gigs usually last a long time and go late into the night and he doesn’t expect you to stay up or anything

maybe send a text and a photo or whatever

but when he comes back to the dorms and you’re waiting in his bed wearing one of his led zepplin tshirts he just

he just gets all giddy - can’t keep his hands to his damn self

but also shinwon is a bad texter to everyone

but you

you get constant updates and constant photos which are demanded to become your phone background now

hongseok told you to change it to hui as a joke once but you guys were both like

no,,,,,,,shinwon might actually cry

jinho basically adores you because you actually do your work and try to help improve shinwon

but he’s also big brother mode where he’s like shinwon you better not screw this up or i will end you :)

yuto silently agrees - so does basically everyone else

jealous shinwon is ,,,,,,, like a yappy baby puppy

wooseok visits campus - a younger friend of the groups and he doesn’t know you’re dating shinwon

but he thinks you’re SOOOOOOO cute and tells everyone and shinwon just goes huffy like

“no. mine.” and wooseok is like oh ok-

shinwon: “see my phone wallpaper - it’s us kissing. see these sneakers - it was a gift from them on our anniversary - see this bracelet on their wrist? i made it and -”

everyone: OK SHUT UP

you finished your old sketchbook and you wanted to throw it out - but shinwon salvaged it and sometimes he opens it and traces the sketches you did of him

and he just,,,,,,,,,,feels so good knowing you’ve loved him for a while - and he thought he’d never have something so real and powerful

you once jokingly tell shinwon as you’re sitting cross-legged across from him in the park that you used to say you were a tiny star and he was a milkyway

and he just blinks and shakes his head

“no - if im a milkyway, you’re my entire galaxy.”

and then hung his head because OK CORNY but it’s true,,,,,,it’s so true

shinwon is always opening up the world for you - from music to art to whatever

he’s still your muse - even if he’s your boyfriend

but now instead of having to see him from all these miles away - like he’s some untouchable force

he’s sitting beside you

strumming on his guitar, hair messy and only an arms length away

you lean over and kiss his neck and he chuckles as he continues to play and you continue to sketch

only to realize some things never change

the page full of shinwon, and his heart is full of you ~

#pentagon scenarios #pentagon au #pentagon imagines #shinwon scenarios #shinwon imagines #shinwon au #shinwon #pentagon #ptg scenarios #ptg au #ptg imagines #college au #writing commissions #this really ......... helped me

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chroma-ki · 4 years

Text

Two Hearts, One Mind

This is a one-shot BakuDeku fic that I wrote and posted on AO3 about a month ago. I posted the link onto my blog a while ago, but wanted to get a copy of it up on here as well to spread the love.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653701

Summary:

It was almost like they were kids again, curled under a blanket in Izuku’s childhood bedroom - talking of heroes and villains and imagined futures. But they weren’t children anymore. Life had swallowed them whole, crushed them down and spat them back out into mangled versions of themselves that no longer fit together the same.

AKA - A sleep-deprived and anxiety-filled Deku runs into his childhood friend and current rival in the middle of the night. Kacchan wont let him get away so easily.

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In the heavy, dreary silence of night that settled over the Alliance Heights common room, Izuku Midoriya rubbed his face for the hundredth time, fighting against sleep, as he scrawled another note onto the page in front of him.

With the next big exam right around the corner and his work study program keeping him from attending class on a daily basis, Izuku had spent the last three days studying during every free moment. Between his work study, daily courses and his extracurricular training with All Might, the 24 hours in a day felt like not nearly enough.

Free time was a luxury he didn’t get to have. It had been that way since before UA. Since he’d first met All Might, really. At this point, the drive to push forward, to go beyond his limits, was like a constant mantra in his head.

He needed to seize the moment - every moment - if he wanted to reach his goal. No excuse was good enough; no pain great enough. He had too many people counting on him to succeed - to many promises to keep - to himself and to others.

But in times like this, in moments when the pressure built too much, the enormity of his dreams felt like an insurmountable weight upon his shoulders; pressure so intense it threatened to crush him completely.

His brain was a muddled mess, his body sore and aching from a long day of training. Maybe a few hours of sleep would fix it. Maybe if he closed his eyes for just a moment, he would finally get some peace; some relief.

Izuku’s heavy-lidded eyes searched for the clock at the other end of the room, squinting to read the time thanks to his sleep-deprived brain, and couldn’t help but to let out a defeated sigh as it read 4:05am. He’d been studying for five hours; much longer than he’d initially planned.

Another all-nighter . All Might was going to kill him if he kept overdoing it like this.

An unexpected racket sounded from down the hall, startling Izuku into reluctant alertness. It was too early for any of his classmates to be awake, but the thought alone was enough to have him packing up his books and flipping off the common room light, preparing to slip out and back up to his room as quickly as possible.

He was too exhausted to make pleasant conversation; too drained to offer a smile. Running into anyone would only require explanations from him that he didn’t have the energy to give.

As Izuku hastily shoved the last notebook into his backpack, a familiar disarray of blonde hair came into view and Kacchan stumbled his way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes dazed with sleep and a muted yawn on his lips. Izuku froze.

Like prey caught by its predator, he only watched in tense silence as Kacchan blinked - aware of the moment his childhood friend caught on to his presence in the room, even in the darkness of night.

“What the - What the hell are you doing here, Deku?”

Kacchan’s voice was rough, gravelly in his half-awake state, and an annoyed frown played across his lips as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and took in Izuku’s disheveled appearance; the backpack in his hands. His eyes narrowed in what Izuku could only interpret as disdain.

“I-,” Izuku started, and then paused. Nothing he said would satisfy Kacchan anyway. It never did. “I was just leaving.”

Without another word, Izuku zipped his backpack closed and threw it over his shoulder in one swift motion. Making a quick bee-line for the hallway, he kept his eyes on the ground, every inch of his body aware of Kacchan’s presence - until a hard, muscled arm whipped up to block his path.

“As if,” Kacchan growled, the rough grate of his voice like the scratch of sandpaper against Izuku’s already frayed nerves.

It was enough to cause Izuku’s gaze to lift; his eyes meeting ones of deep blood red. His breath caught in his throat. From fear or something else in the charged space between them, he wasn’t sure, but their eyes held nonetheless.

He prepared himself for what could only be a string of insults, a lash at his pride or whatever else Kacchan felt like throwing his way this early in the morning - but none came.

For a moment, they only stared at each other in tense silence. Then, Kacchan lowered his arm and turned toward the kitchen counter without another word; pulling out one glass, then another. Izuku watched with anticipation as Kacchan filled both glasses with water from the tap, taking a deep gulp of his own, and pushing the other towards the edge of the counter; toward Izuku.

A silent offer.

Izuku found himself at an impasse - the desperate desire to escape to the confines of his room and allow himself to rest, if only for five minutes, warring with the magnetic pull of Kacchan’s presence.

Lifting his stiff and aching arm, he reached out a hesitant hand toward the glass, allowing himself a small sip and waited for Kacchan to make a move - to set the pace of this interaction.

“Talk. Now, nerd. What were you doing down here before I caught you?” Kacchan finally asked, his tone acquisitory. “Must have been up to no good, if you thought you could sneak away from me so easily.”

Izuku let out an exasperated sigh. God , was he not in the mood for this.

“I was studying. That’s all,” he spat bluntly, not entirely prepared for the way his voice came out in a clipped, irritated tone - more bravado than he actually felt. “Are you satisfied?”

He was definitely losing his mind.

Kacchan’s eyes widened slightly - but he didn’t snap back. It seemed he was also ill-prepared for sass this early in the morning.

His eyes flashed in the dim light of the room, the corners of his mouth turning down into a scowl, but otherwise Kacchan seemed calm; calculated. A side of the explosive boy that Izuku knew existed, yet rarely saw up close.

“Not in the slightest, nerd,” Kacchan muttered in way of reply before brushing past Izuku and heading for the front door of the dorms. Without another word, he opened it and left it wide as he stepped out onto the front porch of the dorms and into the still, black night.

There was little need to suggest that Izuku should follow. It was implied, as most things were when it came to Kacchan. It was a dance they had performed time and time again. And Kacchan always took the lead.

With a resigned droop of his shoulders, he followed Kacchan outside and stepped into the cool night air, taking in a deep breath that filled his lungs. The crisp chill of the air sang to Izuku’s senses, pulling him back to a state of alertness he hadn’t known in hours.

Until now, he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed a breath of fresh air - or how much his body craved the glass of water that he still held firm in his hand. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume Kacchan was actually being...considerate. But assuming Kacchan’s intentions when it came to him was something out of the realm of Izuku’s expertise.

Since their second fight at Ground Beta - since all their dirty laundry had been bared to each other in a blur of fists and rage - Izuku knew that there was more to Kacchan that he had yet to uncover. More to the boy he’d spent his entire life chasing. No matter how tired he was, no matter how worn down and beaten, Kacchan’s hold on him was like a vice grip around his heart. As it had always been.

Kacchan sat on the porch step, his back to Izuku, as he gazed out into the empty night. A picture of stoic perfection against the dark sky. Despite the rift that had grown between them over the years, it was a sight Izuku thought he might never tire of.

Without invitation, he slowly made his way forward and lowered himself to the step at Kacchan’s side, his gaze following Kacchan’s as they both stared at nothing; locked in their own heads. The moment felt more private - intimate - now that they were outside. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him nervous. After a brief moment to collect himself, he spoke.

“I’m not trying to hide anything from you. Honestly. I really was just studying.”

“Hah,” Kacchan scoffed, his gaze never moving, but his demeanor remained cool; distant. “You lie too easily for someone who claims not to hide anything. Yet you somehow still manage to be shit at it. Why is that?”

Izuku only frowned in confusion, unsure of what to say. Why did Kacchan always assume the worst of him? Claim that he was keeping secrets? It was knowledge that didn’t sit well in his head. Kacchan knew the only big secret Izuku really had. What else was there to tell?

He felt the familiar feeling of frustration rise in his chest.

“You obviously didn’t sleep, if the horrendous bags under your eyes are any indication,” Kacchan continued. “Everyone else managed to study without turning themselves into a pathetic mess. So what’s the deal? If you’ve got something bothering you, just spit it out. Pisses me off that you don’t say what you actually think.”

Izuku took a moment to ponder the boy’s words before answering matter-of-factly.

“I have to do better. It’s as simple as that. I have to try harder than anyone else here if I want to succeed. What does it matter how I get there? I’ll keep going until I have what it takes.”

Kacchan turned to him then, his lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line; his crimson eyes searching for answers in deep pools of green. He opened his mouth and paused, as if warring within himself over what to say, and then spoke.

“Jeez, Deku. You always say stupid crap like that just to piss me off, don’t you?”

“No, I -"

“Listen here, nerd. Stop with the bullshit,” Kacchan snapped, his voice dropping to a vicious, low note. “Why bother making yourself sound so noble, huh? Like you’re somehow so much more driven than the rest of us just because All Might gave you his stupid power.”

The words coming out of his mouth sounded raw - unrestrained - and they cut through Izuku like a searing blade in his vulnerable state.

“All of this - gettting into UA, training to be a hero, getting your stupid provisional license - it’s all been so easy for you. You’ve got All Might giving you everything you could possibly need. But, if you run yourself into the ground worrying over stupid shit, then it will have all been for nothing . We don’t all have our dreams handed to us on a silver fucking platter.”

The explosive boy rarely spoke so much. But when he did it was always what he really thought - what he really felt . Kacchan wasn’t one to beat around the bush. It dove straight under Izuku’s skin, boiled his blood, in a way that he hated.

He was so tired; worn down and running on fumes - and hovering way too close to the edge of sanity to hold back the thoughts raging around in his brain.

“Y- You think this is easy for me? Hah,” Izuku scoffed, the deliriousness making him brave.

Kacchan’s eyes widened slightly but they held Izuku’s firm and true as his fears and anxieties came pouring from his mouth like a bursting dam.

“You’re right. Meeting All Might,becoming his successor, learning from him, it’s more than I ever could have dreamed. He’s had my back since the beginning - and his help is more than I deserve - but it will only get me so far. You don’t think I’m reminded every single day of how lucky I am that he chose me? You think I’m so full of myself that I wouldn’t see the big picture?”

The words were spilling out of him so quickly, he could barely contain himself. The building pressure of having to prove himself, having to turn himself into someone that was worthy of the gift All Might had given him, had already been eating at him for months. He’d done everything... everything he possibly could to reach this point. And now, having to justify it to Kacchan was only evidence that he needed to work harder - that he had more to prove.

“You were born with a quirk. I had to earn mine. And I’ve spent every day since pushing harder and harder to prove that I’m worthy of what he gave me. Me - a useless, quirkless nobody who never deserved a second glance. Not even from you. So no, it hasn’t been fucking easy , Kacchan. Just because you know my secret doesn’t mean you know how I feel.”

When he was finished, Izuku resisted the urge to slap his own hand over his stupid mouth. He’d really gone and done it now - he just knew it.

Kacchan’s body was tense beside him, his explosive hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides. Izuku waited, holding his breath in anticipation of the backlash he knew would come. Instead, Kacchan’s mouth turned up into a satisfied smirk.

“Fucking finally.”

Izuku could only gape.

“It’s about damn time, Deku,” He continued, the growl in his voice sending shivers down Izuku’s spine; the rumble of thunder before a storm. “You’ve got my attention. So go ahead. Yell. Rage at me. Give me everything you’ve got. Make me understand.”

“Why?” Izuku asked, unable to keep the question to himself.

“All Might already told me his side of the story after our fight,” Kacchan explained, pushing forward on the palms of his hands so that his face was only inches from Izuku’s. “So tell me yours. Fill in the pieces I’m missing. Let me inside that thick head of yours - and maybe I’ll listen.”

Izuku wasn’t quite sure he was hearing correctly. Maybe he’d fallen asleep on the couch and all of this was some messed up dream concocted by his overloaded brain. But the coil of dreaded anticipation in his stomach felt real. The brush of Kacchan’s breath against his face felt real.

“What do you want to know?” He asked, the words a breathless whisper on his tongue.

“Everything.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Kacchan. Ask me, and I will answer honestly.”

Kacchan’s gaze narrowed, but the intensity in them didn’t lessen. Ever since they were children, Kacchan had been a master of intimidation - among many other things. He was used to getting what he wanted. But Izuku had never been good at giving Kacchan what he wanted. Maybe this time could be different. Maybe things could change.

“Let’s start with the day of the sludge villain attack,” Kacchan started, matter-of-factly, finally giving Izuku a reprieve as his demeanor relaxed. “When you ran in to save me.”

Izuku slowly nodded his agreement.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

Kacchan rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Why did you run in to save me?”

This wasn’t the type of question Izuku had been expecting.

“All Might said that’s when he decided to give you his power. So, tell me. What were you thinking when it happened?”

It took Izuku a moment to formulate an answer. But when he did, he had to turn his eyes away from Kacchan’s intense gaze. His answers were meant to be honest, but that didn’t mean Kacchan would like them.

That was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? The open, honest truth. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I think it was the look on your face,” he answered, his voice coming out small.

He felt more than saw Kacchan shift uncomfortably beside him.

“Explain.”

“I don’t know. When I saw your face - when I knew it was you - my body just moved. It- It looked like you were asking for help. Even if I didn’t have a quirk - even if I was useless - I had to save you. There was no other option.”

“I wasn’t,” Kacchan muttered, but there was no bite in his words. “Asking for your help, I mean...”

“You didn’t have to. It was you.”

The air was pulled taut between them - a worn, frayed line damaged by years of resentment, anger and pride.

Even with his vision trained on the step below his feet, Izuku could feel Kacchan’s eyes on him like a searing brand. It was making his heart race; his stomach flip. This conversation wasn’t like their other talks; talks that had involved a fury of fists and broken screams.

This was new.

It was a few awkward seconds before Kacchan spoke again - actively avoiding Izuku’s comment - but he’d heard it all the same. He was listening.

“Next question. When was the first time you used it? The power, I mean.”

“The day of the entrance exam,” Izuku answered without hesitation.

“You- You what?”

“I used it for the first time the day of the entrance exam. Wrecked by body completely,” Izuku said, a huff of a laugh on his lips. “You would have hated it. I was pathetic.”

“What the hell, Deku?”

“I had ten months to get myself ready for the exam. Ten months of training to prepare my body for this quirk,” He said, lifting his crooked hand as he spoke - allowing a spark of green lighting to course through his fingers. “It was hard, but I finished that training the morning of the exam. It’s not like I really had time to test it out first.”

“So, you’re telling me that you passed the entrance exam - into the highest rated hero course in the country - without ever using your quirk before? Without even testing it out? Don’t you hear how ridiculous that sounds?” Kacchan’s voice was quiet, but wavered on a hysterical edge. “You really are something else, you know that?”

Izuku’s eyes were drawn back to Kacchan like a moth to flame. The boy he’d known all his life was watching him with an expression he’d never seen before. His crimson eyes gleamed in the darkness but - at least for the moment - they were for no one and nothing in the world but Izuku.

Since when had Kacchan started looking at him like that? It made Izuku’s breath catch in his chest.

“I know. But don’t you see? Passing the exam, getting into UA, everything I’ve done since then - none of it was enough. It took me months of training - months of analyzing and study - just to be able to use it without breaking apart entirely. Literally.”

Izuku didn’t bother to hide the solemn look that he knew must be on his face as he gave his thoughts voice.

“I have months to play years of catch-up. I see that every time I look at our classmates. Every time I look at you. What I am now - who I am now - still isn’t enough. That’s what bothers me.”

Kacchan seemed to contemplate his words a moment, but his penchant for insults seemed worn out - along with his pride. This Kacchan was exposed - unguarded and honest.

“Now that I think I can understand. The ‘not feeling like enough’ shit.”

Kacchan’s knuckles were white, skin and bone straining with the pressure in which he clenched them, but after a few moments he let out a disgruntled groan and flopped himself onto his back against the porch. He stared up the ceiling, unseeing, before starting again.

“Ever since my quirk manifested, people have always had their eyes on me. Like they were just watching - waiting to see what I would become. They told me I was special. And I believed them. I- fuck. I’m not good at this, dammit.”

Izuku watched as a pained expression crossed Kacchan’s face.

“I thought their praise meant that I was strong. But I was wrong. It made me blind. I didn’t see that until I got to UA. Until you-” He paused. “It made me question a lot of shit about myself.”

Izuku knew what it cost Kacchan to say such things aloud; the vulnerability it exposed to acknowledge any sign of weakness. But for Kacchan to have thought that he wasn’t enough was… incomprehensible to Izuku.

As quietly as he could, Izuku laid back on the ground next to Kacchan - risking closeness with the boy who’d always been his inspiration. Kacchan didn’t seem inclined to move away, so instead they lay side by side, just allowing themselves to inhabit that same headspace - be on the same page, for once. It was like drawing in a breath of fresh air.

Izuku felt more alive than he had in days.

For a few minutes they stayed in comfortable silence, only the sounds of their breath and the songs of crickets leaking into the night air around them before Izuku picked up the thread of conversation, his voice a whisper of breath between them.

“What’s the next question?”

For a while they went back and forth like that - Kacchan interrogating him with question after unexpected question while Izuku cast aside the filter of his mind and poured out truth after truth. It felt good - more than good. The weight of his anxieties didn’t feel so heavy, as he was sharing them with Kacchan.

At some point, they rolled to face one another and Izuku couldn’t hide his smile against the expressiveness of Kaccchan’s face as they spoke; his striking features mesmerizing as the first changing colors of sunrise danced along the horizon.

But maybe time was ironing out their kinks. Maybe each time they pulled back the curtain, just long enough to truly see each other, they were able to discover where the pieces used to fit. Where they could fit again.

They spoke of numerous adventures - those lived together and those lived apart. They spoke of fighting styles and refined techniques. They spoke of good times and bad, of fights won and lost; they spoke of All Might.

“I don’t have to like it,” Kacchan said, a small smirk on his face. “But I understand what he saw in you - why he picked you.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku asked, leaning his cheek flat against the floor, relishing in the coolness of it against his flushed face.

“I've seen it too. Ever since we were kids. Always pissed me off,” Kacchan said, reaching out a hand and poking Izuku none-too-lightly in the chest. “ That’s one of the reasons why you shouldn’t be worryin’.”

“If you say so, Kacchan.”

“Damn right, I say so,” Kacchan huffed, his crimson eyes drifting closed under the weight of exhaustion. “Don’t let that stupid head of yours get in the way. Stay beside me, Deku. Don’t let yourself fall behind. Keep fighting, and I’ll fight with you.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” Izuku mumbled, a yawn escaping his mouth as he followed Kacchan’s lead and let his eyes fall shut.

Consciousness was fleeting and Izuku felt himself drifting as his relaxed body and mind fought to succumb to its most basic needs. But he didn’t want this moment to end.

In his half-conscious state, he felt something brush his face, pushing the hair from his eyes, but couldn’t bother to open them to see what it was.

“Sleep, nerd. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for class.”

Izuku nodded mutely but reached out blindly, his hand searching for Kacchan’s arm but instead found the solid planes of his chest. That would do.

“Stay.”

Kacchan said nothing in way of reply, but Izuku felt the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his scarred hand and allowed himself to succumb to the blissful darkness. He drifted off to sleep with the thought in his head that, as long as Kacchan was by his side, everything might just be okay.

When the bright morning sun woke him hours later, Izuku found his hand twisted in the fabric of Kacchan’s white shirt and the explosive boy sleeping like the dead beside him.

#bakudeku #katsudeku #deku #kacchan #bakugo katsuki #midorya izuku #izuku midoriya #mha #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #my hero academia

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opinionated810 · 5 years

Note

Most likely down for a threesome with another member and you, and who is the bandmate and why.

*Warning: this is a long post!

*Keep in mind this is just my opinion and what I think would happen. I really tried to not go with the obvious choice each time. I really thought about how they act together and how I think they’d act sexually together with you.

*Note: The WayV members were a bit difficult to analyze for two reasons. The first is that I’m least familiar with them so I’m not sure I know their personalities 100% yet. Secondly, they have less public interaction with the rest of NCT (unfortunately) so I’m not completely sure how they work and get on with non-WayV members.

MOST INTO THREESOMES

*Yuta (with Lucas): This may seem like an odd pairing at first but I think it makes sense for both of them (and you). First, they both have this excitable, youthful energy that would work together to give you a really good time! Plus, they are both very caring and loving men who would take really good care of you - before, during, and after sex. Yuta and Lucas both seem like they would be open to new and/or unusual sexual experiences and I can see them being very into having a threesome with you. Their openness to new experiences (not just sexual ones) is another reason why I think they’d be good together in a threesome with you.

*Taeil (with Jungwoo): Taeil is so easygoing that I think he’d work best with someone who is also pretty easygoing. Jungwoo and Taeil’s humor would make your threesome fun and light, despite the fact that both of them can get rough sometimes. There would be plenty of laughter and lighthearted jokes, but when it came down to it, the guys would make sure you had a good time. As an added bonus, there would be lots of cuddles (especially from Jungwoo) when you were finished. Overall, Taeil would totally be up for a threesome provided that all three parties involved were on the same page.

*Jungwoo (with Johnny): I think Jungwoo loves sex and would try almost anything once. When it’s just the two of you in bed, he lets you be the boss most of the time. So when you bring in another member, I think he would want the same - someone who would be in charge of you both (not necessarily dom, but just someone who would be in charge and organize the whole situation), which is why I think Johnny makes sense with Jungwoo. Jungwoo and Johnny seem to have a very friendly, lighthearted relationship and I think Jungwoo really looks up to and respects Johnny.

*Johnny (with Taeil): Johnny would be up for a threesome from time to time as long as you were ok with it. I can’t see him having a threesome with a more inexperienced member - I think he wants to share you with someone who knows what he’s doing. Johnny’s enough of a dad-figure to the other members so in a threesome he just wants to relax and not have to guide or teach the other member. That’s why I think Taeil would be a good pair with Johnny. They’re both experienced enough to know what to do. Plus, I feel like they would both be easygoing enough that you could control things and have them do whatever you wanted (if that’s what you wanted). They would also be happy to take control.

*Ten (with Winwin): I think Ten is another member who will try almost anything in bed, so having a threesome with you and another member is intriguing to him. I can really see Ten and Winwin working together to ensure that you’re happy with what they’re doing. And I think that because they’re both dancers, they will really be into worshiping every inch of your body and marveling at the ways you can move and use your own body to get as much pleasure from them as you can. I just picture a mess of tangled arms and legs, hands stroking any available surface, and lots of dirty talking and moaning between the three of you.

*Kun (with Doyoung): I think these two guys are both doms. I think they would love the chance to dom you together in bed. For some reason, I think they would be very compatible even though they both like to be in charge. I picture you lying in bed, blindfolded, while they discuss what they’re going to do to you, then having them put it all into action. Kun seems like he would be up for a threesome, but only if it was on his terms - he would need to control the who, what, when, and where.

*Jeno (with Jaemin): These two are so close that I can totally see them sharing you. I think Jeno would be more up for a threesome than Jaemin, only because Jaemin seems to be a bit more of a romantic and he might not be into sharing you, even with his best friend. I think their close bond would be a huge asset in bed. Neither of them have much (any?) sexual experience so they would feel comfortable with each other, knowing that they were on the same playing field. They would work well together to make sure you had a great time with them. Your threesome would be filled with laughter and playful teasing, but also tons of pleasure!

*Jaehyun (with Doyoung): I know a lot of people see Jaehyun as having a lot of sexual experience and being a bit ‘freaky’ in bed, but I have a hard time fully buying into that. I think he has some experience, but not as much as others seem to think. Jaehyun wouldn’t be totally opposed to the idea of a threesome, but it might take some convincing and long conversations with you and the other member first. I also think that he would need an older member with him in order to reassure him that what they were doing is ok. I can see that Doyoung acts as a kind of moral guide for the other members and Jaehyun would value Doyoung’s support and wisdom in this situation.

*Lucas (with Taeyong): Lucas would need the other member in a threesome to be someone he looked up to, but also someone who he didn’t necessarily interact with on a daily basis. I can see him being slightly embarrassed (but not ashamed) by having a threesome, so Taeyong makes sense for him because they won’t see each other very often after the event. Lucas would let Taeyong take the lead - at least until he was comfortable. Then, I think Lucas wouldn’t hesitate to take control of the situation and direct everyone to your mutual pleasure. And Taeyong would let him.

*Haechan (with Taeil): These two are always touching each other so you know they’re comfortable with each other. I think Haechan would appreciate Taeil’s previous sexual experience - he would be more comfortable knowing someone know’s what they’re doing! Plus, Taeil’s easygoing nature would allow Haechan to explore some of his own fantasies with you without worrying about what Taeil’s reaction would be. Having said all that, I don’t think Haechan would be all that interested in having a threesome - at least for now. Perhaps when he’s a bit older and has more sexual experience under his belt.

*Jaemin (with Jeno): I think Jaemin would ask Jeno to be part of your threesome for the same reasons that Jeno would ask Jaemin (listed above). However, I think Jaemin seems a bit less likely to be into threesomes. I do think he would try it, especially if it was with Jeno. Jaemin just prefers having you all to himself, where he can put all his effort and concentration on you and not have to worry about another person.

*Hendery (with Kun): I can see Hendery being very intrigued by the idea of having a threesome (in fact, I think he probably thinks about it fairly frequently) but not being quite ready to actually go through with it. Bu I can totally see him being into it in a few years. And I think he would want someone with some sexual experience as well, so I think he would ask Kun. Kun seems like he would be open to the idea of a threesome and wouldn’t be shocked or offended when Hendery asked him. I also think, in this situation, Kun would let Hendery be in charge - something he wants but doesn’t always get. Plus, they trust each other enough to let themselves go and have fun with you together.

*Yangyang (with Kun): Like Haechan and Hendery, I don’t think Yangyang would be into threesomes right now, but maybe in a few years. Yangyang would need someone to help calm his random and chaotic ways. Plus, I think he would be more comfortable with someone with some sexual experience. That’s why I think Kun would be a good match with Yangyang. Yangyang would be comfortable enough wit hKun, and Kun would balance some of Yangyang’s wild energy. I think Yangyang would be ok following Kun’s lead, something that come naturally to both of them anyway.

*Mark (with Ten): Mark isn’t interested in threesomes, though I think he gets off on the idea of it or watches porn threesomes. If he did have a threesome with another member, I think Ten would be a good match. Both Mark and Ten have a kind of youthful energy in bed and just want to please you. Their only goal would be to make sure you enjoy yourself. They work well together outside the bedroom and I can’t see it being any different in the bedroom. Their banter and teasing would put all three of you at ease so you could all enjoy yourselves.

*Xiaojun (with Hendery): It’s hard to imagine Xiaojun being into threesomes at the moment, but again, that might change as he gets older. If he were to have a threesome, I think he and Hendery would have fun together with you. They are close in age and have a close relationship in WayV. I think they trust one another fully and would never be embarrassed or ashamed of what they had done together. I’m not totally sure what they’re into sexually, but their close bond would mean that thye would most likely work well together to please you.

*Winwin (with Yuta): This is the pairing that everyone loves. I think Yuta is the only choice for Winwin because of their closeness. Winwin seems like he trust Yuta a lot, which would be important when considering having a threesome. I imgaine that Winwin asks Yuta for advice on a lot things (not just romantic/sex advice) because Yuta is so open and honest. I think that dynamic would be the reason Winwin would only ask Yuta to be part of your threesome. However, I don’t really think Winwin would be interested in a threesome. I think he would be too uncomfortable with all the touching that happens during a threesome.

*Renjun (with Jaemin): I don’t think Renjun is into threesomes now, and I don’t see him being into them in the future (who knows, though). If he were to try one, I can see him asking Jaemin. I think Renjun would be a bit panic-y in the moment and I think Jaemin would be someone who could calm him down and reassure him a bit. I can see them having the same idea during a threesome - that it’s all about you, and that they want to really take their time pleasing you. I think you would need to tell them what you wanted, otherwise it might not happen.

*Taeyong (with Yuta): Taeyong can be so shy (though I think he’s becoming more and more confident) that I don’t think he’d be really into threesomes. I think he would be a bit too intimidated and unsure of himself. However, I do think he likes the idea of threesomes. If he were to have a threesome with another member, I think he would chose Yuta. They get along well and Taeyong would value Yuta’s experience, openness, and confidence. I also think that Yuta would help Taeyong relax and not be so serious in bed. In the moment, I think Taeyong would be hesitant at first - he wouldn’t want to do anything to make anyone uncomfortable, but once he saw that you and Yuta were into it, he’d let go and have fun.

*Doyoung (with Taeyong): I don’t see Doyoung being into threesomes - he want you all to himself. But if he was interested, I think Taeyong would be his choice. Doyoung would need to trust and respect the other member unreservedly - and Taeyong is the member he trusts and respects the most. That’s not to say he doesn’t trust or respect his other members - but as the leader, Taeyong is used to handling stressful and difficult situation and Doyoung would appreciate that. Doyoung would also appreciate the fact that Taeyong would let Doyoung be in charge and could keep what happened in the bedroom just between the three of you.

LEAST INTO THREESOMES

#nct #wayv #nct dream #nct 127 #nct mtl #nct smut #taeil #johnny #taeyong #yuta #kun #doyoung #ten #jaehyun #winwin #jungwoo #lucas #mark #xiaojun #hendery #renjun #jeno #haechan #jaemin #yangyang

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stevie-writes-the-pain-away · 4 years

Text

Alcoholics Anonymous - Chapter Nine

"Hey."

I turned my head and saw Murdoc standing a few metres away, his chiselled features still striking from where he stood. I felt as though Murdoc was either always predictable in the strangest of ways or he was a complete stranger, and there was no in between. Even if I just met him. The air surrounding him usually felt perfectly quintessential as Murdoc was of himself, except he wasn't the same Murdoc I came to know. I felt exactly where I needed to be - or should've been - but he seemed nervous, not wanting to come any closer. I sighed and greeted him with a smile, "Hey." I nudged my head to the side, gesturing him to join me under the roof of the entrance.

He ambled over as a cautious stallion would then pursed his lips like he was lost in thought. It took him a while to say anything, but eventually he took a deep breath in and out, turning my way. "(Y/N) . . ." I looked back at him. "About what happened the other day . . . I-I didn't mean to force myself on you."

I widened my eyes, caught of guard and almost nonplussed. He certainly didn't force himself on me. Sure, the kiss was unexpected, but I let him crawl on top of me with open arms. I acknowledged the idea of silence not equalling "Yes", which I totally understood, but I think kissing him back with fiery passion was my own way of playing into his affection. Or lust. Now I wasn't so sure I knew what I was getting myself into . . . What was his goal that night? Suddenly there were too many questions.

"No, no, Murdoc, you didn't at all." I hesitated to continue in case I wore out the assurance to a questionable degree, but laughed a little. "I . . . actually enjoyed our time together . . . a lot."

Murdoc looked at me with doubtful, departed eyes, clearly just as surprised as me. "But I was also kind of an asshole," he claimed. "Not only was I withdrawing like a child does 'cause we were interrupted but I couldn't even offer to take you home." It meant a lot how much he cared and I would've never expected him to be that type of man, not that that's what was bewildering. If he was insecure about being intimidating in any way, I would've expected him to take an accepted apology with ease.

"Don't worry about it, Muds, I took the bus," I smiled. "That's one less car to pollute the earth," I chuckled to lighten him up.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," I pressed. Our gazes fell into each other like two deep pools of realization. I felt him inch closer with eased in comfort and I recognized that adorable, authentic smile I always dreamed about slipping back onto his face. I love that smile. I would walk into a million busy London, England thoroughfares to make sure it stayed there.

"Well, I guess . . ." he turned back to face onward with aplomb. "On account that I didn't scare you off or anything . . . You're always welcome to my humble abode. And if you need anybody to talk to, I'm just a text away."

I smiled to him, wishing his hands were out of the pockets of his jacket. That way, I could possibly shuffle closer, I could possibly hold one. Or maybe we could hold more than just our hands if Murdoc really felt something between us. "You're always welcome to my home, as well . . ." I paused. "Which, I just realized now, you've never been to."

Murdoc smirked with perked up keenness, "Oh, right." We both eyed each other with the same idea. "And you've still got some of your music to show me, too."

I felt my smile grow. "When are you free next?"

The weekend came faster than expected. My exhilaration for the future certainly helped the boring, drawn-out days sweep by with ease. Cassidy had left with her friends again and wouldn't be back until late in the morning, I assumed, so it would just be me and Murdoc alone. Me and Murdoc alone. Was I possibly too excited for him coming over? Maybe. Was I probably holding my breath? You bet. Either way, I unnecessarily prepared myself for anything and everything.

I'd told Murdoc my address after our last session, and when I heard him knock on the door I knew it couldn't have been anybody else. Placing my phone down and taking one last glance at my now clean apartment, I made my way to the door. Sure enough, when I opened it, I saw the handsome bloke carrying a small, warm smile on his face, "Good evening."

"Hello there," I greeted with nod. It was showering that day and I noticed his choice of clothing; a more comfortable turtleneck sweater, with an oversized leather jacket and simple jeans all drenched from the rain. He kept his classic Cuban heels on though, and I let him in immediately.

As I closed the door I watched him look around, realizing that in the light of my living room lamps his hair wasn't greasy as usual. It's not as if I cared about his hygiene considering I didn't even know how to take care of my own, but when he walked by he smelled quite nice. Stuff like that didn't typically stand out when Murdoc and I crossed paths but I guess something about that day encouraged him to step it up a little. "Nice place," he huffed.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's usually a pigsty, but I figured cleaning for once wouldn't hurt."

"For once or for me?" he smirked, and my face heated up.

"Well, I've gotta make sure my guests feel special," I grinned. I didn't know what to expect of the rest of the evening but part of me was a tad more nervous than I thought I'd be. "Want a little tour?"

"That'd be great," he agreed. Being an apartment, there wasn't much to show. The living room had a barely stocked shelf, coffee table, a single three-person couch and T.V set up on an end table on the opposite wall. Then, on the other side of the doorway, was a two-person dining table with only one chair, an empty kitchen and trash bin. The washroom wasn't anything special, nor was the laundry closet, but I saw Murdoc's interest gravitate towards my bedroom more and more. When I opened the door he smiled at the boredom of my tedious nest; a mattress, small bedside table, laundry basket, and an old, broken dresser drawer.

"There's nothing really here, as you can see, but it's where I spend an unhealthy amount of my free time anyway," I nervously laughed. I invited him inside and he took a look around, admiring my belongings.

I watched as he chuckled, "Did you just move in or something?"

I laughed in return and shook my head, slightly humiliated. "Nah, I just never found the time to decorate or anything. I'd prefer to waste my money on that after the essentials."

"Well, you should treat yourself sometime. Or at least draw a doodle every now and then and hang 'em up." Murdoc turned back to me, his head pulled into another wave of interest. "Where's all your music? Perhaps you could hang those up instead and give the room a little creativity."

I blinked, looking around as I pictured the idea in my head. How could I have not thought of that before? "They're over here," I pointed to one of my dresser drawers. I didn't have enough clothes to fit every cubby, so I simply filled one up with my writing and a few sentimental belongings. I pulled the top drawer open and picked up a few sheets, scanning through them to make sure they weren't any of my intolerable pieces.

I was never sure how to feel about my music. I was no critic, so I just kept writing and improving until I was satisfied, but I never had the confidence in myself to think they were good enough to be shared. And there I was, showing off my work to a professional producer from a music industry who did this shit for a living. It was at that moment of comprehension I completely regretted telling him about my hobbies.

Murdoc took the paper from my hands, reading them over as he made himself comfortable on my mattress. I bit my lip, anxiously yearning for his reaction, but the more he read, the deeper he seemed to have dove into my work. I watched his eyes wander the paper with furrowed brows and wondered whether it was a fortunate or more unfortunate sign. "(Y/N) . . . You wrote this?"

"Y-yeah. I . . . Is it bad?" I felt my gasp hitch.

Murdoc shuffled in his spot and sat up straighter, re-reading the pages he held. "(Y/N), this is really good," he said, clearly as amazed as expressed. I felt a sigh of relief lift the heavy buckets of suspense from my chest and escape through my lips, walking over to sit beside him.

"You really think so?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed. He nudged me with his shoulder, an unexpected sign of validation towards my creation. I smiled so wide I must've looked stupid. I understood my happiness but couldn't perceive why Murdoc appreciating my music made me feel as giddy as it did; more than it would from the approval of others, I mean. Then again, he worked with music everyday, but he was also the only man that I deeply cared about at that point. No wonder I wanted a pat on the back from him so much. "Got a name for it yet?" Murdoc asked.

"Nah . . . It's not like anybody else is gonna see it anyway," I faintly laughed.

"We'll see about that," Murdoc chuckled.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Well, with work like this, there isn't one producer I know that wouldn't dive headfirst into signing you off," he said.

I held my breath. I wasn't expecting Murdoc to absolutely abhor my writing, but his reaction felt almost too good to be true. "I-I don't know about that . . ." I replied under my breath. Murdoc looked at me as if I was just trying to be modest.

"Well, if you're so unsure, you weren't wrong. I am a producer, so I might just steal this myself and release it with my name on it," he joked.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Thanks for behaving so merciful towards my musical complaints."

"Complaints?" Murdoc questioned. "These are more than just complaints," he commented with an insulted tone. "This is fucking art, (Y/N)! What's this one about?"

I looked down to the ripped piece of crinkled paper, then back up to him, our faces only inches apart. "Um . . . Money, I guess you could say. I-I mean, it's more about how a lot of people would prefer money over other things? Especially how some people would rather waste their time and lives for money instead of appreciating what they already have."

Murdoc's eyes grew soft and he hummed a low, gravely noise I'd remember him creating before; a sort of trademarked quirk of his. I hoped it wasn't a sort of scowl or laughter towards me and my stupid stuttering. "Nervous?" he asked. I felt myself lean in close, and it looked as if he might've been as well. "N-no," I whispered. "Just flattered."

"Well, I think it's endearing," he said. Our noses were nearly touching and I felt tempted to lean in for a kiss, and I think he felt the same way as well.

Murdoc's smirk remained and we sat quiet, our lips seconds away from colliding before there was an echoed knock at the front door. Startled, I backed up, looking up to my bedroom door. I saw Murdoc's irritated expression bubble to the surface, gritting his teeth as he turned to the door as well. I could tell he took his No Turn-offs policy very seriously. "I-I'm gonna go get that," I said.

I rose from my spot, reaching for the door handle. "I'll be waiting," Murdoc growled from behind me. I glanced behind my shoulder to see his tongue crawling out through his mischievous grin. His lustful expression, as well as his tongue sliding out between his lips and unrolling like salmon-colour silk was both interesting and arousing. I smirked back, reluctantly leaving the room and heading down the hall.

I unlocked the front door and pulled it open to find Cockblocker Cassidy on the other side. She smiled at me, rushing past me and into the living room. "Change of plans!" she exclaimed.

How lovely, I thought. "I-is that so?" I smiled as sweetly as I could. I watched her hop onto the couch, picking up the remote for the T.V. "Don't you have your keys?"

"I think I left them here by accident," she answered. "At least 'I hope'. I'd hate to lose them again. Remember when I lost them the first time you came out with us?" she laughed.

"Yeah . . . Well, what are you doing here?"

Cassidy turned to me with a cocked eyebrow, "This is my apartment too, isn't it?"

"No, you're right," I corrected myself, "but what are the change of plans?"

"What's this?" I heard from behind me.

I straightened my back as I jumped in my spot and whipped my head around, startled. I smiled awkwardly at Murdoc as he walked down the hallway, inviting himself into our conversation. "U-um, Cass?" Cassidy nodded, placing her feet on the living room table and nestling herself into a comfortable position. Murdoc walked forward, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and Cassidy looked up, instantly alarmed and hopping to her feet like a nun watching a naughty movie. "This is my friend," I smiled.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Murdoc glancing back at me very briefly with a hint of dispirited confusion before smiling back at Cassidy. It hurt me the way he looked at me, but I wasn't sure what made him react so. The two walked closer to each other, their palms meeting in a swift handshake. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. . . . ?"

"Niccals," Murdoc supplied. "Murdoc Niccals. And you're Cassidy?"

"Cassidy Desdemona," she said.

"(Y/N)'s told me a lot about you," Murdoc continued, and to my dismay, I nearly squeaked, gasping in shock. "All good things, I mean," he chuckled.

"I should hope so," Cassidy mumbled, taking a glimpse of my suspicious, twisted grin. She ambled closer in my direction, "You never told me there was a man in your life," and she didn't even bother to whisper. Sometimes I felt like Cassidy's only purpose in my life was to torment me like a sister figure.

"Cass, i-it's not like that-" I stuttered, before looking back at Murdoc. He looked at me, awaiting my answer with apprehension. "I mean . . . I-t's none of your business," I concluded as an attempt to be mature and straight to the point.

Cassidy chuckled, shrugging and proceeding down the hall. "It was nice meeting you, Murdoc," she simpered over her shoulder before retiring for her bedroom.

I sighed and wiped the sweat from my forehead, looking back at Murdoc who rested his hands on his hips. "What could be so important between us it's none of her business?" he teased. I smiled, feeling an urge from every atom of my being to lean in and taste his lips for real, but I felt paranoid knowing Cassidy was hanging around. I sighed with gloom, and Murdoc's smug look dissolved. "Is something wrong?"

"No," answered under my breath. "I'm just . . . Cassidy might as well have eyes everywhere . . . She's the inquisitive type," I said.

Murdoc mouthed an "Oh", looking away awkwardly and it was silent between us as I scratched my arm. "That's alright," he smiled, walking forward and raising his hand to meet my face, his thumb grazing my cheek. "It just means we'll be over at my place more often than yours," he said, coming closer and closer to my face.

"I like your bedroom better anyway," I agreed, my fingers brushing his arm as I traced it over to his hand, holding it in my palm. He moved it back down to my shoulder and to my neck, his nails running through my hair as we moved closer. Our lips were about to meet before his hand left my shoulder, searching his back pocket and pulling out a small slip of paper in front of me. "What's this, you tease?" I light groaned with a smile.

"A little something for your wall," he said, holding his hand in front of me. I looked down to see a silly sketch, reminding me of the first time he ever attempted a drawing for me. It honestly wasn't that bad of an okay hand symbol - I was impressed - but what I held up in front of me was a stealth attack of affection.

It was a small drawing of two stick figures, one green-skinned with what I could only assume to be a bass guitar and the other with a microphone who's hair colour matched my own. I laughed, "Where'd this come from? I don't even remember the last time I ever sang."

"Saw a pencil and sticky notes on the ground and thought I'd bless you with my talent," he said. "Pretty accurate for someone who drew from memory, huh?"

"Oh, you know it," I smiled up at him, walking back to my room as he followed closely behind. I stuck the paper to the wall beside my bed so it could be the first thing I saw when I woke up every morning, and I smiled. I looked at it and smiled. I felt Murdoc's presence behind me, giving me a soft, fluffy feeling in my stomach I'd never felt before. It rose from my feet to my head and he got closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and letting me melt into his arms.

I lifted my head from under his chin and turned around, and as soon as my eyes reached his face, our lips finally met. I felt my heart pounding in my throat and his delicate hands cradle me like a small house pet. I snaked my arms around his waist and pulled our chests together before our kiss broke. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Do I amuse you?" he asked, and I looked up at his half-lidded, captivated eyes.

"In a way," I admitted. "I'm just . . . I'm just happy."

That single moment offered me more gaiety than I'd felt in years. However, no matter how euphoric he made me feel, Murdoc didn't really seem like the type to be willingly tied down by any serious relationship, did he? He was more of a smash and dash type of person, and he didn't hesitate to make this clear in therapy. I was partially convinced his admitted sex addiction wasn't still in broad action, but there had to be a reason he seemed to care so much about me. Hopefully he felt the same butterflies in his stomach as I felt in mine whenever I saw him. Besides, if Murdoc wanted to look like such a tough guy, surely he wouldn't want to act sweet in front of others very often . . . Maybe I was more special than I thought I was?

"You alright, lass . . . ?"

"Hmm?"

"You spaced out a little, love." Murdoc smirked at me, and I blinked my foggy eyes away. In front of me stood a shimmering white cloud of blurry Murdoc's face and I hadn't noticed until I was too embarrassed to reverse the damage. "Undoubtedly another habit of yours?"

I gave his face some personal space and backed up, sucking in a deep breath before shrugging. "You caught me," I sighed.

"Well, if you're gonna get flustered over my devilish charms, maybe here isn't a good place," he said, looking back to my bedroom door.

"You're probably right," I said, wondering if Cassidy could be listening into our conversation as we spoke. I was thinking irrationally, I know, but as much as I liked to think I knew her, we were still merely strangers who only went out partying a couple of times and got hammered at any attempt to familiarize each other.

"Wanna go for a drive?" he offered, his smile wrapping me in a warm blanket.

"Sure," I grinned. "I'd love that."

#gorillaz #murdoc niccals #murdoc x reader #Russel Hobbs #noodle #Damon Albarn #Jamie Hewlett #fanfiction #2-d #Stuart Pot #x reader #romance

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themockingcrows · 4 years

Text

Companionship Through Circuitry Ch 7: Data

Bro/Hal THIS CHAPTER IS NOT SFW cw: voyeurism, masturbation

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942408/chapters/65171512

With a letter received, Bro's long standing questions about Dave finally get an answer, though it may not be the one he hoped for. And when the wasteland is quiet, and an AI is murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, what's a guy to do but respond...?

It was a solid week before Bro left that ramshackle town in the dust, debt repaid as he could get it, and blood spattered boots pointed North. On the off chance that he had mail, he checked in with the next town not far away, and poked his head into the courier station.

“Anything for Strider?”

“Strider?” said a short, gruff looking man as he sized up the long, lean figure ahead of him in the strange sunglasses. ...Eh. He’d seen odder things out here, surely. “Let me check.” A perfunctory glance at the post boxes, and he was heading around the corner to the mail bag, rummaging for bundles.

Bro tapped his fingers on the countertop idly. He didn’t expect anything, really, but it made it easier to pass the uncertainty by at least checking. Anyway, on the off chance he had something, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with it anyway.

“Ah, yes, we’ve got something for a Strider. Ambrose?”

Bro felt his stomach tighten into a steel knot as he saw the thick envelope in the man’s hands, stamped URGENT in bright red letters, and addressed in Dave’s familiar handwriting. He felt light headed, and it took Hal’s eyes flickering in front of his own to make him focus again.

“Er, yes, that’s me. Sorry, was miles away there for a second. I didn’t… I didn’t think anything’d actually be here,” he said, not reaching for the envelope.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s here,” the man said, setting it down on the countertop for him to take. Ambrose stared at it as if it were a bomb before reaching for it, and tucking it into his shirt.

“Thank you kindly,” he said. For once, he didn’t have a letter to send at this station, having written his peace while healing before. He walked across the small town as if in a daze, taking in the sights and smells both pleasant and unpleasant till he found a run down building with a shop out front selling different locally grown items as well as procured items. Bro could smell the tobacco before he could see the cigarettes, and was already feeling around for caps to secure a few.

Why are you shopping instead of reading your letter?

“I’ll get to it,” Bro said, tucking most of the cigarettes away after bumming a light off the shopkeeper. It tasted musty, unpleasant, but it was better than nothing. Not enough, but better than nothing.

You’ve waited this long for a reply and you’re going to put it off? Hal asked, astounded. Aren’t you the least bit curious?

“I’m sober, I’m sore, I’m tired, I’m kinda hungry and my balls itch. Curiosity can wait its turn,” he muttered around his cigarette, more agitated than he could write off with simple annoyance at being pestered.

Truth was, he was terrified of the envelope that was burning a brand against his abdomen, stiff edged and fat with pages. Scared of every inch of paper that lay within. Scared of the still slightly uncertain way Dave wrote his name down compared to his own, as if it were foreign. He smoked till the heat of the smoldering end got too close to his lips, then flicked the entire thing down to the ground and rubbed it out beneath his heel. The last thing anyone needed out here was a fucking fire.

If you’re putting off reading your letter because you’re needing a drink, I’d recommend having the drink so we can read.

“Excuse me, did you just say ‘we’?”

Are you going to remove me when you read your letter? I’m aware already of what your situation is, more or less. I would like to know what he has to say, this Dave of yours.

Ambrose hesitated slightly, and sighed an exhale out through his nose.

“When I read it, I’ll leave you on. But keep your goddamn comments to yourself, you hear me? I don’t want an audio chorus goin’ on while I’m tryin’ to do everything.”

Consider my lips sealed. Hal was quiet for a moment before he probed once more, Are you excited about being closer to the goal?

Ambrose blinked. “How close are we?”

Another few days if we do a quick clip. A week if we go slow. Longer if we keep making stops.

“What about my current pace,” Ambrose asked, knowing he wasn’t as quick as he was pre-injury yet. That would take time. Healing always took time, the bastard.

Your current pace is just fine.

“Besides, should I be askin’ you that question?”

What question.

“If you’re excited. I mean, it’s your body we’re headin’ to right?”

If it is still in one piece, still in place, then yes. I’m quite excited.

“What’s the first thing you wanna do once you’re in a body?” Ambrose asked, glad to have the conversation change direction from the letter that still pressed against his stomach like a threat.

Slap you as hard as I fucking can, for various sundry reasons.

“Okay, dumb question. What’s the second thing you wanna do once you’re in a body.”

It would ruin the fun if I told you everything ahead of time, Hal said coyly. Wouldn’t you just like to know?

“What’s your body gonna look like, anyway? Gonna be all jacked, bigger than me? Big as a mutant? Lift cars over your fuckin’ head?”

Most likely my body will look like a normal humanoid. The specifics are uncertain to me, I’ve never been inside of it to my knowledge.

“...If it sucks, there’s always the Furb-”

I hate that thing, and I hate you.

Bro smirked. “C’mon. It’s useful and you know it.”

I’m aware of what you’re doing now. There’s no fooling me. Open your letter, Ambrose.

The smirk died on his lips, and he ran a hand through his hand, fingers scritching at his scalp, dislodging little bits of dust that clung to the tips from walking the road. He patted his shirt, felt the outline of the envelope… and instead of pulling it out, turned and walked out of town, due North.

What are you doing?

“Travelin’, what does it look like?” he asked. “Wanna make good time, so you can go ahead and slap me.”

Do you mean to put off reading your letter till I can physically force you to open it?

“Nah, I ain’t gonna wait that long. I just don’t think I could sit still any longer. I’ll read it tonight, once I’m settled down.”

...It’s not a bomb, you know. It’s just a letter.

Ambrose rolled his eyes as he walked. “I know. Like I said, I’ll read it tonight.”

Yet, that night came, and he didn’t read it. Nor did he read it in the morning as he ate a cold can of beans, nor as night fell the second night. Instead it remained in his shirt, beneath his folded hands as Ambrose rested by the fire, preparing to go to sleep with Hal perched on his face. It took four days before he finally took it out of his shirt by the firelight and carefully opened it with his pinky finger, ripping the paper as cleanly as possible.

He unfolded the paper and clenched his eyes shut instinctively, unprepared to read what it said.

...It’s okay, Hal said. Open your eyes and read, Bro.

“I am, gimme a second. Eyes were dry,” he muttered, blinking exaggeratedly a few more times before glancing over the paper, rubbing the side of his head as he did so. ...Hal was right. It was okay.

While not filled to the brim with excitement at hearing from him, and not dripping with praise or familial love, there was a pleasant rapport contained within. As well as an apology for not writing sooner. Apparently he’d secured a second job where he lived and was saving caps. It was rough work, but he wasn’t just another body there. He had responsibilities, long shifts, and then long periods of having fun and exploring the new neck of the woods he lived in.

Bro was swept into Dave’s world with not just words, but pictures. Within the envelope had been shoved several carefully done drawings, some highly detailed and some cartoony and shittily drawn with his other hand to get the point across and throw a gag or three in. They earned a chuckle, and a smirk. Kid was improving. The last page of the letter said he would be checking for mail like usual, and would be trying to write ahead of the curve as Bro predicted, judging by his path.

...And that was that. No condemnation, but no forgiveness either. No comments on his near death. No questions in return. Bro scanned the pages twice more before setting them down and patting the ground with his fingertips.

Was it not what you were hoping for? It seemed pleasant to me, Hal said. Your spawn is talented.

“Mm. Yeah, he is.”

You didn’t answer the question.

“I guess I just.. Expected more,” Bro admitted. “I didn’t think I’d get a reply, now I’ve got one. And he didn’t address any of the shit I brought up. Does that mean he’s still pissed at me?”

People don’t tend to spend money and time and effort mailing people they hate, pointed out Hal. I believe your assumptions are incorrect. An option is that he is still processing everything you said, but didn’t want to remain silent.

The iron knot in Bro’s stomach finally, blessedly, began to unwind its barbs from within him in relief. That was a theory that was believable. Maybe it was just him being overly hopeful, but he needed that hope right now.

“Maybe.”

If things were as bad as they seemed, as well, this could be a way of building a relationship with you.

“Are you programmed to be part therapist? The fuck, a guy gets one letter and suddenly it’s time to play psychologist,” Bro murmured, grunting as he rolled towards his bag and rummaged for paper and pen.

Writing back already?

“Yeah. Gonna keep it up, if it’s not gettin’ on his nerves. Won’t write this one as urgent, though. Give it time to get there. After all, should be pickin’ up at the next station after gettin’ your body and heading back.”

Back?

“Yeah. Back home.”

With you?

“Who else? Got big plans once you get your body aside from knockin’ me into next Tuesday?” Bro asked, pen flicking across the paper as he began to write.

Hal didn’t respond right away. Instead he watched Bro write for a few minutes before speaking again. Are you asking me to go home with you?

“...Well. Yeah, I guess. If you wanna be formal about it.”

Why.

Of course he wanted reasons. Bro wet his lips briefly.

“...Becauses I think travelin’ with you is alright, and I imagine it’d be more fun once you’re not sittin’ on my face,” Bro said, slowing his writing to a pause before doodling in the margin, aimless shapes as he thought. “Because I think I’d actually miss you, if you took off once we got that far, after all this shit we’ve already been through.”

You like me, Hal stated rather than asked.

“...Yeah. I like you.”

You wish for me to remain with you.

“Yeah.”

...Once I get my body, would you touch it?

Ambrose blinked. “...Uh. Maybe.” So he knew about that kind of shit, did he? Made sense, to a point.

Why not yes?

“It’d depend on what you wanted,” he admitted awkwardly. Was he being propositioned by an AI? That was a new one. “Rule number one of havin’ bodies: you don’t go touchin’ ones that don’t belong to you without permission.”

Would I have permission to touch you?

He had to think for a moment. Would he be down for that? With a bot? It’d be weird, considering he didn’t know what kind of body they were going to be working with, but he supposed there was always a possibility for adjustments and customization as needed moving forward. Surely the body hadn’t been designed with that kind of functionality in mind, but…

“Yeah,” he decided. “You’ve got permission to touch me.”

Hal’s eyes flickered into his field of vision again, blinking slowly a few times before fading out.

I’m not certain how to touch you, when the time comes. I require data.

“You propositionin’ me?” Bro asked with a slowly spreading smirk.

I would prefer to know what to do when I’m able to do so properly, Hal explained. Then, again, I require data.

“And if I give you data tonight?” Bro asked, pushing his letter away and rolling to his back. “What’s in it for me?”

A better time when I have my body, since I’ll be able to touch you myself.

“You never said if I’d be able to touch you back,” Bro pointed out, reaching down to undo his belt buckle. “And mind keepin’ an eye out while we handle this?”

You will be safe, promised Hal. ...And you have permission to touch me.

“Two dudes touchin’ each other. Sounds gay,” hummed Bro as he flicked his pants open enough to slide a hand in, giving himself a feel and a gentle squeeze to start warming up. “So what kind of data you want, specifically?”

I want to know how best to touch you, Hal explained. The data I require would be how you enjoy being touched.

“Wanna be the best at touchin’ be, huh?”

You could say that.

Bro moved his hand steadily a few times till he was settled at half mast, then shimmied his pants a little lower, freeing himself to the cool night air. He glanced down, and was amused to see Hal’s eyes flicker into view again, this time not fading away.

“Gimme a second, it’s not quite there.”

It’s already pleasant to look at.

“Remind me to teach you some dirty talk, dicks aren’t pleasant to look at,” snorted Bro, continuing to work his fist till he shivered and finally rested at full size against his own palm. “There we go..,”

I take it you’re giving me the data already?

“Yep. Take notes. Slow to warm up, but once the motor purrs it’ll go all night,” Bro hummed, closing his eyes. He’d done this thousands of times in his life, but rarely with an audience, and certainly not one in recent memory. Fuck it’d been a while. He remembered to keep his chin down so he’d be in view of the shades properly, letting Hal look to his heart’s content as Bro’s fingers played over his length familiarly.

Tell me what you would do to me, once you’re able to touch me, Hal said softly, voice a purr from the shades. Bro smirked a bit, enjoying the sound as he closed his fingers into a fist and began to slowly pump himself. Though he was still a little uncertain of the specifics, it was easy to think of how he’d behave with a human partner. Might as well just proceed that way mentally, and figure out what was different when the real thing was on display.

“Well. Let’s see… Prolly warm you up with a bit of kissin’ first, some hands on explorin’ to see what you had to work with. Then I’d run my hands along your body, make sure you felt every inch of me on your skin,” Bro said with a relaxed sigh. Fuck, this was something he’d needed for a while it seemed. A bit of tlc and privacy. ...Well. somewhat privacy.

And if I were beneath you?

“Want me to pin you down, huh?” he asked, fist moving a bit quicker as his mind played out the scenario. “Well. Prolly already warmed you up so you’d be ready for me, by then. Work you open nice and easy till you’re beggin’ for it, bite your neck while I slide on in. Get those thighs nice and far apart for me. Keep on goin’ till I’m good’n deep.”

There was no clarification on Hal’s part about how that might not work, about how he might not be compatible. Instead, there was a soft beeping coming from the shades, like a pulse monitor going off, faster than his own heartbeat.

And if I were begging for it, by then?

“I’d let you have it. Mostly,” Bro said, working his fist a bit faster, but not going all the way down. Instead he fisted the top of his length and went about halfway down, squeezing more towards the middle before working back towards the tip. “Probably work you over with about half of what you got a taste of, before goin’ any further. Make you really lose it before hammering ya.”

The pulse beeping sped up again, a constant pace in Bro’s ear, and he adjusted his own hand to go along with it, hissing softly under his breath as he started to work his whole length again.

And if it were me touching you, like you’re touching yourself right now? If it were my hand instead of yours? Would you find that pleasant?

“Long as it was warm,” Ambrose chuckled breathlessly, unable to help himself but go quicker. It’d been too long, it felt too nice, and with his imagination running wild there was too much fuel feeding the fire. “You’d need a firm grip, I like that most. More towards the middle than the tip. And nice even strokes…”

I think I preferred to imagine you inside of me, to the touching, Hal said suddenly, the firm pulse beeping seeming to mimic Bro’s pulse now that he was letting himself have what he wanted. You said before the engine could last all night. Would it do the same with me if I wanted it?

“Till you were walkin’ funny the next day,” Bro promised, gritting his teeth slightly. It felt too good, it was warm, the voice in his ear was still a purr and his imagination was filling in all kinds of gaps. He just hoped the real deal wasn’t a letdown compared to his lofty imagination.

Come for me, Ambrose.

That did it. Bro let out a soft sound and tensed, shielding the tip of his dick with his opposite hand to catch the mess for easier cleanup. The pulse sound slowly settled in his ear before disappearing entirely, leaving him with the sounds of the wasteland in his ear instead. He opened his eyes finally and saw Hal’s blinking at him before they flickered out of sight, leaving him with the night view from behind the shades as usual.

He exhaled another sigh and sat up to clean up.

“I think I needed that. Been feelin’ pent up for a while,” admitted Bro.

Would you enjoy doing that with me more often?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like doin’ that with you, it was nice.” Bro felt, briefly, like he was finishing a date up. There was no second cleanup, but it did make him wonder… “Is there anything I can do while you’re like this to make you feel nice?”

Feeling doesn’t really occur in this state. The closest would be electricity, and that could be dangerous for my stability.

“No electrostim then, got it,” he chuckled. Bro took a glance towards his letter once he was cleaned and tucked away, and shook his head, tucking it back into his bag. He’d work on it tomorrow, the mood was definitely not there right now. Not after that. “But there’s nothin’ you’d like, nothin’ I can do?”

Just speaking with me is good. I’ve recorded data fo-

“Recorded? You just mean data-wise, right? Not actual recording, right?”

Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies.

He guessed it was fine, if Hal recorded him jerking off. Not like there was anyone to share it with, and even if there was, he’d be able to write it off as being narcissistic to a point. Record himself to use for getting off later. ...Okay, now the idea was intriguing to him. He’d have to see if Hal would allow him to see video files sometime…

I’ve recorded data for the future, when I have my body. I would like to use that data once I’m accustomed to the controls.

“You propositionin’ me again? Want a hot date once you’ve got your own bod?”

Yes! I want to experience what I’ve learned first hand, and see if all of your talk is as good as it sounds.

“I can promise I’m not just talk. I can’t promise I’ll be able to do all that to you right away,” Bro warned. “But we’ll see what we’re workin’ with soon enough, I suppose.”

If I lack genitalia will you make me some?

Bro was quiet for a minute, just sitting there, trying to think of what in the world he’d gotten himself into. “You want me to make you a dick if you don’t have one.”

Yes. I want to use what I’ve learned, and that is what I’ve learned with.

He reached up to rub his eyes beneath the shades, just holding his face for a moment before sighing. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Right. Uh.. sure. I’ll try to figure out how to do that, if you’re needin’ something. We’ll figure it out.”

I can’t imagine my body is a tin can, Dirk was working with advanced technology. Surely this will work.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. You’re lucky I ain’t got nothin’ against bots.”

Robosexual.

“...Sure.”

They sat in an easy silence for a while, the fire flickering and Bro watching out over the wastes. He felt more relaxed than he had in ages, despite part of his mind now focusing on how to built a robotic dick that had some kind of feedback function. There had to be some kind of research with bots, with ‘droids, that had that kind of functionality. Hell, might even turn into a side business: sex modifications for droids and bots.

That’d make for a hell of a letter to Dave. Actually, so was telling him in general about Hal coming home with him. He could hear the teasing already.

“Hey. Hal.”

Yes.

“Do you want me to tell Dave about you comin’ home with me?”

Of course.

“Or would you rather write him yourself, once you have your body.”

Hal was quiet for a moment. You would entrust me to write to your spawn?

“Yeah. If you stop calling him my spawn. I think he’d like to get to know you, once you’re not just sittin’ on my face, and I don’t think I can easily mod to Furby to hold a pen.”

If you even tried, I’d zap you immediately.

“See, can’t even if I wanted to,” Bro said, lifting his hands upwards and shaking his head, giving a shrug. “My hands are tied by the system.”

Bro.

“Yeah?”

...I’m actually quite excited, to get my body. Not just for the reasons we discussed so far tonight. I’ll finally be able to see what Dirk left for me.

“...If it’s not there, we’ll figure somethin’ out,” Bro promised. “And if it’s damaged, I’ll do my best to figure out how to fix it.”

I’ll be able to run diagnostic scans once I’m able to connect, I should be able to tell you how to fix things, or even fix them myself. But Bro, I wanted to ask a favor.

“Yeah? What, aside from beatin’ my meat, do you want me to do for you?”

I would like to find other vaults, before we return to your home.

“Vault huntin’, huh? What for?”

I need to find other instances of Dirk’s work.

“You got it. We’ll hunt down whatever scraps of him and his work you need.”

It felt easier to promise than Bro assumed it would. It felt genuinely good.

#Bro Strider #Lil Hal #Homestuck #my fic

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