#i also learned what it meant when you legs feel like jelly or whatever that saying is

[enigmatic-bumble]

I'm so glad I don't have to learn to drive anymore 😎

#tashi bumbles #person teaching me to drive: wow youre actually a decent driver #me shaking like a fucking chihuahua: oh yeah??? #and like you have to be able to multitask very well and like i cant mutlitask for shit #i also learned what it meant when you legs feel like jelly or whatever that saying is #because as soon as i was done driving on the road the first time i got out the car and almost faceplanted

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 25

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2005

It was the semi-finales for girl’s lacrosse. Miraculously, I was made captain as a freshman. Which meant, for some reason, people were offended and thought that I should be picked on more. Fact of the matter is that lacrosse is a game of strategy. Together; with the help of my teammates, we would play to win. Being captain wasn’t a choice, Finstock made me captain and the role was a big shoe to fill. But here we are, semi-finales.

As we made our way out to the play, I looked at the stands. Mom, Dad, Uncle Noah, Stiles, Scott on one end. Laura and Derek on the other side. 

There were fifteen minutes left in the game, the score was tied. We needed to make one more goal to win and get to the finales. For this next play, I was face to face with the other team captain, waiting for the pearl to be thrown. 

“You don’t deserve to be captain.” The girl glared, her eyes looked like they wanted to melt through my helmet and into my brain. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. I worked my ass off for four years to be captain. What makes you so special?” 

I blinked at her, a little confused as to where this hostility was coming from, “I’m just playing a game.” 

“A real captain knows the lacrosse is more than a game.” She smirked, “When we win this, I’m getting a scholarship to So Cal, so why don’t you just do what freshman do best and lose.” On one hand I felt bad for her. She probably had parents that pushed and pushed for her to be the best. And I also felt bad because I knew we were gonna win.

The ref blew the whistle starting play. And everything was going according to plan. That was until I was passed the pearl. I ran with it, tossing it to another player. Meaning that it was completely unnecessary for me to be tackled and would be considered aggressive. But that didn’t stop the other captain from using her entire body to slam me into the ground. One minute I was standing and the next I had was on the ground. My chest felt tight, like I was straining to breathe. When I opened my eyes, I saw her face over mine, smirking down at me. 

“HEY!” I heard Finstock’s booming voice, “Ref! Aren’t you gonna call that?!” No whistle, either the ref hadn’t seen it or he was allowing it. But Derek wasn’t allowing it. I heard multiple shouts and then watched the player who stood above me get shoved away, Derek replaced her. He knelt down, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“Derek, what are you doing?” I groaned. 

“Can you get up?” He asked, trying to help me sit up. I hissed at the movement. 

Derek turned back to the bench, “Get a medic!” And only then did the whistle blow. The girl had given plenty of excuses, but they still gave her team a three minute penalty that made them lose the game. Looks like I had been right. 

I was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a concussion but I would be fine just in time for the finales. The whole time in the waiting room, in the room itself, and even when we got home, Derek had been right beside me, holding my hand.

- 

I had grown to hate hospitals and everything about them since the last time I had been to one I had been stabbed. The gowns with the open backs that were way too open to the public. That smell that was a cross between cleaner and the latex and rubber of gloves. The beds that were as hard as a rock and were covered in paper that would crinkle and make noise even if you weren't moving. That apprehensiveness that would build up in your stomach every time you heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Thankfully, I didn't have to go through any of that. Since I was a pregnant werewolf, going to the hospital in Beacon Hills was a definite no-no, so the next best option is Dr. Deaton, a veterinarian and a makeshift supernatural doctor. Not to mention a full blown druid in this day and age. But from what I've learned in the past couple years, old magic was very much alive. 

I was sitting on the metal table used for the animals, swinging my legs back and forth, waiting for Deaton to come back from getting my medical records emailed to him by Melissa. He could have gotten them himself, he just figured it would be less illegal if he got them from a nurse. 

Thoughts were racing through my head for no rhyme or reason. Since I became a werewolf, every scar or scratch on my body had become only a memory. My stab wound, the acid burns on my legs, the cuts on my face from being tortured all those months ago which really felt more like a lifetime. It had been a different life, a life fabricated through magic and spells. A life that almost didn't feel like mine anymore.

"Sorry, for the wait, (Y/N)." Deaton walked into the room, his eyes scanning over the stack of papers in his hands.

"You're alright, Doc." I smiled, leaning back on my hands, "So how am I looking?"

“Very pregnant.”

"Nothing gets past you, huh?” I smirked. To be fair, I was approaching the three and a half month mark. Deaton smiled, taking my vitals and a vial of blood. 

“So I’ve been made aware that Mr. Hale is the father.” He said, pressing a cotton ball to my skin after removing the needle, “How's that going?"

“About as well as you can imagine.” 

“So not at all?” He asked. I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. 

"Everything looks normal," He smiled as he wrote everything down on his clipboard, "Just need to get a look at the little guy." He looked up, "You said it was a boy, right?" He asked, moving over to get the sonographer that I’m sure had never been used on a human before.

“Unless the baby’s sprouting a third arm. That'd be cool." I smiled, “But yeah, that’s what the ultrasound tech in Scotland said.”

He chuckled and shook his head, "Alright, lay back and lift your shirt up." I laid back on the table, lifting my shirt up. The jelly he put on my stomach was cold and reminded me of the goo that had encased Jackson when he was a lizard person. He moved the sensor over my stomach and looked into the monitor. Ultrasounds were usually a little hard to see anyway, just like a fancy warschak paintings. And the fetus? Kinda like a funky jellybean.

“There we are.” He grinned, “Little werewolf.”

Craning my neck, I looked up at him, "You can tell he's a werewolf?"

"No.” He took the monitor off, handing me a paper towel so I could wipe off my stomach, “But odds are since his parents are both werewolves, it would make sense that the child would be also. However, you had the dormant gene, maybe your child will too." He turned off the sonographer.

“Have any names picked out?”

"I have a few... I liked Jacob, which Derek hated because it was too ‘Twilight’. Then there's one other but I don't know about it." The name that Derek loved more than anything for some reason, "Nicholas." And damn was it good. 

"What about Nicholas Jacob? Just use both of them." 

"Or I could name him after Stiles" I smirked to myself, "Mieczyslaw Nicholas.”

"Maybe that would be a little too much."

“Stiles is a little too much.” I smiled to myself

-

"So Nicholas?" Sheriff looked at me from across the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. I hummed and nodded, sipping my hot cocoa.

"Nicholas?” He asked again.

"Mieczyslaw?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He raised his eyebrows, "It was his mother's father's name." 

“I remember Grandpa Mitch, trust me." I smiled, holding my mug in both hands, “I was thinking maybe Nicholas Noah.” I avoided looking in his eyes. Emotional talks were never really his strong suit, especially after Aunt Claudia. I wanted to honor him somehow.

He smiled, blinking a few times, “Sounds pretty good to me.” After a moment he asked: "What are you going to do now?"

I finished my drink and stood up to put it in the sink, "My plan, right now at least, is that I'm going to stay here to have the baby... Then...” I washed out the mug, “Then I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to go back to Scotland or stay here." He stood up as well and pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, blinking my own tears away. 

Uncle Noah stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, "Whatever your decision, I'll be there for you. Whenever you need me. I'll always, always be there for you." 

-

My pajamas had taken a turn for the worst. No more t-shirts and shorts, it’s moo moos and nightgowns from now on. I pulled my night gown over my head, smoothing out the skirt. Did I look like I had raided a grandmother’s closet? Absolutely. I looked down at my stomach, rubbing my hand over my bump.

"Are you a little alien?" I smiled after a moment, listening deeply to his little heartbeat, “Nice.” I glanced over at my desk, then pulled back my blankets to get into bed. I stopped, my head snapping back towards the window where there were red eyes staring back at me. 

 Now, if this was two years ago I would be losing my mind over the fact that there were red eyes staring at me. But since I've gone through emotional Hell, I was feeling rather annoyed by some alpha that just thought they could mosey around my house, around my window, and around my goddamn personal space. I stalked over to the window and slammed it open. 

"Listen, pal, you have about five seconds to get out my yard or I swear by all that is damnable, I will put you through so much pain that your great-grandchildren will be sore."

The eyes came closer, revealing a familiar crooked jaw, "Nice to see you too." 

"You could have just come through the front door, ya know? If Stiles can make a spare key to your house, then he can make you one for his." Scott only looked at me seriously. It was like the kid from three months ago was gone and all there was left was a battle hardened man. 

"Can I please come in?" I stepped away from the window, watching him crawl inside and stand up.

"I've been great, Scott, I've only been in Scotland for months, crying and wondering why none of my friends or family were contacting me. How have you been?" Was it petty? Absolutely, but the hormones were raging. Even if Derek told everyone to stop talking to me, what hold did he have over anyone when Scott was around?

"I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I came to-"

I cut him off, after finally connecting, "Who did you kill?"

“What?”

"To become an alpha, who did you take it from?" 

"I didn't kill anyone!” He said in an exasperated voice, “Why does everyone ask that? Not killing people has been my thing since Peter bit me." He ran his hand through his shorter hair, it suit him.

It then dawned on me. The one thing that had little to no documentation of. Even the Lunar Circle had just the basics. It was the stuff of legend, a hear say. I didn't think it was possible. 

"A true alpha." He stared at me for a second and blinked a couple times.

"You're a true alpha." I grinned, "Oh my god, Scott, this is unbelievable." I grabbed his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, "Tell me everything. I wanna know how it happened and what situation you were in. How were you feeling? Were you hurt? Was your body under so much stress that it just happened?”

Scott grabbed my hands and placed them by my sides, "(Y/N), maybe another time I came here for a reason."

"Oh, right, of course." Probably looking ridiculous, “What’s on your mind?”  

"I really don't think it's safe for you here." 

"Here we go agai-" 

"Will you just listen to me before you start whining?" He growled. That certainly shut me up. I raised my eyebrows at him, but I guess I should hear him out. I motioned for him to continue.

"I'm not so much worried about you.” He said, “I know you can take care of yourself. I'm worried about..." He paused, "Uh..." 

“Nicholas.”

"Yeah, I'm worried about Nicholas." He sat in my computer chair and leaned forward, "The pack we're facing don't care who they kill or why, all they want is to hurt us. You're my friend, (Y/N). I don't want anything to happen to you. And I don't want anything to happen to your kid. Please." He rolled forward and took my hands in his, "Please, go back to Scotland. I promise you, you won't be in the dark. You don't deserve to be left out. I'll call myself, and if not me, Stiles will. It's not safe for you.” I looked down, gnawing on my lip. Scott was right, he was completely right. It wasn't safe. I couldn't be a tough alpha when I had so much to live for. Keeping this kid safe is my top priority. As much as I wanted to stay home, it wasn’t safe.

"You'll tell me when it's safe to come back?" 

"You have my word." 

I sighed, looking up at him with a half-smile, "I may be stubborn as hell, but that doesn't mean I can't admit when someone's right. And you're right, Scott. I'll go." 

He closed his eyes, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He dropped my hands and rolled back, "I'm so glad you agreed with my first speech, if you hadn't I would have been improvising for my life." He chuckled.

Shaking my head, I grinned at him, “It’s good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too.”

- 

"So you're going back?" Uncle Noah looked over his coffee with tired eyes, spying my luggage that had only been unpacked for two days. It was a new day and another plane ride.

"It's not safe for me. It's not safe for any of you." I rested my head on his shoulder, "But I know that will never stop you from helping the ones you care about." 

A small smile pulled at his lips, "You're way too good at reading me." 

"Well, I've only known you my whole life." 

He set down his coffee and hugged me tight, like this was the last time he would see me. I know he was worried about me and Stiles, it was in his nature. This was the best option for me. As much as I wanted to stay and fight. I couldn't fight if my child was kidnapped and hell knows what would happen to him. 

Giving him one last squeeze, I pulled away, the honking outside meant that Stiles had pulled in and was ready to drop me off at the airport. 

"I'll call you when I land. Or text you. Depends on the time." I kissed his cheek, "Bye Uncle Noah." 

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe." I kissed his cheek. My head held high, I grabbed my bag and my rolling luggage and went out the door. Stiles grabbed my bags, opening the back of Roscoe to throw my luggage in. That was until a familiar black Camero pulled into the driveway, blocking Stiles in. 

"God. Dammit." I muttered to myself. My life was just going swell, wasn't it? I looked down at my stomach and sighed. I felt the burn of acid reflux in my throat, my child showing obvious discomfort as well. Me too, little man. Me too. 

There was no way around it, I couldn’t leave without talking with him. Not that I should have to begin with. I sucked. 

Derek got out of the car, coming around quickly and standing in front of me. 

“Derek, I don’t think you should be here.” Stiles stepped forward. Very sweet, but realistically Stiles wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing against Derek. They stared each other down, the air just filled with masculinity.

“Stiles...” I said, grabbing my bags, “If he wants to take me to the airport, let him.” 

Stiles eyes widened, “You’re really giving him the time of day? Really?” 

Sighing, I pulled Stiles into my arms and hugged him tightly. He hesitated, but hugged me back. 

“I know that this seems like a bad idea, and most of my ideas are bad, but I got this. Trust me.” I smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you.” He pulled away, looking between Derek and I. 

“I love you too. Scott and I will let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

“You better.” I turned back to Derek, trying to keep up the attitude I had to keep Stiles at ease. I held out my bags. He took them without a word and we both started the trip to the airport. It was hard to get a read on him at the moment. He emotions were dull, nothing that stood out. He still looked as tense as ever. His brows were knitted together and his piercing green eyes looked hard. 

“So...” He said after a while, “What are you going to do about...” He trailed off. 

“Him?” I looked down at my stomach, “I’m just preparing and getting ready for him. I picked a name too. Nicholas.” 

A small smile pulled at his lips, but he hid it, “Hmm.” 

“Derek....” Now or never, “I just need to know why?” 

He inhaled deeply, “I wish I could tell you. I don’t even remember it happening. Like I was under a spell and I couldn’t break out of it.” So he had experienced what I had when I was under Matt’s control. In this situation, in Beacon Hills, there was no reason not to believe him. His heart told me it was true. 

“I’m sorry that I hit you.” 

“I don’t blame you.” He glanced over at me, “If I felt the same thing you did, I would probably lose control too.” 

“I’m tired of people taking advantage of you. If I see that bitch-” I hadn’t realized that my eyes had turned red. 

“(Y/N)...” He reached over his right hand, placing it on my knee, “Calm down.” I took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. Just the simplest touch could calm me down and it was something that I missed. 

“Nicholas, huh? I like it.”

Happiness welled up in my chest, “I sure hope so since you picked it.” 

“I didn’t think you liked it.” 

I sat back up and opened my eyes, “What are you talking about? I’ve always liked that name.”

“Riiiiight.” 

By the time the conversation ended, we were at the airport. I reached for the handle to open the door when he reached over to stop me. 

“I let you leave alone last time, I’m walking you in."

We got inside and checked in, the only thing left was for me to board. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't take me to the airport last time, because now that he was here, I didn't want to leave him.

"How selfish would it be for me to ask you to drop your life here and come with me?" I leaned on his arm.

"Very. Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. I'm needed here. I have to be here for Cora."

I smiled slightly, "We're gonna get through this. Soon we'll be together again and we can have that big happy family that you deserve. That we deserve."

Derek sighed, resting his head on top of mine, "Is it cliche to hope that this all ends tomorrow?" 

My smile faltered, "Don't believe in miracles, Derek."

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Read part 26 here!

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#derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader #derek hale fic

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Superhero

Pairing: College!Peter x College!Reader

Summary: (Pretty much Infinity War but Peter is in college instead of high school) Peter comes back after the Snap to find that you not only survived, but gave birth to a daughter while he was gone.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking while pregnant, SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR/ ENDGAME

Word Count: 2819

__________________________________________

Five years. Five years ago, you finally felt like your life was coming together. You’d just turned 23 and gotten out of those awkward transitional years from high school to college. You’d gotten a fairly decent job while getting your degree. You’d met the love of your life, Peter Parker, in a Critical Thinking Through Argumentation and Debate course your freshman year of university. 

But then everything changed. 

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” Peter’s frantic voice still rang fresh in your memory as if it were happening now. 

You stared at the New York skyline in terror, a large circular ship floating midair, “Yes- yes, I’m alright! Are you?” You asked, heart pounding. 

“Thank God,” He murmured. 

“Aliens?” You asked, already being familiar with his exploits as an Avenger. Knowing that it all existed was much different than feeling the imminent danger of it happening to you right now. 

You could almost hear him nod on the other end in confirmation, “Aliens.” 

“Dammit, Peter. Don’t do anything stupid!” You yelled through the phone, running your hands through your hair as explosions started ringing. It was silent on the other end of the line, “Peter? Peter?! I swear to God- Where are you?” You had to get to him. You had to make sure he was okay. 

“OH MY GOD IT’S MOVING! I think I’m going to space.” Peter sounded more excited than he should have for being blasted into space. 

“Peter Parker! Why are you going into space?” Even from where you stood, far outside of Manhattan out in Queens, you could see the ship slowly ascend back into the sky, “Are you on the ship?” Your voice suddenly lowered to barely above a whisper. 

There was a small pause, “I love you Y/N.” And then the line cut out. 

That was the last time you saw him. The last time you’d heard his voice, really heard his voice outside of videos or voicemails. That was five years ago when half of the known universe disappeared in what had come to be known as the Blip. You’d ended up hearing the true story about Thanos and the snap from Natasha when she learned that you’d remained. But nobody knew what had happened and nobody knew how to bring anyone back. 

That was also three months before you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d found out almost into your second trimester, which made you feel stupid for not putting the signs together sooner. But, in all honesty, you’d figured the missed periods and depression were from stress and depression throwing your body into a spiral. You’d lost almost everyone you loved. The world was thrown into disarray. 

But finally by month three, you’d bought a test just to rule out the slim possibility that you could have been pregnant (and by that point it would have been a miracle if you hadn’t miscarried from the amount of stress, lack of eating, and more than a healthy amount of alcohol some nights). Low and behold, though, it appeared that miracles did happen because six months later you gave birth to your beautiful, healthy daughter, Adelyn Astrid Parker. 

Most of your friends and family had been lost in the snap. You were on your own with the exception of when Natasha or Steve stopped by to make sure you were okay but they were both a million years away, agonizing over how to bring everyone back. You, on the other hand, were struggling just to survive and learn how to be a single mother, all while still dealing with your grief. 

But that was five years ago. 

Now, things had settled back into whatever normal could now be called. Schools had reopened, people started working again, there were weddings and birthdays and bar mitzvahs. You’d stayed in yours and Peter’s old apartment on the edge of Queens and had gotten an entry level job in your field that paid surprisingly well for what it was. Adelyn was almost five now, smaller than most kids her age, but still beautiful and smart. Everything about her reminded you of her father. 

You smeared the peanut butter and jelly onto slices of bread before pressing them together, “Addie! Lunch is ready!” You called to your daughter who played with Legos in her room. She came running into the living room and knelt down on the ground, immediately smearing all the jelly all over her little, now sticky hands. 

“Thank you.” She thanked with a mouth full of half chewed food, making a big show of showing you her mashed food. 

“You’re so gross.” You laughed at her, booping her nose gently. 

Just as you did so, the front door to your apartment swung open with a crash and you screamed, immediately lunging over to shield your daughter. 

“Y/N?” A scared, shaky voice asked. A voice that you hadn’t heard in five years. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him standing there in your living room. Peter stood there, still in his Spiderman suit, wearing everything but the mask. His hair was disheveled and his face was cut up. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days and like he’d been crying for hours. 

“Peter? What the- how the-” Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts. How was he here? Where had he been? You’d thought he died. On shaky, weak legs, you made your way to your feet and stumbled into his strong arms. 

He felt just like he did when he left. Strong, firm, like he’d never let you fall. Peter dipped his head down low into the crook of your neck and cradled your head against his chest. Hot tears began pouring down your face and you could tell by the wetness seeping through your shirt that he was sobbing too. 

“I missed you so much. I missed you so so much.” His fingers scrunched into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

“Mommy…?” A small voice asked from behind you. 

You looked over your shoulder to see your Addie sitting there, still looking terrified at this strange man who’d just burst into your apartment. 

Peter’s arms slowly dropped around you, “Mommy?” He asked, eyes wide, unsure of whether this meant you’d moved on very fast or if she was his. But one look at the young girl and the answer was clear. 

You rushed over to your daughter and picked her up, trying to show her everything was okay. Peter’s eyes darted between the two girls before him and watched as you nodded awkwardly before gesturing towards him, “Daddy.” You admitted, chewing your lip nervously. 

He almost visibly choked. “Daddy? She’s… she’s mine?” 

You nodded, “She’s yours. This is Adelyn Astrid Parker.” 

Peter looked like he was just hit by a train. He’d already looked like hell when he came bursting in but now he looked like something snapped within him. 

“Let me get you some water.” 

**

Addie was sitting in front of the TV, watching one of her favorite shows, while you and Peter sat in the little kitchen nook, drinks in between each of your hands. “So five years?” He asked, still trying to adjust to this new reality. 

You nodded, staring down at your fingers on your cup, “Five years.” You confirmed. 

“Did you know before-” He questioned, scared to know the truth but desperate to know. 

You shook your head, cutting him off, “No. I found out three months after,” You snorted slightly, “I know, it’s really late.” In the old days, he probably would have teased you about it but nothing was funny about any of this now. You almost wished it was, though. Anything to break this dark cloud that seemed to loom over the room. 

“Can-can you tell me about it?” He asked shyly. Was that a weird request? To know about your pregnancy? It just killed him that he missed it. He missed it all. You did everything alone, without him, and he could only imagine how scary it was. 

You sipped your water, “Well, um, honestly, she’s kind of my miracle baby. I didn’t pick up on the signs at first. I thought my body was out of whack ‘cause of stress and I just kind of took a test to rule out the possibility but low and behold,” You indicated to your daughter who was blissfully unaware of everything, engulfed in her show. You sniffled slightly, “I really thought I fucked up, Peter. I was drinking a lot before I found out because I’d lost almost everyone and was scared. I stopped right when I saw the positive test but I really thought I hurt her. I don’t know how or why but she was born on August 4th four years ago, perfectly healthy.” 

Peter could sense the hurt in your voice and reached across the table to hold your hand, “You didn’t know. You can’t beat yourself up for that. And like you said, she’s healthy. That’s what matters.” He sighed and buried his face in his hands, “I am so sorry that I left you alone. I am so sorry that you had to go through all of this by yourself.” 

You reached across and gently touched his arm, “You don’t get to hate yourself for that. You were doing your duty and saving the world. You couldn’t control that you were in the half that disappeared. What matters is that you’re here now.” 

“Yeah…” He said sadly, looking down at the table. 

You squeezed his hand, “What happened?” You asked gently. Something was wrong with him. He looked horribly beat up physically but he also looked like he was in anguish emotionally, and more than just finding out about his daughter. 

His lips began to quiver slightly, “There was a battle. I don’t know exactly what happened but I was on a planet with... “ A darkness suddenly washed over him, “With Mr. Stark and this guy who calls himself Starlord and a few other people. We almost stopped him. We almost stopped Thanos but then... we lost. Half of us disintegrated and I was in this weird place that I can’t even describe. But there were a lot of people there. Then one day the wizard guy showed up and these portals opened and there was another war. And… and… Stark is dead.” Peter poured his heart out to you, tears beginning to overflow. 

You couldn’t even fathom what he’d gone through or what he’d seen. How do you comfort someone like that? Unsure of what else to do, you slid over to sit next to him and just let him collapse into you, crying. 

“Peter, I am so sorry.” You held him close, just like you did Addie when she was hurt or sad, and just sent as much love through your touch as you possibly could. “He loved you so much.” 

He nodded into your shoulder, “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him.” He just kept murmuring over and over again. 

“Shh, I know you and I know that you did everything you possibly could. He knows that too.” You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the dried sweat and blood caked into it and only imagining how it had gotten there and wondering whose blood it was. 

“Y’know, I know this may sound sort of lame but Addie, her middle name is Astrid. It’s sort of a stretch but I know how much you love Tony and even though you weren’t there I figured that maybe I could pretend you were when I named her. So I thought that Stark was like ‘Star’ but I didn’t like that so I went with Astrid. So, like I said, it’s really kind of a stretch, but I sort of named her after Stark cause I thought it was something you might like if you were there.” 

Peter sat up from your shoulder and smiled a little. In fact, he almost chuckled, “That is kind of a stretch but I like it. I love it.” He wiped his tears away and sniffled. He brushed his fingers through his hair and sat up, his eyes red and puffy again, “Can I meet her?” He asked, voice cracking. 

You nodded and smiled, “Of course,” You looked back towards the living room, “Addie, baby? Can you come here please?” 

Without a word, she stood up and walked over to you, looking back at the TV while she walked until she tripped over a toy. You and Peter couldn’t help but giggle at your adorably clumsy child. It wasn’t a hard fall though (and you know kids, they’re practically made out of rubber) so she bounced back up with a laugh and made her way over to you. You stood up and walked around to kneel next to Peter, putting on hand on his thigh and one hand on her shoulder. 

“Peter, this is Adelyn Astrid Parker. Addie, this is your daddy.” You introduced officially. 

Addie looked up at him with furrowed brows, “Daddy?” She’d never had a ‘daddy’ before. As far as she had always been concerned, it was her and Mommy against the world. 

“Yep, this is your daddy.” You smiled, rubbing small circles on Peter’s thigh with your thumb. 

“The superhero?” She asked, trying to put the pieces together. Peter was taken aback. The superhero? 

You nodded, excited that your little family was finally complete, “Yep.” 

Peter waved awkwardly, “Hi, Addie.” This was undeniably his daughter. She had the same curly brown hair and they had the same eyes. She looked almost like the girl equivalent of him. 

“Mommy said you were gone being a superhero and saving the world. Where were you?” Addie was trying to put the pieces together in her head. You’d made sure that she’d known that she had a dad. You’d even shown her photos of him. But you’d told her that he was a superhero who was off helping people. The last thing you wanted was for her to grow up thinking that Peter had just abandoned her. 

Peter looked taken back by the question, almost unsure of how to answer, so you stepped in, “He was off far away making sure that me and you and everyone else in the universe was safe from bad guys.” 

Peter watched in amazement as you spoke so animatedly to your young daughter, poking her every now and then for emphasis, especially when you talked about bad guys.

“What happened to your face?” She pointed at the cuts and bruises bluntly. 

His eyes widened and he moved to cover some of the abrasions, “Oh, just superhero stuff. The bad guys were tough this time.” He chuckled a little, trying to keep it as light hearted as possible and not remember details about the war. It was too much right now. 

“Stay here!” Addie put up a tiny hand before running off. Peter’s eyes widened in surprise at the sudden demand from the five year old but stayed there anyways. You chuckled as she ran off and then returned with a little toy doctor kit, one of the Doc McStuffins toys. 

Addie opened the plastic ‘doctor bag’ and took out a box of real band aids, “I help my toys feel better all the time. Here, this will help.” She took out a band aid and removed the protective seals with ease before climbing onto his lap without warning and stuck a dinosaur band aid on one of the small cuts on his cheek. He flinched at the less than graceful contact but kept a smile nonetheless. 

“Thank you. I feel much better.” Peter squeezed her against his body, feeling right away that this was right. This was where he was supposed to be. It almost felt like he’d known her all his life. 

You watched them interact and were almost amazed at how natural it seemed. Peter almost seemed more nervous than Addie was but you assumed that it was because she at least recognized him from the pictures now that the puzzle had been put together for her. You’d zoned out, not hearing them talk anymore but watching the way they smiled and how much more comfortable they seemed with each other after each second. 

Suddenly, Addie threw her arms around Peter again, like she would never let him go, “My daddy is a superhero. That’s so cool.” She stated with a smile, her eyes closed. 

You pushed yourself back up to join the duo, wrapping your arms around both of them, “That’s right. He’s a hero. He gives his all to keep everyone safe.” 

Peter shifted and adjusted his arms so that his arms wrapped around both you and Addie and he pulled all of you in as close as possible, never wanting to let go of his first true family moment. “I’m never going to disappear again. I’ll always be your hero.” 

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #dad!peter parker #college!peter parker #peter parker au #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #spiderman #Spiderman drabble #spiderman imagine

[your-average-weeb-dealer]

☘️ Pt 3. AgedUp! Sorcerer! Junpei. AU where everything is fine and nothing is wrong.

☘️ (I think Tumblr ate a message i sent you last night i realized Junpei proably would become a closet marine biologist after Moondregs came along seeing how they are a giant ass jelly fish, so here is Junpei and reader on an aquarium date.) (not me spending over an hour looking up an aquarium in Tokyo to make sure this is accurate)

☘️Junpei finally had just decided to turn off his phone after it continued to ring. When he turned it on that morning, your body still curled into his, bracing himself for whatever awaited him. Which turned out to be 50 messages from Yuuji, 30 from Nobara, 60 from Gojo-sensei (seriously this guy), one from Megumi which just read "Did you have send THAT at midnight to my boyfriend? I had been trying to sleep." and an near uncountable number of calls and voicemails. How much they all cared about him and his sex-life was both enduring and concerning. Leaning more towards concerning. They had become his family after the death of his mother, a role they took far too seriously. But it did bring the biggest smile to his face while making his heart swell.

In the end he responded to them as simply as he could including apologizing to Megumi. You still slept on, eyes shielded from the sunlight that streamed into the flat by the shared blanket and his chest. Almost as soon as he sent the message to Yuuji there was a response.

So when do we get to meet them?

Soon, I haven't told them about anything. They only just found out about the scars last night.

Oh shit. How did that go?

Better then expected, its hard to explain over text. But they ended up saying "I love you"

!!!!!!!! No way!!!!! What did you do?

I said it back, and I meant it.

!!!!!WOW!!!! DUDE!!!

I'll tell you about it Monday.

Why can't you tell me today? 😭

Because they are still here and I want to enjoy whatever time I have with them.

WHY are you texting me if they are still there? OMG DUDE!!! Enjoy you day 🤤🥵😉

Junpei shook his head. Yuuji was a ball of sunshine made human even if Sukuna was more a blackhole and arse. It was a wonder that Yuuji had enough sunshine to deal with that, his dower boyfriend, his strange big brother Choso, and Junpei as his bestfriend. But somehow he did. Putting the phone back down he looped both arms around you and held tightly. Though Junpei had been feeling lighter recently. Somethings did dull in their aches with the passage of time. Having something new and bright to focus on helped blunt the edges as well. Not to mention seeing and hearing how you felt about the scars lifted him up higher. You stirred faintly a mewling cry escaping like an exhale. He shifted slightly to see if you were waking up or still sleeping. Blurry eyes looked back at him.

"Good morning."

"Only if there is coffee in my near future." You kissed where shoulder met neck nuzzling in when he shivered.

"If you want coffee I'm going to have to let you go and your going to have to get off of me." He sighed while raising an eyebrow.

Nipping at the sensitive skin before you slipped off him but still tucked close. Reluctance to move and not to just continue to lay in this moment was a weighted blanket on you both. Till his stomach growled. Now there is moment of mortification when your laying in bed with your new lover and they hear that you do in-fact have a body and it makes noise. With a deep shaky sigh he braced himself for what he didn't know.

"I'm hungry too." You murmured against him.

You continued to surprise him. He let out a gentle laugh and kissed the top of your head.

"Well I'll make you breakfast too then. How are your legs feeling now?"

"Better I'm sure I can stand on my own now, if you want help?"

"No its fine. I want to spoil you this morning."

"Keep talking like that and I'll never want to leave."

"That is the master plan." This time he kissed your lips. Both of you setting aside the minor horror of morning breath to enjoy the remembered contact.

Breaking away Junpei got up trying to remember where his boxers had ended up the night before. The floor was cold and he thought about finding socks. Still he got up and went to the hallway kitchen to turn the coffee pot on.

"Do you have any plans today?" You called.

"Not really do you?"

"No. But I'd like to spend more of it with you." Surprised Junpei turned to you with smile, enjoying the blush across your cheeks while you sat up with only the blanket around your shoulders. He continued to set up the pot measuring out the grounds. Hiding a spreading blush of his own.

"I have a pass for the Aquarium in Sumida, is that something you would be interested in?"

"I've never been but it sounds like fun. You must really like the ocean if you have a pass at the Aquarium."

You had no idea, once he had gained Moondregs he had become a little obsessed with jelly fish and then the ocean as a whole. Next to him the coffee started to pour.

"I think its beautiful, at just a glace its so peaceful but the longer you look the more power you see within it."

"That's a beautiful way to put it. Now I really want to see it, but only if you promise to share with me your excitement. Your so cute." He tried to glare at you while pouring coffee into two mugs. Your smile like a thousand stars took away any power it would have had.

"Cream or sugar?"

"Just some cream, I like it strong." He fixed the mugs till it looked right hopefully and brought them over. Sitting back down he handed you the mug.

"Thank you." You pressed a kiss to his shoulder before taking a sip. "Well if you make breakfast I can get ready and then clean up while you get dressed."

"Sounds good. But I will admit I love you like this." His eyes roved around the shapeless blanket knowing under it was your body which was so new and yet beloved to him. Raising an eyebrow you slipped the blanket off. Sucking in a breath and putting his mug on the table Junpei turned to taste the coffee on your lips. Both of you forgetting everything else.

☘️☘️☘️

It was hours later before you both stood in the aquarium. Junpei had instantly tugged you towards the jelly fish. The large tanks on the floor and walls almost made it seem like you were surrounded by the creatures. Excitedly he started to point them out and explain everything he knew about them. For your part seeing the excitement in his eyes and how he seemed to glow as he talked made you fall harder for him. There was so much joy in his actions and how he spoke it was hard not to be effected by it.

"Sorry I'm probably boring you." He smiled sheepishly before pressing a kiss to you forehead.

"I'm enjoying myself, and I love seeing how excited you are." Leaning into his chest, a comforting bliss in the simple act.

"Let me show you my favorite place." His hand tangled with yours.

From the Jelly Fish exabit you moved to Ogasawara Large Aquarium. The back of it, the aquascope, with it small windows and rounded walls left small areas to be able to watch the fish and sharks swim past relatively undisturbed by others. Holding you tucked to his chest while his head rested on your shoulder Junpei began to almost doze with the happiness and warmth buzzing though your bodies.

"Hey don't be falling asleep on me. My legs are still sore and I have no idea how to get home." You whispered in his ear.

"Fine. It's not my fault your so comfortable." Kissing your neck before standing back up still holding you close.

"Flirt." He loved how you shiver at the contact. "This has been an amazing date, we haven't even left and I already want to come back."

"Then come back with me, let's repeat the day tomorrow."

"Including how we woke up?"

"Especially that part." Nuzzling your neck, desire growing bright.

"I like that plan. On our way back can we get something sweet?"

"I already have something sweet." He whispered before nipping at your shoulder a place he had to recently learned was ultra sensitive. Your shiver and laugh was better then sake. Tightening his arms he closed his eyes taking in all he could of this moment hoping that it held the promise of a future overflowing with more moments like these. ☘️

FSUFHD DUDE THIS WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF MY INBOX AHAHA  AQUARIUM DATES WITH JUNPEI YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU 

as someone who’s majoring in marine biology- it makes me extremely happy just to think that junpei would also love sea life. Also, I think it’s canon that he likes ocean related stuff (idk tho I haven’t googled it) 

[imaginejamesandsirius]

I love your writing and get super happy when I get a notification about this series. My prompt would be: Sirius tries to get Regulus to leave the death eaters and gets roped into trying to destroy the horcrux with him. Sirius drinks the potion instead and this whole mess somehow ends with James and Sirius getting together. Would love some angst!!!

((A/N: Warning for mentions of suicide))

"You sure about this?" Regulus asked nervously. 

Sirius gave him a flat look. "It's a bit late to change your mind now," he said, gesturing to the cave around them. Crossing the water hadn't been easy since the boat was designed to only carry one, and now, standing in front of the basin with the necklace visible on the bottom was kind of the worst time to decide that he didn't want to do this anymore. Their goal was in sight; even if Regulus decided to leave, it would mean that Sirius had to try this on his own. He would prefer not to try that, but he couldn't, in good conscience, walk away. 

"Not that. I just meant- you're better at thinking on your feet. Maybe I should be the one to drink it." 

Sirius shook his head. "No way. You know more about Voldemort and what's going on with the Death Eaters than I do. If the potion is designed to kill the drinker, we'd still need you alive and well."

"You're not going to die from drinking it." 

"You know that for sure?" Sirius asked, tying back his hair. He had no idea how this was going to go, and he didn't want his hair in his face for it. 

"Are you suicidal and I'm just now learning about it?" Regulus asked, looking alarmed. 

"For fuck's sake, Regulus. Take a deep breath, and calm down." 

"I can't believe you are telling someone to calm down, and if there were ever a moment to panic, I should think you'd agree that now is a fitting time." 

"Panicking is going to make it hard for you to think. Just remember: as soon as you can, grab the necklace and get out." 

"I'm not leaving you behind." 

"I'll be fine. I'm not planning on dying in a cave in the middle of nowhere," he said with a smirk. 

Regulus wasn't the least bit comforted by that. He knew Sirius was lying-- he wouldn't be fine. 

Sirius took a deep breath and picked up the cup sat on the side of the basin. "Here goes nothing," he muttered. 

*

Regulus felt like he was in some state of shock. His body was moving automatically, but it's like his brain was frozen in place. He'd seen Sirius have all sorts of emotional outbursts-- from angry and screaming at their parents to silent and shaking. This was a first for seeing him cry so hard he couldn't breathe. Sirius had been fine drinking the liquid at first, but the effects were cumulative. He got a little choked up after a few cups, and by the end, Regulus had been helping him drink it. He hadn't wanted to, but Sirius had figured out about halfway through that he wouldn't be able to finish all on his own. 

It had been a steady spiral downwards for Sirius, but that didn't make seeing the end result any easier. He was a wreck, and it wasn't getting any better. Regulus had been sure that it wouldn't kill him at first, but after seeing him vomit because of how hard he was crying, he started to doubt it. He needed to get Sirius help, and he needed to do it fast. He couldn't just walk into St. Mungo's after betraying the Dark Lord with his brother in tow and expect for nothing bad to happen. 

That left him with one option-- or at least one option that he could currently think of. 

Personally, he didn't trust Potter. He didn't know him, and he didn't care to. But he needed help-- both with the necklace and with Sirius-- and there was no one better than Potter for that. 

Sirius was heavy. Regulus hadn't thought about it before, but Sirius was taller than him and almost twice as big around. Regulus had never felt like a bloody stick before, but he was wearing himself out trying to drag him around. It was something of a miracle that he hadn't fallen over, to be honest. He landed with a grimace on Potter's front stoop, then kicked the door-- he couldn't take an arm away from Sirius for long enough to knock unless he wanted to drop him. He waited a couple seconds, then kicked the door again. "Come on, come on, come on," he chanted, hoping desperately that Potter was home; if he wasn't, they were buggered. He kicked the door again, sending jolts up his leg. 

"What the hell are you-" James said, yanking the door open. His eyes darted from Regulus's face to Sirius's slumped form. "The fuck happened?" he asked, hurrying forward to take Sirius's weight. 

Regulus's arms felt like jelly. Numbly, he followed him into the house and closed the door behind himself. 

"Oi, I asked you a question. What happened?" 

"There was- I needed help," he said, voice small. 

"With what?" James asked, maneuvering Sirius onto the couch. 

Regulus didn't want to talk about it, but he knew that he had to answer a few questions before Potter would relax. 

*

Sirius felt like utter shite when he woke up. The nightmares-- or whatever they were called-- called by the potion had been... vivid. Overly realistic like he was reliving every single moment of the worst day of his life. 

He'd realised, one day back in Hogwarts, that James wasn't going to ever be interested in him. It had him hard. James had gone on a date, and then he'd been so excited about it that he'd started to tell Sirius every little detail-- just like they did with everything else. Sirius had snapped at him halfway through and told him that he didn't want to hear about that shite; James hadn't understood why he was getting upset and got mad in return. There had been a decent amount of insults thrown back and forth, and Sirius had stormed out. He'd spent half of the night away, and he'd seriously considered never going back. He'd been hurt and angry and so depressed that he felt like he couldn't even pretend to be okay. In his opinion, he'd had worse days, but that was the only one that had been horrible where James was concerned. Everything else, he'd had James around to comfort him afterwards. For that, he'd been all alone. He couldn't exactly go running off to James when James was the problem. 

Sirius wasn't suicidal. But he had been that night. Looking back on it, it felt stupid, but reliving it had reminded him of why he'd been thinking about it. It hadn't been stupid that night. 

It meant that when he woke up, not only did he have a tender stomach from vomiting and a headache from crying, but he also felt... fragile. He wondered where Regulus had brought him, because he knew as soon as he opened his eyes that he wasn't in hospital. 

"Hey," James said softly, off to the side. 

Sirius rolled his head to the side to look at him. 

He gave a small smile, looking worried. "How do you feel?" 

"Been better," Sirius said, swallowing. "Is Regulus okay?" 

"He's fine. He's asleep in a guest room." 

Sirius nodded, eyes closing again. He felt James brush some hair away from his forehead and press a kiss to the skin there. 

"I could've been there if you told me about it," James said, softly reproaching. 

"Regulus didn't know who to trust," Sirius mumbled. Sleep was tugging at him again, and he knew they'd have time to talk about it later. For now, it was enough for him to be reminded that James didn't hate him. 

*

The next time he woke up, he knew it was for several hours. The trouble was that he'd rather go back to sleep. He didn't see anyone as he got off the couch and walked to the kitchen for some water. He didn't feel firm enough to stay standing, so he sat at the table to sip gingerly at his drink. He'd need to brush his teeth soon, because this wasn't sustainable. 

He got halfway through his glass before James walked into the room. "Feeling any better?" James asked. 

"A bit," Sirius said. He winced at how rough his voice sounded. His throat didn't hurt, and he didn't really remember much about last night. Or whenever it was that he'd gone to the cave with Regulus. After losing time first with the potion then with sleeping so much, he didn't know how long it had been. "How long was I sleeping?" 

"Couple days," James said with a shrug. "Lily came by to check up on you." 

Lily was training to be a medi-witch, so it made sense that she would've been by. What didn't make sense was that Regulus hadn't protested; he wasn't a blood supremacist anymore, but he'd made it clear that he wouldn't be comfortable around Sirius's mates. He hadn't exactly been lucid for it, but he assumed that the only reason he'd gone to James was because he hadn't known what to do with Sirius otherwise. And, given the choice between Sirius possibly dying and talking to someone he'd rather avoid, Regulus would always choose to talk to someone he'd rather avoid. 

"Is Regulus still here?" Sirius asked. 

"Not right now. He's with Dumbledore, filling him in on what he knows about Voldemort. I told them that they could stay here, but Dumbledore insisted. I figured you wouldn't mind since there's nowhere safer than with Dumbledore. And er, I guess safe is where you want your brother? You're talking again? Or still?" 

"Again," Sirius said. "I wouldn't have been able to keep something like that from you even if I wanted to. Did he tell you what me being sick was about?" 

"Yeah. Pretty sure he didn't want to, but I was sort of freaking out." He admitted it easily, utterly unashamed of it. He still looked worried, even though Sirius was okay now. "You should've told me what you were doing before you left." 

"You were on a date," Sirius said. It was a weak excuse, and he knew it. There was no easy way for him to explain that any time James said he had a date, Sirius left him the fuck alone. He never wanted to do anything that could make James think he was jealous. It had been stupid and he knew it, but he'd figured that James couldn't get too mad at him for not telling him if he got injured-- and if he didn't get hurt at all, then he would've been able to tell James that there had been no reason to worry. 

"That's not the point. You should always tell me when you're going to do something stupidly dangerous so that I can be available if you need help. What would you have done if I wasn't home?" 

The thing was, Sirius knew when James was deflecting. So instead of answering his question, he said, "You were on a date, weren't you?" 

Guilt flashed across his face. 

"What, you lie to me now? About dates?" Sirius had thought he did a pretty good job of hiding his crush, but if James was lying to him about going on dates, clearly he hadn't hidden shite. "What the hell?" 

James swallowed, averting his eyes for a moment to peer at the floor. He toed a piece of dirt. "I didn't want you to worry about me." 

"What the buggering hell were you doing that I would've worried about?" If James said that he was going into Knockturn Alley all by himself in the middle of the night, Sirius was going to kill him. 

"Nothing," he said, taking a seat at the table. 

Sirius glared at him suspiciously. 

"Nothing! I swear. I just sit at home when I tell you I have a date." 

"Why the hell would you do that? If you don't want me to visit, you can just say so." 

"No- fucking hell, no that's not what it is." 

"Then what is it?" 

James looked at him for a long moment. There was something haltingly hopeful in his eyes, but it was clear that he was trying to tamp down on it. "You really don't know?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Am I supposed to know why you lie to me just to sit at home all by yourself?" 

"I didn't want you to figure out that I'm in love with you. I knew it would make things weird. Hell, the only reason I'm fessing up to it now is because Regulus figured it out, and I didn't want him to drop it on you out of nowhere. He thought we were together, you know," James said. "You kept saying my name when you were hallucinating, so he asked me. I guess I didn't answer in a way that wasn't suspicious. He'd make a great interrogator," he added thoughtfully. "He stared at me, and it felt like everything came spilling out." 

Sirius blinked. James had said that he loved him like it wasn't even a revelation. "You love me?" he asked hoarsely. 

"Well yeah," James said, pairing the statement with a soft, small smile. The sort of smile he did when he looked at Sirius like he was the most wonderful thing in the world-- like he was looking at him right now. 

Sirius's throat worked. "I kind of want to kiss you silly, but I'm not really feeling up to standing. Would you erm- help me out and come over here?" 

"You- me?" 

"Not going to snog anyone else," Sirius said. 

James scrambled over to him, nearly knocking over his chair. Only instead of kissing Sirius, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. 

"Hey, my lips are down here," Sirius joked. 

"Believe me, I know," James muttered, like he'd thought about kissing him a hundred times-- and he had. "I want to wait until you can stand on your own for that though." 

"I can stand," Sirius protested. 

"For more than two minutes?" 

"You're making this harder than it needs to be," Sirius muttered, but he relaxed into James's chest. He'd get a kiss soon enough. And after that, as many kisses as he wanted. 

#prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #regulus black #fanfic #suicide tw #filled #first war #getting together #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Gus and Skimbleshanks for the character ask!

All of them?? Oh, gee, okay um...

I'll tell you what - I'll answer all of them for Gus for now, and then perhaps answer them all for Skimble in the future (depending on interest level).

Alright, let’s see...

Gus

Already answered 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 here!

1. Something this character is truly proud of

Gus is extremely proud of his accomplishments throughout his life, and extremely proud of how he worked up from nothing to get where he is - and he will humbly boast about these accomplishments until the cows come home, ask anyone in his proximity.

But, if I may take a moment to be as sappy as a possibly can, what Gus is *most* proud of is his legacy - aka, his children and his grandchildren. Though he never thought he’d be the nurturing type, and he still really isn’t, there is not a soul alive that has come into contact with Gus the Theatre Cat that does not know of his son and daughter, and later, his group of grandkittens. That’s why he’s always lamenting at the young ones that they “think they’re smart” when they do the bare minimum when he *knows* that they’re able to accomplish more than that.

2.Who they want to please the most.

Gus is, quite literally, a crowd pleaser. He’s a showman, so of course he is. He wants to please his audience, his director, his fellow castmates...all at once. He is also very proud when he manages to please his fellow cats or people in his family - for making a name for himself, for getting somewhere, for reaching such prominence as just a *cat* for crying out loud. He’s made it, and that makes him feel happier than anything else considering where he started.

When kittens tell him that they want to be like him someday, he positively beams.

3. Who depends on them.

His children depended on him for the longest time, but he kinda blew it with that one for a good chunk of their lives - and by the time he had started to come around, they were already independent, and it’s one of his biggest regrets that he didn’t come around sooner.

Nowadays, no one really depends on Gus for physical things or favours, but there are many members of the tribe that depend on him to listen and to talk to them. Gus has a way of spinning situations simply so that they make sense, an eccentric conversation style that is both pleasant and distracting, and is able to read the room *extremely* easily. It’s a little spooky how easily Gus can pick up on a situation, with very little conversation, and how smoothly he can transition conversation/interaction style if necessary. Gus can be rather blunt and honest to a fault, but you’d be hard-pressed to find better life advice than from him.

(If we go with my Gus and Bella are siblings, theory, she used to depend on him a lot when they were young, since their parents also weren’t around much - what goes around and all that - to protect her and watch her)

4. What they would do if they had one month to live

Well...I mean...what is he doing now?

Sorry. A younger Gus would have said he would press on with whatever he was doing at the time. He’d want to be back in the pub with his friends, late into the night. He’d love to get a final dramatic monologue in, a final curtain call; die doing what he loves instead of caught up in a bed.

Now, well, Gus is well aware - somewhere in the back of his mind - that he’s not going to live a long time. He knows the end is nearing. All he really wants is quiet - after a life lived out loud, if he could just collect himself enough to sort everything out one thing at a time, and quietly work through each day he would be grateful. Bored to death, perhaps, but grateful.

He’d like to maybe see Bella again, before he goes.

5. A cherished personal belonging.

The blanket Gus began to wear around his shoulders used to be where his wife and children slept and where his grandchildren currently play, and it has a whole cacophony of different scents attached to it. He hates being parted with it. When things get overwhelming for him, he buries himself in it, curling himself under a literal blanket of familiarity - even if he isn’t quite sure *why* it’s familiar.

11. This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

He has a pair of gloves that his wife also made for him that Jelly has patched over the years because they’ve worn thin. She ended up having to cut the fingers off and hem them when they became more hole than glove.

He also has a scarf given to him by one of the theatre patrons from an earlier show of his - a little girl with her mother who was only truly fascinated with the cat on stage, and didn’t understand why they didn’t give him a costume as well. She was helping by giving him hers.

12. How they sleep.

He snores and mutters in his sleep, to the point where he seems to have entire conversations with himself. He’s also rather fitful. The kittens are wary of sleeping anywhere near him, since he has been known to jerk awake suddenly and kick out in alarm (and doesn’t he feel guilty the few times that *has* caught a few of them in the ribs or the legs)

13. What kind of parent they would be.

Well he *is* one, and the answer to that question would be not a *great* one, but not a *bad* one either. Gus is a fun parent, a loving parent, a proud parent, but he isn’t the best parental figure. He isn’t so great with discipline, nor is he great for showing up to anything on time.

I’d say Gus’ strength as a parent came from his unfailing willingness to go along with whatever scenario his children would cook up - from pirates to knights and princesses to aliens - Gus was always willing to jump into the game should they invite him to play with them. And you know he threw his entire self into it, too.

14. How they did in school

Gus would have a been a “graduated from Juilliard” kinda guy, if the timeline matched up - or if he could have afforded it.

As it stands, he didn’t really finish school. Not necessarily out of any inability to do so, but a complete and total lack of interest. He held odd jobs mostly, to support his family, which led him to quietly quitting school. He figured anything he wanted to learn would be just as good coming from direct experience or working under a mentor than a formal education - and it got him where he is today, so all in all not bad.

15. What cologne or perfume they would use

There is a very specific one that my grandfather uses that smells exactly like something Gus would wear - it’s that standard older gentleman scent - kind of like...Aqua Velva but softer - that is slightly on the pricy side, but not ridiculously so. He doesn’t bathe in it, but he uses it religiously.

He *used* to dip into a Chanel perfume that one of his actress friends gave to him after one of their shows wrapped, that he *kinda* thought just smelled a lot like lightly spicy rubbing alcohol but felt it polite to at least...use it - when that finally ran out and he curiously checked on its price...he never even looked at it again.

(”Ridiculous...I may as well douse myself in a bottle of gin it’ll give off the same effect!”)

16. Their sexuality

Gus is bisexual and biromantic, with a preference for Queens, but he’s had several trysts with Toms as well. He was quite the paramour in his younger days.

17. What they’d sing at karaoke

Gus finds karaoke to be absolutely *dreadful* in that he legitimately does not see the fun in it OR its purpose.  And that’s coming from a cat whose whole job it is to perform.

So count him out of that. He’ll monologue on the spot for you, though, if he is so inclined.

18. Special talents they have

Gus used to be extremely good at remembering people’s names - even after just one introduction or overhearing it once (Jelly gets that from him).

He's very good at patter songs and tongue twisters. He also used to delight his kits by speeding through the alphabet backwards.

He can clock a person's personality within literally seconds of knowing them - and he's usually right.

He plays piano and was the one who taught Jelly to play. He can’t so much anymore with his shaking hands.

19. When they feel safest

Gus feels safest in the light when he's able to see everything. He never got stage fright, per say, but would get waves of nerves when he was directly in a spotlight - with the rest of the stage dark around him...like he was being swallowed. He would get nervous to move out of it - the lighting techs needed to be *very* on the ball if the director called for a total blackout (he only really trusted two of them).

20. Household chore they hate the most

Cooking. 100%. Can't stand it. Does not know how the oven works. Cannot adjust to picky palettes well. Definitely a take out dad.

21. Their fondest childhood memory

(Sibling AU) When Gus and Grizabella were children, they put on “Cinderella” (which Bella insisted would be changed to “Cinderbella” because of course. Gus goes along with it because *whatever fine his mother told him that he was the big brother and had to be nice to her*) as one of their very first collaborative plays together - they were around 8 and 6 respectively. They had already put on dozens of little skits and read-throughs and imaginary games, and they loved doing it.

Bella *refused* to be anyone other than Cinderella and Gus refused to play the prince (because it meant he had to *kiss his sister yuck*), so instead it was really “Staring Grizabella as Cinderella and Asparagus as *literally every other part except for Prince Charming*.- they spent hours trying to figure out how the quick changes would work, and making script changes, and hanging sheets behind them for curtains, and Bella glued together a tiny little suit for her teddy bear who would play the prince instead.

All in all, it went about as well as they could have expected - a bit of a disaster. They put it on for their father, who watched with tired eyes and a patient smile, and applauded enthusiastically at the end - and they both decided right then and there that that was what they would do for the rest of their lives.

He considers that his first stage credit.

22. How they spend their money.

Honestly, Gus’ money spending habits are very strange. He will buy himself a new car *once* and then run the thing into the ground until it physically can’t run anymore, won't buy new clothes until you can see through the old ones, will *always* weasel his way out of paying for alcohol at a bar (he has *many* tricks up his sleeve for this one), and he will refuse to spend his money on other frivolous things, but you bet your dollar that he is literally always shelling out money to his grandchildren just because - saying it would be their little secret, and one time bought a bird house because it "spoke to him" but never bothered to hang it up or actually use it.

23. What kind of alcohol they drink

Well, he used to be a “whatever I am given I will drink and I will probably drink *too much*” kind of guy, but since cutting back he’ll moreso partake in brandy or gin, but only in very small doses.

24. What they wish they could change about themselves

There are several things that Gus wishes he could change from the past, but the one thing he wishes he could truly change about himself in the present is how much of a burden he feels he’s become to the others (he's not but he feels that way). Gus is a proud cat, he will admit that. And with that pride comes mourning of his own independence.

Sometimes, when Jelly is helping him do things - like button up his coat or helping him to eat - he just looks at her forlornly and murmurs “My poor dear. You shouldn’t have to do any of this.”

He also wishes that there wasn’t a period of time that his familial relationships were so strained because of him putting his career first, but he can’t really change that so much as try his best to make up for it.

25. What other people wish they could change about them

Gus has the tendency to be a little...let’s say *long-winded*. And a little hypercritical. He holds himself to a high - near-impossible - standard, so he also has a bad habit of holding others to that same standard.

#sorry it took so long i had to think hard about some of these! #jellicles ask because jellicles dare #is-it-mungojerry-or-rumpelteazer #my headcanons #Gus the Theatre Cat

[impishnature]

Iron Blessing

So! Here we are! The first of what I’ve jokingly dubbed ‘Imptober’. This actually is number one in the list but I’m not sure I’ll stick to it as some I’m finding harder than others to think up ideas for. 

AO3 Fandom: Good Omens Rating: T+ Prompt: Shackled Summary: Crowley could really use some angelic intervention to get himself out of the hole he’s dug himself. Small warning for violence/injuries.

"What? No witty one liner this time?"

"I thought you didn't like them?" Crowley smiled, wide and vicious, bloodstained teeth visible as he spat to the side. This wasn't quite how he'd expected to be spending his day but then again, when did anything ever go to plan for him?

The man before him scowled, a deep, dark expression that was filled with loathing and disgust. "Whatever you're trying this time, it won't work."

Crowley rolled his eyes, hating that his sunglasses had been removed, although grimly satisfied as every movement of his pupils seemed to make the guy more nauseously repulsed. "Obviously." He rattled the chains that held him tight against the wall, his arms stretched further than was comfortable and his feet barely touching the floor. Every small jostle caused another spike of pain to spark down his arms, nerves alight with electricity, but he refused to show that pain as he nonchalantly looked around the room.

Whatever he did, it unnerved his target more and more with every passing second, and without a plan or any means of escape, it was about all he could muster in the hopes of somehow getting free.

"Mind slackening these off a bit? I'm starting to lose feeling in my fingers."

The man snarled, stepping closer, their faces inches apart. "Why should I? You don't deserve any mercy."

"Charming. Real religious of you, that is." If Crowley could move he'd have tugged at the clerical collar around the other's throat. So, maybe he'd been trying to tempt him into things he really shouldn't have been, luring him away from his religious teachings and the like, but weren't these people meant to be all about forgiveness and that other rubbish?

"As if you're one to talk." Crowley bit his tongue at the once over he was given. His quick witted tongue had got him more than one punch over- well, however long he'd been chained to this wall- and he was slowly learning that perhaps staying quiet was more likely to get him out of here quicker. "I don't know what you thought you were going to accomplish coming after me, but you chose the wrong person to mess with..." He wished he could wipe that stupid smug smile off of his face. "And soon you'll be back where you belong."

"Oh? Where's that? 'Cause I could really go for a bite to eat right now- oof."

Crowley winced, coughing at the sudden gut punch. OK, so, he wasn't the fastest of learners, but who could blame him when he kept giving him openings like that? He grunted as his head was pulled back, his hair taut and tugging at his scalp until he was eye to eye again with his captor. 

"Joke all you want, soon your vessel will be free and you'll be back in Hell." Part of him almost wanted to laugh. His vessel? Oh, if only they knew how it actually worked. If it wasn't such a worrisome thing to be cast from his body the way they planned, he'd almost like to stay and watch their victory turn to horror as the body crumpled before them, only ever having been his. A particularly hard yank dragged him from that hysterical amusement, made him curse and the man's smile widened. "Just a little while longer. Enjoy yourself while you can." 

And with that his head was dropped, the jolt causing another bolt of electricity to snap down his arms. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the cry that wanted to bubble from his lips, refusing to be vulnerable, refusing to be anything but the monster they thought he was. He waited until he was left alone to give a shuddering breath, to wince at the manacles biting at his wrists and try to gently roll his shoulders from the pain. All it did was cause more issues, each movement a burn across already red raw skin, but everything ached enough that he couldn't quite stop himself from trying.

"Shit, what have I gotten myself into here..."

"Yes. What have you?"

Crowley's head snapped up in surprise, his entire body flinching and causing another stream of pain to circulate his system in a spasm. He cursed, eyes screwed shut, though the relief swelling in his heart outweighed it all as he opened one eye painfully and stared at the apologetically concerned, though also somehow irritated, face before him. "Angel, you have impeccable timing as always."

"I try my best." Aziraphale shuffled forwards, looking over his shoulder as he did so. "I'm not sure how much time we have-"

"Should be a little while, he only just left." 

Aziraphale nodded. "I thought I saw someone leave this room, it's why I'd hoped I'd found the right spot." His eyes trained back on Crowley's, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as his hands outstretched uncertainly, hesitant and hovering around him. "Why on earth are you letting him hurt you like this?"

Crowley huffed, rolling his head to one side to stare at him disbelievingly. "Like I'd let him if I had a choice." He shook his hands, belatedly hissing at the movement before grumbling through gritted teeth. "Ble- fuck- blessed chains. Thought your lot had stopped making these years ago."

Aziraphale winced sympathetically, though his eyebrows were vanishing into his hairline. "So had I. There were memos and everything against creating such things- I haven't heard about anyone being allowed to bless items for the humans like this since the 15th century."

"Yeah, well either this guy is an avid collector or someone on your side is ignoring protocol." Crowley shrugged, before looking between Aziraphale and the manacles pointedly. "So... any chance of a hand? Or did you just come here to gloat at my misfortune?"

Aziraphale ruffled at the accusation. "I came to find you, thank you very much." He put his hand on Crowley's chest, steadying him, as his other hand flew upwards, a faint miracle burning Crowley's wrists even warmer before the binding snapped entirely and with a groan of relief he fell forward into Aziraphale's waiting arms. "I will admit, I didn't think I'd find you in this state." 

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting it either." Crowley hissed as Aziraphale accidentally pressed on forming bruises, wishing yet again that he could put his glasses on as the other eyed him carefully, concern ever present amongst his fluttering hands. "Not every day I get a job like this."

"Why didn't you inform me you had a job? Isn't that part of our arrangement?"

"Yeah, well, couldn't have you interfering with this one." Crowley clung tightly to Aziraphale's coat as he made to move away. "Sorry! Sorry, don't-" He sighed as Aziraphale huffed and pulled him upright, steadying him once more. "I just meant that I was being watched. Kind of put my foot in it down in the office. Hadn't done enough demonic temptations recently and it was made rather clear that they thought I was losing my touch." He rested his head against the other's shoulder, relaxing into the hold as his legs felt like jelly beneath him. "Couldn't have that. Not if I wanted to be able to stay top-side with you." 

He'd probably hate being quite so honest when he'd slept for a week, which was entirely what he planned to do once they got out of here.

"You still should have told me." The words were faint, disappointed in a way that made his heart ache. "What would you have done if I hadn't found you?"

"Well, we don't need to- wait, how did you find me?"

The tips of Aziraphale's ears went red from where Crowley could see them. "I told you, I came looking for you."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"You weren't in your home asleep, and you hadn't been to see me in a while. So naturally I got worried."

Crowley blinked at him for a few moments as they wobbled forward, watching his rather determined stare directly away from him before grinning as widely as his forming bruises would allow. "You didn't."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, you do. What will management say when they find out you used a miracle to locate a demon?"

Aziraphale sniffed. "If I had done that- which I didn't- then I'm sure I could justify it, such as making sure you weren't getting up to any of your serpentine tricks."

"Mm-hmm? Maybe don't tell them your next miracle was helping me escape then."

"I have no intention of giving paperwork in on any of this." Came the soft mutter beside him. "And now is not the time for this discussion. I'm assuming you're not up to getting us out of here?"

"Unfortunately-" Crowley tried to stand on his own two feet, before promptly falling into Aziraphale's side. "-that'd be a no." 

"Of course." Aziraphale finally looked at him, expression trying for unamused but falling short at the image he was obviously seeing, something that Crowley would feel utterly mortified by if he wasn't still on a strange high from the angel coming to get him in the first place. "You owe me one for this." 

"Always, Angel-" Before the words were quite off of his tongue, there was a jarring pull to the back of his collar, not dissimilar to the jolts the manacles had sparked around his wrists, and suddenly they were back in a familiar bookshop, the smell of old paper and tea catching him off guard as he stumbled off course at the motion.

"Easy, I've got you. I've got you." Aziraphale muttered words to him as if it was a mantra. As if he was worried he would pass out on him as he shuffled them both over to the nearest couch, propping Crowley up like a limp puppet before kneeling back on the carpet with a wounded noise. "Dear me, you are a sight."

"Charming." Crowley huffed out a pained laugh, letting himself sprawl into a lying position as Aziraphale knelt before him. "S'not my fault I look good even with a few bruises." He couldn't help but smirk at the cluck of disapproval he received for his smart response. He opened his eyes ever so slightly, too exhausted to do much else. "Thanksss. Angel."

Aziraphale blinked at him, shocked and confused by the gratitude. "Of course. I couldn't just leave you there." 

"You could have." Crowley let his eyes fall closed again. "Probably should have, really." When his words gained no sharp response back, he opened them slowly, frowning as the other ignored him, eyes focused on something else entirely. "What?"

"What's that on your wrists?"

Crowley's frown deepened. He pulled his hands up towards his face with much difficulty, his limbs struggling to hold their own weight let alone fight gravity right now. He had assumed that there might be red raw skin from the manacles and was about to jest as much but the thick covering of black, charred scales that spread wherever the cold metal had touched made him speechless for a second too. "Oh, must be a reaction to the blessing." He winced, rubbing his fingers across them to assess the damage, as painful as that was, even as Aziraphale made a pained noise and pulled his hands apart. "Easy, angel, I just needed to see how damaged they were. Scales are weird, you don't really feel when they're burning. A couple of sheds will hopefully do the trick." He tried to smirk again, though he wasn't sure if it came out as more of a grimace. "Guess I'll have to make sure I wear long sleeves for a while."

Again, his words were ignored as Aziraphale continued to stare down at the hand within his grasp. Fingers trailed across his palm, sending goose bumps and heat across his body in a far different and far more pleasant way than the manacles had. The fingers slipped further, softly tracing scale and skin, flitting worriedly where they met as if testing the waters, testing if it hurt, before gaining courage and pressing on the wounded flesh itself. Crowley gasped at the moment of pain before a cooling sensation washed over every imprint, each touch a soothing balm that coated each individual scale and sealed it over, every press a wash of relief that melted into muscle and sinew and relaxed them all from their coiled state. 

Crowley stared down at his wrist quietly as Aziraphale moved onto the other. It looked the same as it had before, the softest of miracles caressing his skin as if the angel still held him, medicating him so that he could heal with some respite.

When Aziraphale was done with his other wrist, he sat back on his haunches, the pair of them staring at each other as if not quite sure where to go from here.

Another appreciative comment was locked to the tip of Crowley's tongue, unsure whether to let the moment lie or break it where it sat.

As the moment stretched on and on though, the other watching him for signs of further pain, he felt obliged to do so. "Tha-"

"Don't."

He knew he shouldn't have tried.

Crowley sighed as he was cut short. Of course they weren't going to talk about things like rational beings- when had they ever been rational? Communicated? He got it though. If they didn't bring it up then it didn't happen and Aziraphale didn't have to think about why he had done the things that he had just done. Didn't have to defend himself in fear that he'd have to do the same again once he went back upstairs. 

But maybe more importantly, if they didn't talk about it, he didn't have to think about what all of this actually meant, deep down.

Crowley knew all the things that could be spinning in his head, they'd spun around his own often enough. They were always orbiting one another but at different speeds, never quite connecting at the right time for both of them and always missing opportunities that could have changed everything.

He couldn't say he wasn't disappointed though, even as tired as he was in that awkward silent moment.

Thankfully, Aziraphale broke it, changed the entire momentum of their orbits, almost bringing their trajectory back into their normal, pleasant routine.

"Perhaps Downstairs was right."

"Excuse me?"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, mouth tweaking up in that way that suggested he was up to no good. "That you're losing your touch. You've never gotten yourself into quite that much trouble before with just a simple temptation."

Bastard.

Crowley tried to sit up, the hand on his chest stopping him as he was pushed back down on the couch. "How was I supposed to know the priest they were sending me after was a certified exorcist?"

Aziraphale stared him down, anger and shock mingling in his gaze. "They didn't tell you that before they sent you on the job?"

Crowley blinked back at him before groaning, head flopping back against the arm of the chair. "No. No, they did not. Happy? Fuck all details are ever given down there. You deal or you don't. No one cares." 

"...Of course I'm not happy. Not at all." 

Crowley looked back over as a hand softly trailed across his temple, that glimmer of righteous anger still visible in the angel's eyes as he no doubt took in every bruise across his face. He raised a hand to stop him, wrapping his fingers around the other's wrist and softly pulling it away. "No more miracles, angel. You'll start to cause suspicion." 

"I can't just leave you like this."

"You can. And you will." Crowley winced as he shuffled, twisting himself into a more comfortable position. "I just need some rest and I'll do it myself. Don't you worry. I'll be back to my stunningly gorgeous self in no time." His cocky grin was no doubt marred by the yellow and purple mottling across his cheeks but it seemed to soften Aziraphale's face nonetheless.

"Then you should rest." 

Crowley nodded. This was more than their arrangement had ever dictated, but he knew better than to push further. The last time he had tried he had moved too fast and he refused to break this moment, especially when he was so exhausted and vulnerable. He didn't want to cause distress, or for the other to feel the need to defend his actions and take him back to his own minimalistic flat to deal with this alone.

...He really didn't want to be alone right now.

So, if the angel covered him with a blanket when he thought he had fallen asleep, or softly carded his fingers through his hair, soothing his scalp... Or Heaven forbid, whispered softly above him-

"Rest. No one will hurt you here, my dear. I promise you that." 

Well, his lips were sealed. 

No one would ever find out that he had escaped only due to an angel's intervention.

And he would never bring up the obvious affection and concern the other seemed to hold for him, unless the other brought it up first.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley #Aziraphale #imptober 2020

[pinkanonwrites]

Kuroo: Time Stops

Chapter 3, ready and coming at ya!

Crossposted on AO3

On days when the sun was beaming down from up above and it was just too nice to stay inside, and Kuroo was just too lazy to walk somewhere to get lunch, he would sit on a bench in a park across the street from his office building after grabbing whatever was available in the cafeteria, and have his lunch in the sunshine.

He'd always been the type to enjoy people-watching. As he chowed on his riceballs and little plastic container full of sliced strawberries, he'd like to imagine little stories to himself for the people who passed by.

There were the typicals, little old ladies enjoying the weather and jogger moms walking the dogs that their kids had begged them for, raucous groups of kids that swarmed the playground with reckless enthusiasm and young couples who couldn't take their eyes off each other as they strolled, even if it meant that one of them walked face-first into a lamp post.

He swears he didn't laugh. Well, not loud.

Today he was having lunch a little later than usual, and the park playground was covered in elementary school boys who had abandoned their backpacks in the grass on their way home to scramble and climb around the various slides and monkey bars. Before he could even start coming up with a story one seemed to come directly to him.

"Let's play knights and dragons!" One of them hollered.

"No way! You always get to be the knights and I'm stuck being the stupid dragon."

"You're a good dragon! And you're the biggest, it only makes sense."

The tall little boy stomped his foot, visibly frustrated. "No! I wanna be a knight!"

"Well I don't wanna be a stinky old dragon!"

"Me neither!"

The little disagreement was slowly starting to ball into a full grown fight, the group beginning to yell and hurl playground insults at each other, only growling louder and more frustrated with each moment.

Kuroo took a bite of his riceball and hummed, quietly. He didn't remember being this rowdy as a kid. Well, Kenma was quick to shut down any arguments with cold logic, so they didn't have much ground to stand on to begin with.

Out of the corner of his eye Kuroo watched a figure on the next bench over stand up and dust themselves off before walking over to the arguing boys. Maybe a parent? No, looked too young. An older sibling, perhaps. Kuroo hoped they weren't going to give these kids too hard of a time. They were kids, after all.

"Hey, what's all this yelling about? Shouldn't you all be having fun?" You knelt down to the boys' height with a warm smile that made Kuroo's own heart feel just a bit more cozy.

The little boy who the others were pushing to be their dragon sniffled, wiping at his cheeks. "I don't wanna be the dragon anymore. I don't wanna be a bad guy."

"Ah, I see. It's tough to have an epic battle without a big dragon to fight, isn't it?"

The other boys began nodding in agreement.

"Then I guess…" You stood up and scooped the boy under both arms, lifting him until he was dangling off the ground. "The mighty King Dragon will have to step in! And I have already captured one of your brave knights!"

The boys all glanced at each other, visibly confused.

"Well don't just stand there! I've got one of your knights and I'm gonna gobble him right up!"

One boy stepped forward, holding his hand out like he was brandishing an invisible sword. "Oh no you won't, King Dragon! We're going to save our knight and the whole kingdom!"

"Then you'll have to catch me first!"

You took off around the playground, the boy in your arms squealing and playfully calling for his fellow knights as a swarm of kids began chasing after you, bellowing war cries.

And Kuroo's heart stopped.

The afternoon breeze ruffled your hair as you ran, your smile so big and brilliant Kuroo swore it would split your face right in two. And the entire time you ran you kept calling out playful taunts and cheers to the boys behind you, until one of them pounced on your legs and you all went down in a clumsy heap.

Kuroo bolted to his feet, heart racing. But from within the swarm of kids he could see you sticking both hands in the air, waxing poetic.

"Ahh, of course King Dragon was no match for the great playground knights! How foolish was I. Truly they are the mightiest of champions!"

You slumped into the grass and dramatically faked your death as the boys cheered and jumped around you. The boy who usually played the dragon was holding hands with the boy who had prompted the game and jumping up and down.

"I wanna be the dragon next!" The second boy yelled. "And I'm gonna kidnap a knight if you aren't ready!"

"Go forth, my dragon disciple." You called from where you were sprawled in the grass. "Go forth and wreak havoc!"

Like a swarm of bugs the boys took off, scampering and hollering and scrambling all over the playground. For a long moment you simply laid there in the grass, catching your breath. But finally, you hauled yourself to a sitting position and then to your feet, brushing the grass off of your jeans and back before glancing up and making direct eye contact with Kuroo.

His heart almost leapt out of his chest.

Then you gave him a sheepish smile and he was sure his heart had stopped entirely.

"Well, that was fun." You finished dusting yourself off and moved towards him, taking a seat beside Kuroo on his bench. He swallowed hard, not sure if the lump in his throat was nerves or the rice ball.

"You're pretty good with kids, aren't you?" 

"Eh, it's not that hard. The key is to treat 'em like they're people. Most adults seem to forget that."

"Huh."

The two of you were quiet for a moment, just listening to the sounds of the kids playing and birds chirping in the treetops.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone take a tackle like that." Kuroo joked. "Not in person, at least."

You laughed. "I don't think I've ever taken a tackle, ever! Like, was I that crazy when I was a kid?"

"I was thinking the same thing!"

The two of you laughed, Kuroo's stomach feeling warm and full of butterflies in the best possible way.

"I'm Kuroo." He stuck his hand out to yours. "I work over at that office and I'm taking advantage of the sunshine."

You took his hand and offered your own introduction "I'm off work today and also taking advantage of the weather. Great minds think alike."

Kuroo smiled before glancing down at his phone. He really should be getting back to work.

"Lunch bell already?" You teased.

"Ah, yeah. Grind never stops."

You snorted, and the two of you got to your feet, Kuroo gathering up his lunchbox. He really would've liked to keep talking to you, to learn how you got so good with kids, if it was part of your job, if you were seeing anyone at the moment and if you had a preference for tall, dark-haired guys who were easily swooned by your antics.

"Guess I'll see you around?" He offered instead.

You smiled, that same brilliant smile that turned Kuroo's heart to jelly. "Yeah. Now I know where to go when I'm looking for some fun company."

"Or, you know, if you're in the mood to be tackled by twelve 3rd graders."

"Either works. See you around, Kuroo!"

And with a final wave over each of your shoulders the two of you were heading in opposite directions out of the park, Kuroo feeling lighter on his feet than he had in a long while. Looks like he'd be having his lunch breaks outside for a looooong time.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #time stops series #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagines #fics #haikyuu fics

[whimperwoods]

Certified for Independence 3 (Android/AI Whump)

Sometimes when inspiration strikes, it really strikes, you know? This chapter is mostly just this poor baby robot having too many feelings. What memories are still there? What memories does the woman want? What do they do about it? So many hard questions. So much emotional whump.

Default disclaimer I continue to actually know nothing about how computers/machines work.

Here’s part 1 and part 2.

taglist: @bluebadgerwhump​, @bloodinthewaterwhump​

tw: memory loss, tw: captivity, tw: psychoemotional self-mutilation for a noble cause

******

Once the woman was gone, the android crawled into a corner of the cell and curled up tight, tucking their knees to their chest and wrapping their arms around their legs. It was soothing, the pressure of the walls behind them, the pressure of their own arms around themself, and they weren’t sure why.

They knew they should do something to help themself, something useful, something purposeful before the night slipped away, but everything was just so - just so. They needed the calm, too, needed to close their eyes and put their head down and feel the pressure of solid walls behind them, protecting them.

They didn’t know how long they sat like that, just curled up and trying to calm down.

They did know, after a while, that they’d calmed down as much as they were likely to, with the danger they were in still real and pressing.

<“Try to conserve power overnight,”> the woman had said, <“If I lose time tomorrow because you wasted your energy, I might just get … careless.”> They didn’t know exactly what that meant, careless, but if she was going to be in their head again, digging around in their mind, peeling open their body for a peek inside, prying at them with tools and code, then careless was definitely a threat.

They weren’t built for grand feats of physical strength. They hadn’t even been meant to know - to know - it was missing. There was something they’d known once. They didn’t think it was something helpful, anyway. Probably. Hopefully.

The physical thing they knew but didn’t know anymore was something fun, not something to get them out of here. Something with the neighbor-friend, whose favorite donut was another hole in their memory. “But probably not a donut hole,” they joked to themself, the weak humor of it landing like nothing in their chest and making them feel no better than before.

What kinds of donuts did they know? Cake donut. Glazed donut. Jelly donut. Powdered sugar. And subtypes and variations and custards and creams and all of a sudden their mind was filled to the brim with donuts, but they’d never be able to guess their neighbor’s favorite. Not unless the woman had already been careless, had left them something she didn’t mean to, hidden somewhere or piggybacked off something else.

They had no idea where to start looking. How did you find something you didn’t know you had? How did you find what you didn’t have anymore, enough to recognize it was gone?

They didn’t have a favorite donut, themself. They liked looking at the ones with sprinkles on top, liked all the colors, had even been bought one, one time, after they’d kept staring at the same kind every week. A present, from the neighbor-friend. <“I know you can’t eat it, but I just thought - why not, you know? You can at least squish it around in your hands or something. Have a sensory experience.”>

They clenched their hands into fists. If they thought hard enough, they could still feel the donut under their fingertips, as they trailed the most sensitive of their sensors over the top, feeling the hard little lines of the sprinkles, the give of the icing and then the donut when they accidentally poked too hard. It had been - silly. Fun. They’d sat down at the kitchen table next door, together, once the groceries were put away, and they’d put down paper towels around the plates just in case and their friend had - had - part of the memory was just gone.

<“I always wanted to just get a jelly donut in my hand and squish it, you know? Just really squeeze the crap out of it until it popped and see what it felt like.”>

They suspected their friend had done it and not just talked about it, but everything outside their own body, everything about the memory that wasn’t touch or sound, was gone now, sucked into the gap where the details of their friend had been.

They must have other favorite things. At least a few. Raindrops on roses, at least. Their mouth turned up at the corner, but their chest still felt hollow.

When she’s done with me, will I still be able to joke?

They’d always made jokes for other people, for the smiles and groans, for the feeling of connecting. They’d never understood why jokes seemed to relieve so much tension in other people. It had never worked that way for them. It wasn’t working now.

They had to have favorites, though. What were their favorites?

<“Songs about birds don’t count as a genre!”>

<“Songs with birds in them. And I didn’t say they were my favorite genre. I said I collect them.”>

<“You collect them.”>

<“Sure. I have a playlist. But I also just... remember. ‘Free Bird,’ ‘Blackbird,’ ‘I’m Like a Bird,’ ‘When Doves Cry.’ You know. Bird songs.”>

That wasn’t useful right now, but they could already feel themself falling down a rabbit hole into it, falling into an old habit of mind, more songs hovering at the edge of their awareness. “El Condor Pasa.” “Kookaburra.” “Chavaleh.”

Father had called them “Little Bird” before they were grown. Before they were finished. Independent. “Little Bird.” But they hadn’t kept the name. They’d never felt so confident in their new name. Something about picking a new one hadn’t sunk in yet, hadn’t stuck deep down in quite the same way. But their coworkers couldn’t call them Little Bird. Their neighbors couldn’t.

<“So, is Winter your favorite season or something?”>

<“Yes. Easier not to overheat, for one. And - I like it when everyone stays inside. It’s safer that way. Cosier. And I like indoor activities. Movies. Books. Music. Just - sitting around and talking. That sort of thing.”>

<“Nah, man, not a criticism. I just hadn’t realized you picked your name yourself. That’s pretty rad.”>

<“Oh. Yes. I did.”>

Winter wondered why the woman hadn’t found their name yet, to delete it like she had the names of their friends. Was it another of her games? Or was it too well hidden, still too strange, after all these months, when they still so often felt like Father’s Little Bird instead?

They should look for whatever it was the woman wanted. They should look for it, but then they’d have to decide what to do with it, how far they thought they could push her, how much they were willing to risk.

They pulled in more tightly on themself, just a little, just barely, absolutely as much as they could get.

What had the woman said? <“Development information is useful.”> Growing up. Father’s Little Bird. That was what she wanted. To know? Or to take? They couldn’t be sure.

He’d been so happy when they passed the test. When they proved they could live on their own, could pass for human enough to get by, to be independent, to have a life. He’d pulled them into a hug, and they’d hugged him back, trying not to think about the hugeness of the big wide world that was theirs now.

He’d been so proud. And the lady at the front desk had said something about him being proud of himself, and Father had looked over, had met Winter’s eyes, only just now become Winter’s, and they’d known right then, right there that that wasn’t it at all, that they were the one he was proud of. There had been - something. Something.

Development information. The woman wanted all the things that came before that moment. All the parts of their life that had made that one come to pass.

They didn’t know how much they could keep from her.

Their chest ached. They wanted to cry. Then they were crying, which was an inconvenient waste of energy, just now. Their breath hitched erratically, heaving with a thousand inefficient feelings, overwhelming them. They’d never had tear ducts, but their nose and throat suddenly felt half-blocked, thick with emotion as they tried and failed to breathe through it like nothing was wrong.

<“I’m going to ask you how you feel a lot. It’ll probably get annoying, but - I want to make sure I get it right. I need you to tell me if something hurts, or if it’s overwhelming. Emotions are - well, if I get this right, you’ll figure out what they are.”>

Father had smiled. Little Bird hadn’t understood him, hadn’t understood what he meant. But now - Winter tried to distract themself from the feeling in their nose and throat, only to find themself noticing the pulsing ache in their bad elbow again. They wished they knew what had happened to it. Or perhaps they didn’t.

<“People like to pretend they somehow have a self that’s different from their body. Separate. But they don’t. Not really. Not all the way, anyway. Otherwise, you’d think just as well when you were hungry as when you were full, or when you were tired as when you were alert. And that’s not even getting into emotions. You can’t build a person just building a mind. They’ve gotta have both. Or at least - that’s what I think. You’ll have to tell me some day if you agree.”>

That had come when Little Bird was beginning to understand. Father had been tweaking some things, inside their gut. They hadn’t understood emotions yet, really, but they’d been starting to learn them.

Was this what the woman wanted? And if it was, what would she do with it? They wouldn’t mind never crying again, but that would mean a thousand horrible things first, would mean whole parts of their body ripped out of them, tiny things with no rational purpose, no function beyond the million little sensations that made them feel.

<“I’m jealous of you when I’m getting ready for a competition, you know. Your hands don’t get sweaty when you’re nervous.”>

<“No, just prickly. It’s a strange sensation.”>

<“No shit?”>

<“No shit.”>

<“Is that distracting?”>

<“A little.”>

<“What’s the point of it? Seems like a weird thing to happen to you.”>

<“I don’t know. But I guess in competition at least it’s - fair.”>

<“What if you had to compete against other androids?”>

<“Less fair, I guess. But Father didn’t think like that. Not really.”>

Winter felt a shiver down their spine. Whatever the woman wanted, she didn’t think like Father. They hadn’t figured out yet what it was she wanted. She might prefer that they not feel anything at all. She might prefer that they feel pain.

She hadn’t used Father’s name. She’d just referred to him in reference to Winter. Did she know who he was? But she must have. She’d certainly rooted around enough up in their head. But then, she hadn’t found their name. Or she hadn’t found it stored under “favorite season,” anyway.

Winter had gotten ahold of themself. They’d stopped crying. They still felt like their face was too thick, swollen behind their nose. It wasn’t, really. Just signals. Data. Back and forth, chain reactions that became other chain reactions, the start of a feeling in one part of their mind or body reverberating into all the other parts.

It was tempting to erase everything they had of their childhood, just to spite her. Just to rob her of whatever she was looking for. But they were afraid of what she’d do to them if they did. No. They’d have to be careful. They’d have to choose wisely.

What was most dangerous for her to know? But that question had no answer, because they’d have to answer “dangerous to whom?” and they hadn’t worked out who she threatened, outside these walls, if anyone at all. They weren’t so self-centered as to think nothing outside these walls was relevant. They just didn’t understand how the pieces fit together.

What was the worst-case scenario? Father had always been a best-case kind of person, but it had been a relief meeting - meeting - meeting someone. A friend. From - a place. It was good knowing it was alright to think of worst cases sometimes, even if they couldn’t remember why they knew it.

Worst case scenario, she wanted to build an army of evil robots. Worst case scenario, she wanted to take over the world and rule as an evil despot. Worst case scenario, she wanted to feed them to a hungry bear.

The worst case scenario game wasn’t fun alone. They couldn’t think of anything extreme enough to make the realistic worst cases less scary.

Worst case, she just wanted to torture them. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

Worst case, she wanted to be able to disable everything real about them and sell them off to the highest bidder as a mindless, cooperative drone.

Worst case, she wanted to make more like them and sell them off as full people, without the certification paperwork that meant freedom, the paperwork Father had been so excited to give to Winter once they’d proven, together, that he’d managed to make a person who shouldn’t be allowed to be enslaved.

They sorted through the worst cases, trying to decide what they could live with.

It wasn’t a hard choice.

<“I know. It sucks. Sadness, loneliness, fear - they all suck. But remember when we were working on the good emotions? Happiness? Hope? Pride?”>

<“I don’t want to watch any more sad movies. I don’t like them. I don’t like this.”>

<“Hey, hey, come here. Come here. We won’t. Not tonight. We can watch something happy before bed. How about that video of dogs getting adopted?”>

<“That makes me cry, too.”>

<“I told you we could recalibrate that, if it was what you wanted.”>

<“No. It’s good crying. I just - want more of this hug first.”>

They remembered a half-laugh in father’s voice, a puff of air against their scalp as he huffed out a chuckle through his nose.

<“Yeah, Little Bird. I can do that. You’re much more huggable now that we’ve got your skin worked out properly, you know.”>

Winter’s throat was thick. Their nose was half-blocked from behind, and their eyes hurt, aching even in the absence of tear ducts.

For a long, long moment, they froze the memory, savoring the feeling of Father’s arms around them, pressure not of their own making, like what they had now in their little dark corner. Father had been warm. Soft. He’d smelled like himself. They’d felt safe, tucking their head down and curling closer to him. They’d felt loved. They’d felt loving. They’d felt love in the air, family making itself known, appearing from the depths of everything and nothing for the hundredth time, to do so hundreds more.

They deleted the memory.

Then they deleted more.

Learning anger. Learning fear. Joy. Pride. Annoyance. Horror. Hope. Happiness. Some of the best memories they had, and all the things that made the bad ones bearable.

They’d deleted the learning of sadness first, but oh they ached inside, ached worse with every deletion, every new gap where Father’s face and voice and spirit had been.

They couldn’t delete too much. They couldn’t delete too little. They couldn’t get caught. They couldn’t let her know how to teach other people how to feel. Not when they knew the kinds of things she might do with that. They had to be careful. They had to be thorough.

They finished their deletions and buried their face in their knees.

They cried until they couldn’t risk any more of the way it might run down their battery power.

Then they shut themself down, knowing the next time they came awake, it would be morning and she would be here.

It was a hard shutdown, because giving themself a moment to think about it as they faded out would have been too much. They’d spent enough time working up the courage to shut down at all.

#whump #android whump #ai whump #emotional whump #tw memory loss #tw captivity #is philosophical whump a thing? #tune in next time for probably less navel-gazing and more evil #or something idk #lmk if there are other things i should tag/warn for bc i feel like yes but also idk what?

[kxhlzn]

[ii.] the birdwatcher & his lover.

➳ synopsis: it's the summer of '89, and you discover new things about yourself— some good, and some you wish you could swallow and never see again. dealing with the newfound confusion of sexuality, you must learn the ins and outs of friendship and what it means to grow up.

➳ genre: coming-of-age drama, crack, violence, fluff.

➳ characters/pairing(s): eventual stanley uris/reader, unrequited!bev x reader, eventual bev/ben, eventual richie/eddie.

➳ wordcount: 5.6k of trash.

➳ song rec: don't really have any for this one. prolly why it's so bad lmao. um maybe the kenzie smith piano cover of "unjust life".

➳ warnings: profanity, henry bowers, fights, blood, flashbacks (slight chapter 2 spoilers), sexual jokes, underage smoking.

➳ author's note: this became more and more crack at the beginning and i couldn't stop it. sorry for using the phrase "sitting on his face", i saw an opportunity and took it. also didn't like this one as much tbh. not as much bev/reader as the last. this isn't edited god save me

July, 1989.

"she's fucking insane!"

how right richie tozier was, staring in utter horror as you march your way straight toward the older boy who has tortured your friends for far too long. one of his greasy hands grips the short hairs on beverly's head, forcing her neck to recline against the bricks of the library— and in turn, your patience.

"someone's gotta stop her," eddie replies, his brows curved inward in concern. he'd be more vocal, if it wasn't for the fear of henry bowers that limited him.

stanley and bill bike their way down the uncrowded street, scanning the nearby area in search of ben, who requested they all meet him at the library for something he called fascinating. bill nearly crashes into stanley's bike when he spots you stomping your way up to bowers. he does, however, slam into the curb when you capture a handful of henry's mullet and slam your free hand up his nose until he cries out.

bill takes a rough tumble, but eddie and richie don't notice. eddie's palms are covering his eyes, and he tells richie to "let him know when it's over". stanley, on the other hand, is whipping his head between yourself and bill as he rapidly decides to minimize collateral damage from the two accidents: bill's bleeding forehead and scrapes, or the death bell slamming into his brain like a literal gong every time he hears a grunt come from bowers as he's reeling from your assault.

sorry, bill; you should have learned how to ride your bike properly. stanley slips off the seat of his transportation, for once not even bothering to stand it up properly before it is left bare, tipping over onto the curb. he's shaking from head to toe, and his footsteps are wobbly. each meter he's closer to bowers, the more he considers bolting and telling his father to never answer your calls. alas, he can't help but feel an obligation; you've saved him from more scraps with the blonde delinquent than he can count, and you always ended up with more bruises than he did— and you would clean his cuts first.

august 23rd of your 8th grade year, henry bowers takes it into his hands to destroy the lives of each and every child of derry. he's a sophomore at the high school, but that never stops him from picking on you. his first victim is stanley uris, one of your best friends of a year, as he shoves him down, forcing the boy to take a rough tumble.

eddie's prepubescent screeching exemplifies within every second that henry attacks, and by a couple minutes in, it's entirely indecipherable. henry's goon, patrick, crouches beside stanley's curly head, and retrieves his jewish kippah, examining it as though he actually cared what it was. his slimy grin makes your skin crawl.

"nice frisbee, flamer," patrick runs his calloused thumb over the fabric, waves the cap in front of stan's face, and tightens his grip as he stands. stan grasps helplessly for the cap, and you push through bowers (as he's holding richie's glasses above his head), and just barely catch the kippah before it soars into a passing bus's cracked window.

after your fingers are wrapped firmly around the rim, you slam your free hand right up patrick's nose, causing the greasy boy to take a few shaky steps backward. he grips the center of his face, blood slipping from his nostrils, and he growls.

he cries something pathetic and retreats behind henry, who licks his palm, and runs it down bill's cheek leisurely. eddie cringes at the sight. "this summer's gonna be a hurt train for you and your faggot friends."

"as much of a hurt train it'll be for you when you get home to daddy?" you mock with venom, and your stomach swirls in anticipation. you had been entirely aware of what mr. bowers did to his son, and you would have felt sympathetic if he wasn't such a fucking dick. you partially wish you could shove your words down into your shivering guts, and prevent the consequences of your spillage. bill's arms immediately grip around your waist, his bony shoulder turning to hide your torso. his own body trembles, but he doesn't want bowers to see the fear behind his stubborn irises.

henry was shaken at your words, entirely speechless— out of fear or anger, you weren't sure. probably a mix of both. he seems to not even realize what he's doing, but his arm is raised, and he backhands you right out of bill's shaking arms. you land straight on your ass and your ears ring; henry and his gang take a run for it, and slip into belch's car like the slimy no-good rats they are. your head is dizzy from the impact, and the losers crowd around you. four chaotic voices swarm you, and you wave them all away so they don't worry.

but you still grip stanley's kippah like your life depends on it.

the owner of the jewish cap collapses next to you, and he isn't swift to ask for it back or demand it. in fact, it's a thought pushed to the back of his mind when he sees how swollen your cheek gets, and how a trickle of blood is growing in the corner of your mouth. he is entirely aware that patrick is now determined to destroy you, or worse. he is entirely aware of what that means for you, and he knows that you know too. he knows that you know and you still caught the kippah for him regardless, and he feels his heart enlarge, growing pregnant with sadness and appreciation.

all of these voices slamming into your skull, mostly eddie's high pitched squealing, and all you can hear for a moment is stan's quiet 'thank you'.

you nod curtly, and gently push his shoulder with your fist, a lopsided grin on your bruised mouth. "ah, it's nothing, kid."

you wiggle your fingers at eddie, a sure sign that you want him to help you stand. hesitantly, the lithe boy grabs your forearm and pulls you up. you extend the favor to stanley, and yank him to his feet too.

"is everyone okay?" you chirp positively, reaching your hands above stan's head, plopping his kippah onto his mass of curls. his tall form retracts a bit, bending slightly so you didn't have to exhaust yourself. once you were content with the cap's position, you stood in a confident position, fingers wrapped around your hips.

stan removes the kippah and stuffs it into his bag, which he keeps slung around his shoulder. he eyes the losers curiously as they gape at your enthusiasm, but he's the only one that really catches your attention. he mouths a brief, "are you really okay?" and you smile at the ground.

you mouth back, "we'll talk later".

"is that.. are you seriously asking us if we're okay right now, 'cause last i checked..." eddie's words are drowned out.

stanley uris almost squeals when bowers's posture returns, and he's stalking toward your shorter self like he's going to slack his jaw and swallow you whole in one, frankly, sloppy bite. stan rushes in front of you seconds before henry takes an uncalibrated swing, and it knocks stanley straight across the cheek, and you scream. henry takes a handful of your hair and yanks you upward, lifting you off the ground slightly, but he's weak enough that the tips of your shoes graze the grass. the entire time, eddie is screaming, (or speaking really high-pitched, but you couldn't be sure, as you were getting your brains pummeled out), and richie takes a not-so-manly roar and rushes towards the bully. you'd be proud of him if you hadn't noticed his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his legs like jelly the entire dash over.

he pushes henry to the ground by wrapping his arms around his torso and taking himself down too. "you motherfucking slime-fucker, i'm gonna kill you, or someth—"

crunch. your first thought is henry "greaseball" bowers fucking ate richie tozier, and even after your brain rationalized the events after, you still thought that was an entirely plausible prediction. except, you think his screech would have been a little more muffled, and less annoying because you would have felt sympathy for him, for you know, being fucking inhaled like one of bev's cigarettes. both fortunately and unfortunately, it was just his glasses— and you were relieved briefly until it came to your attention that they were no longer sitting on his freckled face, which meant one thing: the poor kid couldn't see shit.

you witness beverly dig her knee right into henry's set of jewels, right before you feel a soft but firm hand on your shoulder, and you're pulled up by a flash of red — bill's gushing forehead — and shoved away from the conflict. suddenly, he's bursting towards richie, and he practically throws him out of the way as he snatches up his glasses and bolts towards the row of bikes laid out. beverly is already waiting for him, holding up the bike so he can grasp it and hop on. eddie takes his cue to get on his own, and you almost run towards stanley but bill grabs you and shakes his head.

"oh, fuck off, denbrough, this isn't a sad movie or whatever!" you break his grip and reach out as far as you can until you catch a handful of stanley's button up. fabric, or a button, tears, but you manage to get him far away from bowers enough to pull him onto the back of his own bike. before he can even adjust himself, you're pedaling rapidly after the others, with stanley's arms wrapped around your torso.

that is not how he imagined the bike moment to go: you know the one, where the girl is wrapped around the guy's chest, leaning her head softly against his shoulder blade, staring off into the sky as they pedal away from the cliche villain? yeah, no. stanley is practically squeezing your organs into your throat, panting in your ear, and not-so-gracefully swerving the bike's balance. you wiggle until he gets the gist that you want to survive the ride, and pedal as fast as your legs can; then when you've gained enough leverage against the others, you stand on the pedals, and stanley's arms slide down to your thighs.

he tries not to stare at the apple in front of his face, so he glances up, and is washed with the image of your face battered and bloodied, but you've got the biggest smile on your lips like you've just climbed mount everest— like saving him was just that exhilarating. but then you try to sit back down, and his arms around your thighs send the bike into a swirl, and you're pretty much sitting on his face until he releases your legs. as if things couldn't get more awkward.

"sorry," stanley mutters, mostly to ease his own embarrassment that's traveled to his cheeks and chest. you both look over at bill and bev, and scowl. they are literally the epitome of the "perfect couple" bike ride, and the two of you feel like barfing.

your reason much different than stan's.

"how are we going to warn ben?" you yell to the entire group.

"kid's a dead man!" richie shouts in reply.

bev jumps in. "we can't just leave him!"

"do you wanna go back?" richie inquires, raising a brow.

her silence is met with you taking a violent u-turn towards the library, and stan wants to cry. you tell the others to get to mike before he shows up unaware of the situation, while you curve around to the back of the building and park the bike by the steps.

"this'll lead us to the basement," stan states while he climbs off.

"i know," you quip.

"what if we get caught? this is a stupid idea," stan says, crossing his arms as you walk up the steps. you shrug.

"so?"

"so?"

"and? we get caught. what are they gonna do, take away our library cards?"

turns out they can do a lot more than just take away your library cards, but they let you both slide when they saw the bruises littering you and stan's faces— you were definitely a sight: two fifteen-year-olds caught in the basement of the library, covered in purple and red marks with innocent gleams on your lips as you try to sweet-talk the librarian into not telling your parents that you were discovered unraveled in the dark together. god, the look on the rabbi's face if he had heard that— it leaves you smirking the whole ride away from the building— through the back entrance, of course.

ben says he got lucky that you were there to warn him, 'cause he was going to come out and look for you all a couple minutes after the others departed. that gives you some relief, knowing that it was the right choice to go back. poor kid woulda been bloodied without anyone there to help him.

once you all meet in the alley outside the pharmacy, (with bev's help in distracting mr. keene, again), you mutually agree to patch each other up at the clubhouse, the only safe place for the losers' club anymore. it makes you a bit sad to think that, but nevertheless true. it's a bit worse that you guys are so terrified to leave your bikes near it, that you take a twenty-minute hike to the secret location once you've secured the transportation far away from its sacred grounds.

eddie scowls at the sight of the door in the ground, covered in weeds and unidentified muck, but he chooses not to say anything. everyone is worn out and drained, and he's just happy everyone survived it. his scowl melts into a deep frown as he goes over the events in his head— he was scared, and he hadn't helped a single one of them; he watched as bev was slammed against the library wall, he watched as stanley was decked by bowers, and he watched as each and every one of them defended each other. god, he was such a fucking coward— could he do anything right?

richie senses the weight on the smaller boy's thoughts, so he tentatively puts his hand on his shoulder. is this too much? he doesn't want to make eddie think he likes him, or anything. eddie simply sighs in response, but in his heart, he feels calmer, like maybe they do want him, even if he's a wuss.

ben crouches down to clear the entry to the clubhouse, while richie starts up a conversation about how he totally whipped henry to pieces, and how his sorry ass is gonna come crawling to richie for forgiveness. ben shakes his head with a soft smile, and richie pokes him with his foot.

"hey, you think it's funny, ben? you were stuffing your nose in a book being the biggest fucking nerd in the whole goddamn world! you just watch, bennie; crawling, i tell ya'. crawling," richie says, bending over enough to get an eyeful of ben's snicker.

"yeah, sure, rich," beverly laughs; she pulls a pack of cigarettes from her blouse, and fishes out a lighter. you can't help but stare when she places a cigarette in between her pink lips, and concentrates as she sets the tip aflame— it takes eddie's voice calling your name to draw you from her form.

"hey! take your inhaler!" he chucks it at you.

you catch it just in time and mutter to yourself about how ridiculous he's being. you roll your eyes as you release a breath of air, and place the inhaler between your lips. you push down on the bottle of medicine as you take a deep inhale, letting the contents push down your throat and into your lungs. you have to hold the air for a couple seconds and swallow.

eddie speaks after he takes a puff from his own. "getting scared like that and beverly smoking a cigarette is a death trap for us."

you blink at him, cigarette in your mouth. you inhale, release, and shrug, handing it back to beverly. "you were saying?"

eddie's face contorts to one of a miniature aneurysm, words falling short. he resorts to rolling his eyes and glaring at the dirt.

ben finally heaves open the hatchet and sighs contently. eddie slips in first, with his newly stolen med kit under his arm. ben enters next, and so on.

the clubhouse is rustic, with its oak poles and shelves of miscellaneous items, like puzzles, card games, med supplies, and non-perishable snacks. mike lights a lamp in the corner of the structure while ben pulls the hatch down to close it, and you take a look around, as though you hadn't been done here a hundred times before.

from right where the ladder drops, is a long step that extends from wall to wall, with a plush cushion positioned right next to the entrance. there's a pile of journals and books next to it, with a metal cup of pens on top of the first one. leaned up behind the ladder is a rather large one, a bit bulky and thick with all the pictures of bird species within its pages. (there's an even larger photo album seated on the biggest bookshelf in the clubhouse, shoved in the far back on a ledge where mike and ben hang out). that cushion is where stanley likes to sit, as one might infer. he doesn't like to fold his legs, so the step is nice for him to plant his feet as he sits stiffly on the, frankly, uncomfortable pillow. it explains the sour expression on his face when he spends hours sitting there, and the way he squirms the entire time like there's a nail protruding out of the cushion and into his ass. you wouldn't be that surprised, though, as he would be too unbothered or unmotivated to remove it.

on the far right of the entire clubhouse, not far from the ladder, there is a structure similar to a bay window that ben built for you after hearing you mention you'd always wanted one in your bedroom. he was eager to please everyone with the building (even though you frankly wished he hadn't put so much strain on himself by making it), so it was an easy decision to include it. of course, there really isn't a window, so it's more of a short stage covered in a colorful variety of plush pillows and blankets. he included a built-in shelf for your sketchbooks, journals, novels, and art supplies as well as enough space to include miscellaneous items that you like to decorate with. the space is a bit long, too— not long enough to be a bed, but not short enough to be a couch, either. ben, being the angel he is, included curtains you could pull pack around the section, as you often slept back there, too.

a storage section is tucked away behind a beam separating it with stan's small seat, and that's where the majority of your games and such are located. it has a wooden wall built on its left side, connecting to the open space set out for mike and bill's favorite place, which is more like a stage than your own. three extended steps stretching from the storage room to the far wall on the other side lead up to it, with a flat surface at the top of the third one. that's where you guys keep your larger things, like lawn chairs, toolboxes, and extra wood planks in case ben feels a bit creative. in the corner, though, there's a sandbox that ben enjoys building structures in (much to stan and eddie's dismay, as they both end up being the ones to clean up after him, even when the poor boy is apologizing profusely for making a mess). bill and mike prefer to have deep, intellectual conversations that are a bit too advanced for the likes of richie, and are just a bit boring for the rest of you. you like to have them too, but sometimes they become repetitive, or perhaps you just aren't in the mood to be a part of them, so the two boys retreat to the stage in the back.

eddie and richie constantly argue over the hammock that hangs comfortably in the center of the clubhouse, which is essentially a cheap old sheet tied securely to a couple beams that were set up for the sake of the structure of the hideout. they always end up a tangled mess in the middle, their heads on opposite ends. eddie likes to complain about richie's presence in the hammock majority of the time (if he's not kicking it back with you in your bay window), but he always seems the most at ease when richie is in it with him. he probably doesn't realize it, but he whines he's cold when the taller boy is absent, or hidden somewhere else amongst you.

ben and bev, arguably the easiest to please out of all of the losers, prefer to keep their hangout simple by placing a couple cheap cushions on the floor by the hammock, close enough reach so bev can pass a cigarette between herself and richie. she likes to lean her head against a beam behind her favorite location and drop her elbow onto a box of comic books that you and eddie share. as bev and richie share a smoke, you and eddie toss your inhalers back and forth between yourselves (it took you a while to convince him to do it, but he eventually decided you aren't as germy as the rest of them).

simply put, the clubhouse was home.

today, however, you decide to be a little mischevious, throwing yourself onto the hammock, with richie and eddie's eyes bulging out of their heads. you cock your chin at them, splaying your arms out to graze the dirt floor beneath you, "something wrong, boys?"

"yeah, that's my fucking hammock," richie scolds, crossing his arms while eddie places a small hand on his own hip.

stan doesn't take a seat, slipping his shoes off, while the others migrate to their most common places. "you guys get it every time. what's wrong with her taking a turn?"

you point your thumb behind you at him, nodding in tune. "see? stan the man knows what's up."

stan smirks, and just as he's preparing to plop down onto his beloved cushion, you swing the hammock close enough so you can capture a handful of his striped shirt. he stumbles into your lap, and quickly adjusts himself to save you both the embarrassment. his entirely too long limbs are lanky and take up nearly the entire sheet; you let your toes wiggle underneath his hips.

"i regret this," you mutter, stan's shoeless (thankfully with socks) foot placed next to your head. he apologizes, and swings one over the edge of the hammock, while sliding the other between your arm and your torso.

"is that better?" stan inquires, watching with amusement as eddie and richie groan and throw themselves onto your bay window. with all that space, you'd think they'd spread out, but no,— they're legs are just as tangled as usual.

"yeah," you say, "so, uh. eds, you gonna patch us up or are we gonna bleed all over our favorite shit?"

you hear an awkward crash behind you, and you pray it isn't your collection of display items on your shelf. there's a tumble, and then the patter of feet followed by an "oh, fuck, yeah". the medkit clatters quietly, while eddie digs through it to retrieve some alcohol and cotton swabs.

bill is the first, provided his injuries root from his inability to keep his eyes on the road. he doesn't talk much through it, rather sits there too calm.

"what happened?" you question and stanley shakes the hammock as he reaches over to his pile of books, and captures one in his hand. his foot digs slightly into your side, and you curse under your breath as you try to peer past his curly head.

stanley smirks slightly. "he saw you punch bowers, and crashed."

"too bad it wasn't 'cause he saw the color of your panties..." richie groans, "'cause then i'd have something to take my mind off my aching face."

your stomach curls in both disgust and amusement, rolling your eyes. "they're just blue, today, my friend."

you turn your head just enough to get an eyeful of richie pumping his fist in excitement. you scoff and throw an empty plastic bottle at him, one you found underneath the hammock.

bill hisses from his position on the floor beside eddie and ben. eddie's legs are tucked under his lap, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips in concentration; ben merely glances everywhere but the cloth on bill's forehead, face nearly a shade of green.

"stop moving!" eddie snaps, and bill mutters an apology, wringing his hands in his lap as he waits for eddie to finish up.

"on the positive side," you chirp, poking stanley with your toe, "henry might have a broken nose."

"i ain't fixing it," eddie says, a small smile evident on his lips. his eyes never waver from bill's cut, though.

"nah," you agree, reading the cover of stanley's book, "i wouldn't put my worst enemy through that."

eddie glares at the cut in response. he can't lose concentration, fortunately, but you're aware it was intended for you. "hey!"

richie snorts. "amen."

the sun disappears quickly behind the horizon, but you can barely tell from where you lay. an orange light passes through the doorway, illuminating ben's soft skin, his head in beverly's lap. he's asleep, much like bill, mike, eddie, and richie. beverly slowly drags on a cigarette, a small reflection of light gracing the freckles on her cheek. her eyes are glazed over, like she might fall asleep herself in the next couple minutes. stanley is contently flipping through his novel, the cover a tinge away from an oak brown. his brows are curled in, his entire body engaged in the pages. you tilt your head at him, curious as to what's enraptured him so entirely.

he doesn't notice, thumb tracing circles in the skin of your knee. his hand is warm, like your cheeks, but you don't notice it. seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you; not noticing things that are obvious.

beverly marsh, though, and that eagle eye of hers, notices. a smile appears on her lips, small and knowing. that's just how she is; small, and knowing.

stanley uris's eyes light briefly, and his lips pursue. he's surprised by something that has happened in the book. he seems to disconnect for a moment, glancing up at you. they drop back down and then rise to meet yours again. this time, he's captivated by you.

you take this moment as a chance to speak with him. "are you okay?"

"yeah."

"no," you press, leaning forward slightly to keep full attention of his eyes, "are you okay? i haven't had a chance to ask."

stanley licks his lips and taps your knee in thought. finally, he clears his throat. "um, yeah. just had a lot on my mind, is, uh, all."

"your pops?" you inquire, reaching behind yourself to get ahold of a box of graham crackers. you tear open the box and package, capturing a cracker and snapping it in half. you offer one of the halves to stan.

he takes it, and nods in thanks. "i mean, i guess. he's always nagging me, ever since my bar mitzvah speech."

you think back to that dreadful event.

"what the fuck do we do?" richie asks, legs crossed as he flails his arms. you pitch him a glare from across stanley, whose legs are tucked beneath him, his face in his shaking hands. his shoulders shake too, and he's vulnerable.

it's like watching a bird caught in a wire.

he's muttering barely coherent words, along the lines of "i can't do this", and "i'm gonna fuck this whole thing over". you grip his shoulders, and position yourself in front of his kneeling body. you give him a gentle squeeze, and he looks up just enough to meet your firm eyes.

"you, stanley uris, are the biggest loser i know, and i mean that in the kindest way. you will tackle this shit. if you choose to go the formal route, i support you. you lie to them as much as you want. if you want to tell them to shove it, i support you," you spill out, and before long, you're not sure what you're trying to imply anymore. "i... we are here, no matter the circumstances. if you want to light this whole place up, so be it. i'll be the fire."

stanley's eyes are bright, and his lip quivers. he doesn't know what to say or do. but he trusts you, and somehow that's enough.

stanley stands on that stage, and he recites every hebrew word he is expected to. it seems to drone on forever, and you can tell, even from your seat, that he is just as bored as you and richie are. his hands are trembling with each page flip, and somehow towards the end, you hear the subtle rip of one. stan chokes up but continues.

by the end, his father is (poorly) trying to hide his fury, and you resist every urge to stand and yell, "he's doing his best! shut up and accept that, you condescending prick!"

stan is silent once he finishes. he takes a minute to turn and face the crowd, but his expression is harder than what you expected when he does. "reflecting on the meaning of what i just read, the word "leshanot" comes up a lot, which means, um, 'to change, to transform'. which makes sense, i guess, because today i'm supposed to become a man."

his hands curl the microphone wire and uncurl it. a nervous tick. "it's funny, though. everyone, i think, has some memories they're prouder of than others, right? and maybe that's why change is so scary. 'cause the things we wish we could leave behind... the whispers we wish we could silence... the nightmares we most want to wake up from, the memories we wish we could change… the secrets we feel like we have to keep, are the hardest to walk away from."

his dark eyes pass over the room, examining the distasteful expressions of each jewish man, woman, and child in the synagogue. when they land on you, he feels a surge of strength, his soul hardening towards the judgmental others. all he sees is you.

"the good stuff? the pictures in our minds that fade away the fastest? those pieces of you it feels the easiest to lose. maybe i don't wanna forget," his eyes don't waver. he pictures all of the memories he has with you and the losers; the quarry trips, the arcade, the photo booth. you have brought him so much happiness. "maybe, i-i-if that's what today is all about, forget it, right?"

his father, the rabbi, surges forward, with a quick, "thank you, stanley".

you curse in your head. let him finish!

stanley dodges him. "u-uh, today, i'm supposed to become a man, but i don't feel any different. there are things i need to experience, still, i think. i'm still just a kid. i'm not ready for the responsibility, for the harshness of adulthood. i want to stay as i am, with my people. i need to."

he stumbles out closer to your pew, avoiding his dad. your nod of encouragement forces him to face him, determination in his bones. he needs this. a final "fuck you".

"i know i'm a loser, and no matter what, i always fucking will be," you say, quoting him. stanley becomes bashful, shaking his head at you. you nudge him with your toe. "still my favorite moment from that. should be your senior quote. love that for you."

"might need to change the wording a bit," he replies, picking at his fingers.

"nah, a final 'fuck you', you know?"

"wouldn't that be a sight."

"you've always been a looker."

stanley laughs softly. the hammock shudders suddenly as you crawl over to his side, and lean your head against his chest. the subtle beating of his heart lulls you into silence, and he doesn't know what to do with his hands. he feels entirely too lanky now, like his limbs might just curl around you like a vine. thankfully though, you tangled your legs with his, and wrap your arms around his torso. his palms finally settle on your back.

"you're my best friend," you mutter against his chest, and he shudders.

"thanks," he chokes out awkwardly.

he can feel bev's eyes burning holes in his cheek, and he can't bring himself to look at her, and she knows it, too. his face burns now, in turn, so he suddenly takes the new cigarette from her, and drags it quickly. he hands it back to her just as fast.

"w—" she begins.

"—shut up," stanley snaps, noticing you've fallen asleep like the others. you're so peaceful.

best friend? he thinks, why do his lungs burn like they've caught fire? why does he feel like he doesn't know himself at all anymore?

why do you feel more distant than ever?

taglist:

@hannarudick @cedricisnotonfire @russian-romanova

#it #the losers club #stephen king #it 2017 #stan uris #stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #losers club x reader #beverly marsh x reader #it fanfiction #stanley uris imagine #beverly marsh imagine #kassie writes #BW

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Ancient Soul

Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU

“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.

Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol

Chapter 10: Soft on You

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing Words:  2756

The feeling of Bakugou’s eyes on you was something that you had difficulty ignoring. You knew that he was watching you closely for any signs that you were about to totally bullshit your way through your next prediction, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, you had no idea what happened at this particular skirmish, yet you were having difficulty admitting such a thing to him. The past couple of months that you had been his “strategy assistant”, or whatever you were called, had gone by swimmingly. Nothing you said had been wrong and everything had gone just as you predicted, so the fact that you were drawing a blank on this one battle was eating at you viciously. More than worrying that he may no longer believe you, you didn’t want to disappoint him. 

You had grown to love the feeling of being praised by him and by anyone else who found your predictions to be helpful. Seeing Bakugou or whoever was sent out to battle return victorious filled your heart with joy, and you dreaded how he may react if you had no suggestions or information for him. What if that was a battle they ended up losing? Surely it would look bad on you, as if you were trying to sabotage them or something similar. What you could do was alluding you completely, and you were feeling very much helpless at this point. Making something up was out of the question, as your conscience couldn’t handle such a thing. So, the truth was the only option. Or, as close to the truth as you could get in your current predicament. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m just not seeing anything for this…” Shaking your head, you sat up from leaning over a map, having difficulty looking at the ever-vigilant man beside you. “It’s… Blurry.” 

“Blurry. Hm.” Bakugou tapped his finger on the map his other hand on his chin as he thought. “Must not be very impactful, then. Isn’t that what you said?” 

Nodding, you glanced up at him, though your felt a heat rise in your cheeks as you caught his gaze. “Yes, though I can’t say for sure. I know I’ve done really well up until now, I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t apologize.” Bakugou began to fold up the map, seemingly not upset at all with your inability to assist him this time around. “As you know, we take your suggestions seriously, but we don’t base our entire strategy around them. That would be foolish.” 

At this point, you learned not to take things that he said to heart. He was a rough man, with very little sense of sympathy or gentleness. You didn’t mind that. In fact, you quite liked it, as it made the moments when he was kind to you all the more special. You liked that he was brutally honest, that he shared the majority of his thoughts and opinions with you without restraint. There were hints of his more tender side shown to you every so often, with a hand to assist you up off the floor or even bringing you a lunch that he prepared himself. Often, you could have sworn that he was even flirting with you, but due to your nature, you had built up this wall around yourself that prevented anyone from coming inside. That included Bakugou, though he had similar defenses built around his own mind. 

You thought that, perhaps, it was just like yours. Getting close to people wasn’t easy for you, as you had a deep fear of rejection and abandonment. It wasn’t something you could really describe with words, but the thought of letting someone in only to have them hurt you deeply was a horrifying thought. Not just a thought, but an experience that you never wanted to relive. Still, this man had an… energy to him. Just being beside him made you feel comfortable, safe and content in this world that you hardly knew. Over the half a year that you had been here, he had taught you so much, even if he called you stupid every time you did something wrong. You were a quick learner, however, and impressed him more than you annoyed him, which was a plus in your mind. 

It would be easier, you thought, for him to accept your mistakes if you could just… tell him the full truth. If you could just tell him that you were from the future, where people drove cars and talked to each other from all the way across the world. He would surely think you’re crazy if you even attempted it, though he seemed to find your oddities more interesting and amusing rather than scary in some way. He enjoyed your phrases and words that were commonplace in your time, but had yet to be created in this era. In particular, he loved the word ‘fuck’ and all its variations, though you had yet to really teach him what it meant. The thought embarrassed you greatly, so instead of the definition, you just told him how to use it properly and… sparingly. He didn’t really listen to you on the sparingly part, since no one else really knew what it meant, he used it as he pleased. 

Besides the fact that it was hilarious, it was also cute, to see his smug grin any time he told Kaminari to ‘fuck off’. His yellow haired subordinate begged both you and Bakugou to know what the word meant, but it seemed that you shared a very similar sense of humor with Bakugou. The confusion was funny to you, and though you felt bad at first, there wasn’t any harm in it that you could recognize. If Bakugou didn’t know those words, he would just tell Kaminari in his own just as crude way. That, and you didn’t really want to change the course of time and linguistics all that much by spreading your phrases across the country. One man was enough, and since it was your favorite man of this time period, you didn’t mind it all that much. 

“I’m kind of glad you don’t take what I say all that seriously… I mean, I’m happy you listen to me, but it makes me feel better that you’re not completely counting on me. That could end up a disaster.” You gave him a smile, moving some of your hair back behind your ear. “I think that your tactics for this particular situation are perfect, though. I’m learning a lot about these things from you.” 

Bakugou nodded, taking a moment to stand and walk the map to its regular resting place, inside of a small cabinet along with other documents. “You’re learning very quickly. At least, you retain information well. That’s a good quality to have. It could help you survive out here for sure.” 

With a small sigh, you gave a shrug, eyes on his bare feet as he came back towards the low table you were still sitting at. “I guess so. Though, I don’t have to learn much being cooped up in this palace all the time.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Coming to stand beside you, Bakugou held out a hand, which you took to use his assistance up off the floor. “In this palace is the safest place you could be. Out there is nothing but death.” 

After standing, you fixed your clothing back into place a bit, smoothing out the fabric around your hips. “I mean, that is true. But it would be nice to at least get to go out to town occasionally. I haven’t stepped foot outside of the palace since I got here.” 

“Again, why would you want to leave? You have your pond with Sushi, your books, your paper and ink to keep you occupied. By now you’ve made friends to visit when you’re able.” 

“I know, and I really am grateful for all these things, but…” Feeling your chest grow tight in nervousness of admitting the truth to him, you fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, not wanting to offend him or belittle his generosity in any way. “I still feel like… I’m nothing but a prisoner. I’ve been here almost seven months, and I’ve done nothing but show my support and loyalty. I had just hoped that… that perhaps by now, I’d be more accepted into the clan.”

Bakugou stood in front of you for a moment, his presence silent and tense. You could tell just by the way he didn’t move or say a word that your confession had upset him, but in what way? When he was angry, he lashed out with words and angry body language, so it wasn’t that. This seemed more like… he was contemplating his own choices on how you had been treated thus far. 

“You have done well. But there is still something about you that my Lord is having difficulty trusting, so he cannot accept you, no matter how… others may feel. I cannot allow you full freedom without his consent.” 

Your stomach bubbling with that dreadful feeling of rejection, all you could do was give a small nod, knowing that anything else you had to say wouldn’t change your situation. 

“But…” 

Confused, your gaze was pulled off the floor to look up at Bakugou’s face, instantly feeling your cheeks flush with heat at the calm expression on his face. Sly smirk crossing his lips, you immediately knew that he had noticed your blush, though you didn’t have a chance to hide it before he spoke again. 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t go into town with a chaperone.” With a gesture to the door, arm outstretched, Bakugou took a step back to allow you room. “Let’s go.” 

“‘L-let’s’?” You made your way towards the exit, even though your legs felt like jelly. “You’re taking me into town? Right now?” This was beyond anything that you had expected from Bakugou of all people. He wasn’t one to enjoy going out into public to begin with, so for him to willingly take you into town himself was intensely shocking. Had something you said struck a guilty chord? Was he doing this because he pitied you or because he wanted to cheer you up? Was this like… a date?

No, no! Don’t think things like that! This isn’t a date! It’s not!

“You’re the one complaining that you don’t get to go out. If you don’t want to--” 

“N-no, I want to!” You stopped for a moment, turning to look up at him in worry. You didn���t want him to change his mind. This opportunity was something that you couldn’t let slip through your fingers, no matter how embarrassing or frustrating it may be. Bakugou, this brute of a man, was stopping any plans he had for the day just to take you into town. It made you excited, nervous and… happy. 

In truth, although your attitude was pleasant and as content as possible, it had been a very long time since you could consider yourself truly happy. Even before you were sent to this world, your life was void of that lightness in your chest, that fluttering in your stomach that spread warmth through every inch of your body. But this… this simple action Bakugou had decided to make was filling you with a happiness you had nearly forgotten. 

“Good,” Bakugou huffed with an annoyed scowl on his face, sliding the door shut behind him as he joined you outside. “Because I won’t be offering to do this again. You’d better enjoy it!” 

Unable to resist the small smile on your lips, you followed him as he made his way towards the stables, finding it difficult to pull your eyes off a particular spot between his shoulder blades. “I’m sure it will be wonderful.” 

“More like a pain in the ass. You keep your name and anything about you to yourself, understand? There will be people who will want to pry and be curious about why you are with me.” 

“What will you tell them?” 

“That it’s none of their fucking business.” Bakugou snarled at you over his shoulder, though you couldn’t resist giggling at his use for the modern curse. “Shut up! Why do you always laugh when I say that word?!” 

“It’s nothing!” You smiled up at him, walking a bit faster so you were beside him instead of behind. “It’s just so silly to hear you say that when you don’t know what it means.” 

“Then tell me what it means! I don’t care if it’s offensive, I want to know!” 

Tapping your finger to your chin, you hummed out in thought, wondering if it was worth it. He would surely get embarrassed if you told him, so you didn’t want to ruin your chances of getting to leave the castle. “Okay, I will tell you. But not until we get to town.” 

“Excuse me?! You don’t get to make the rules around here, Demon. I command you to tell me!” 

“And I promise that I will,” You smiled up at him, bringing a frustrated and flushed expression to his face that you couldn’t quite understand. “But not until we get to town. Deal?” 

“Tch, fine! I’ll hold you to that…” Nearly pouting, Bakugou turned his glare back in front of him, shoving his arms into the adjacent sleeves. Placing your own back behind your back, you peeled your eyes off his cute expression to instead watch your feet as you walked. Your wooden geta sandals clacked against the pristine flooring with each step, as did Bakugou’s, but you found it to be a pleasant sound. At the moment, the paired resonating noise represented a companionship, one which you hadn’t expected to bloom. And yet, your closeness to this ruthless and hot-headed man had blossomed into more than just a professional relationship based around occupational necessity. 

Bakugou was your friend… and your crush. That only made it harder for you to not think that this was something more than him just doing a favor for you. You wanted it to be more, for there to be some other motive that was driving him. Although there may have been a hint here and there as you both made your way to the stables, there was nothing definitive. 

His ears and cheeks flushing could be from the heat. 

Right? 

His sideways glances and wandering gaze could just be him watching you for any mischief. 

Right? 

His gentle touch and lingering hands as he put you up onto Yonaka’s back were just him helping you out and supporting you. 

Right? 

His arm around your waist as he settled in behind you was just to make sure you were body steady and comfortable. 

Right? 

That’s all it was. There was nothing deeper about any of his interactions with you, now or from the moment you had met him. You were just a woman that he used for his own gain and he had no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. 

“Maybe while we’re down there, you can pick some clothes for yourself, so you don’t wear the same rags every day. And some pork noodles sound good, there’s a place in the center of town that sells it with their own special sake that will probably ruin you.” Bakugou spoke calmly as Yonaka lumbered his way out of the castle gates, waiting until you were out of earshot of the guards so no one else caught wind of what was going on. “I hate town, but it will be good to get away.” 

Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you kept your eyes on Yonaka’s ears, which twitched and twisted at the sound of Bakugou’s voice and the chirping birds in the trees. “I-I don’t have any money…” 

“Who said you needed it?” 

Clutching onto the pommel of the saddle tightly, you suddenly found it difficult to breathe, a tightness in your chest constricting your lungs and throat. If only you could tell him that a man taking a woman to buy clothes and dinner during your time meant something more than just a simple favor. In your mind, all you could think of was the possibility that he was doing this in pursuit of something more. 

But he couldn’t be. You absolutely could not fall for this man, and he couldn’t be falling for you. It just wasn’t something that could happen. 

Right?

“Ah, okay… Well, thank you, Bakugou. I look forward to it.” 

“Katsuki. Call me Katsuki.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #xreader #personal #ancient soul

[artificialqueens]

Secret Hearts (Ninex) - Crazy4Kameron

Hey! So I totally meant for this to be part of the Valentine’s day challenge posted by @writethehousedown and life just got in the way. Than this story just wasn’t going the way I wanted it to, and I really wanted this adorable useless lesbians to get the love they deserved. Thank you so much to Mistress and opalescent-cheetah for all of the help editing this. Also veronicasanders for all of the amazing suggestions that helped make this story what it turned into. Hope you enjoy please leave me a kudos or comment.

Why she had let Brooke talk her into this was beyond her. Nina loved her best friend and was willing to do almost anything for her, but sitting and watching ice skating in a freezing cold arena for the next few hours was not top of the list. She would much rather have stayed home with a nice cup of tea and watched reruns of Murder, She Wrote with her dogs.

Out of boredom, Nina offered to go to the concession stand for them, and it was then that she first noticed the new security guard. Her gorgeous dark skin and brilliant, sparkling white smile popped against the blue of her uniform.  I wonder when she started working here, cause I don’t remember seeing her before, and I would definitely have remembered her. Maybe Brooke knows who she is, I’ll have to ask her when I get back. Nina thought, unable to move her gaze from the gorgeous woman.

“Hey, was the line bad?” Brooke asked, moving her legs to the side so that Nina could squeeze past.

“It wasn’t that bad, but on my way out I noticed this new security guard. Do you know who she is?” Nina asked.

Brooke gave her a blank look. “There are a lot of security guards here, Nina, so you might want to be more specific…”

Oh. Of course. Nina flushed pink. ”Well she’s about this tall,” Nina said, putting her hand up to her chest to show Brooke. “She has the most beautiful shade of chocolate brown hair, and her eyes are this gorgeous sparkling hazel colour. Her smile is the most perfect thing that I have ever seen.”

Brooke laughed. “Sounds like someone’s got a bit of a crush…."

“What? What are you talking about? I was just giving you a description of her like you asked.” Nina stated while trying to hide the colour now running up her face.

“Well it sounds like you’re describing Monet, Asia’s roommate. Vanjie told me she started here like two weeks ago. You should totally go and talk to her.” The blonde encouraged.

“Oh, I don’t know. You know I can’t talk to girls I like, plus I’m sure she has a boyfriend or whatever. I mean, how could she not?”

Brooke pulled out her phone and quickly began to text someone. Within a few seconds her phone dinged with a response. “She’s single and gay, You’re welcome. Now go talk to her.”

A mixture of joy and fear ran through Nina’s body.

"But I– what would I even say? I can’t just walk up there like, ‘Hey, you’re hot, let’s date’,                           that would just be weird.”

’'Oh my god. You are hopeless, Nina West.” Brooke rolled her eyes affectionately.

“Hey! You were the same when you were hardcore crushing on Vanjie,” Nina laughed, elbowing her.

“Was not!” Brooke exclaimed, but her cheeks had flared crimson. “Anyways, I really need the bathroom. Come on.” She grabbed Nina’s arm, tugging her through the crowds.

“Where are we going? I thought you said you needed to use the bathroom and they are in the opposite direction?” Nina asked, confused.

“I know, but I just need to do something first.” Brooke stated, pushing through the crowd and stopping directly in front of Monet.

“Hey! Sorry to bother you, my names Brooke, I’m Vanjie’s girlfriend and I teach juniors ice skating.” Brooke points behind her. “And this is my friend Nina. She works at the daycare attached to the complex. We’re friends of Asia’s and just wanted to introduce ourselves, since you’re new here.“

Monet reached out her hand and Brooke quickly pushed Nina in front of her, making Nina shake Monet’s hand. “Oh well it’s nice to meet you.” Monet was a little baffled by what was going on, and was still trying to be polite.

“It’s–uh–nice to meet you too.” Nina replies, still shaking Monet’s hand, eyes locked on each other, but only for a moment. Nina quickly realizes she’s still holding Monet’s hand and pulls it away, eyes quickly darting behind her to look for Brooke and mouth “I hate you” to her before she disappears into the crowd.

“So do you like working at the complex so far?” Nina asked, trying to figure out anything to say.

“Yeah I mean, it’s a job, but it uh, definitely has its perks.” Monet replied, looking Nina up and down, a smile forming over her lips. Nina could feel the heat begin to rise up the back of her neck and into her face.  “So you’re a daycare teacher? How do you like that?”

“OH I love it! I just adore watching all their little faces as they discover and learn new things. I mean obviously it has its downsides, you know, tiny children with sticky fingers can get a little messy at times, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Nina glowed from the inside out whenever she spoke about her job and the kids that she taught each day. It really was one of her greatest passions in life. Monet could only chuckle and watch Nina as she suddenly became very animated and talkative.

“Wow, I have never met anyone who loves anything as much as you seem to love those kids.” Monet said. “And that’s saying a lot considering I live with Asia and have to live through her and Kameron being disgustingly in love.”

“Oh, tell me about it. Brooke is my best friend, and I have to deal with her and Vanessa on the regular.” Nina giggled.

“You have a really cute laugh.” Monet said. “I really like your sweater too. It brings out the blue in your eyes.”

The only thing that Nina could think to say was ‘thank you’, then there was a sudden silence that seemed to be deafening. Nina finally cleared her throat and spoke. “I should -uh umm- go find Brooke. She’s my- uh- ride and it’s getting late.”

“Yeah of course. Well it was really nice to meet you, and I hope that maybe we’ll get to see each other around, you know, since we work at the same place and all.” Monet hoped that she hadn’t overstepped any lines or offended Nina in any way.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again, but it was nice to meet you in the meantime. I hope you have a good night.“ Nina was mentally kicking herself as she turned to walk away. How could she not have complimented Monet back when she was saying all those nice things about her. There were so many things that she could have said and she just blanked and probably ruined her chances. She needed to think of something that she could do to try and win this funny, gorgeous woman over.    

***

Asia had just begun her morning tasks to get things ready for her day at the complex when she heard the distinctive swoosh of the doors being opened and wondered who could be here this early in the morning. Turning, she saw a woman who had been visiting her quite a lot recently, a tall blonde with a kind smile, walking towards her.

"Good morning and how can I help you?” Asia chimed in her best customer service voice.

“You know you don’t need to use that voice on me, right?”

“Yeah force of habit, sorry.” Asia shrugged her shoulders sighing,and with her next intake of breath put a smile on her face. “So what are you doing here so early, doll?” Asia asked, curiosity laced through her voice.

“I just thought that I would come to say hello, and see how you’re doing this morning. See if you need anything?” The blonde smiled, but Asia had a hunch that the other girls’ intentions weren’t as innocent as she made them out to be.

“Is that really why you came to work this early in the morning? Are you sure, Nina?” Asia smiled and sat on her chair, turning her computer on for the day. “Are you sure it has nothing to do with a certain bright-eyed, dark-haired security guard, who also happens to be my roommate?” Asia pressed, smiling up at Nina, whose cheeks she could see flared crimson, and she found herself wishing that Nina wasn’t such a wuss about her crush. Asia knew that despite Monet’s outward confidence, she was secretly insecure and that the two of them would get nowhere without her help…and Asia had never asked to be the one caught in the middle of their school girl crush.

Nina let out all the air in her lungs that she hadn’t realized she was holding in till that moment. It was like her body had turned to jelly, all the tension leaving it at once as she flopped forward on the counter, ”Did she like the chocolates?“

"Yes, but I still don’t understand why you didn’t put your name on the card. It would’ve been less weird."

"Having a secret admirer is sweet and exciting and romantic!” defended Nina.

Asia could only shake her head at Nina’s completely unrealistic view of the world. “I know you think life is a Disney movie, but in reality, things like that get taken the wrong way all the time.” Asia scowled. “Do you want Monet to think you like her or want to harvest her kidney?”

“Okay I get it, maybe it’s a little weird not to put my name on it, but what if she doesn’t like me? I’ve never liked anyone this much before.” Nina’s eyes fell to the floor, and she bit her lip as she contemplated whether she should finally be brave and let Monet know how she felt. “Well, I have another gift for her. Do you think Monet would be freaked out if I left her another one? Should I not leave her any more gifts? I don’t want to freak her out, do you think it will freak her out?” she rambled, anxiety getting the best of her over the situation.

“Not if you put your name on it,” Asia said. “And don’t forget to mention why you’re bombarding her with gifts,” she added on, almost as an afterthought, turning her chair to face her computer screen.

Nina flushed. “I wouldn’t call it bombarding.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t change the fact that you should at least sign this one,” Asia countered, looking up from the screen.

“Fine, I’ll write her a note, hand me a piece of paper, but I’m putting the note inside the box.”

“Won’t you have to unwrap that beautiful paper to do that?” Asia raised an eyebrow with skepticism in her eyes,reaching across her desk for a pad of paper.

“Yes but I am an expert gift wrapper and unwrapper. Just hand me the paper, a pen and some tape and leave the rest to me.”

                     ——————–

"Monet! Come here!” Asia yelled from behind the info desk, motioning her over a look of disdain on her face.

Monet bounded over at the sound of Asia’s voice. “Why the hell are you yelling at me so early in the day?” Monet asked happily, all hopped up on her morning coffee, lifting her hand to reveal a steaming paper cup in her hand..

“A. calm down and give me that sweet steaming nectar of the Gods now,” Asia stated, reaching for the cup in Monet’s hand, “B. there was another gift left for you on the desk this morning.” Asia pointed to a small box wrapped beautifully with red paper that had tiny little pink hearts all over it. This instantly shifted Monet’s focus, as she reached over the counter to inspect the box that looked like it had been carefully wrapped, but there was no tag to say who had left it.

"So are you going to open it or just stare at it till you get x-ray vision?” Asia asked sarcastically before sipping her coffee.  

“I’m admiring the beautiful paper, thank you,” Monet spat back, “now if you don’t mind, why don’t you go do some work or text your girlfriend, so I can open my gift in private.” Monet shooed Asia away with her hand, turning her back to her roommate.

Asia pouted but took a few steps back, still craning her neck to try and get a better view before going to help someone at the other end of the counter. Just then Vanjie and Kameron came walking in, arms linked, laughing about something. They dropped their gym bags on the floor, as they had not made it to the gym to start their day yet.

"Hello, my goddess,” Asia began walking back over after helping her customer. “And what, might I ask, is so funny?” Asia leaned over the counter to give Kameron a kiss. The redhead melted into her attention for a little longer than necessary.  

“Vanjie was just telling me a story about a weird client that she had last week.” Kameron blushed as Asia pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear, stroking her thumb across her cheek and staring lovingly into her eyes.

Monet rolled her eyes, smiling to herself at their public display of affection, but really she was jealous. She wished that she could find some to love as much as Asia loved Kameron. Monet was truly delighted that her friend had found someone that made her so happy. She could only pray that one day she would find a girl like that. Perhaps this secret admirer was that girl… if it even was a girl. She hoped that maybe one day she could see that beautiful friend of Brooke’s again. The one she met the night of the skating show, but she knew better than to let her hopes get too high.

“What ya got there, Monet?” Vanjie asked, curiously eyeing up the little box in her hand.

“Oh, she got another present from her secret admirer,” Asia cooed.

“Another one? Wow, whoever it is must really like you, you lucky girl.” Kameron playfully shoved Monet’s shoulder.

Before Monet even had a chance to open the present, a tall blonde with short curly hair, rosy cheeks and what seemed to be a permanent smile came round the corner. Monet couldn’t believe her eyes; it was Nina, the girl from that night, the one that she couldn’t get out of her head. She was followed very closely by a group of small children in a not quite straight line. It was like Monet was seeing an angel - Nina was as beautiful as she remembered.

Did God hear my prayers? Monet thought, unable to tear her eyes away, as she watched them approach the front desk. Nina stopped the small parade of children and turned to face them.

“Class, it’s time to quiet down now please.” The blonde put her pointer finger to her lips. The children instantly quieted down, pressing fingers to their own shut lips, mimicking their teacher. “Hello, ladies. How are you on this wonderful day?” The blonde asked, turning to face the other girls, all the while keeping an eye on the kids.

“I’d be better if I was spending it with my girl instead of teaching a spin class full of sweaty old grandmas.” Vanjie chimed in before going back to looking at her phone.

“Ignore her, how’s your day going so far?”Asia smiled, putting her hand on the blonde’s arm.

“Oh, can’t complain, just wish I had someone special to go home too.” She blushed, looking at the others, eyes lingering just a little longer on Monet. To Nina’s chagrin, the security guard didn’t seem to notice. Asia clearly did, though.

She raised her voice the littlest bit, projecting so Monet would be sure to hear and take note. “Let me tell you, that if someone as antisocial as I am was able to find someone willing to put up with me,” Asia said, tickling Kameron’s side. Kameron jerked away before slapping her shoulder and wrapping her in a tight hug. “So can you, Nina. I know I’ve told you this before, but you just need to put yourself out there a little more.”  

“I know Asia, I just hate being single.” Nina frowned.

Thank you, Lord, she’s single. I don’t know how I got this lucky, but thank you Lord for letting this precious angel walk into my life. Nina is the perfect name for an angel like her. I love the way that her eyes sparkle when she laughs, how her hair falls in curls around her shoulders and look at the way they bounce when she turns her head. Look how good she is with the kids, they all love her, but how could they not. You can see the kindness in her eyes, as she talks to them, I don’t know how she does it. I could never be so patient with that many screaming kids, but she’s amazing.

“Well, I was just wondering if the kids could hang up some Valentine’s Day hearts that we made. I know that it would make them really happy.” Nina asked, looking back at the kids who were still all standing in something resembling a line, holding giant red and pink hearts decorated with glue and glitter.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I mean, you can just tape them up over there.” Asia pointed over to the empty space on the far wall, and Nina turned her head to look.

Monet couldn’t take her eyes off Nina.

“Thanks, Asia! Come on kids, we can put our hearts up on that wall. Now I want you to all walk over there without running anyone over, and wait for me to help you put them up. Please stay together.” There was a chorus of happy little voices as the children began to scream and run in all directions.

God, could Nina’s smile get any more perfect?

“Hey Monet, are you alright?” Kameron asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine why?” Monet asked, a little dazed.

“Cause you drooling girl,” Vanjie stated looking up from her phone to finally engage in the conversation, “You might want to stop staring so hard and wipe your mouth.” She whispered leaning closer to her friend.

“Ah, shit!” Monet quickly wiped at the sides of her mouth, drying the drool that had indeed begun to dribble out. “Thanks, girl, that could have been embarrassing.”

“So you likin’ Miss Nina over there?” Vanjie wiggled her eyebrows, a knowing smirk growing on her face.

“I mean, she’s pretty cute, but I have a secret admirer and all.” Monet tried to look unaffected by this statement like she didn’t want to just run over there and ask Nina out. Monet could tell by the looks of disbelief that her friends gave each other that they weren’t convinced.

“But, like, what if my secret admirer is smokin’ hot… You guys aren’t buying this are you?” Monet already knew the answer before Vanjie and Kameron could shake their heads no.

“Girl, just go talk to her,” Kameron said. “I’m pretty sure I saw her staring at you too earlier.”

Asia elbowed Kam in the ribs before giving her a quick warning glance.

“What do I even say to her?” Monet inquired, feeling like she was about to meet her favourite celebrity, not go and talk to a cute girl. Monet was normally good at talking to girls, always able to turn on the charm when needed. This was a new feeling, she had never liked anyone this much before, had never feared rejection like this, never felt at a loss for words.

“Ask her if she needs any help putting the kids’ decorations up?” Kameron suggested, ”Then just try and make small talk.”

“Here.” Asia handed Monet a roll of tape. ”Go ask her if she needs any more tape. It’s the perfect ice breaker.”

“Thank you so much, Asia. You are truly a lifesaver.” Monet grabbed the tape, took a deep breath and headed off towards Nina and the kids.

“Jose please don’t push, wait your turn, I’ll be there to help you in a minute.” Nina sighed as she pressed a tape loop to another child’s heart and directed them to the wall.

“Sorry, Miss Nina!” the little boy shouted, stepping back to wait his turn.

“You looked like you could use some help over here. I brought some more tape.” Holding up said tape as evidence, Monet approached Nina slowly and with a smile, so as not to scare her.

Nina looked up, smiling. “That would be great thanks."

The two smiled at each other, but only for a moment before a scream could be heard from the children. Quickly turning to see what had caused the commotion, they were met with the sight of three of the kids fighting over a spot on the wall where they wanted to put their hearts.

"You can’t tell us what to do Antwan!” demanded a girl with brown pigtails.

“Yeah! We can put our hearts wherever we want!"shouted another girl.

"Adelaide, Catherine, Antwan, please come here,” Nina asked with a stern yet soft voice before turning to Monet. “Do you mind keeping an eye on the others while I sort this out?"

Monet shook her head and Nina grabbed her arm, thanking her before taking the other three children off to figure out their disagreement.

"So who still needs some tape for their heart?” Monet was met with an eager audience of hands and jumping children.

“Me! Me! Me!” was all that could be heard in the front lobby. Monet looked back to her friends with a terrified look on her face before she mouthed the word ‘help’.

“So… do we go help her or just let her suffer for a bit?” Vanjie asked.

“I mean, it is kinda funny to watch, but we can’t just leave her to be eaten alive,” Kameron responded, pulling away from Asia to go help Monet out of her current predicament. The other two girls followed closely behind Kameron.

“Okay guys, you need to use your indoor voices now,” Asia said, copying Nina’s earlier actions she put her finger to her lips. The kids were less obliged to take orders from someone who wasn’t Nina, but they calmed themselves. Once everyone was (relatively) quiet, Asia looked at Monet and nodded as a signal that now it was her turn to give the orders.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to play a little game, okay? So I want you all to get in a line and I’m going to put tape on the back of all your hearts. Then Kameron and Vanjie are going to decide who’s standing the quietest and stillest and help them go put their heart on the wall.” Monet spoke as soft and gentle as she could.

The kids began forming a line. Monet leaned over to her friends to whisper, “Does anyone know how many there are supposed to be?” Her friends looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads no.

Monet began to rip off tape and make loops to stick on the back of the preschoolers’ hearts when she noticed a little boy three from the front crying.Crouching next to the little boy, she asked him why he was crying and he showed her that he had ripped his heart. “We can fix that. You want to know how?”

The little boy nodded his head, wiping at his tears.

“Well, what’s your name sweetheart?” Monet asked gently, holding her hand out and waiting for the boy to take it.

“An-Andrew.” he sniffled out.

“Well Andrew, you see this tape here? It’s magic, and it can fix a broken heart just like yours. Do you want to see it?” the little boy nodded his head and took Monet’s hand that she was still holding out. She guided him to a small table near where they were standing and he put the heart down.

Nina had finished talking to the youngsters that had been arguing and had sent them off to go get back in line and wait for their turn. Nina was standing back, watching in awe at the young woman taking so much care and being so tender with her student. The sight made her heart skip a beat and a warm fuzzy feeling took over her body. She decided that she wanted to see how Monet handled her students and stood to the side for a few moments longer than needed.

Monet had Andrew close his eyes as she placed the tape on the rip in his heart. Making sure the tear was invisible, she then had him repeat some magic words before letting him open them to see his art project fixed as good as new. His face lit up with joy and he squeaked with happiness.

“Thank you!!!” he said before running back over to get back in line and wait his turn again.  

Vanjie was helping the little rugrats find the best place to put their hearts so everyone would see them, and Asia was making sure that they stayed quiet and in line. The kids seemed fascinated by all of Kameron’s tattoos and muscles that they got an up-close look at as she knelt in front of them to help put tape on their hearts.

Nina was watching how good all of the girls were doing with the kids; she mentally checked the children off her list as she went, when she realized that one outspoken blonde girl was missing.

Nina began scanning the lobby to see where the little girl could have gotten to, and noticed her over by the front desk, going through what looked to be one of their purses. Nina immediately walked over to where the girl was, crouching down next to her, and was met with the sight of her applying lipstick to her face. The girl instantly stopped the second she realized that she had been caught, handing the lipstick over to Nina, who picked the pursed up off the floor.

“Hey Vanj, isn’t this yours?” Nina asked, holding the purse up in the air.

“What?” Vanjie looked over to where Nina saw standing and noticed the tiny culprit whose face was covered in her lipstick. “Oh FUCK NO!” Vanjie yelled as she took off to gather her things.

All the kids clapped their hands on their mouths in shock, “OOOOOH, YOU SAID F—”

“Vanjie! Language!” Monet yelled before the children could finish repeating the word. “Don’t repeat what she just said, it’s a bad word, kids.”  

“Is that my Fenty lipstick!?” Vanjie exclaimed, taking the lipstick back from Nina, then reaching into her gym bag for her makeup wipes to try and clean the girl’s lips and face. ”Didn’t your mama teach you not to touch what ain’t yours?” Vanjie asked, the girl shaking her head, partly to answer the question and partly to stop Vanjie from wiping at her face.

“ You never take someone else’s stuff without asking. Specially they Fenty lipstick. You stick with Tia Vanj, and I’ll teach you bout the good things in life.”

"Vanjie, we want these kids to grow up to be respectable members of society,” Asia said while trying to make sure that everything was still where it belonged in the lobby and that the kids hadn’t broken anything or run any of the other patrons in the lobby over. “Plus I’m sure Nina can handle punishments.”

“You tryin to say I’m not a respectable member of society, mami?” Vanjie questioned, hands on her hip, head cocked to the side in offense, slightly taken aback by the statement.

“What I’m saying is that you have a way of getting around the rules, which isn’t something that these kids need to learn,” Asia retorted. “I know that your mama taught you manners, that’s the truth. What she didn’t teach you was volume control.”

“I don’t have to take this. I have a class to teach and a hot girlfriend to go see!!” Vanjie yelled.

“Vanjie, before you go I think there’s something that Samantha needs to say to you, isn’t there?” Nina spoke with a firm yet gentle tone, letting the girl know that what she had done was wrong, but Nina wasn’t mad at her.

“Yes, Miss Nina.” The girl’s cheeks burned with shame, and also anger that she’d been caught and lectured. “I’m sorry I took your stuff without asking,” Samantha sniffled out, almost in tears. Vanjie walked over to the small girl and gave her a hug.

“It’s okay little mama, just don’t do it again."

The tiny blonde nodded her head and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Vanjie stood and gave her friends an angry glare before grabbing her things again and stomping away.

"Awww Vanjie! I’ll see you later?” Kameron yelled after her.

“Only if you have a peanut butter and chocolate shake!!” Vanjie shouted over her shoulder.

“Hey! I thought that was a morning thing! Plus I didn’t even do anything.” Kameron threw her arms up.

“No, but your girl did! So now I want a peanut butter chocolate shake.” Vanjie pouted.

Nina walked over to where Monet was standing, shaking her head in the direction Vanjie left in. She motioned in the direction of the other kids. “You’re really good with them.”  

“Well I mean they’re good kids, I just hope my friend didn’t traumatize them.”

Nina laughed at her joke, and Monet felt a tiny sensation of relaxation wash over her body.

”But for real though, how could they not be good kids with a teacher like you.” Monet felt brave and bumped Nina’s shoulder with hers.

Nina’s laughter quickly turned to a bashful giggle, and her heart skipped a beat.

The well-behaved kids seemed to be at their limits, as some of them were laying on the floor, others chasing each other in circles playing tag, nearly running into other patrons on their way to other activities in the Complex.

As Nina was trying to calm the kids down a little, she noticed Monet walking closer, and could feel her body begin to tense up. Oh my goodness, she’s coming over here. How can she be so beautiful and so good with the kids? She’s so funny, I’m not that funny and I have no idea what to say to her. It’s like whenever she gets close to me I forget how to speak. I hope she doesn’t think I’m a total weirdo or a rambling idiot. God I hope I look good right now. There aren’t any stains on this dress are there?

“I think it’s really sweet of you, to ask Asia if the kids can display their artwork in the lobby for everyone to see.” Monet stepped closer to Nina. “You seem to have some real little Picassos on your hands here. Especially that little purple-haired boy. He really seems to be on a level all his own.”

“Oh that’s Salem, they’re such a sweetheart and so good with the other kids. They’re always trying to help out the younger ones so that they feel included during playtime.” Nina began to almost glow while gushing over her kids and how amazing they were. Monet found this very endearing and wanted to know what other wonderful traits this woman had that made her so perfect.

“That’s very cool, their parents don’t force them into a box. And I love that they let them use hair chalk.” Monet smiled.

The children were starting to become louder and harder to control, and Nina knew that this wasn’t going to last much longer. As much as she wanted to stand here and talk to Monet all day, she knew that her kids needed to come first.

“Class! Class! Please quiet down. Jose, please pay attention, eyes front, thank you. Now I know you all really want to put your hearts up, but we need to be a little quicker because Miss Peppermint will be here today, for storytime.”

The children began to excitedly jump up and down and scream at this announcement.

“Children!” Nina waited for quiet again. “Okay so now I want you all to quickly go stand by the wall and find somewhere for your heart and wait for Monet or myself to come to help you tape it up. No pushing, and if you’ve already put yours up, please calmly go stand over by Asia and Kameron and wait.”

There was a sudden stampede of tiny legs in all directions as they all seemed to rush towards their desired destination, seeing who could get there the fastest or who could reach up the wall the highest.

Once all of the excitement had died down and all of the hearts were finally up on the wall, Monet finally got a chance to talk to Nina alone for a few moments.

“You know, you got yourself a really fun little class, Miss Nina. I may have to come and visit from time to time.” Monet reached out to touch Nina’s arm, and Nina visibly shivered.

“That would be nice,” Nina breathed out, trying to compose herself in front of the children.

“Yeah, it would be.“ Monet looked into Nina’s blue eyes and was suddenly stripped of all previous thoughts. All she could think about was the beautiful blonde in front of her. Neither of them was able to look away, lost in the moment, till suddenly there was a chorus of, “EWWW, GROSS!” Snapping back to reality, they noticed that they were now surrounded by tiny faces all staring at them.

There were a few moments of silence while Nina tried to think about what she should do, all of the children still looking at her for further instructions. That was when she noticed that two of the kids were playing near the stairs, spinning in circles and seeing who could still walk a straight line.

“Is something wrong?” Monet asked, concern in her voice, her brows scrunching together as she began to look around too.

“I just need to stop the kids from playing near the stairs.” Nina smiled at Monet to thank her for her concern, as she walked over to where the kids were playing.  

“Kevin and Ashleigh stop spinning like that near the stairs, before someone gets hurt!” Nina shouted. But it was too late. Ashleigh had spun around a little too quickly and slipped on her own feet, falling straight on her face. That’s when the deafening cry could be heard throughout the complex and Nina instantly went into mother bear mode.

It was nothing that she hadn’t had to deal with in the past, she was the teacher of a group of rambunctious preschoolers after all. She quickly walked over to where Ashleigh was now laying on the floor crying, and checked to see if there was any blood.

Monet instantly ran over behind the front desk and grabbed the first aid kit and brought it over to where Nina was sitting on the floor with the little girl, assessing the damage. Nina looked worried as she scanned the girl’s body, for any visible injuries and then began to ask her if anything hurt and if so, where?

Monet crouched down beside them and put her hand on the lower part of Nina’s back, to try and help keep her calm and because she just really wanted to be close in case there was anything that she could do. She hoped that the physical touch would help reassure Nina and let her know that she was there if she needed anything.  

“How is she?” Monet asked “I brought the first aid kit, just to be safe.”

“Thank you. I don’t see any blood, I think it’s just a bump on the head and a few scrapes.” Nina stated.” Do you mind finishing up with her, while I go check on the rest of the kids?”

“No, not at all. We’ll get you fixed up right as rain, won’t we sweetheart?” Monet tried to smile at the little girl, but she was still sobbing too hard to respond.

When Nina came back over after making sure that the rest of her class was okay and hadn’t killed Asia and Kameron yet, she saw Monet sitting on the stairs, Ashleigh beside her all smiles and giggles like nothing had happened.

Standing back up, Nina hugged Monet tightly, winding her arms around her neck. Monet wrapped her arms around Nina’s waist and when she tried to pull away realized that Nina had not yet let go. This seemed to be a little long for just a friendly thank-you hug, but Monet only chalked it up to Nina’s relief to Ashleigh being all right.

”Thank you so much! I don’t know what you said or did to make her smile like that after getting hurt but you are a miracle worker,” Nina said, breath warm against Monet’s ear.

“It was really nothing.” Monet swallowed, her mouth suddenly going dry from their close proximity. She could now tell how good the blonde’s curls smelled and it made her want to run her fingers through them. If she could ever take her hands off of Nina’s perfect waist.

Finally, the two pulled apart, smiling at each other, fixing their clothes just for something to do with their hands.

“Well, I should uumm, you know, get my class back to our room before Peppermint shows up and wonders where we are.” Nina knew she was stumbling over her words, but this gorgeous woman before her just had this effect on her.

“Yeah well, you wouldn’t want her to think the whole class went missing or anything.” Monet laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head.

Finally, the awkwardness between the two was broken when Asia called over. “If you two are done talking, I really think these kids need a snack or something. And to get out of my lobby, before anything gets broken or stolen.”  

“Of course. Everyone say ‘thank you’ to Asia for letting us put up our artwork, and get into line with your hands on your hips. I want to see a line of little butterflies.”

“Thank you Asia!” echoed through the lobby, making everyone giggle and wave at the line of tiny butterflies.

“So Monet.” Asia turned to look at her friend.  “Did you ever get a chance to open that gift you got this morning?”

“No not yet, but I’ll open it later.” Monet had better things to do at the moment than worry about a present from someone with no name.

“Oh, you’re really not going to open it now? Maybe the person left a note inside the box with their name on it and you can find out who it’s from.” Nina’s sombre tone was such a contrast to her earlier perky demeanour. The look in her eyes alone made Monet want to open the gift instantly just to make her happy.

“Why don’t you just open it now, before you forget,” Asia chimed in, trying to put Monet in the right direction, plus she was also curious to see what was in the box.

“Okay, why is everyone so concerned with my gift?” Monet marvelled.

Nina knew that she had to get the kids back and couldn’t wait any longer no matter how badly she wanted to see Monet open the gift.

“No reason.” She walked to the front of the line. ”Come on kids, it’s snack time and then Miss Peppermint will be here for storytime.”

Asia walked over to the counter, grabbing the small slender box before she handed it to Monet.

”Open the damn box,” she demanded.

Monet looked at the perfectly wrapped box, someone had definitely taken time and care while wrapping it. After carefully pulling the paper off, Monet lifted the lid to find a perfectly folded note, sitting on top of two pins. The first pin was a limited edition Storm pin that Monet had been looking for, for what seemed like forever, to add to her collection.The second was the sweetest Mary Poppins pin Monet had ever seen.  

Gently lifting the note out of the box, Monet unfolded the perfectly folded piece of paper, to find that it was written on a piece of stationery that came from the complex.

Monet quickly read the note, then quickly read it again to make sure that she had read it right the first time.

Wait no way. This can’t be right. But the name is right there. I can’t believe this.

A smile spread across Monet’s face as she gently picked up the Mary Poppin pin and pinned it to her collar.

"Hey, Nina!” Monet yelled. “How does Saturday at 7 sound?"

"Perfect.” Nina’s smile was so wide that you could see the joy radiating from her face. Her step was just a little lighter than before and her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird. She couldn’t wait for Saturday.

#rpdr fanfiction #monet x change #nina west #ninex #asia o'hara #kameron michaels #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #fluff #humor #useless lesbians #secret admirer #crazy4kameron

[chloe-clegane]

My Devotion and Mah Protection, Our Love - Chapter 3

These Precious Family Moments

Summary - Now that they've arrived it's time to spend a bit more time with family.

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AO3

The morning after they arrived Rayla was woken up by a peppering of kisses on her face and neck. Callum was on his side beside her under the covers and his hand was grazing the hem of her night shift. Her clean nice smelling hadn’t been traveling for a week and a half nightshirt.

“Goo’mornin’ to you too” She giggled.

He mumbled good morning while kissing her neck. She stretched her arms and tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Campin’ was nice and all, but I like clean sheets.” She rubbed her arms and body against the bed to emphasize.

“You know? I think I can agree with that” He kissed her again and then looked at her with what is arguably her favorite grin, wicked licentious prince grin (although she assumed that that name was unsalvagable after yesterday). She hummed her happy contented hum and bit her lip. That was the approval Callum had been waiting for and his hands pushed the fabric up and out of his way. He moved his peppery kisses down from her chest and past her stomach and they turned slow and purposeful the lower then got. She shifted her legs open for him and he repositioned himself. Then he stopped and looked at her with a smirk. “You know the sheets aren’t the only thing that’s fresh and clean”

“RUDE!” She moved to kick him but be grabbed her arse and she laughed. Then without warning, he licked her opening and she moaned louder than she would have preferred. She could feel the cocky grin from between her legs. He moved his tongue back and forth and up and down. She laced her fingers in his hair and settled into the very welcome wakeup call. She sighed and gasped every time he flicked that sweet little bundle of nerves. She felt her leg twitch and the tingling sensation built from her back. She did her best to control the volume of the “oooohhhhh” that left her lips. “Callum-OOHH!” after she came down from the high she tried to catch her breath. He kissed the inside of her thigh a few more times.

“Did you like that? I couldn’t really tell.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and had stupidest smug grin oh his face. Stupidly cute.  

“Oh shut up!” She slapped him playfully with a pillow. It quickly devolved into tickling, squealing, and giggling. They just ended up making out.

He pulled away to look at her. “You know we slept in right? Half the day is already gone.”

“Seriously?” She looked out the window, the sun did in fact seem high in the sky

“Let’s get up! I want to do something important today” He jumped out of bed and started pulling his clothes on while he spoke. “You stay here, freshen up, get dressed and I’ll go get us some breakfast-er lunch... Lunfast?” he looked thoughtful.

“Mah people call it brunch... ya weird human”

“Oh… That sounds better than my version”

She rolled her eyes “ok go get food, I’ll get ready.” She muttered about him being a goober as he left.

Rayla lounged in the bed for a few more minutes enjoying her post-orgasm gladness. She looked around the room in the light of day. She’d only been to Katolis two other times with Callum since the original visit. Both of those times she had been sneaking into his room to sleep at night and then returning to her own before a soul could see. They were always much more careful here and at the Silvergrove than they were anywhere else. So now she looked around the room and took it in.

She got up, washed her face and changed her clothes. She looked around at the sketches, tracing her fingers over them, there were so many. It was interesting that during their infrequent and arguably short visits he hasn’t seemed to change anything. These 4 walls were a time capsuled of his life before… all of it changed. The desk was cleared off but things were sticking out of the drawers she opened one. It was more sketches. Some were funny little cartoons. One weird one looked like a marshmallow dessert man being burned, or she supposed, toasted alive by a Dragon. It made her smile because it was exactly the kooky humor she’d fallen in love with. She returned it and closed the drawer.

She made her way over to the wardrobe, she’d seen this before, she put a few things in it last night. But she looked and pushed to the back at the clothes he’d grown out of.

“Hey are you being creepy?” he was amused.

“No! Just picturin’ yer life, before I met you.” She smiled, and she knew it must look sappy.

He sat down the tray “Hey we both know my life was incomplete without you so whatever.” he smiled and directed her towards the food. “Eat!”

She japed about not sharing because he’d already eaten breakfast. He told her that although she is delicious, she was also not very filling.    

They rode into the burial site of the kings and queens of Katolis. The clifts were adorned with giant statues of long-gone rulers. It was a little intimidating but also somehow peaceful. Rayla had been here one other time. Her first time to Katolis as an actual visitor. They had come for the winter holiday. Part of the festivities was paying respects to the late Queen Sarai, it was her birthday. They had come in the snow at sunset, they lit up her statue with candles. Her sons laid out jelly tarts as an offering, poppyseed and honey, her favorite.

That was the first time they had to carry out this tradition without their father. It added an additional layer of hurt for Callum and a new kind of hurt for his brother. Candles were lit for both their parents now. They had stayed long after the courtiers and townsfolk had left. In the candlelight, Callum had introduced her to his mother. It was a sad, bittersweet moment. Rayla had wiped his tears and held not only Callum but Ezran too. Together, the three of them stayed wrapped in a blanket eating dessert while Callum told stories. Rayla knew Ezran had heard them before but it was the way the young boy learned to mourn the woman he never got to know.

This time it was in the light of day and not flame. When they arrived at Queen Sarai’s statue they dismounted. Rayla stood looking up at the effigy, her hand outstretched, her face captured her compassion. Callum reached for Rayla’s hand and brought her out of her trance. She smiled sadly at him and they approached the statue and knelt before it. Quietly Callum removed two candles and some jelly tarts and laid them out. He used sun magic to light the candles with his fingers. Neither spoke for a few moments, she watched him intently. Finally, he took her hand and looked up at his mother.

“Hi, mom… I miss you, I think at this point you know I always do.” He paused and took a deep breath to keep himself steady. “You remember Rayla of course... from your birthday from a few years ago. Well… we have big news.” He looked at Rayla with a smile full of sorrow, she squeezed his hand. “We’re getting married mom. And I’m so happy, I want you to know that” Callum’s tears rolled down his cheeks but he kept his breath and voice controlled. It occurred to her that her own tears had begun to flow. “Mom, I think you would love her. She’s brave and kind, sorta like you. She loves me and looks out for me.” This time his voice was starting to break. She loved him so much and seeing him like this never failed to break her heart “Dad used to say that you made him better. She does the for me…” she rubbed his back while he wiped his tears. “I love you mom, I hope you like the jelly tarts” He finished his speech and let the flood gates open. Rayla held him while he cried, kissed his forehead as the swayed with the breeze. He eventually looked up at her and smiled.

“I love you Rayla”

“I love you too Callum” After that, they stayed for a while. She spoke a few words, at first it felt awkward to speak these kinds of things aloud, but she knew it meant the world to the person she loved. She looked at that kind face and asked for approval and promised to keep her son happy and to love him always. The expression on the statue was so soft and it was easy to imagine she was starring right back at her. Eventually, the tears dried and they headed back to the castle.

As they rode Rayla thought about her own parents. Trapped in some dark magic prison. Who knows if they were awake and aware or suspended in a silent coma… She hoped it was the latter. When Callum had watched the memory of her patents battle with Viren he saw the coins but really they knew nothing about them. Rayla had sat Ethari down and discussed it after the battle at the storm spire. It gave him faint hope, Runnan’s flower had never touched the bottom of the pool so he was convinced that Tiadrin and Lain were not the only ones trapped. The magic flower also had a soft glow, thus the dormant and not dead theory. Rayla had always felt hope was a double-edged sword, it brings comfort and reassurance but it also risked greater devastation and disappointment. So she did what she always does, shove it to the back of her mind and stop thinking about it.

By the time they made it back into the town Callum had broken the silence and returned to his usual goofy self.

“Hey Rayla,” he was grinning eagerly. “knock knock.”

“Nooooooooooo, I haaaaate these” she whined and tossed her head back.

“This one’s good I promise, c’mom” he pleaded.

She grumbled, “Who’s there?”.

“Banther” He was holding in a laugh like if you poked him too hard it would pop out.

“Banther who?” It came out as a sigh.

“Your banth-er falling down” He was cackling. She didn’t get the joke and just looked at him with a blank face. “Haha you know? Because Banther sounds like Pants-are” He was clearly pleased with himself. Laughing uncontrollably

“Uuuuugggggggghhhhhhh Callum, that’s the worst one!” She had her face in her palm “It’s so bad!”

He composed himself and smirked. “You just don’t understand my refined sense of humor,”.

She feigned surprise “Oh! Is that it then?”.

Suddenly a rock hit the ground forcefully in front of them, Rayla’s shadowpaw spooked but she tightened the reigns and looked where it had come from. A man stood in a doorway, scowling.

“Go back to Xadia you grubby monster!” Then he slammed the door.

Callum’s hand shot up to draw a rune but she grabbed his wrist. “It’s not worth it, let’s just hurry up.”

“Rayla that was a fucking rock!” He growled

“He threw it at the ground, not at me.” She tried to say it calmly but she knew her anxiety was slipping through.

“But-” he argued.

“I want tae go back, let’s go back... please” she was pleading with her eyes and her words.

He scowled and they picked up their pace.

When the arrived back at the castle he mumbled he was going to train. Rayla knew that just translated to I’m going to throw lightning at things until I feel better. It’s turned out to be a very emotional day… for both of them. The situation made her uncomfortable, she wanted to pull out her blades and teach him a lesson as much as Callum did. But it was just one angry old man.  

As per her usual strategy, she let her fiance vent his frustrations for a half hour or so. Then she went to him, they talked through a few big-big feelings and he agreed that the visit to his mom had affected his temper, it flared more than it should have. After all, it was just one angry old man. They’ve dealt with much worse, they’re’s nothing to worry about.

After dinner, Ezran, Soren, Amaya, Janai, Callum, and Rayla were all spending time together in the royal family’s den. It was a cozy room with a large hearth. There were two couches near the fire with a small table between them, then there was a bigger table suitable for games with cushioned chairs. The room had a large bookshelf in one corner full of exciting novels, towards the bottom were children’s storybooks. Beside it was what looked like a toy chest and a bit cozy armchair, large enough for cuddling. Rayla imagined a very small Callum in the lap of an adoring woman, holding toys and listening to stories. She could picture that kind face that looked down at her today, looking down at a small boy with happy bright green eyes. That sweet little boy had become a wonderful man, now sitting in that same chair with his bare feet tucked under him, drawing in his sketchbook. She loved this man.  

She smiled at him and then pulled herself out of her reverie. Right now Rayla had more important things to worry about. Beating Soren! She called her numbers and rolled the dice.

“HA!” She roared and pulled Soren’s loot towards her end of the table. Currently, it was a few coins, a candy bar, a leather bracelet, and a pretty rock.

“AGH! NO!” He whined.

“You ready tae admit defeat human?!” She knew she was grinning her intense competitive grin.

Soren was clearly working on some mental math. Based on how badly she was beating him, she could only imagine it wasn’t very good math. “Ok one more” He pulled a dagger from his boot and placed it on the table. It looked well made and had a mother of pearl inlay on the pommel. She’d gladly take this off her friend’s hands.

He called and rolled, his numbers were good. Rayla took a moment to contemplate the dice she would select from the pile. When all of a sudden there was a guard at the door.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty, there is a Moonshadow elf gentlemen here to see the Prince and his companion Rayla. Should I allow him in?” Rayla’s head whipped up, what? who?

Ezran looked up from the board game he’d been playing with Janai and Amaya “Yes of course. Bring him here”

“Very good Your Majesty” he closed the door. Everyone’s attention was brought away from what they were doing. Rayla tried to bring her mind back to the game, she called her numbers, threw her dice and then the door opened.

“YES I BEAT YOU! TAKE THAT RAYLA!” She barely heard Soren’s cries of victory or saw him pulling the pot across the table.

“ETHARI!” She jumped to her feet and ran to him. He caught her and they embraced. “What are you doin’ here?!”

“Rayla I got your letter and I left as soon as ah could. Ah had tae talk tae you in person” He held her shoulders and looked at her seriously.

“Wait, no!” Callum tried to get up out of the chair but the foot he was sitting on had fallen asleep and he tumbled forward. “Ethati you can’t say no or stop us from-”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Ethari looked confused and then laughed “I’m not here tae stop you both” He hugged her again. “Ah needed to tell you congratulations in person. Plus you said nothing of when the weddin’ would be, ah was afraid ah would miss it.”

“Aghhhh that tingles” Callum muttered, wiggling his toes while he sat on the floor “So we have your blessing then?”

“Callum you don’ need it.” He smiled sweetly “but yes. There is an energy that connects people, ah had that with Runnan and Rayla, your parents had it, ah see it in you two.” He had always been one to believe in greater forces in the world, trust instinct, and serendipity.

She held Ethari and tried not to cry. Oh, how she loathed crying in front of other people and it’s been happening far too often. She hadn’t anticipated him refusing but similar to Callum’s family, they expected some small amount of apprehension. She looked down at her Fiance agh, I love him sooooo muuuuch. Admittedly it was a very strang reaction to a grown man rolling around on the floor hissing and shaking his foot. He started pulling himself up and she grabbed him by his jacket and jerked him over into a hug with her Uncle. Rayla was so unbelievably happy it warmed her from the inside out.

Ezran spoke up, kind as always. “Ethari, welcome to our home, it’s good to meet you again.”

“Oh yes, and an impressive home it is” He bowed but Ezran urged him not to. “Ah thank you for receivin’ me like this, probably should have written ahead of time. Ah didn’t think about it until I had already left” he chuckled, made a face and knocked on his forehead.

“We’re going to be family soon, you’ll always be welcome here” Ez smiled so genuinely.

Rayla stood back a little and looked at her uncle, he was road-weary “You’ve been travelin’, you must be tired” Rayla started to fret. “Are you hungry?”

Ethari was never one to complain “Oh it’s alright, I just uh” Almost on cue his stomach rumbled and he shrugged.

Ezran spoke to the guard “Would you please ask Barius to make a plate for Ethari and bring it here. Please also see to it that a room is ready and a bath prepared”

Her uncle wiggled his eyebrows at Rayla and whispered “ah feel so fancy”

“You’ll get used tae it” she winked.

“Oh and bring some wine. I would like to toast our expanding family” Rayla tried not to laugh when Amaya mean mugged her nephew, when Ez saw it he recoiled “uh… and a cup of juice…” he looked deflated but Rayla winked at him.

Now it was Amaya’s turn to stand, Janai translated for her (she’d become very good at sigh language in the last few years). “Please sit with us and feel welcome” She pulled the extra chair out and gestured for him to sit. He thanked her and accepted, she returned to her own seat beside him. “We’ve never been formally introduced. I am Callum and Ezran’s aunt General Amaya, this is my girlfriend Janai, Queen of Lux Aurea”

Ethari’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to bow. Janai pinned his arm to the table and spoke for herself laughing. “No need to bow. If this was my royal court, or if I was my late sister it would be another story. I don’t need so much formality.”

“Yeah this is called the family den for a reason” Ezran pointed out. “Bowing is banned in this room”

“Oh, ah see, well I’ll be sure to respect the laws of the den.” her uncle smiled.

Amaya pointed at Callum with her thumb “I’m surprised you want her to marry this weirdo, I love him but still” She smirked. Rayla knew the teasing was still retribution for the licentious prince thing. Callum cried out about her being mean to him. They all fell into a friendly conversation after that.

Rayla came up behind Ethari, resting her chin on his head and wrapping her arms around his neck. She always forgets how much she missed him until they’re reunited. Her Uncle Ethari had a calming presence in her life. The person she would go to with her problems when her parents were gone. He would braid her hair and they would talk and talk. He placed his hand over hers and they swayed slightly. Without using words the two of them had a tender exchange. The distance was gone.

Callum had put his sketchbook away and pulled his armchair closer to the table. It was their turn to have a silent exchange. He was happy her uncle was here and he loved seeing her happy like this.

Soon a generous tray was brought for Ethari, it seems the cook wasn’t sure what to serve the elf and so he sent about four options. Along with the juice and wine, he also sent up a large batch of warm jelly tarts. Everyone ate and toasted the happy couple and they picked out another game that would accommodate the whole group.

Rayla finished her cup of wine and poured another small cup. While the board game rules were being explained. Rayla quietly took Ezran’s cup and swapped it with her own. She put her finger to her lips and winked. They shared a grin. Callum shot her a look that said do not get my baby brother drunk! She went and sat in his lap and whispered in his ear. “You saw nothing.” she kissed his cheek “it was just a wee bit” Ez grinned at her as he tried to drink the alcohol without making a face.

Callum pulled her close “You’re a bad influence”

“Yeah but you like it” she teased.

“You got me there. Hey Rayla?

“Yeah?”

“This ” He motioned with a look “feels perfect” They shared a warm smile and a loving kiss before being harassed by the group. His Aunt instructed the “Get a room”.

#My Devotion and Mah Protection Our Love #rayllum #older rayllum #myfics #rayllum fic #quality family time #Rayla and Soren best buddy hour #the dragon prince #ao3 #rayla #Callum #fanfic #my fics

[itsbuckysworld]

Yoga 101 | pt 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader Guest Appearance: Natasha World: AU.

Warnings: fluffy, mentions of smut in the form of thinking too much about how sexy bucky is, language. 

Summary: Yoga would be the perfect activity for relaxing and just letting your mind go blank, if the yoga instructor wasn’t so fucking nice and so damn hot. 

A/N: written for the #omnomwritingchallenge1.1k. My word choice was yoga, so I present to you, Yoga with Bucky, part two. @omnomsauruswrites​

Smooches! xoxo L

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Huge huge huge thanks to @delicatelyherdreams, @caitfairwrites and @sunmoonandbucky. Through the almost a month that took me to write this, they helped me with typos, cheering me on and assuring me this was worth writing. I will forever be so grateful to them, and they are now stuck with me loving them too much so whoops. NOT MY GIFS

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

PART ONE HERE

a recap:

Your best friend Natasha leaves you, to fend for yourself and try to survive an open air, one-on-one class with Bucky, the hot yogi you’re crushing hard on, that you met by pure mistake in your search for a stress relieving activity.

»»————-　　-————««

Your hands are trembling when Bucky walks you back to your car. Natasha is nowhere to be seen and you don’t know if that’s good or bad.

He taught you the basic movements, keeping it simple yet entertaining. This time around you did feel a bit more relaxed after the session. There was a lot of learning involved and a lot of long sighs when a stretch felt like it was doing its job, even at a beginner level. Bucky would grin at you every time, making your cheeks feel warmer and warmer, not only from the afternoon sun, but because he was Bucky, and that was enough to have you hot and bothered to begin with.

Bucky made jokes here and there, as if it wasn’t hard enough for you to focus on the task at hand. Each time he switched positions, he had to run a hand through his hair and you’d be lying if it didn’t make you feel some type of way – horny, that’s the type of way – but you had to give yourself a medal for keeping it cool despite the long looks he’d throw at you and the husky voice he would speak in when giving you directions.

As you neared your car, you were a little sad the afternoon was coming to an end. As hard as it was to make sense of the english language when he was around, you wanted to spend more time with him. He was funny, kind, nice, gentle, and hot. Honestly a dream come true. A man like that doesn’t come by easily. But another little detail the afternoon had brought to your attention was exactly that. A man like that didn’t stay single for long; there was no way he didn’t have someone waiting for him back home – you could only hope you were wrong to think that.

“Well, I hope to see you again soon” his cheerful tone snapped you out of your thoughts and you spied Natasha leaning against your car as you approached. Her all knowing grin was still there, perfect teeth and silently mocking, as usual.

“Uh, yeah, maybe. I feel a little better now, thanks for today.”

“I’m glad you do. And I’m here to help, anytime.” the warmth in his eyes was almost as unbearable as the summer sun: too bright, too consuming, too much to handle. You’re thanking the universe that you are close enough to your car to get support, because once more, this man has turned your legs to jelly with a single phrase.

“Hmm, fun session?” Nat interjected, her tone filled with mischief and playfulness, the smirk now twisting upwards and you could smell trouble. “Say, Bucky, We’re going for coffee now, would you like to join us?” She throws her arm around your shoulders very casually, her perfectly manicured nails tapping at your arm while you fisted her shirt on her back, trying to get her to stop.

Did you want to spend more time with Bucky? Sure. Did you want it to be with Natasha around playing mind games? Hell to the no. As much as you loved her and knew her glances and smirks seemed harmless – to Bucky at least – you knew her looks are a double edged sword, and you wouldn’t survive getting coffee with both of them. Not when Bucky is a little sweaty and looking very, very good; and Natasha has some sort of unknown plan she’s dying to set in motion, that you don’t want any part of.

To your relief Bucky is quick to chuckle and shake his head, excusing himself.

“That sounds wonderful, but I have some business to attend to.”

“Oh well –” Nat’s dismissal is cheeky, you know her too well –“some other time” There’s another pinch to her side, a warning to stop right now, and you give Bucky a tight-lipped smile. “Some other time” He nods and waves goodbye “Hope to see you Wednesday, Y/N?” he says as he begins walking away, still facing the two of you.

“We’ll see,” you tell him back jokingly, and he rolls his eyes at you in mock annoyance.

“Don’t make me beg, please.” he laughs and shoots you a wink, before finally turning around and being on his way.

Your brain is stuck processing what just happened. Between the one on one time with him, the friendly banter, Natasha and her schemes and that wink. Specially the wink. How come someone looks so hot when winking? Damn this man.

You’re too busy replaying that in your head – and saving it to daydream about during your break at work –  to hear the beginning of Natasha’s teasing. She’s holding you by your shoulders at arms length before you know it.

“I never understood the concept of hot yoga, but I think I do now.” You shrug off her hands and open your car door, getting all your things inside and sitting on the driver’s side. Nat is quick to run around and hop in, eager to continue messing with you, you assume.

“Shut up.”

“No way! Here I was thinking I had sold you on yoga when in reality Mr. Amazing-Ass was the one to rope you in – oh, wait, you’d like that”

“Oh my god!” You bury your face in your hands at her words. She’s unbelievable. Note to self, never tell Natasha about any fantasies, ever again. “That’s not it!” “Psh, you’re going to tell me you’re not considering yoga anymore?” You remain silent. “You’re seriously going to pretend you’re not going to class on Wednesday to see his fine ass?” She clicks her tongue and her eyebrows arch in that ‘you can’t fool me’ way of hers, her nails tapping over the console, annoying the hell out of you – not the nails, but the fact that she knows she’s right.

“Ugh, whatever,” you mutter, setting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking space and into the not so busy roads.

“Ok then. I’ll let Scott know you’re not making it to his dinner on Wednesday”

You open your mouth to protest, to bite back, anything… But who are you kidding? You’re going to that class.

»»————-　　————-««

You were resting in Corpse as the last few minutes of Wednesday’s class went by. It had been three full weeks of coming to Bucky’s intermediate classes and Saturdays at the park and your progress was incredible. Not only were you learning poses by their name, you felt more relaxed, well rested and flexible – back ache be gone!

Natasha tagged along for a second Saturday, the teasing strong as ever, but she’d thankfully skipped last time. You hoped it would stay that way, there was only so much you could take of her cunning tone. Good thing you didn’t have to deal with her sassy grin at the center on Wednesdays and Fridays. No, those were the days you got Bucky all to yourself… And another 9 people.

But for a moment before class, at Bucky’s request, you and him would go over poses and your progress, so yeah, you did get him a little bit to yourself here and there, and it was both joy and sorrow.

Time with Bucky was great, he just kept adding to the “reasons this man is amazing” list you had started in your head, with his jokes, and his kindness, and, his warm, inviting smile. All of those things were also incredibly hard to ignore, thus making you crush on him harder, which lead to you always stuttering in his presence. Seeing him so much meant more chances to embarrass yourself. A tricky feat for sure.

The class finished up, people filtering out of the room and spilling out into the lobby feeling refreshed. Any other day and you would have waited for Bucky a little longer – discreetly though, always discreetly – but today there were… Some distractions.

He had let his hair down again, oh what you’d give to hold on to it, and his beard was a little trimmed, making him appear stronger if that was even possible, and he’d decided to wear a tank top, showcasing his arms; tempting, mouthwatering, lean muscle. Neither of those could be good for your blood pressure, or your way too imaginative mind.

Besides yoga poses and breathing exercises, you’d also learned, these past weeks, how to shift your focus from Bucky’s body to something else, but just like with your Camel Pose, you still had to practice more to get it perfect.

Thunder and rain greeted you when you walked outside and stood at the entrance. People opening umbrellas and skipping to their cars to get back to their daily activities. You could have sworn the weather app on your phone said sunny, so your umbrella was nowhere to be found, no matter how many times you rummaged your bag in search of it. You groan, right as Bucky walks out and whistles, surprised at the rain. He’d put on a zip up jacket – thank heavens – no hoodie in sight, though.

“Jeez, my phone said it’d be sunny,” he stands there, hands on his hips as he takes in the environment. It’s not too violent of a storm, but definitely strong enough to know you’d be drenched before you made it to your car. A small laugh escapes your lips at his comment.

“Yeah, mine too. Liars.”

“Looks like it’ll be a while…” Bucky says, reaching a hand out of the cover under the entrance of the rec center, getting the tips of his metal fingers wet under the rain. He smiles at the sensation and you’re entranced by how ethereal he looks. The juxtaposition of his hard metal edges, and his soft flesh curves; his chiseled jaw, and tender looks; the authoritative husky voice, giving soft commands... Bucky Barnes was a living poem you wanted to devour.

A shake of your head to get rid of your thoughts, and you wrap your arms around yourself, as if trying to keep all of that in your chest, warning it not to go anywhere without your permission.

Bucky looks at you, and then past you, the smile on his face growing, the now familiar crinkles by his eyes making their grand appearance, and he lifts his chin, as if pointing. There’s a café in the plaza across the street, about half a block away.

“You mind getting a little wet?”

More than I am? You think, and are quick to scold yourself; this is not the time for such thoughts, Bucky just asked you to get coffee with him.

Wait, what? Bucky had asked you to join him for a coffee? You blink, drawing a complete blank. You should say something, and not just any thing. You should say yes. Why are you not speaking?

“Uh, it’s fine, sure,” you eventually spit out, praying the silence wasn’t awkward while your brain rebooted to answer his simple invitation. If he notices your nerves, he doesn’t mention it, instead he shakes his hand, ridding it of the rain droplets, and walks up to you.

Like two teenagers, giggling and hopping over puddles, you huddle under your bags – now makeshift rain covers – rushing to cross the street, and you’re very focused on not slipping and cracking your skull with how clumsy you can be.

No one gets injured in the venture, and you and Bucky enter the warmth of the quaint café, shaking droplets off your hair and shirts on the welcome mat. He bellies up to the counter when it’s your time to order, his hands busy putting his hair up in a bun, and then they rest on the marble, all veins and yet so delicate – you fight away memories from times he’s helped you into positions, his warm hands touching your arm to remind you to straighten or bend it. The coffee shop suddenly feels a little warmer.

He bites his lip as he studies the menu, your eyes running over his side profile. From the tip of his brow bone, down the curve of his nose and the dip of his lips, you follow a single raindrop as it disappears down its course over his cheek. When his azure orbs settle on you, meeting yours, you’re not so gently reminded that staring is creepy, and you should snap out of the trance he puts you in.

Orders are placed, you insist on splitting the bill, and Bucky laughs as he agrees and guides you to a booth. For a while now, all your one on one interactions happen with a heavy chant of a mantra: “focus on something other than Bucky”.

This time around, it’s different.

Sitting in front of him, at a café, really sends you for a loop. There’s no space for any distractions, all that’s left is focusing on Bucky, and with good reason, because before you know it he’s talking, asking about your day and getting to know you, and you’re surprised at how well you manage the nerves and bat away images of him in that tank top doing Crane – you’re going to categorise that as a crime. That man doing anything resembling that pose, is an actual felony.

The rain continues to fall outside, whenever you need a breather from looking at Bucky’s pretty face, you turn to see the cars whizz by, the droplets racing down the windows of the café, and then you stare at your hands, wrapped around a warm beverage, mimicking his hands.

You don’t know how long it’s been, but it’s after endless rounds of jokes and questions, two mugs of something warm for each, and a slice of pie, when you dare ask more about him. So far he’s been doing most of the asking, with you throwing the same question back at him or laughing at his stories. More specifically, you wanted to know how it all happened.

“So how did you end up here? Teaching yoga, loving it so much, tricking me into joining...”

He laughs at that last part, putting his hands up after he places his fork down, tongue poking out to collect crumbs of pie, and you’re almost spiraling. “Hey, no trickery.” There’s that soft smile of his again, his body leaning in, elbows anchoring over the table and he looks adorable with his cheek smushed against his palm when he rests it there. “Well, I guess I have to tell you about this guy,” his flesh hand points to the metal appendage. Black shiny hardware and delicate golden lines. “So, when I was around 20, I joined the army.”

Your eyes widen at the thought.

Bucky is so gentle, so soft and chill. He’s like that jock in college that, despite looking strong, you might find him with a butterfly perched on his index finger as he tells you he’s actually an english major who writes poetry before every game. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but regardless of that, Bucky is just… Not the type you could see fighting a war, handling guns and having to witness or cause terrible bloodshed on the field.

“It was… Chilling. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing. A moment of hesitation, and before I knew it… Well, long story short –” he coughs a bit and shifts in his seat – “I got sent back home with less limbs and more confusion than when I left.” He pauses, trying to find the right words, but instead he chuckles and shakes his head, licking his lips. You feel bad for even asking, and reach out an arm to stop him, tell him he doesn’t have to say anything else. His metal hand covers yours on his forearm.

“Bucky…”

“It’s fine, really. I was lucky. A friend of a friend knows the Tony Stark, got a sweet arm and, well… Yoga helped… a lot.” He smiles then, squeezing your hand before letting go. You can sense how the mood shifts, now more relaxed, his shoulders drop back down and his hand isn’t almost clenching into a fist. The smile on his face seems more genuinely happy, and now that you know what not-so-happy Bucky looks like, you can tell with certainty that happiness is your favourite look on him. “It helped me relax, it helped me re-learn my body, this black and gold intruder. I fell in love with it, with how good it could make me feel physically and mentally.”

“That’s why you want people to try it so badly?” he nods.

“I don’t mean to act like I know everything about you, but you looked tense,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “and if anything yoga sets out to do, is remove tension, so I just pushed, and I’m glad!” The two of you laugh at that, you finally let go of his forearm, but it’s not long before Bucky reaches out himself, to grab your hand again. There’s goosebumps raising all over your skin and his smile lets you know it’s all okay.

“I’m glad as well. I really like it, and I can’t lie… It’s helped me a lot.”

He shrugs casually. “Then my job has been done”

“Done? Are you breaking up with me?” You place a hand on your chest, faking offense and his head throws back in laughter at this.

“Never! There’s still a lot more for you to learn. You can’t leave until you can hold King Pigeon for 20 seconds.”

“Gee, I can barely do Table for 10, take it easy, soldier.”

He bursts into laughter again, and now the mood has truly changed.

»»————-　　————-««

You’re glad it keeps raining for another 30 minutes, and that they sell drinks other than coffee at the shop, because you and Bucky are ordering smoothies and chatting away until the sun is almost gone and the puddles on the road are the only proof that there was ever any rain.

Bucky walks you back to your car, still in the middle of a story about his best friend Steve and their college roommate Sam, the first time he saw Bucky with his prosthetic. Your belly aches, maybe because of the butterflies, maybe because of the long time spent in Plank back in class, maybe it hurts of laughter, from your afternoon with Bucky. Either way, it’s a pleasant little burn that you’re taking home with you to dream about, along with images of Bucky biting his lip, and having whipped cream from his coffee, on the tip of his nose.

It’s your turn to bite your lip, when you finally reach your car and it’s time to part ways. After a day like this, it almost hurts to say goodbye, but the day has been too perfect to complain.

“Hey, so… Got any plans Saturday?” He asks, leaning his body over the side of your car. It’s not the best moment to think about how he looks like a model, but the thought runs through your head at the speed of light, too fast to catch it before it makes a ruckus.

“Uh, not really–” you giggle, remembering – “Oh well, duh, yoga. At the park.” Bucky laughs along with you, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head as he stares at his feet. It’s a little dark but you can see a faint tint of red cover his features.

“Well, yeah, I just…” he stumbles over his next words, and you don’t mind one bit. Seeing him a little flustered, when it’s always you scrambling to find words to say, it’s a nice change of pace, though you can’t imagine why he would be flustered. “I was thinking, maybe I can take you up on that offer for coffee after class next Saturday? Like your friend said? I just- uh… You know, j-just us?”

It’s suddenly hard to breathe. None of the techniques come to mind now, and the belly ache is definitely because of the butterflies, because they are wild right now. Out of the blue they have multiplied to thousands and thousands.

“Sure.” You’re 100% sure that your smile reaches from ear to ear and it makes it hard for you to pronounce the short word properly, but Bucky seems to have understood whatever you chirped, and there’s a smile of his, mirroring yours.

“Cool… Uhm, well, see you Friday?”

You nod eagerly. “See you Friday”

You had gotten used to a certain kind of proximity from Bucky. Either because of a pose you weren’t holding right, or had just learned and he was there supervising, or from moments like today, when you somewhat held hands over the table as you sipped your drinks. But none of that compared or could have prepared you for the close proximity that was Bucky leaning in to kiss your cheek. His warmth suddenly almost suffocating, his scent filling your nostrils, the slight stubble tickling you in the most delicious of ways, and the chills running up and down, and up and down your spine.

Soft pink lips, warm and tender, pressing a gentle peck to your cheek, the tip of his nose caressing your face – that’s a memory you want burned into your brain.

It’s over way too quickly, but you’ve registered every detail, and it costs you a lot not to hop on the balls of your feet right there and then. Bucky is waving you goodbye, walking over to his own car, parked on the other end of the lot and you fake cool as you open the door and slide inside.

You wait until the door is closed and allow your brain and your heart a few moments to process what just happened – not just this last bit, the entire afternoon – before you let out a scream, a kick, and a squeal, praying to the world Bucky didn’t see that.

In your thrashing about you almost miss his silhouette punching the air in celebration before he gets in his car as well.

All in all yoga had been a wonderful decision.

Fin.

»»————-　　————-««

Hope you guys liked this! Hnnngg isn’t yogi Bucky the absolute sweetest? You’re welcome to sound off about how you think their coffee date went, I wanna hear your ideas.

I want to hear what you thought of this in general! Please, pretty please, let me know, anything counts! Call me beep me if you wanna reach me. 

Have a good day lovelies!

HERES MY ASK (please don’t be rude)  |||  here’s my Masterlist

xoxo, L.

#yoga 101 #part 2 #bucky barnes x reader #yoga au #fluff #au #bucky barnes #my writing #little l masterlist #fanfic #Yoga

[kimvvantae]

feel better; (1)

➜ being with jimin is hot but cold at the same time. sweet but painful, exciting but sad, intimate but distant - and you don’t know if getting too close is worth the risk.

pairing: daddy!jimin x (f) reader

genre: smut (in future chapters), angst, fluff 

warnings: language, non-explicit mentions of sex

word count: 2k

A/N: this is an introduction of what i plan to do. if you guys like it i might update. also, i know that daddy kink is cringey, but 190105 jimin awakened the sub bitch inside of me and i had to write it. i’m not sorry.

➜ check out masterlist in bio for more of my works!

It's one of those days when you're sure the Universe hates you.

Whenever you think everything is fine, whenever you think you're about to have a nice day for once, whatever creatures that control the world probably look at you and say hm, I don't think so, bitch.

You close your eyes tightly and embrace your own body, heavy blankets covering you. The bedroom is considerably dark, but it's probably already noon and the world outside must be looking beautiful. It's summer, after all - and you're in one of the nicest places in the planet to enjoy summer: Rio de Janeiro.

You still don't know exactly how you ended up here. Jimin simply texted you some nights ago, asking if you wanted to "escape" from work. Of course you said yes, but you didn't expect that Jimin meant "escape" literally and would take you to fucking Brazil. 

You don't know him very well, but one thing you've learned about Park Jimin in these six months is that he's a very surprising man.

When you started with the whole sugar daddy thing, you didn't expect it to turn out to be good - because at the beginning, it really wasn't. You just started it because the idea of earning money easily was nice and you were desperate, so when you found out there was an app to find daddies (yes, there are apps about it), you downloaded it quickly. Let's just give it a try.

You did not meet anyone at first: you just sent nudes and some videos to your "clients", always covering your face and identity to protect yourself, and the experience was humiliating to say the very least. You kept doing it because the "clients" actually did pay for it and, again, you needed the money. Many of them said they'd pay more if you met them in person. You always refused. If just sending them some nudes made you feel that bad, then meeting in person or maybe having sex with them would be terrible.

That is… until you met Jimin.

You still don't know why the fuck he was using that app. Let's be honest, Park Jimin is not the type of man that needs to pay for sex. He sent you a message, though, and for some time you just sent him nudes as usual. Jimin was doing it anonymously - as most of the "clients" do - so you had no idea he was young. That is, until he started to ask for your private number. You got worried at first; he wasn't the first one to ask this, and you'd always refuse any kind of personal contact with the "clients". You're not stupid. You know that most of those old men are searching for a dumb girl or boy to use them in ugly ways. You considered blocking him…

Until you woke up to one thousand dollars in your bank account.

No one has ever paid that much.

All that because he wanted your private number.

Well, you gave him. If anything became strange, you could just block him and get rid of this number, right?

However, things took an unexpected route when the first thing Jimin sent was a video of himself masturbating for you.

You couldn't believe it. It could be a fake video, right? Are you telling me this beautiful man was on an app that only old men use? It took hours for you to reply - both because of your suspicion, your shock, and the fact that the video was mesmerizing. 

The man on the video was ridiculously hot. He was biting his bottom lip (such plump lips!) and moaning in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. And his cock - wow. Just wow.

You got wet and texted him back.

It was the first time someone made you come with texts.

You used to make fun of your friends when they talked about sexting, but sexting with this man was something out of this world. He was good with words and, before you noticed, you were sending more and more videos and nudes of yourself - and he'd constantly send videos of himself, too, what made you come to the conclusion that it wasn't fake. You've reached a point where you were doing it because of how hot it was, and not because of the money.

But then, Jimin thought that just sexting wasn't enough and asked to meet you in real life.

You still hesitated. You knew nothing about him. He could be a rapist, a psycho, a murderer. Jimin didn't force you into meeting him, though, what was unexpectedly nice of him (sugar daddies usually are not that nice), but he would ask from time to time if you'd like to meet.

A certain day, curiosity took the best of you and you said yes - as long as you'd meet in a public place.

Jimin choose a mall downtown.

It was a shocking moment.

One thing was seeing photos or videos of him. Another thing was seeing him in person.

His beautiful, plump lips. His cat-like eyes. Pitch black hair, flawless skin. He's not that tall, but his body proportions are balanced and perfect. The way he carries himself with confidence and pride, the way he looks at people with his piercing gaze…

When his eyes landed on you, you felt like being shot.

You promised yourself you wouldn't have sex with him, but ended up fucking the whole night.

The. Whole. Night.

Jimin was seductive. He was strong and flexible and had great stamina. Rough but  slow, deep and intoxicating, breath-takingly intense. He wasn't focusing only on his pleasure but on yours, too - and he didn't stop until he saw you begging desperately for release, dripping wet, toes curling, a moaning mess.

Jimin is that good.

After that night, you started fucking constantly. He started paying you higher, too - you soon found out Jimin is actually very rich and he doesn't mind buying you ridiculously expensive stuff. He even bought you a car. You're being so well paid that it's getting hard to hide your "secret life"; people are starting to notice you don't seem to struggle that much financially, which is strange, considering you work as a secretary with an average salary and has a university loan to pay (well, had; Jimin paid it for you).

You two are not close in the slightest, though. You don't know anything about Jimin's life other than the fact that he's super rich, his family owns Korea considering the amount of business they have in the country, and that he fucks good. Your relationship is strictly sexual. You don't ask about his life, he doesn't ask about yours. Jimin also made clear that he doesn't mind if you have a boyfriend or not and that you can end your "business" with him whenever you want. That's what surprises you: he seems to be a nice guy. Jimin doesn't force you to do anything, he constantly asks if you're liking it or not when you're fucking. His sex might be rough, but his actions and words are not. He never screamed at you, never spanked too strongly, never roped you too tightly, never offended you. Jimin doesn't think he can do whatever he wants with you just because he's paying for it.

Does it make you feel less bad? No. You know that what you're doing is prostitution. Sure, Jimin is the only person you have sex with, but it doesn't change the fact that you're being paid. You still need the money anyways - and you won't finish it all until you get what you need.

Jimin being so nice and fucking so good makes you consider staying a little longer sometimes.

He is so nice that he brought you to Rio with him after all. You know he's a busy man, having some free days to travel was probably hard for him. You should be rewarding him. You wanted to make him feel good, to enjoy the sun and the sea, to wear that pretty bikini he bought for you. Shit, you two should be fucking out there in the beach.

But here you are. Locked in the bedroom under the covers.

Sick.

Fever, headache, vomiting everything you eat. The doctor said it's a virus or something. You were already feeling bad even before you got in the plane, and now you feel bad for not telling him, because you could've taken some medicine and you'd be feeling better now. 

Instead of a sexy bikini, you're wearing one of your ugly (but comfy) pajamas, far from the nightgowns Jimin likes. Your hair is a mess, you're not wearing any makeup. What if Jimin gets disappointed with you bare face? Everything about this trip is wrong. 

When you hear Jimin's steps and the door opening, you close your eyes again.

He sits down by your side and put his hand on your forehead.

"How are you feeling?" He asks softly. You open your eyes and see the stunning man in front of you: he's wearing simple black shorts and a white cotton shirt. It's amazing how he can look good in such a simple outfit.

"Like crap," you say, raspy voice, and Jimin giggles. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing, baby? No one gets sick on purpose." It's one of the rare moments when Jimin is not talking with any type of sexual connotation, which is surprising. You expected him to be mad or disappointed, but he looks… concerned? The way his eyebrows are furrowed and he analyzes your face look like concern, at least. "I think the medicine is working. If you feel worse, I'll call the doctor again, okay?"

You nod weakly while Jimin caresses your hair. "I wish things were different."

"It's alright. This house is mine, we can come back whenever we want." You don't know why you still get shocked when Jimin says stuff like I own a mansion in a private beach so naturally, as if it's not a big deal. "We can visit Copacabana next time… and the Christ statue, if you want to, but that place is always too crowded. There is a city near here called Paraty, I think you'd love it, too…"

You lay there in silence as Jimin speaks. Okay, that is unexpected. You thought he just wanted to fuck in a cool beach, you didn't expect Jimin wanted to take you to touristic places. It almost felt like…

A couple?

You brush this idea off as soon as it crosses your mind. You know Jimin doesn't feel anything but sexual attraction for you - and it's the other way around. You're not stupid enough to fall for him. This is a man that pays to have you. He surely has some obsessive issues. You think that he wouldn't be a nice boyfriend at all, your relationship just works because you're as detached as him.

The idea of being in an actual relationship with him is… well…

"Rest now and you'll feel better soon." He says reassuringly, a small smile on his lips. Again, you search for any hint of annoyance on his expression - nothing.

The discomfort eases a little.

That is, until you see Jimin getting under the covers with you.

"What are you doing?!" You ask, surprised. Jimin's not going to initiate anything sexual, right? He's seeing you're sick!

"I'm not a doctor, but… one thing I know is that cuddling helps a lot in the healing process."

You feel Jimin's arms wrapping around your waist, your back touching his chest. He snuggles closer to you in a warm, cozy hug.

Your heart races. 

"Sleep now, baby." He whispers on your ear and kisses your neck tenderly. "Don't feel bad. I'm not mad at you."

As unexpected (and weird) as it is, you smile softly. It's been a long time since you've been so close to someone like this - no second intentions involved. It feels good. Although you're very aware of what your thing with Jimin is and you agreed with it in the first place, not being treated like a sexual toy feels good.

It's the first time you touch each other like this.

It feels more intimate than any sex you've ever had.

"And…" Jimin whispers in a raspy, low voice. "We'll have enough time later for you to pay for what we lost here, baby."

This makes you shiver. You love it when Jimin talks like that.

Your stomach twirls in excitement just imagining what Jimin will do to you in the future.

#yo bitch is back with some writinggg #i wrote it all in like 2 hours #and i had this idea when i was dying sick in my bed with no one to cuddle me :( #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin scenario #jimin scenarios #jimin imagine #jimin imagines #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin fluff #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #bangtan au #bangtan scenarios #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan fanfic #bangtan imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bangtan smut #bangtan x reader

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

(If it hasn't already been asked) How about a scenario with Yandere!Johnny and his S/O using/based on some lyrics from Tusk?

Hopefully you don’t mind it a bit modern au-ish thing for it, cause you know phones. I’m gonna go with some kind of roommate thing.

Also with this piece, I lost some of it from my page refreshing…so to save some of my sanity I just cut it off where I had it, I really just didn’t want to up and delete this. I worked on it for a few hours straight. 

  Johnny’s index finger gently rubs circles on the table he was sitting at. All while watching you scrub some dishes out you had provided for a person you had over for lunch. He could tell you had a good time with them from the small smile that still graced your lips. It was subtle but he learned quickly it was something you didn’t realize you did. Which made you even cuter in his eyes.

  The blond wondered if the person who you invited over bothered to notice that. Maybe, or maybe not…but it made such a difference to him.

 “Y/n?” He finally managed to mumble out.

“Yes?” You asked not looking away from the dishes you were working on washing the suds off of.

“How was it?”

Your eyes looked over to him for a moment before returning them to the sink “Oh, hanging out with them? It was great” You answered. ““They were really funny…even if some of the jokes were a little corny”

Shaking your head “but seriously they kept the conversation going really well, I just hope I didn’t bore them half to death”

You went onto explain about the few things this person and you had in common. Though every word was a disinterested muddle of words, he didn’t really care. All this caused was jealousy burning in his chest. The way you described their eyes, and how they’d react to whatever you said, it made him upset. The way you were talking about them, it seemed like it would lead to another date.

 He had to stand up and calm himself down, he darted over to you and came behind your back. The blond’s head coming down onto your neck. He felt you jump at his sudden presence behind you.

“Whoa, a little close there Johnny” You chuckled awkwardly.

“Sorry, I just wanted to see how much more you had to go” He responded dully “So I can help you if you need it”

“Well I guess you can help rinse and dry what I have left” you shrug while gesturing him to stand next to you.

He wasn’t sure how much he could take of him, even if it was just you talking about them.

Why don’t you ask him if he’s going to stay?

  The blond watched you leave out the door for a few hours the following few days. It was usually a little after when you got back home. Though there was one evening you didn’t get back until midnight.

“Where were you?” He asked “You kind of came home late”

You yawn tiredly while throwing your purse aside on the coffee table in the living room. “Oh I was watching a movie with f/n, I fell asleep halfway through..and I lost track of time” You chuckled sleepily.

A honk outside made you jump slightly as you comment you probably forgot something in their car. The entire time Johnny watched coldly keeping his blue eyes on the person he could see in the driver’s seat. The longer you took the more he wanted to come bring you back in himself.

 He decided against it for now, and watched in disgruntled silence as he heard you ask them something. However they ended up declining with their hand visibly indicating it. Eventually you gave a wave to them before finally walking back into the front door.

  “You know you haven’t been at home much” Johnny commented softly while shutting the door behind you both.

 “Don’t you have Gyro to hang around with?” You asked “You’re pretty good friends with him”

“I do but it’s not the same as being around you” The blond retorted

You stared at him a bit wide eyed for a moment trying to process the meaning of what he meant by that. A tired sigh escaped your lips as you excused it as some sleep deprivation. In reality though you just didn’t want to deal with this tonight.

 Walking up to him you simply cupped the Joestar’s cheek gently while firmly staring at him. “Goodnight, Johnny”

He felt exhilaration as your soft hands eventually left his cheeks. He yearned for you to do it more often. This was just one of the things he was wanting, but it seemed you didn’t see what he saw in the same way.

Why don’t you ask him if he’s going away?

Eventually Johnny took to following you to wherever your presume friend lived. Every little detail that came out of his or your mouth. Even when he was with Gyro he couldn’t help but think about you and them. He wondered if you seeing them so often would ever pass.

  ““Hey, Johnny….Johnny…are you listening?”

He shook his head to see the green eyed blond in front of him looking with some impatience.

“Sorry…” Johnny sighed

“What’s gotten into you huh? You’ve been staring at nothing for the past fifteen minutes”

The blue eyed male looked at him with slight disinterest. “Maybe we can do this some other time”

 Gyro huffed with annoyance as his short blond haired friend walked off.

  Something was up with that blond but no one could get anything out of him. At least none of his peers could it seemed. But they all could just see it in his eyes there had been an underlying problem.

Johnny slowly became more clingy to you, trying to hold your hand while the both of you sat on the couch. He also started insisting going places he didn’t usually go with you. It seriously squicked you out at how affectionate he was being lately. Especially on the nights you came back late, he’d be waiting right there in the living room for you.

   There were times you tried to sneak in another way to try to avoid him but he’d still catch you.

Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?

“You don’t need to sneak in our own home” He mumbled while holding you tightly.

 “I just didn’t want to wake you up just in case you were trying to sleep” you respond with uncertainty.

His arms continue to snake across your waist, further freaking you out than the extremely close proximity you were in with each other.

 “I know that’s not the truth….you’re trying to avoid me” he softly cut in

“I already have to deal with you not being here when I get home…now you do this…” His lips softly drag across your neck to under your chin.

  Heart pumping rapidly you use one of your hands to force back the short haired blond’s face. “J-Johnny cut that out”

   His eyes gaze straight into yours without a single care in the world. Your legs suddenly feel like jelly as you collapse into his chest. With a little bit of enthralled enthusiasm he catches you without fail.

   ““I know you’ve been dating awhile…you and him…” he whispered in your ear

“I never did like it when I saw him hold you so close, I just wanted to tear him away from you so bad”

 After a brief pause of hugging you he continues on  ““But I can take care of it no problem, I know him just about as well as you do y/n”

“W-wait what do you think you’re trying to pull?” You asked hesitantly 

  “I won’t be able to love you with him smothering you so much, you should be softly humming my name…I’d honestly love to hear it, unlike when you do so with theirs”

   Shaking your head violently you insisted he couldn’t just barge in and do whatever he saw fit. 

   ““I kind of figured you wouldn’t understand…” he admitted in response

“I’m still going to do it though….but you can stay here out of the way, and after all is set and done…”

“I can keep you so close…that I’ll never let you go”

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