#ignore the fact that i didn’t draw his hands for a reason also <3 (hand horrible)

[rosemary-bells]

#lord god in heaven is the photo quality supposed to be that bad in preview #coughs anyway!!! #this is the last time i draw a background ever <3 #that was the longest four hours of my life bcs i don’t do backgrounds and it was awful <3 #pollen #hope y’all enjoy my offering of babygirl #husky and his white cat shizun #erha #2ha #ranwan #(implied) #who else would be holding his hand. god? #ignore the fact that i didn’t draw his hands for a reason also <3 (hand horrible) #i drew this while being driven around and ended up w severe carsickness. who knew thag someone w carsickness would feel worse drawing in a c #i tried drawing him w reference this time bcs he deserves the effort. i’ll do it for you #also it took me literally ages to realize he had a ponytail and not the half up/half down hairstyle #cried for an hour when i found that out <3 #anywayyyy! enjoy #i used a color filter bcs i wanted the dramatics and forgor that it doesn’t look good w/o extra effects so just think of it as a stylistic d #decision and not a mistake. simply close ur eyes

[vodika-vibes]

Can you write a Crosshair x reader and him with his shaky hands like we saw in season 3 and maybe reader comforting him...

For The Love Of A Bounty Hunter

Summary: Crosshair goes missing while dealing with your family. You have opinions about it.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Bounty Hunter Reader

Word Count: 1919

Warnings: Mentions of torture

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I decided to make this story a sequel to one of my Event Fics, I'll add the link so people can find it easily. Also, there are no spoilers here, because I haven't watched TBB at all. ^-^

For The Love Of A Sniper - Part 1 of this Mini Series

You stare, blankly, at the calendar on the datapad in front of you as you draw another red X over another day.

Three weeks.

It’s been three weeks since Crosshair went to deal with the PI who was looking into you on behalf of your family. Three weeks since he vanished.

You carefully set the datapad down on the table and release a shaky breath. Carefully shoving the burning rage down, for now.

Crosshair would sooner cut his own hands off than betray you. You know this. You know him. He would never tell your parents where you are. And, the fact that they haven’t shown up at your ship, is proof enough that Crosshair didn’t tell them anything.

The bigger question is, is Crosshair still alive.

Stars, you hope so. You’re not sure the galaxy will survive your rage if he isn’t. You’re not sure you’ll survive your rage if he isn’t.

You jerked out of your thoughts when your holo chimes. 

For a moment you consider ignoring it, you’re not in the mood for chatting. But, in the end, you cross the room and hit the button to answer the holo, “I’m not accepting any jobs at the moment.” You say bluntly.

“It is me.” Tech’s image flickers to life above the holo, “I have the information you asked for.”

You blink, “Oh. Sorry.”

“No harm done, I know that you are stressed.” He looks down at his datapad, “I am sending you the information I have.”

You pick your datapad back up as it chimes with the information he sent you. “Are you sure this is accurate?” You ask, as you see the information, “Last I heard the people who took him are wealthy.”

Tech sniffs, “Very sure. According to what I have found, they used to be wealthy. But then spent most of their fortune looking for their missing child.” He pauses, “That would be you, I am guessing.”

“Right in one, Tech.” You reply with a grimace.

��I am sure you had your reasons.” Tech says after a moment, “If Crosshair is anywhere, it is there.”

You scan the image that Tech sent you. Figures, it would be your childhood house. Not home. Never home. “Thanks Tech.”

“You are welcome.” He pauses, “Are you quite sure that you do not require aid? We can be there in a couple of days.”

“I have it.”

“They are your family.”

“Not all families are created equal, Tech. And this,” You hold up the datapad, "has been a long time coming.”

Tech sighs, “Comm when you have him back. And if you should think that you need our help-”

“I’ll be sure to let you know. Thanks for the intel, Tech. I mean it.”

“You do not have to thank me. Crosshair is my twin brother. I want him safe just as much as you do.”

“Even so. I know you’re not my biggest fan.”

Tech is quiet for a moment, “I will concede that, perhaps, I was too quick to judge.”

“Yeah, well…so was I. Water under the bridge.”

Tech smiles at you, a small smile, but a smile all the same, “I think I am beginning to see what Crosshair sees in you. Happy hunting.”

You flash a small smirk, “Yeah. Right back at you.” And then you kill the holo. You look back at the datapad, and swipe through the information.

“Hold on, Cross. I’ll be there soon.” You whisper to the empty ship.

“It’s a simple thing,” Crosshair rolls his eyes at the massive Devaronian looming over him, “All you have to do is tell us where the little mistress is.”

“I told you the truth weeks ago,” He drawls, “I can’t help you.” He grunts in pain as a large fist slams into his stomach, “Kriff-”

“Mistress,” The guard says with a frown, “I’m beginning to think that he’s telling the truth.”

‘Mistress’ is a slender woman with white blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Though slender isn’t really the right word. Crosshair would personally call her skeletal, but the first time he asked how they managed to make a corpse walk and talk, he was electrocuted, so he’s learned to hold his tongue.

“He has to know,” The woman’s voice is cold. “Why else would he have gone to the PI?”

“Because you’re offering a hell of a lot of credits, lady.” Crosshair lies.

“You do not speak to the Mistress,” The guard snaps, taking a menacing step towards Crosshair.

“No. Leave him. I tire of this.” The woman says, before she turns to the side, “What do you think, darling.”

‘Darling’ is her husband. Just as thin and skeletal as his white, though his hair is more of a golden blonde than the silvery blonde of his wife. If Crosshair had to guess, one of them bleaches their hair, though which one isn’t something he cares about.

He’s also crueler than his wife. 

Crosshair will likely have scars from the stun batons that ‘Darling’ used against him. If he hates ‘Mistress’, then Crosshair absolutely despises ‘Darling’. How either of these people could parent someone like his Princess is beyond him. Maybe she’s adopted.

He glances to the side when the door to the dungeons slams open and a trembling twi’lek hurries his, “Master! Mistress!” He gasps, “The Little Mistress is here.”

The room falls silent, “Are you quite sure?” The Mistress asks. 

“Yes ma’am,” The Twi’lek bobs into a bow, “She consented to a DNA scan. It’s her. Would you like me to bring her down?”

“No, we’ll-”

The door slams open again, “No need. I thought I’d come and say hello.”

Crosshair has always thought that his Princess is stunning, but seeing her standing in the doorway, clad in tight leather, and with her short hair falling into her eyes…she looks like an avenging angel and he’s never been more attracted to her in his life.

Impressive, since he can hardly keep his hands to himself as it is.

“Sweetheart!” The Mistress takes half a step towards her, “Your hair…your face! Why are you so fat?”

Princess closes her eyes for a moment, and then she turns and blatantly ignores everyone in the room, “Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, and for a moment, Crosshair can pretend that they’re on the ship and it’s just them. 

He slides his arms through the bars of the cell, and holds out his trembling hands, “Better, since you’re here.”

Her sharp eyes linger on his trembling hands, on the burn marks on his arms, chest, and stomach. Her gaze lingers on the bruises covering his face and his torso.

And her eyes go cold.

“Sweetling, why are you talking to that-” His Princess’ father says as he takes a step towards her, reaching out to touch her. 

There’s a flash of silver, only noticed because he was looking for it, and then there’s screaming as ‘Darling’ falls back, clutching his blood soaked arm. His Princess carefully uses a cloth to wipe the blood off the blade. 

“You took Crosshair.” Her voice is flat, emotionless. 

She’s clearly pissed.

“You know,” She continues, some emotion returning to her voice, and she directs her comment towards him, “I really only considered two options when coming here.”

“Oh yeah?” Cross asks as he leans against the bars.

“Hm. Option 1, they took you and killed you.” She continues lightly, “And if that was the case I was going to kill them all, burn this place to the ground, and then throw myself at the Empire until they managed to kill me.”

“Dramatic.”

She shrugs a single shoulder, “Option 2, is that they took you and were using you as bait to make me come here. In this scenario, you were uninjured, just annoyed, and I just threatened great bodily harm and we carried on our way.”

She casts her gaze over him again, “Somehow,” She continues, “The idea that they might torture you never crossed my mind.”

“They are still your family, Princess. I’m not gonna blame you for not wanting to believe the worst of them.” Crosshair says lazily.

She turns to the cell door and effortlessly picks the lock and swings the door open, “Well, you’re the injured party, Cross. What do you want?”

“You have a blaster?”

She smiles and wordlessly passes it to him.

Even with nerve damage, and trembling hands, he’s still the best. 

Three shots. Three blaster rounds. 

Three dead bodies. 

His Princess takes the blaster back and slides it in her holster, before she helps him with a shirt she brought him, “Are you ready to go?” She asks.

“More than ready.” He leans against her, needing her support to make it back to the ship, “Let’s get out of here.”

A week later, you step into the bedroom on your ship, your gaze lingering on Crosshair. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, glaring at his shaking hands. Nerve damage takes weeks to heal, even with bacta.

His hands will be shaking for a while.

Maybe you’ll take Tech up on that offer for a 3 month long vacation on Pabu.

But first-

You enter the room and kneel in front of him, taking both of his hands in yours and pressing light kisses against the palms of his hands. “Do they hurt?” You ask.

“It’s mostly just an ache,” He admits, bitterly, “I’m not going to be able to-”

“Shh,” You release one of his hands and reach up to cup his cheek, “Crosshair, your only responsibility right now is to heal.”

He scowls at you, though you know he’s more annoyed at the situation than at you. “I feel useless.”

“Nonsense. You could never be useless.”

“You’re biased.”

“Mm, perhaps. A little.” You stand and settle on the bed next to him, “But I’m also honest. You will heal. You will get back to 100%. It just takes time.”

He scoffs.

“Don’t be like that.” You say as you lay your head on his shoulder, “After that Wookie broke my leg in three places, you didn’t accuse me of being a burden or of being useless, even though I felt like I was.”

Crosshair shakes his head, and then leans his head against yours, “You gonna use my words against me?”

“If I have to.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I suppose you did pay for the best doctors to see me.” 

“Yes, I did.” You reply smugly.

“Alright.” He turns to look at you properly, “I’ll be patient.”

“You’re a sniper, patience is your thing.” You tease him, throwing his words back at him.

His arms, strong and steady, hook around you and he pulls you onto his lap, “Yeah, yeah.” Crosshair leans in and kisses you hungrily, nipping at your lower lip roughly enough that you squeak, “So. You gonna tell me what you and Tech have been talking about?”

“...he’s invited us to come to Pabu until you finish recovery. I’m thinking that agreeing might be a good idea.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “If you think it’s a good idea, Princess, then I won’t argue. But I refuse to stay with my siblings.”

“Of course not, we’ll be staying here or in an inn.” You brush your fingers across his cheek, “I’ll go let him know.”

Crosshair tightens his grip around you, “You can tell him later. I want you for myself right now.”

You beam at him, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

#star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 15

We are nearing the end, my lovelies. I have about one or two more parts to go (depending how far part 16 takes me) and then we’re done. Which makes me so sad. I love this story. It made me so happy. I don’t even know what sparked the idea.

I named it after a muse for three reasons. Steve becomes Eddie’s muse. Eddie becomes Steve’s muse. And my muse caught this story and refused to let go until I completed it.

Normally I have the next part completed before I put up a part (if I post part 8, I’ll have part 9 already done type thing), but I got a really bad migraine last night and didn’t finish part 16. I hope I’ll get it done today, but I’m not sure. So part 16 might not go up until late tomorrow or early Monday.

Also and this is important, lovelies: THE TAG LIST HAS OFFICIALLY REACHED MY LIMIT OF 50. ALL FUTURE REQUESTS FOR TAGS WILL BE IGNORED. Thank you!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14

*

Steve was working with Crystal who was by far the chillest dude he had ever worked with. Bar none. Steve was pretty damn sure that he was stoned most of the time.

But since it didn’t affect his work, Diamond looked the other way.

Crystal and Steve got into a rhythm that got them a lot of attention. Steve’s showy style of bartending mixed with Crystal’s flare created quite the show.

After a particularly complex set of maneuvers, Diamond came over to Steve and patted him on the shoulder.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Diamond asked, his voice rough with emotion. “You really are the heart of this team. You get along with everyone, you know how to put on a show, and you’re a great worker. I’d even triple your rate, man.”

Steve blushed. “As tempting as that sounds with that being more than I would make as a teacher...it’s what I want to do. I want to be that influence for good in teenagers that might not get that from anywhere else.”

Diamond gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re a good man, Garnet. Don’t let anybody change that.”

Steve grinned. “Thanks, Boss.” He ducked his head bashfully, scratching his cheek. “Besides it would be a disservice to my host teacher. He’s really put himself out on a limb for me.”

“You’re going to be a teacher, bro?” Crystal asked. “That’s pretty freaking amazing.”

“Art teacher,” Steve clarified.

“You draw, too?” Crystal murmured. “You’re going to do awesome!”

Steve just shook his head and got back to helping the next customer in line.

*

Steve and Eddie walked into class together bantering back and forth when Joyce came running to them both. She hugged them tight, one arm around each of them.

“I’m so glad you guys are safe!” she cried.

They hugged her back.

“I’m fine,” Eddie murmured. “Steve had my back.”

She pulled away and glared at Steve. “Jim said that you were trying to take on five boys with just your nail bat.”

Eddie mouthed ‘Jim?’

Steve mouthed back ‘Hopper.’

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.

“I was just stalling for time until Hop showed up with reinforcements,” he promised Joyce.

“I really wish you wouldn’t get into fights like that,” she admonished gently. “You know how much it scares Jim.”

Steve shook his head, holding up his hands placatingly. “I wasn’t fighting, honest. I was just stalling for time like I said. I tapped him twice on the back of his heavy letterman jacket as a warning and nothing else.”

Joyce’s face softened. “If you’re sure?”

“I can attest to the fact that Steve just danced around the guy and never engaged directly,” Eddie said, putting himself a little forward to place himself between Joyce and Steve.

She looked back and forth between them and sighed. “I’m glad everything turned out well then.”

As Steve and Eddie walked to take their places, Eddie said, “You are giving me the complete rundown of everything I did not understand in that conversation over coffee and you’re paying.”

Steve laughed. “Fair enough!”

*

“That was by far the most confusing conversation I have ever been in,” Eddie said after taking a sip of his black coffee. “And that includes the time my guidance counselor told me that after three times I was actually graduating from high school.”

Steve chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

Eddie laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, using his elbows to prop him up. “Why does Joyce Byers know the chief of police well enough to call him by what I am assuming his given name?” He batted his eyelashes at Steve.

Steve raised an eyebrow and took a long sip of his iced coffee. “Because they’ve been dating for years?” He gave a little half shrug.

Eddie’s eyes widened. “How the hell did I not know that?”

Steve pursed his lips and then licked them slowly. “They don’t like people to know usually. The only reason I know is because Hop was the FBI liaison after my attack and Joyce was acting as my parental advocate until I turned eighteen.”

“Huh.”

“Anything else you want to know?” Steve asked.

“You lied to me pretty boy,” Eddie began. “You said you couldn’t beat Nick if he chose to start a fight.”

Steve laughed. “I said a fist fight. I can’t even begin to tell you how many of those I’ve lost.”  

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “So then why did both Joyce and Hopper admonish you like you’d done this kind of shit before?”

Steve ducked his head to hide the flushing of his cheeks. “I’m not sure how much you remember about what I was saying to Jason and his gang. You were pretty terrified out of your mind.”

“Which part are we talking about?” Eddie asked. “You goading Jason for not being able to swing properly or before that?”

Steve laughed again. “Before that, when Robin threw me the bat?”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth slowly. “Something about it being an anti-homophobe bat?”

“That’s the one,” Steve said with a grin. “I take it to Pride festivals and LGBTQ+ events to ward off assholes like Jason and his gang. Sometimes it takes more than just swinging it around to get them to back the fuck off.”

Eddie put his hands flat on the table. “How the hell have you not been arrested?!” He leaned forward into Steve’s space.

Steve pushed him playfully. “My notoriety and my relationship with Chief Hopper, if I’m honest. It’s the only time that’s ever worked out in my favor. But now I’ve got a reputation for taking on homophobes.”

“That is objectively the most hilarious thing I’ve heard,” Eddie said, sitting back down.

Steve grinned. “Yeah, I like to think of it as karma if I’m honest.”

“Steve Harrington, the avatar of vengeance, is that it?” Eddie asked, in all seriousness.

“I never intended to be,” Steve defended. “It just worked out that way.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie winked at him.

Steve looked down at the table and rubbed a finger along the surface. “Since we’re answering questions. Can you answer one for me?”

Eddie’s expression became guarded. “You want to know why Jason Carver was playing ‘hunt the freak’?”

Steve nodded. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Eddie reached across the table and lifted Steve’s chin. “It’s okay. I want to tell you. It’s just not my story to tell.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Chrissy.” It wasn’t even a question.

Eddie nodded. “He seems to labeling under the delusion that I turned her gay.”

Steve started laughing and couldn’t stop. Eddie tried to not join in, but one side-eyed look at him and he was busting up, too.

“God are all straights this stupid?” Steve asked when he was able to catch his breath.

Eddie grinned. “No, just too many of them.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said returning the grin.

*

Eddie noticed the dwindling number of students the closer they got to the last day of class. Soon it was down to Steve and a couple other students.

“Hey, Joyce,” he said, bounding up to her after class. He was waiting for Steve to finish cleaning up.

“Hey, Eddie!” she greeted cheerfully. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great,” he replied and then pursed his lips. “So I was wondering where all the other students have gone?”

Joyce frowned for a minute. “Oh! I guess I forgot to tell you. When the students finish their final they don’t have to keep coming to class.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Oh. So Steve hasn’t finished his final yet?”

Joyce giggled but quickly covered her mouth to stifle it. Eddie glared at her.

“No, sweetheart,” she said fighting to keep her smile in check. “He turned it last week.”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He stays because he wants to spend time with you.”

He turned to where Steve was cleaning his paint brushes and then back to her. “So what is he working on if not his final?”

She gave him a half shrug. “I would assume a personal project.”

Eddie hummed. “You don’t find it weird that he’s still painting me nude?”

“Why? Do you?” Joyce asked with a raised eyebrow.

He ducked his head and blushed. “I mean, it’s flattering. But at the same time...I don’t know. I feel seen I guess.”

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I can see that both of you are so smitten with each other, I don’t understand why you two aren’t together.”

Just then Steve came up and put his hand on Eddie’s lower back. “Hey, Eds. I’m done. You about ready to go?”

Eddie nodded and let him lead him away from Joyce as they both waved goodbye.

Once they were out on the pavement, Eddie asked. “So Joyce was telling me that you already finished your final.”

Steve grinned. “Yep! It’s going into the art show they have for all the graduating art students. You should totally come.”

“Does that mean that people are going to be staring at my naked ass all day?” Eddie teased.

Steve laughed. “Well there will be a 18+ area that little kiddies aren’t allowed to go into. But, yeah those that want to will be able to see you in all your naked glory.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, all right. I’ll be there. If only to see Karens clutching at their pearls at the mere thought of nudity near their precious children.”

Steve laughed again. “I can’t wait for you to see my painting.”

“I’m excited too,” Eddie agreed. “But you know I’ve got to ask...”

“Why I haven’t just not come to class like everyone else?” he asked and Eddie nodded. “I know it might come off a little creepy but I just liked spending time with you. And I know that you’re working hard on your music and trying to get a record deal and technically I could just meet you after class and go for coffee, but I just–”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s arms and said firmly. “Steve.”

Steve finally took a breath.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. “You were starting to spiral again. You need to take a breath, okay.”

Steve nodded and then ducked his head between his hunched shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to think I was being all creepy and gross about wanting to continue to paint you after my turned in my assignment.”

Eddie frowned, wondering where this was coming from. And then it hit him. The very first thing he had thrown at Steve that first day of class was that he had only taken it because he was there to leer at the model.

He gently cupped Steve’s cheek. “Oh, Stevie. I know you’re not like that. I’m flattered, okay?”

Steve leaned into Eddie’s touch. “Okay,” he breathed.

“I was only curious, no judgment.” Eddie pulled him in for a hug and Steve just melted into his embrace. “Come on, let’s go get that coffee, huh?”

Steve nodded and reluctantly let go. Only to be pleasantly surprised when Eddie slung his arm around his shoulder.

And if Steve leaned into it, that was no one’s business but his. And maybe Eddie’s, too.

Part 16  Part 17  Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #art school au #gay steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #ladykailtiha writes

[strangernstranger]

All Too Much

Eddie Munson x Autistic Fem Reader (requested)

Summary: Eddie had never given you reason to feel ashamed of who you were but old ideologies die hard. After becoming overwhelmed at a party, Eddie comforts reader and helps her calm down again. (Angst and fluff. As a neurodivergent person who also works with children on the autism spectrum, writing this felt very rewarding<3 Also, I didn’t use the terms autistic/autism because given the time period and the fact reader is fem, she likely would’ve never received a diagnosis. I hope that’s okay!)

———

You always knew you were different. Always felt as if everyone else received a briefing on daily life and relationships that somehow you missed out on. You struggled to relate to others. Or rather others struggled to relate with you. For years, things went unnoticed. You were viewed as a precocious child, curious and excitable. But as you got older, your nature was seen less as “quirky” and more so difficult, or downright annoying. Even parents and teachers saw your behavior as uncooperative and obstructive. You were weird. At least that’s what your peers decided. You were constantly ridiculed and looked down upon. In a sea of people who all seemed to get it, you were lost. That is, until you met Eddie.

The day he first approached you, you were prepared to be peppered with insults. Eddie seemed to have a disdain for most people at your school. Why would you be any different? You avoided eye contact and pushed your food around your tray as he sat down at your lunch table. He stared at you momentarily, watching as you ignored him til finally he broke the silence.

“Y’know everyone here says you’re a weirdo.” A strong opener to a conversation yet somehow not surprising. You continued to prod at the questionable meat served to you, shutting out the comment and Eddie completely. “Not gonna say anything?” He perched his head in his hands. You allowed the question to become lost in the endless chatter from neighboring tables. “I’ve been watching you.” The words hit you like a gunshot. You heart finally caught up with the situation, rising in rate. Had he really? You tried so hard not to draw attention but somehow found yourself on Eddie Munson’s radar. You peered up at the metal head through your lashes. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “While I wouldn’t necessarily call you weird…you are different.” Your face was stone and words nonexistent. “I like that.” He smiled before extending his hand to you. “Eddie Munson. Resident freak and fellow weirdo.”

———

Eddie had collected a small band of misfits. Other Hawkins students who just didn’t meet the social norm. Some through interest, others through actions. But regardless, Eddie made them feel understood or at the very least, seen. He saw you for exactly who you were. Even with all your hang ups, he never once cast judgement. In fact, he found your behavior endearing. He loved when you’d get excitable while explaining your interests or something you were passionate about. He loved the twinkle in your eye and the way your voice sped up as you talked. But more than anything, he loved showing you new music. You’d sit in the passenger seat, while Eddie slid a cassette into the tape player.

“Wait for it! Wait for it!” He’d instruct, holding up a hand in anticipation of your reaction. You’d watch him with a smile, his head bobbing as the music reach it’s crescendo. Your eyes widened in delight as you were overcome by a wave of crashing cymbals and melodic guitars harmonies. It was a full body reaction. You lightly bounced in your seat. Your hands excitedly flexed and twitched, the music hitting your ears just right. “You like that, don’t you, Sweetheart?” Eddie would chuckle. You’d nod in agreement, Eddie’s deep brown eyes softening on you as a slight giggle escaped your lips.

Over the years, you had gotten better at reining yourself in and toning yourself down for the benefit of others. Even with Eddie. He had never given you any reason to feel insecure, but the scrutiny of others always lingered in the back of your mind. You never wanted him to view you as too much. But like with most things, you had your breaking points.

When Eddie invited you to the bonfire, you were apprehensive to say the least. You wrung your hands nervously at the invitation. But when Eddie threw an arm over your shoulder, you instantly felt a little more relaxed.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the entire night. Besides with everyone drinking and partying, they’ll be in their own little worlds. That’s how these things usually go. Just stick by me and everything will be alright. Okay?” Crowds were never really your thing but you could never say no to Eddie. Besides, maybe it would do you some good to step out of your comfort zone a little.

“Okay.” You nodded with a nervous sigh. A smile stretched across Eddie’s perfect face.

“That’s my girl.”

———

Students gathered deep in the woods around Skull rock. Some sat up on the stone, their legs dangling carelessly while other’s drank around the roaring fire. You walked under Eddie’s arm through the thickets and into the rowdy scene. He was absolutely right. You expected gawking eyes but not a glance was spared your way. Everyone was too busy enjoying themselves to care. It took no time for Eddie to zero in on his friends. Their style of dress was reminiscent to his own and hard to overlook.

“Let’s go say hi to the guys.” You let Eddie lead you in their direction. Greetings were exchanged before falling into the rhythm of idle conversation. They rambled on about their latest campaign, something you knew nothing about having never played D&D. You watched the feral teens and twenty something’s in their reckless abandon. It was like something out of National Geographic. Sleazy boys poaching tipsy women like lions to gazelles. Another boy was purging his guts up by the base of a tree, already surpassing his limits. Music blared through a tape deck. You struggled to pick up a steady rhythm with the millions of conversations all happening at once. You could feel yourself growing tense. You looked up to Eddie and his friend’s, totally content in their huddle which only made you feel worse. Be normal you internally cursed. No one else seemed bothered by the madness. The flames of the fire flickered in a strobe like effect, cutting everyone’s movement into a dizzying stop-motion display. Your heart had started racing. Volume seemed to be increasing as your eyes struggled to make out everything that was happening around you. You closed your eyes to try and calm yourself but you were already in your own head. By this point, you were hyper aware of everything. The suffocating heat of the fire. How itchy your sweater really was. Even the way your tongue illy fit in your mouth. You wanted to jump out of your own body. You squeezed your eyes tighter, praying the feeling would pass.

“She okay?” Garreth ask, noticing your contorted face. Eddie’s attention flashed to you immediately. His eyes filled with concern seeing something was wrong.

“Give us a minute.” He pulled you in close and walked you to a partial clearing. He bent down to meet your eye level and took your hands in his. “Talk to me, Sweetheart. What’s going on?” With your eyes clamped shut, you couldn’t see the way he worried for you. You shook your head, not wanting to answer. “C’mon Y/N. I can’t make this better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He ghosted his thumb along the back of your hand.

“I don’t know! It’s just too much! This is just too much for me!” Your eyes darted around the scene. Eddie watched them fill with tears. He’d never seen you cry before and he’d be damned if he let it happen now.

“Let’s go back to the van. It’s quiet there” He stepped forwards reaching a hand to you, waiting for you to let him guide you down the brush path and out of the woods. You sniffled as you laced your fingers with his. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

The walk back was miserable. Everything down to the seam of your socks in your shoes made your skin crawl. Eddie must’ve noticed the way you kept looking towards your feet with discomfort. He opened the passenger side door for you before taking the drivers seat. He didn’t bother turning the key, he thought the dark of the van might help you decompress. Eddie tapped his ringed hands against this lap. “Feet up.” You pressed your back against the door and stretched your legs over the center console. Eddie wasted no time in undoing your laces. You cocked your head to the side as you watched. It was amazing the way he could read you sometimes. He balled your socks together and tossed them in the back. “Is that better?” He whispered. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the window.

“Much better.”

“Great. Just take deep breaths for me, okay? We don’t have to go back there. Don’t even think about what’s going on out there. It’s just me and you now.” His tone was hushed and soft as silk. A sharp contrast to the grating sounds that racked your nerves just prior. You offered a simple nod, taking deep breaths just as Eddie had asked. The van was silent save for the chirp of crickets just outside. Eddie thought it better to let you start conversation when you were ready. He waited patiently. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was simple and almost cleansing. Your ridged posture softened in the quiet. You focused in on the rhythm of your breathing til it grounded you. A quiet I’m sorry left your lips.

“I didn’t mean to get so worked up.”

“Nah, that party sucked anyway. I mean, did you hear the music they were playing? Made my skin crawl too.” Eddie joked which instantly defused the situation. “You okay now though?”

“Yea, I think I’m good.” You sighed into the silence.

“Can I…touch you?” His tone was saccharine sweet and warm enough that you felt it in your stomach. A meek mhm is all you could muster. His features were soft in the low light of the van. You wanted to touch him as well but settled for his harmless hand over your shin. He rubbed his hand back and forth over the leg of your jeans in the most comforting way. “If I would’ve known you weren’t feeling okay, we would’ve left sooner.”

“I thought I could work through it.” You were embarrassed. How do you explain to someone something you don’t fully comprehend yourself?

“But you don’t have to. We were there to have fun. So if you’re not having fun, what’s the point in being there? There’s a million other things we can do.” Always so cool in his explanations. His words were never profound but somehow enlightened you anytime you felt lost or unsure.

“Yea, like what?”

Eddie shrugged. “Go for a quiet drive, get some food. Maybe go back to my place?” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We could watch a movie or something. Only if you want to! Or…I could just take you home, that’s cool too. I mean, It’s whatev-“ You leaned over the center console, cupping his perfect face in your hands. You pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, promptly shutting him up. His eyes grew to the size of saucers as you pulled away.

“A movie sounds great.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson x autistic reader #Eddie Munson request #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson angst

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Bonus Scene: Draco Malfoy's Adventures in Dating

Bonus scene time! This is one I've been holding onto for a while now. :)

Yes, it is indeed titled that. When I went to dig this out of my files I was delighted to see past me had titled this accordingly. It's so delightfully apt.

This doesn't really go for any year because it spans some months.

Let me know your thoughts! :3

**

Move on, right? He had to move on. The best way of moving on was…finding someone else to date!

That was easier said than done. Especially when he wasn’t even sure who to ask out.

Pansy was out for very obvious reasons, as were the other Slytherin girls that he knew.

At this point Draco wasn’t genuinely interested in anyone, but he could admit when someone was aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

He was aware that Abbott was interested in Padma Patil, but Parvati was also pretty and also rather bright if one disregarded how she liked Divination.

“What about Wayne?” Parvati seemed disbelieving after he asked her out. “Does he know you’re doing this?”

That had been the last reaction Draco expected. “Yes,” he answered, ignoring the fact that no, Michael did not know Draco was asking Parvati out this very second. He only knew that Michael had encouraged this, which was why Draco was asking Parvati out in public and risking public humiliation.

Parvati squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. “Aren’t you together with him?”

Draco wished that was the case but no. “If I were, then I wouldn’t be asking a lovely person such as you out, would I?”

Parvati snorted, then covered her mouth. “Oh God, that looked like it hurt for you to say.” She patted him briefly on the arm. “Thank you for the compliment, but I’m afraid I’d have to decline. Whatever’s going on with you and Wayne, you can work it out instead of trying to get back at him.”

Draco went back to the drawing board after that conversation and considered the other options in Hogwarts’s admittedly limited dating pool. They all shot him down with various reasons that usually involved Michael.

It was absolutely mortifying how many people knew. And by now also frustrating because they had never been together. Only people thought they had been or that they were on the verge of something that shouldn’t be ruined because of a mere quarrel.

“No,” Greengrass said when Draco glanced askance at her.

“I didn’t say anything,” Draco protested.

“You didn’t have to. My answer is still no.”

“You don’t know what I was about to ask!”

“I don’t have to. You trying to ask people out is all over Hogwarts by now.” Greengrass gave him a look over the essay she was writing. “I know what you’re doing, and I have too much self-respect to put myself in that mess.” That said, she busied herself with her essay, shutting the conversation down.

“Definitely not,” Zabini said when Draco glanced his way.

Draco threw his hands up. “I wasn’t thinking about it!”

“Either way, no.”

With Greengrass and Zabini out for obvious reasons – the chief being that Draco had never even considered asking either of them in the first place – he was relegated to desperate measures.

Draco was considering just how to approach Romilda Vane when Pansy stormed up to him in the Common Room, fuming. “You!”

“Hello,” Draco said absentmindedly, contemplating just how desperate he was to ask out the girl rumored to be brewing love potions for Potter. “And, no, I’m not asking you out.”

“Well, fine!” Pansy shrieked. “I don’t want to be asked out by you! You and – and that damn Hopkins!”

Draco’s head snapped in her direction. “Watch your tone,” he snapped.

“I don’t think I will!” Pansy shot back. “Do you know that he’s going around bragging about what he can do in bed?!”

Draco blinked. “What?” That didn’t sound like Michael at all.

“First you have to talk about those things at breakfast! Now he’s going around and saying he’s better than all of us!”

“He’s what,” Draco said blankly, deliberately ignoring the reference to that one Breakfast Conversation that he really didn’t need to know about but which he’d still heard about through the grapevine.

“Pansy!” Nott came up behind her, trying to grab her arm but almost getting slapped in the face.

Pansy whirled on him. “And you! You could be better! He was right! That was – that was absolutely awful!”

Nott turned an unaesthetic shade of red. “You certainly didn’t seem to think so at the time!”

“How was I supposed to say ‘that was disappointing; I thought you’d last longer’?!”

Draco slowly took a step back, mind whirling at what he’d just inadvertently found out about Pansy and Nott’s relationship. And that apparently Michael…had insulted it? Why? Michael didn’t normally go around insulting people.

“No!” Pansy shouted, slapping at Nott’s hands again. “I don’t even know why I bother!” She ran off to the girls’ dormitory, leaving Nott staring after her.

Following a stunned moment of silence, Nott turned to Draco and hissed, “Not a word!” and stalked off.

Draco was certainly intending on never mentioning this again or even thinking of it.

At least until someone asked him in a sly voice, “So is he really that good?”

“Is who good?”

“Wayne Hopkins. Is he really as good as he claims he is?”

Draco almost said “better” before stopping and thinking that perhaps he should clarify what they were referring to. “In what?”

“You know.”

“I…don’t?” Oh bloody hell, Draco hoped they weren’t referring to what he thought they were—

“Is he as good in bed as he claims he is?”

Draco went flaming red in a second, muttered a quick excuse, and fled.

More people asked him similar questions until Draco eventually just said “This is absolutely none of your business” and did his absolute best to pretend he wasn’t imagining what everybody else was clearly picturing.

No, that had never happened and Draco hadn’t really thought about it either because all he had hoped for was a little something but now that the doors had opened it was impossible to not think of it.

It wasn’t helping him get over Michael at all.

Speaking of that, Draco should just ask Romilda Vane out and get it over with.

“You’re asking me out?” Vane’s eyebrows had risen at least an inch since he got the question out. “Wait, is this a threesome deal?”

Draco masterfully resisted the urge to scrub that visual image out of his brain. “No.”

“Oh.” Vane looked mildly disappointed at the denial, and now Draco really wanted to apply a Cleaning Charm to his own brain. “Well, did you pick up any tips from him?”

Tips? Tips?

Draco closed his eyes, pictured Voldemort’s gruesome face before he could ruin everything by blushing, and then met Vane’s eyes again. “You could find out,” he offered with a grin, though his stomach squirmed at the thought.

Damn Michael and Pansy. Damn Michael for insinuating that he knew things.

Vane smiled at him, the sight akin to a predator sighting prey. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Draco managed, still grinning. “How does Hogsmeade sound?”

“Perfect.” Vane beamed at him. “I look forward to it.”

Draco couldn’t quite manage to reciprocate the sentiment but did have to think that he finally got a date. If only because Vane wanted to know if Draco had… No, he couldn’t even think that.

Unfortunately, he had to keep thinking about it because Vane kept shooting him sultry looks and winks whenever he caught her eyes. He was beginning to regret asking for a specific date and not just doing what Weasley and Lavender Brown were doing – minus the snogging.

Thankfully the Hogsmeade weekend came quickly. Vane seemed perfectly happy to go to Madame Puddifoot’s, which was no longer as nauseatingly pink as it had been last month for Valentine’s Day.

Draco had fully intended on sitting through the entire date, even if he would have to skive off near the end so Vane didn’t start getting ideas about what would happen after.

“—but you’re friends with Loony Lovegood, right? Or you spend time with her?” Vane was saying. “God, I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”

Draco had only tuned in the moment she’d said Luna’s last name, having been otherwise nodding and humming his way through the conversation thus far. “What did you call her?”

“Oh, Loony Lovegood,” Vane said, blinking innocently. “Because she’s loony, you know? All those creatures she talks about – and she’s so strange—”

“Or perhaps,” Draco said, smiling tightly, “she’s discovered some species that we’re not aware of. I do recall that Newton Scamander was at one point also considered just as strange.” He stood. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“What – but – Draco—”

“Better not let Wayne hear you say that name either,” Draco said, recalling quite clearly what Michael’s expression had looked like the last time someone had mistreated Luna in his hearing.

“Oh, Wayne.” Vane made a face. “You’re still hung up on him, aren’t you? Why? He clearly doesn’t want you!”

Draco stilled, closing his eyes at the self-doubts that plagued him and told him that was why Michael had turned him down. He reminded himself of Michael’s face last month and at the lake. And how he’d told Draco multiple times he did love him, but not like how a human could.

It was fine. It was fine.

“Better that,” Draco said eventually, opening his eyes and glancing back at Vane, “than this.” He took out some money, placing it on the table to pay for their meal. “Have a good afternoon.”

He headed out of the caf�� without another word, thinking that had gone absolutely terribly but surely it was only upwards from here on out?

…It was not upwards from on out.

Mandy Brocklehurst was certainly much pleasanter than Vane but entirely uninteresting and also insulted Luna to his face.

Luna had seemed absolutely delighted when Brocklehurst came to breakfast the next day with all her robes in disgustingly neon colors. She had also seemed to realize that it was Draco’s doing, giving him a small hug in the corridors.

The girls outside of Ravenclaw didn’t insult Luna but they were also wholly uninteresting and seemed more interested in what Draco could do for them than anything else. Even those who were interesting – such as Katie Bell – ended the date by patting Draco on the shoulder and telling him he was sweet and that maybe he should just try and talk to Wayne.

Draco did eventually move on to the boys because maybe that was different? He’d thought Wayne was a human boy at first (actually, how did that work with angels? Was Michael a boy? Michael was a boy’s name, wasn’t it?), so it stood to reason that maybe he’d find another boy interesting enough to date?

Potter started avoiding Draco like he had the plague once word spread that Draco was also dating boys. It was clear he had no interest in being asked out. Draco was only offended that Potter even thought Draco would ask him out.

“Sectumsempra!”

No, like hell was Draco asking Harry Potter out.

Smith and Finnigan both asked Draco out, but Draco turned that down because he wasn’t interested in what those two were clearly offering.

The other Slytherins were out for obvious reasons, which just left Draco with whatever boys weren’t already dating. In the end everything ended the same way it had when he’d dated the girls, which left him with nothing.

Hogwarts’s dating pool was depressingly small when one seriously considered it.

“Maybe you’re not giving anyone a chance,” Luna said one evening.

“I’m giving them chances,” Draco mumbled, his sense of propriety the only thing keeping him from face-planting on the table. “I’m giving them all plenty of chances.”

Luna didn’t say anything, just patting him on the back.

Draco could definitely see why Michael liked her so much.

Well, there was always the chance he’d find someone over summer. Maybe his mother had some recommendations.

-

Draco’s mother didn’t have any recommendations aside from just…giving it time. That time and space would help heal a broken heart but pushing it wouldn’t do anyone any favors.

“He said I was supposed to try and find someone,” Draco murmured, fingers brushing against the petals of a flower.

His mother sighed from beside him. “I don’t think he meant immediately, Draco. I won’t pretend to understand what goes through his mind, but I do know he loves you very much.”

“Mother—”

“Shush, Draco.” His mother shot him a quelling look. “I know he loves you very much,” she repeated in a gentle tone, “and he only wants you to be happy. What do you think he thought of what you were doing?”

“I don’t know.” Michael hadn’t said anything about the dating, respecting Draco’s wishes to keep quiet. “I don’t think he minded.” He certainly hadn’t seemed jealous or upset about anything. He’d always been there when Draco was tired of making nice with people he didn’t really want to know.

His mother was quiet for a long moment. Then, “What do you want?”

“I want…” Draco let out a long breath, closing his eyes. He wanted it to stop hurting. He wanted for it to be over with.

“Oh, Draco.” His mother rested a hand on his shoulder. “You were always a sensitive child.”

Draco didn’t meet her eyes.

“No one says you have to move on now,” his mother told him gently. “He certainly didn’t. There’s no rush, Draco. Simply take your time; you have that now.”

Time… Draco certainly had that, didn’t he?

The next few months stretched out before him. Months during which Draco didn’t have to see Michael every day for classes. Months during which Draco could do just what Michael wanted him to – move on.

“Does it get better?” The question slipped out before Draco realized he asked it.

His mother cupped his face, angling it slightly down so she could meet his eyes. “Sometimes.”

It wasn’t what Draco wanted to hear, but he appreciated the honesty.

-

It was Ginny Weasley who initiated the conversation, sending him a letter via owl suggesting a surprise birthday party for Michael and inviting him in on the proceedings to surprise Michael as well.

Draco had thus far managed to avoid seeing Michael entirely, even though he kept in contact with him through letters.

He thought it was going well so far. Putting space between them and no longer seeing Michael’s face everyday meant that his heart no longer felt like it was about to crack when he saw him or thought about him. It meant that Draco could think of Michael warmly and fondly without wanting to…well…those things.

A quick head shake put a stop to those thoughts. He’d had enough of those at Hogwarts thanks to the rumor mill.

He wrote back to Weasley confirming the party and also that he would be coming. He then asked what she would be doing to hide the party from Michael, who could literally read minds. He suggested some tips that he’d picked up during his initial Occlumency lessons – tips that anyone should be able to do even if they had no talents in the mind arts.

Seeing Michael on his birthday – his human birthday – was certainly a good test to see if this whole “space and time” thing had worked out. If Draco was really over him.

He thought he was. It didn’t feel the same like it had before, so Draco must be, right?

Luna asked him the same question one day when she was visiting for some tea. Draco hadn’t been sure it was a good idea but she’d invited herself over in one letter and the next thing Draco knew he was introducing her to his parents.

“I think it worked,” Draco said when Luna asked him if he was really fine with everything. “It doesn’t feel the same way, you know?”

Luna nodded, chewing her lower lip. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Yes.” Because this was what Michael had wanted. Draco was tired of putting space between himself and his best friend because of feelings. “I’m not dating anymore, though. That was utterly useless and ridiculous.”

“Well, of course it was,” Luna said. “They didn’t fit your energy at all.”

Draco decided not to ask what she meant by that. Knowing Luna the answer would be as clear as glass, only slightly comprehensible if you turned your head and squinted, or as muddy as swamp water.

Afterwards his mother asked him if he liked Luna? She seemed like a sweet girl if absentminded (which was code for “extremely strange and possibly addled”).

Draco barely thought about it before wrinkling his nose up in distaste. Luna? Really? She was admittedly sweet and nice but Draco didn’t think of her at all like that. She was almost like…

He didn’t have any siblings, but Draco thought that their relationship was like that between a brother and sister. It felt easy in a way that the strained relationships he had with Michael’s other friends didn’t feel like.

His mother must have read something of his thoughts in his face since she didn’t press further.

Draco put those thoughts out of mind in the few weeks remaining before August 31st, and then it was the day and he was Flooing to Weasley’s house. He was told to remain quiet and in the background until Michael arrived with Luna; Macmillan and Finch-Fletchley were emptying bottles of ridiculously shiny glitter into bowls as Draco was told this.

His first sight of Michael since term had ended was that of his friend covered in glitter and blinking in surprise. His dark brown hair was sparkling with glitter and he’d managed to rub it out of his eyes but it still dusted his cheeks and forehead.

Draco’s first thought was He looks ridiculous, followed by Bloody hell, he’s cute and then Oh, shit.

Draco almost missed his cue when Luna said they had one more surprise for Michael. He managed it after Bones poked him in the shoulder.

Michael looked – he looked surprised to see Draco. Surprised and pleased.

Draco’s chest warmed at the thought that he was able to make Michael happy and oh shit, he was still screwed.

It didn’t feel the same as it had before. It felt like more and that was just not on.

Only Draco was so damn tired of trying and trying to push it away and do what Michael had told him to. He’d tried, hadn’t he? He’d tried and there wasn’t anyone else in Hogwarts he could date unless he went for the younger years and that was just gross.

“Well…” Draco coughed, glanced at Michael and realized that was a bad idea when all he could see was glitter and Michael’s face and quickly looked away, rubbing his neck nervously. “You’ve got…glitter.”

“I know.” Michael didn’t sound bothered by this fact. “You’re here.” He said it like he hadn’t expected Draco to be here at all – like Draco’s presence was a gift.

Or maybe Draco was just projecting.

“I am.” Draco swallowed past the dryness in his throat, wishing for something to drink. He looked quickly at Michael and then elsewhere, eyes landing on the magically enchanted clock. It was interesting enough to hold his attention so he wouldn’t just be staring at Michael. “Luna invited me, but the party was Weasley’s idea.” 

“I didn’t think I’d see you before Hogwarts.” There was no recrimination in Michael’s tone, but Draco felt guilty nonetheless.

“Yes, I…” Draco wasn’t sure how to explain his thought processes at the beginning of summer. It had been so hopeful back then and now? “I’m here,” was all he managed, smiling weakly. “And, er…” He tried to release some of the tension in his shoulders. He’d had a plan, didn’t he? About what to tell Michael? “I wanted to tell you something.”

Everyone else had disappeared, ostensibly to give Draco privacy to tell Michael what he was supposed to – that he was over Michael now. That things could go back to normal.

But things weren’t fine.

Draco could lie, couldn’t he? He could tell Michael that and pretend things were fine and push everything down. He’d done it long enough and he was tired of not being able to talk to Michael like he’d used to.

He didn’t expect Michael to move closer. “I’m all ears.”

Draco almost laughed at the unusual phrasing, biting his lip before it could break free. He flexed his hands, the words sitting on the tip of his tongue. It’s done. I don’t need time anymore. We’re good now. We can just be friends.

Only when he moved to speak, he instead said, “I made Head Boy.” And then, like a train wreck, he also said, “And Quidditch captain!”

Michael’s smile was blinding; Draco’s heart skipped a beat or several. He wasn’t entirely sure, and he almost missed Michael congratulating him.

He definitely felt it when his cheeks heated, and he had to duck his head before Michael could see, covering the motion by lifting his hand to his hair. “Thanks.” Then, because he was already committed to this conversation, he added, “I’m going to be overhauling the Quidditch team this year – recruit based on talent.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

The quiet confidence in Michael’s tone had Draco’s stomach squirming in pleasure even as his chest warmed at the same time.

Breathe, breathe. Draco managed a deep breath that helped calm some of the anxious fluttering in his stomach. Once assured that he wasn’t blushing any longer, he dropped his hand and straightened, smiling at Michael.

It was fine. It would definitely be fine.

Draco could do this. “You look ridiculous, by the way. I can’t take you seriously covered in glitter like that.”

“That’s fine.” Yet Michael glanced down as if to check that he was indeed covered in glitter.

He was. Draco felt vaguely sorry for the person who had to clean the mess up as the floor at Michael’s feet was just as sparkly.

Before he could lose his nerve, Draco continued speaking, saying part of what he had originally meant to say. “I’m done with needing time. I – er…” He couldn’t say it. He swallowed, shrugging. “I’m done,” was all he managed.

He was sure his Occlumency shields were still up, but Michael was looking at him as if he knew that wasn’t everything Draco meant to say. His expression was concerned.

“You can take more if you need it,” Michael said quietly.

Oh, Draco knew that. He knew Michael would give him all the space he needed or wanted. He knew Michael would break this friendship off entirely if that was what Draco decided.

“I know, but I don’t.” It was a lie that Michael either didn’t catch or didn’t call Draco out on, and then they were in the kitchen. The kitchen Michael wasn’t allowed to be in because Weasley was trying to hide the cake from him.

“Did that go well or not?” Abbott asked Draco once Michael had been shooed out and told to find Macmillan and Finch-Fletchley. “I can’t always tell with Michael.”

Draco didn’t verbally answer, taking a chocolate-covered spoon from beside the sink and inspecting it closely.

“…Not well, then?”

Draco’s answer was to stick the spoon in his mouth.

“What did you say?” Luna asked.

“Head Boy,” Draco mumbled around the spoon.

Abbott and Bones glanced at each other. Weasley was too busy inspecting the cake layers to react, poking at them and muttering to herself.

“Let’s go outside,” Luna thankfully suggested, and she took hold of Draco’s arm before he could react, pulling him out the back door.

“You can de-gnome the garden while you’re out there!” Weasley called after them.

Draco wanted to ask what she meant by “de-gnome” but his question was answered a moment later when a couple of gnomes gave him beady-eyed glares from the hedges. It figured that the Weasleys had a gnome infestation.

“You can pick them up and throw them over the hedge,” Luna said when Draco didn’t say anything. “It might make you feel better.”

Draco didn’t think he was quite far enough gone to actually stoop to manually de-gnoming a garden. He could, however, do it with magic.

“Were you not able to tell him?” Luna asked him once Draco had levitated his first gnome.

“I told him I don’t need time anymore.” Draco spun the gnome around several times and then let it go flying.

“But…nothing else?”

Draco exhaled through his nose, picking another gnome to be his unlucky victim.

Luna watched this gnome go flying as well before she broke the silence. “It didn’t change, did it?”

Draco mutely shook his head, firing a silent Levitation Charm at one fleeing gnome. It swore at him when it took hold.

“Feelings are funny like that,” Luna said softly. “Sometimes you try pulling them out, but they just go dormant. And then it’s spring and they’re growing again.”

That was certainly a poetic way of looking at the situation.

“They don’t feel the same,” Draco said eventually. “It’s – it’s different.” Why? Because he knew Michael better now?

Luna made a small humming sound. “Why don’t you tell him that?”

The last thing Draco wanted was a repeat of the last conversation they had about Draco’s feelings. “He doesn’t want to hear it. You know that.”

Luna didn’t say anything as Draco sent two more gnomes flying over the hedge.

“He wants to give you a choice.”

The latest gnome fell back to the ground with an insulted swear. “He what?” Draco turned to her. “How is this a choice?”

“He thinks he’s not good enough for you,” Luna said, deadly serious.

Draco scoffed before he could think the better of it. Really? If anything it was the other way around!

“Didn’t you hear?” Luna didn’t look away from him. “It’s what he told Michael Corner – that he’s not good enough for you. He wanted to give you the choice to choose – to try and find someone else.”

“Shouldn’t it be my choice to begin with?” Draco snapped.

“Yes.” Luna’s fierce tone surprised Draco. “It is your choice, Draco. It’s always your choice. It’s your free will; Michael won’t take that away.”

“What was that he did before then?” Draco muttered. “Telling me that I had to move on?”

“But you tried, didn’t you?” Luna pointed out. “He wanted to give you an option – something to choose from. Because you didn’t know before.” Draco could feel her looking at him. “But you know now, don’t you?”

Draco rubbed at the bridge of his nose, thinking of all the dates he had been on and just how awful they had been. It really hadn’t been fair on any of them, but at least he knew better now. “Yes.”

“You could tell him.” Luna’s voice was quiet. “Tell him now since you did try.”

“I don’t…” Draco didn’t think that would change anything. At the end of the day, Michael was still an immortal archangel and Draco was a human.

Maybe Draco needed more time. Maybe Draco needed to just pretend things were fine and back to normal and they would eventually become normal. It was only another year.

He could pretend things were fine for another year and then take all the time he needed to really try and move on and find someone else. Someone who wasn’t in Hogwarts and didn’t know Michael.

“I just want to be friends,” Draco finally said, because he knew that was true.

Luna said nothing, touching his shoulder comfortingly.

One more year. Draco could do this.

#first born #my writing #bonus scene #draco malfoy #the last archangel

[fanfic-inator795]

It’s 3 am, I can’t sleep both because I’m too awake and because my cat keeps getting in my face, and for whatever reason I’m in the mood to talk about my aromantic journey.

I’m not sure how many aros/allos had this experience, but I distinctly remember trying to force crushes as early as elementary school. I’d have no real reason why other than ‘hey, the girls in the cartoons I watch have crushes, so I should too. If Helga Pataki is out here daydreaming about her wedding, I should too!’

Never mind the fact that I barely even knew the boy I was drawing myself at the altar with, I just knew he was nice - and after a month AT MOST I’d just never talk to or think about him again. At that time I really was so much in my own world that I really did have one or two close friends and then a bunch of acquaintances because we had all went to the same elementary/middle school.

The closest thing I ever got to a ‘boyfriend’ of sorts was this guy in high school who was a year older than me. We were both in our school band’s brass section (different instruments tho, I can’t remember if he was trombone or tuba) and he was practically the definition of a safe guy.

Beyond the fact that we were both in band, we both liked cartoons and liked talking about cartoons. I even shared my fanfiction with him and he was always nice to me. We were good friends, and again with how many Friends to Lovers plots I saw on TV, I just had kind of a “yeah, if this happens I could live with it” mentality.

I told myself that I had a crush on him, but honestly I think I was just really happy to have a close friend. All our ‘dates’ were to the movies, but I always cared more about the movie itself and then talking about it with him afterwards (wasn’t that the whole point of going to the movies with someone, I wondered, completely missing and ignoring the OTHER point of movie dates)

We held hands once while watching one of our school’s musicals (couldn’t focus too much on whether or not I enjoyed it tho since I was suffering with a headache at the time. fucking Annie. Still hate those songs :P) I also remember him giving me these hugs that felt very long, and I remember asking my one friend if that seemed weird to her, not hating these hugs but not enjoying them as much as I probably should have either.

Things reached a culmination with prom. We had a two-hour late start on Valentine’s Day that year, and while I had bought him a Reese’s heart, I remember feeling nervous about possibly receiving some sort of grand prom-posal in return, and was relieved when the late start messed up his plans. I was already not feeling the whole prom thing, with my mom straight up telling me “if someone asks you, you’d better accept!” as a response. Sure enough, he asked me and I wasn’t sure how to say no.

Thankfully as I said, he was a truly nice guy, and when he saw my hesitation he suggested an alternative: a movie, supper at Applebee’s (aka the closest thing you get to fairly nice dining in a small Midwest town) and then the after-prom carnival. I instantly agreed. At the time I told myself the reason why I didn’t wanna go to actual prom was because I was shy, hadn’t had good experiences at other school dances and didn’t want to get all dressed up. All honest reasons that I’m sure did play a big part, but I think my unknown-at-the-time uncomfiness with personal romance also played a part.

Before then, I can remember pondering over my date-lessness, acknowledging how weird it probably was that I had never kissed anyone and how possible it was that I’d just stay a virgin… and those thoughts were just that, thoughts. No angsting, just a passing “yeah, I guess that is weird” and then moving on, never really feeling passionate enough or worried enough to properly dwell on it.

Anyway, as I said before, the most enjoyable and memorable part of my prom night was seeing Aardman’s “Pirates: Band of Misfits” (still a great movie). Afterwards, we continued hanging out until he graduated and went off to college, and while we hung out a couple more times after, it didn’t take us long to loose touch.

I remember the last time we hung out feeling so damn anxious and not really knowing why, to the point of nearly canceling our meet-up. Then we did meet up, we talked, had a chill and friendly time - and again, SUCH a relief without really knowing why.

My last real ‘experience’ with romance was in college with another ‘safe’ guy from one of my classes. I thought I liked him, he somehow noticed and asked. I said yes, he said he wasn’t interested in a relationship at the time, and i was just like “oh, okay, no worries”. And that was that, no second thoughts.

Outside of that, I explored my maybe-bisexuality through RPs with the person who had not only become my best friend (love you Tessa ^v^) but who first taught me what asexuality was. I came to a conclusion that ‘hey, I think I’d be okay with dating girls actually, cause girls are pretty and these girls I’ve been hanging out with during study abroad are really nice’. Again, when you grow up with 1-2 close friends AT MAX per grade/per school, genuine friendship seems like the biggest thing in the world (and tbh it is, at least to me but I’m sure not to others, not to the same extreme I mean).

I graduated college without ever having a boyfriend, a girlfriend or even a first kiss - and being pretty okay with that. I knew 100% at that point that I was a proud asexual who thought sex seemed sorta boring at best and gross/painful at worst, easily falling into the neutral/repulsed side of things. I kept using the bi label (and for what it’s worth, it still half-fits since, when it comes to the animated characters I’m attracted to, I’m still good with both) until a year or two ago when I fully accepted that I was likely somewhere on the aro spectrum as well - and much like when I realized I was ace, it suddenly made a lot of things make more sense.

So here I am, a happy ace/aro woman who gets to live with my best friend and our two cats - and after over 10 years of friendship (longest, most meaningful and least fairweather friendship I’ve ever had, next to the one I have with my brother) and about two years of getting to live with her and have fun with her and be there for her in all the ways she’s there for me - in all honesty, I truly can’t think of a better outcome ^v^

#personal crap #random thoughts #aromantic #aromantism #replies are ok but pls don’t reblog

[eren-the-eldritch]

I have compiled a list of Arthur’s scar leaving injuries so people(me) don’t forget(still me) to draw them (i’ll update this when new significant injuries happen and at the end of this i’ll do a tl;dr of what Arthur’s current state might look like now, leaving out uncertainties and including things like starvation and shaving.

Part 1 “The Dark World”

There were no blood mentions regarding Parker’s body and I’m taking a shot in the dark and saying the method was strangulation (unless John just used some weird magic and not Arth’s body). When being strangled, most will panic and claw at the aggressors wrists- But then wouldn’t there be blood? Maybe enough time passed for it to dry and remain hidden under Arthur’s sleeves. I dunno I just like the idea of that moment leaving scars.

Part 3 “The Mansion”

There was a car crash (surprising it only happened on the duo’s 2nd drive..). Arth literally had to climb through a seat to get to the baby in the back however the baby remained unharmed so maybe he could’ve been unharmed as well? Buutttt he did black out for a split second and said he couldn’t think straight. I believe a small superficial head scar to be possible along with some tiny other facial scaring all, caused by the glass windshield shattering a bit due to the crash. After all, there was sound of stepping over glass when he walked away from the wreck..

Arth also fell through a wooden stairway but no attention was drawn to any possible injury on his body and I realllyy doubt that he wasn’t harmed in some way.. maybe thin scars were created by the wood scratching thin areas like the hands and ankles or areas that scar easily but you just happen to be able to ignore it in the moment, y’know?

Part 4 “The Voices”

Near the end of this episode, Arthur gets huge damage to the stomach causing it to bleed. Pretty sure it was inflicted by a kitchen knife or something larger. Art said something along the lines of his entire waistline feeling wet with blood and it was enough damage for John to say the words “if this is the end…” and some sappy shit. Definitely a deep cut.

(Wow… dying from a botched c-section… not unbelievable but very uncommon for a man who, unless I skipped an episode, was not pregnant…)

Part 9 “The Boat”

Everyyyyone knows about the 3 shots Arthur took to the chest but i’ll mark it anyway. The first two shots seemed to only be like “OW” but he could probably keep going. By that excellent deduction I conclude they didn’t hit the heart. The third one probably did tho, sounded like he was seeing the light- or well, the dark at that point.

Part 12 “The End”

These little tadpole guy things tries to slither into arthur’s arm, arthur has to press lighter against skin to stop the thing from getting further in, bleeding a bit, possible scar + burn scar.

Part 13 “The Dreamlands”

Now it’s time to bring up the wooden pinkie. The duo bit it off to give the trees a friend, cauterized the wound, and a wooden pinkie grew out. There could be burn scarring where the wooden replacement pinkies grew out.

Part 15 “The Storm”

The injury caused here is kinda the entire reason I decided to go back through all the episodes and check because I forgot about this one entirely. Here the duo just barely escape a dark storm by hiding behind a large boat bitten by rust. The wind tore off some skin on the right side of Arthy’s face and it was apparently difficult to see out of their right eye until they cleaned it.

Part 17 “The Fall”

The monster thing threw a rock at Art from ceiling which resulted in a deep cut in his bicep. His shoulder dislocated on the same arm and from the fact that Arthur (who only has control of the right hand) had to set it back I think the damage was on the left arm.

Part 20 “The King” + “Coda”

Arthur got cut by one of the King’s dancer’s cut Arthur although it isn’t clear where it sounded like it drew blood (aka it scarred). Arthur also stabbed himself in the throat, just missing his jugular. That definitely left a kayne-knife-shaped scar.

Part 23 “The Past”

A piece of Arthur’s right ear was torn off, ouch.

(gonna include this here because I don’t want to go back and check which episode this happened in but Arthur did shave at like the beginning of the season after he got to the weird bar. I remember because he kept going on about deserving a wash and a shave and yellow was so pissy about it)

Part 27 “The Roots”

And now everyone’s favorite episode! We know Arth isn’t gonna die so i’m considering what the marks left by this near death experience may be. Arthur gets pierced by some tendril thing through the stomach so depending on what means through which it heals, there’s gonna be a huge scar there (i can’t imagine it just stays an open hole.. or it could, who knows!) Also, based on how the creature thing cut it out, there should be a gash in Arth’s head from where john cut the monster thingy’s tendril out.

tl;dr

Arthur is (circa part 26 not 27) a very thin, clean-shaven man showing signs of starvation covered in scars with the most significant being the superficial scarring on the right side of his face, a deep scar across his stomach covering the entirety of his waistline, 3 small wounds to the chest caused by bullets, a wooden pinkie on his left hand, a deep scar over his throat, a deep cut in his left bicep, a piece of his right ear bitten off, a burn scar on his arm where he had to burn a tadpole out of it.

#this is probably useless but i literally needed this list at some point but I couldn’t find one anywhere so I had to make it myself >:( #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #if i missed anything lmk #malevolent podcast spoilers

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Five Times Someone Mistook Roman And Remus (And One Time They Finally Met)

1. Austin

[Original post] • [2] [3] [4] [5] [+1]

Word Count: 701

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Intruxiety

Warnings: shouting, accusations of cheating (no actual cheating), swearing, shitty (ex)boyfriends, panic attacks

Also just to be clear Roman and Remus are not in any way related in this, they just happen to look a lot alike

~~~START~~~

This was only their third date, but Remus really liked Virgil.  

They’d originally been sent on a blind date by their mutual friend, Patton (who, Remus later learned, had had to bribe Virgil with cookies so that he’d even go), and had hit it off immediately. Remus was an artist whose work focused heavily on horror; Virgil was a fashion designer whose work could be called “Hot Topic-Chic”.  

But it wasn’t just their mutual participation in counter-culture and fascination with the darker things in life that made Patton certain that they were “soulmates”. No, it was the way that most of Remus’s favorite pieces were about finding hope in the darkness; it was the way Virgil lined his favorite clothes with a cute kitty-cat patterned fabric; it was the way Remus had named his dog Mr. Snuggles; it was the way Virgil’s apartment was filled with cuddly plushies that he made himself.  

And quite frankly it was the way that both of them had horrendous taste in eye makeup.  

But no matter what reason Patton had for setting them up, Remus couldn’t be happier about it.  

For their third date, they’d gone to Patton’s cat-theme café (which didn’t have any real cats in it since Patton was allergic), and then they’d taken their hot chocolates (since both of them were on medications that prevented them from having caffeine) and donuts to the park across the street. It had been threatening to rain all morning, so there weren’t too many other people out and about, but now the clouds were starting to clear.  

Remus wasn’t really sure what had happened — one minute he and Virgil were discussing the darker themes in cartoons, and the next there was a very irate man screaming at them.  

Or more specifically, screaming at Remus.  

“I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!” The man screeched. “YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME!? AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE FOR YOU!? AFTER I ATTENDED THAT SHITTY PLAY LAST MONTH!? Oh, don’t tell me, you actually are sleeping with that actor guy? I knew it! That ‘stage kiss’ had way too much chemistry! So, who’s this? Your third side-hoe? Fourth?” 

“Okay first of all,” Remus seethed; he had no idea who this man was, but clearly Remus resembled someone he knew, and clearly that someone deserved better. “Back the fuck up! Secondly, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you have problems, dude. Thirdly, Vee is my only hoe, so write that down!” 

“Oh, grow up!” The man sneered. “You think gluing some shitty fake mustache to your face and changing your clothes makes you unrecognizable? Newsflash Ro, it doesn’t, so stop pretending you don’t know me, and let’s have a real conversation like grownups!” 

The man reached out to pull at Remus’s mustache, but Remus slapped his hand away before he could make contact.  

“Maybe you need to grow up and stop yelling at strangers in parks,” Virgil hissed, but the man fully ignored him.  

“You know what? We’re through! Your singing sucks, your acting is hacky, and it is weird that you’re a full-grown man who’s still into Disney! Lose my number, I never want to see you again.” 

The man shoved past Remus — knocking the cocoa out of his hand — and stormed away.  

“The feeling’s mutual!” Remus shouted at the man’s retreating form. “HE’S BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU! What a turd.” 

“Y-yeah,” Virgil stammered, drawing Remus’s attention to the fact that he was shaking.  

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, taking Virgil’s hand gently. “I swear I’ve never seen that man before in my life! I would never–” 

“I believe you,” Virgil cut him off, breath hitching. “I do. I’m just bad at confrontation.” 

“Okay. Do you need to sit down? We can go back to Patton’s. Or there’s a bench over there if you want?” 

“Bench!” Virgil gasped.  

Remus led him over to the bench, and sat patiently while Virgil went through some breathing exercises.  

“So?” Virgil asked once his breathing had evened out. “I’m your only hoe?” 

Remus cracked a grin. “Oh absolutely! Nothing could compare to that ass!” 

Virgil lasted exactly two seconds before he was doubled over laughing and wheezing with Remus close behind.  

“You’re my only hoe, too.” 

~~~END~~~

I don’t think I’m quite sold on the title, but I had trouble finding a short way to word what this is (technically I don’t need to put “Five And One” but shut up)

This is my first attempt at Dukexiety as a pairing, and I’m not exactly sure I’ve quite hit the vibe, but to be fair, it is a new relationship soooo

(I picked Dukexiety mostly so I could have Virgil go “who are you and what have you done with Remus?” to Roman)

General taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives @misunderstood-shadowling

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #intruxiety #roman sanders #patton sanders #doppelgänger au #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

[anticomedygarden]

he touches me, and i get turned around

title from billy joel's 'she's got a way'

5 times sirius marked remus and one time it was remus

-

1.

The first time Sirius wrote on Remus was in their first year during Charms. Flitwick was explaining the various unlocking spells when Sirius suddenly turned to Remus and whispered, frantically, “Write that down.”

“What?” Remus said, confused. He had half a mind to shush the other boy. Unlike Sirius, Remus was actually trying to learn. 

Sirius waved a hand. “I have a feeling it’ll be important for later.” 

Remus wrinkled his nose and turned back to Flitwick. “Write it yourself,” he murmured. In front of them, James and Peter were playing tic-tac-toe directly on the desk. 

Sirius made a noise of frustration. “I didn’t bring a quill.”

“Sounds like your own fault,” Remus responded apathetically, then gasped as his quill was stolen right out of his hand. “Hey!” 

He gasped again as Sirius pulled up the sleeve of his robe. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered harshly. 

“I didn’t bring parchment, either,” Sirius answered. “And you really shouldn’t say that word.” For even at 11, Remus had a pottymouth, but Sirius was still in part the well bred pureblood heir. 

Remus ignored him. “Why can’t you write it on yourself?” he asked, pulling his arm away sharply as Sirius finished his notes. 

“I’m paler than you,” Sirius said matter-of-factly, as if that answered anything. 

“Whatever,” Remus muttered, turning back to the lecture. As long as Sirius didn’t make a habit out of it. 

Later, Remus would smile at the words written on his arm, though he would never have the heart to tell Sirius that he had copied down Flitwick’s lecture in his own notes that day and would’ve been happy to share. 

2.

The next time Sirius wrote on Remus was at the end of first year in the infirmary the morning after the full moon. He would leave before Remus woke as he wasn’t ready for his friend to find out that he knew Remus was a werewolf, but Remus would wake up to a delightful drawing on his hand of the Whomping Willow beating the crap out of a little doodle figure labeled “Snivellus”. 

Oh, and Sirius absolutely made a habit out of it. 

3.

This time it was fourth year, and Remus wasn’t amused. 

It wasn’t the first time it had happened. In fact, it wasn’t the second, third, fourth, or any countable repetition of the instance. 

It was, however, the first time Sirius had drawn on Remus in permanent ink. On his face. With neon. 

He winced as he heard another fucking whistle from someone in the hall around them. And they still had two floors to go before they reached the Transfiguration classroom. Great. 

“Sorry, Moons,” Sirius said, though he was grinning. 

Remus put a hand over his face. “Fuck off.” He was one cat call away from turning tail and hiding in the dormitory until the halls were empty enough that he could slink to the infirmary unnoticed. 

“I like it,” Peter said from behind him. “It makes it look like you’re in a gang. Or someone tried to give you a really creepy Valentine.”

James snickered. “It’s not that bad, mate. Looks kinda cool if you ask me. Nothing like you absorbed a radioactive lion.” Remus just glared at him. 

“Hey, you could’ve easily chosen to drink instead of letting me draw on your face with magical ink!” Sirius defended himself. 

“Yeah, because I hadn’t drank enough already,” responded Remus who still had enough of a hangover to prove it. He and Sirius had both drank an excessive amount of alcohol the night before, even more than James and Peter who had wisely gone to bed at a reasonable time for a school night. Sirius and Remus, however, had stayed up and played truth or dare with a generous amount of whiskey. 

Sirius giggled. “Hey, I was also drunk. I had just as little self control as you!” 

“You didn’t have to draw a giant pink lion on my face!” Remus exclaimed finally, hoping to weedle some semblance of guilt out of his friend. 

It had the opposite effect. Sirius began laughing hysterically, loudly enough to draw attention from the other students in the hallway. 

Remus counted no less than four whistles, but it was the, “Looking good, Lupin!” from Gideon Prewett that finally did him in. 

“Fuck it,” he decided. “I’m going back to the dorm.”

4.

Another time Sirius drew on Remus was out of boredom. It was the middle of fifth year, and they were slowly being lectured to death in History of Magic. James and Peter were snoring on their desks while Remus frantically took notes (the only person barring Lily, he noted) with only his right hand since his left was currently being doodled on by his boyfriend of two weeks. 

To anyone else, it probably looked like Sirius was in the process of falling asleep on Remus’ hand since Sirius’ head was ducked low enough that his shoulder length hair formed an inky black puddle on the desk, but Remus knew the truth. 

Following a recent bad encounter with his brother, Sirius had been particularly anxious, and Remus was happy to be an outlet for his anxieties, even if that meant he would leave this class with drawings up and down his left arm. 

Remus glanced up during an especially boring period in the lecture that he was pretty sure Binns had said word for word the week before. 

Glancing at his arm revealed that he had been right; nearly the entire thing was covered in flowers: roses, hydrangeas, hyacinths, sunflowers, lilies, and - his breath caught - lupines; he even saw a Venus Fly Trap near his elbow. 

When Remus smiled and looked back up, it was to see Sirius smiling back. 

5.

A bit over two years later, Remus was reading on his bed and minding his own business when Sirius came bounding in like the dog he shared a body with. 

“Remus, Moony, baby, love of my life, I want to give you your birthday present now!” he announced, his several earrings flashing as he bounced around the dorm. This was rather odd as Remus’ birthday wasn’t for another three days. 

He could only imagine what sort of gift had Sirius so excited. Over the years, Sirius had given him books, chocolate, a squeaky dog toy, a mood ring, and, one memorable time, a single banana, so he felt rather justified in his decision to be weary over this year’s gift. He had also learned there was no use in trying to refuse it. That banana had turned brown very fast. 

He set his book aside. “All right, let’s see it,” he said, resigning himself to his fate. 

Quickly, Sirius sat down on the side of what had become their bed. “Are you ready?” Sirius asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, and this is only part of your present. You’ll get the rest at your party on your actual birthday. I just couldn’t wait.”

Remus smiled at him and made grabby hands. 

His boyfriend laughed. “Okay, so you can’t actually open this because it’s not really physical, but I swear you’ll like it.” He went to pull up his sleeve, and Remus finally understood. He leaned forward, his light brown curls falling in his eyes. It was a tattoo Sirius must have gotten for Remus. He felt oddly touched, though he didn’t know why. At 18, Sirius already had dozens of tattoos, several of which he had gotten for Remus, James, Peter, or all three. Remus had no idea why this one would be any different. 

When he finally got his sleeve up, Remus was still confused. In between his dog, stag, wolf, and rat wrist tattoo and the sun on his elbow were the phases of the moon wrapped around his forearm with the waning gibbous at its center. Why had Sirius felt the need to get that? The moon in and of itself was one of Remus’ least favorite things, and the waning gibbous wasn’t anything special. So what the fuck? He sat up straight. 

“You’re probably wondering why I chose this tattoo in particular,” Sirius said. 

Remus nodded, voicing his thoughts. “A bit, yeah.”

“Well wonder no longer,” Sirius responded, “for this tattoo is not as it seems.” He grinned. “It moves with the moon, so I’ll always know when the full is, no matter where we are.” 

“Oh my god,” Remus mumbled. 

Sirius glanced up at Remus sheepishly. “Do you like it?” he asked softly. 

There were tears welling in Remus’ eyes. “I love it, Sirius,” he said and hugged Sirius tightly. “Thank you.”

Sirius hugged him back no less tightly. “Of course, love.” They sat there for a moment. “James performed the actual spells, but I did the ink and drawings myself.”

Remus kissed his neck lightly. “That’s amazing, Sirius. It’s beautiful.” They sat there for a few minutes, breathing each other in. 

Remus pulled back and looked Sirius in the eyes. “Do you think you could do one more?”

Forty-five minutes later, Remus and Sirius were admiring Remus’ forearm freshly emblazoned with the Canis Major constellation. Sirius pointed at the biggest and brightest star. “That’s my favorite part,” he grinned. 

Remus chuckled. “Of course it is, you arrogant twat.”

Sirius kissed his cheek. “Love you, too, babe.”

+1

Exactly three months later, Remus slowly blinked himself awake as the sun lazily streamed into the dorm. Next to him, Sirius stirred. 

Remus pressed gentle kisses up and down his jawline until his eyes finally opened. “Good morning, love,” Remus murmured. 

“Morning,” Sirius mumbled back. “Time‘s it?” he asked groggily. 

“10:30,” Remus answered. “We don’t have to get up yet.” Sirius snored happily, snuggling back into the red comforter. 

Unfortunately, their lazy morning was soon interrupted by the booming voice of one James Potter. “Get up, you lazy sods! We have graduation practice in half an hour!” 

Oh, yes. That. Because graduation was in a week. And that was why they had today off. The seventh years got out of class a week before everyone else to have time to prepare for graduation, get their N.E.W.T results before they left, pack, and say their goodbyes. 

Sirius groaned. “Fuck off, Prongs!” Suddenly, James ripped open the curtain, eliciting a shriek from Sirius. Remus hid his face in Sirius’ neck, then paused. 

There was something on his neck. “What the hell,” he muttered, pulling away to peer at it. 

He stared, horrified. “Oh, Merlin.” He buried his face back into Sirius’ neck, careful to cover the several dark hickeys gracing the area. How the hell had that happened? Then he remembered. 

With James and Lily spending a date night in the Head Boy and Girl’s quarters and Peter passed out cold after, in his words, stealing enough food from the kitchens to last at least until he found a job, Remus and Sirius had taken advantage of the free night together, really seized it by the balls and skipped away with it. They’d had sex four times. Honestly, it was a wonder there weren’t more bruises. 

Then, James went to tear the blanket away from them, and both Remus and Sirius took it in a death grip. “James, you really don’t want to do that,” Sirius informed him dangerously. 

James’ eyes widened in realization. “You’re both naked?” Sirius nodded in confirmation. “Fine, just hurry up.” He walked away, defeated. 

Once he left, Sirius made a move to grab his clothes off the floor, but Remus stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Do we really have to go to graduation practice? I mean, isn’t it just walking across a stage after Dumbledore calls our names?” he asked, hoping Sirius would take the bait so that no one, including Sirius, would see the hickeys Remus had put there the night before. 

“Unfortunately, I think we have to go,” Sirius chuckled. “I would’ve thought you’d be the one trying to get me up faster.”

Remus groaned and tugged Sirius’ arm. “Come back,” he lamented. 

“What’s up with you?” Sirius asked, still laughing. “Come on, let me up.”

Remus held on tighter. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Sirius asked, finally sensing there was something else going on. “This isn’t like you.”

“‘M fine,” he grumbled. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he released his boyfriend’ arm. 

“Thank you,” Sirius said as he pulled his clothes on. 

Remus grumbled. “Hand me my clothes, please.” He sputtered as Sirius threw his clothes on his face. 

Then, a few seconds later, Remus heard from the bathroom, “Merlin-Remus! The fuck did you do?” 

Slowly dressing himself as he untangled his clothes from his head, he said, “I may have gotten a little carried away last night.” 

“A little carried away! My whole neck is purple!” Sirius called back. 

“It’s not your whole neck. Just most of the side,” Remus said. 

“All right, you really need to get up now,” James said, bursting into the dorm for the second time that morning. “We have to be on the grounds in-oh, Merlin,” he finished, slack jawed. “Moony, were you trying to eat him?” he said, flabbergasted. 

“Fuck both of you,” Remus said, emerging from the bed having finally gotten a shirt and pants on. 

James grinned, obviously about to say something stupid. “I think that’s your job.”

Sirius barked a laugh, still staring at his neck. “That’s an understatement! Look at this. He practically claimed me!” 

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Remus remarked. He went and grabbed a quill. “Come here.”

Sirius looked at the quill and shrugged, walking over to Remus. James looked at him oddly. “There’s no way he can make it worse,” Sirius explained. 

Remus snickered. He had no idea. 

At the base of the bruises, Remus wrote in his small, messy script, Property of Remus Lupin. 

“Oh my god, Moony!” James exclaimed. “Why?” he laughed. 

“What, what did he write?” Sirius ran back to the bathroom mirror. He stared for a moment. “You know, I kind of like it.”

James sighed. “Alright, you perverts, let’s go so everyone can see exactly what you did last night.”

Sirius smirked at Remus. “Same time tonight?”

“Of course.” He smiled, then laughed as James groaned and ushered them out the door. 

“That’s it. Time to go!”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfic #5+1 things #my fic #my writing #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #sirius black #james potter #marauders #marauders era #sirius draws on remus #change my mind

[fireinmoonshot]

posessive hand holding n angry kisses w druig??

A/N: You all seemed to like the last piece I wrote about Druig making reader jealous... so here's some jealous Druig for you! <3

He wasn’t jealous. He was unbothered.

That was what he told himself the first time he saw you talking to Ikaris during dinner.

The second time, it was just bitterness that you weren’t talking to him.

The third time, it had turned a little into anger that you were ignoring him.

It absolutely wasn’t jealousy. Druig wasn’t a jealous person. He really wasn’t. He was calm and mostly rational and he kept his head screwed on tight. There was no reason for him to be jealous of the fact that you were getting very close to Ikaris lately. None at all.

Especially considering the way you two had already been dating for over 700 years. You’d already confessed your love to one another, and everyone else knew that – Ikaris included.

The thing was, it was entirely possible to fall out of love. Druig had noticed Sersi and Ikaris drifting apart these days, so maybe it was happening with you, too. You were drifting towards Ikaris and away from Druig. The thought set his teeth on edge.

The fourth time it happened, Druig allowed himself to think that he might be a little jealous. He was sat watching you talking to Ikaris across the room, the way your body was turned towards him, entirely engrossed in the conversation. There was a look of serious concentration on your face and a smile on Ikaris’ lips.

Druig had to intervene.

He stood up and manoeuvred his way through the room until he reached the pair of you. Neither of you looked up at his appearance as he sat down beside you. It was instinct and a little bit of jealously that made him reach over and take your hand in his, effectively inserting himself into the conversation without saying a word.

You stopped in the middle of your sentence and glanced back at him.

“Oh, hello,” you smiled at the sight of your boyfriend.

Ikaris gave a nod of his head. “Druig.”

In return, Druig didn’t so much as look at Ikaris. “Can I borrow you?” He asked, though it wasn’t much of a question and was much more of a statement. He’d already decided that he would be borrowing you.

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed. “I’ll be back in a bit, Ikaris.”

Ikaris watched, slightly amused at Druig’s obviously jealous behaviour, as he led you away from where you’d been sitting. He was still holding your hand tightly, not planning on letting it go any time soon.

You walked until you left the building, stepping outside into the warm summer air.

“What’s going on?” You asked as Druig finally stopped walking.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, entirely unaware of the way he was feeling. Bitter, a little bit angry, a little bit hurt and confused and a tiny smidge jealous.

You let out a small laugh. “C’mon, tell me what was so important, Druig.”

Druig stared at you for a few more moments, watching as you watched him, confused and a little bit amused. The smile on your face, the way your hair moved in the slightly warm breeze that occasionally drifted by.

He advanced towards you, pushing you back against the wall of the building, hands moving to cup your cheeks as he kissed you. His kiss was rough, passionate and… angry? You were confused as you kissed him back, yet you did so anyway. He’d always been a good kisser, but he’d also always known where to draw the line between too rough and too gentle. You could feel that he was diving a little over the line today.

When he pulled away from you, he rested his forehead on yours. You were both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath, when he finally spoke.

“Are you fallin’ out of love with me?” His voice was quiet.

“Am I– what?” You breathed.

He repeated himself a little more forcefully. “If you are, just tell me.”

Confusion left you lost for words. What the hell was he talking about? You, falling out of love with him was just about the most impossible, unbelievable and ridiculous thing you’d ever heard him say before.

You gently removed his hands from the side of your face and stepped away from him, needing a little bit of space to get your mind back in order. Sitting down on the small brick wall leading into the bar, you stared up at him.

“Druig, what on earth would make you think I don’t love you anymore?”

He turned, leaning up against the wall where you’d been only moments before. “Since you don’t seem to know, I suppose I’ll have to enlighten you,” he huffed. “You and Ikaris. Hanging out all the time. Spending all these hours together, talking, talking, talking. Swear you spend more time with him than you do with me these days. It isn’t rocket science to figure that out, now is it?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, yet you also found yourself wanting to start laughing at the same time. Ikaris? Druig thought you were in love with Ikaris. It was baffling.

“Don’t laugh,” Druig spotted the look on your face. “He’s having trouble with Sersi, y’know? He’s probably looking at you like his next conquest, despite the fact that he knows you and I have been together for years. Always disliked me a bit, he has.”

Sighing, you stood up and stepped towards him, taking his hands in yours.

“Ikaris and Sersi are having problems. That is why I’ve been spending so much time with him, but not for the reason you think,” you started. “He just wants relationship advice. He saw that we’ve been together for so long without many problems and wanted to know if I had any advice. And we’ve been talking every dinner about it because it helps him, having someone else to talk to about it. Someone with relationship experience.”

Druig stared at you, unmoving and unblinking.

You moved to sling your arms over his shoulders. “It’s cute that you were jealous, but you don’t have to be. You have always had my heart, and you always will. For as long as you want it, it’s yours.”

He scoffed. “I was not jealous.”

“You were definitely jealous.”

“I was not. I was reasonably concerned that the love of my life was leaving me.”

“That’s jealousy, Druig.”

“It isn’t! I’m not cute, either. And I wasn’t–”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. His hands instinctively moved to your hips as he kissed you back. The kiss was less forceful this time. More like the ones you usually shared, like all the comforts of home.

“Next time you wanna kiss me like that, all angry and passionate like you did before,” you muttered, pulling away. “Can you at least give me a warning?”

Druig nodded, leaning in to kiss you once more. Your lips felt like home to him. His angry kiss before had all been him trying to see if he still felt like home to you. And he did.

“Now,” you stepped back from him. “I think you owe Ikaris an apology for your blunt attitude when you dragged me away from him mid-conversation.”

He rolled his eyes and took your hand in his again, entwining your fingers together. “Never gonna happen, my love.”

#druig #eternals #marvel #druig x reader #marvel x reader #eternals x reader #druig x you #marvel x you #druig imagine

[sukunasbabymama]

1UP, pt. 3.

└ Pairing. Chifuyu Matsuno, Kakucho Hitto, Shinichiro Sano.

└ Summary. Reaction to a pick me girl trying to one up his S/O?

└ Warnings. My ugly ass comebacks, Kaku’s threat.

└ Note. I didn’t put Mitsuya and Rindou because I have already made them in the first and second 1up. Also, it’s aged up!characters.

Request.

Chifuyu Matsuno.

I just want to know what’s wrong with the girl because it is known that Chifuyu doesn't play about his special ones. And it’s worse when it comes to you.

Not only is she insufferable but she’s pushy. She takes every single moment to try to get on your nerves, when your man is not around.

Until one day he is around and she tries with him.

“Is that breed of cats expensive?” She says pointing at the cat in Chifuyu’s hands, leaning on the counter in a way that her chest is exposed.

“It is, but we don’t sell them here. This is the manager of the shop.” He says happily. “You can adopt here, if you want.”

“And what if I want that one…? Would you let me adopt it?” She says in a sultry tone, you look from where you were busy organizing all the bills from that morning.

“No ma’am, I already said he’s the manager of the shop. We adopted him a long time ago.” Chifuyu says, putting the cat on the counter and scratching his ears. The girl slides a single finger from his hand to his elbow, making sure it scratches him softly. He looks at her seriously now. “Girl, go play with Kazutora, you have better chances at winning with him.”

“Don’t use my kindness to get rid of this pushy person.” Kazutora groans. “She can play the lottery, if she wants to win something.”

Mortified, she just turns around and gets out of the shop. She stops coming back after that.

Kakucho Hitto.

It doesn’t matter the amount of tricks the girls that hang out with Bonten want to play on you, they can’t bring you to bat an eye.

Hell, they can’t even bring your man to bat an eye at their little shenanigans.

That is, until they start actively lying. You see, he can ignore them when they try to take the attention away from you since you don’t even like to be the center of attention anyways.

But he draws the line at lying on his name or yours. It doesn’t matter if you know the truth.

“I like to see you all happy around Bonten, not knowing where your husband spends his nights.” A particular girl tells you, missing the fact that Kakucho is behind her.

“You sleep with my husband?” You ask her in a bored tone. She nods cockily. “So do I.”

She freezes when she feels a light tap on her shoulder. She turns around and starts to tremble when he takes a step and gets all in her personal space.

“Where exactly do I spend my nights?” He asks her in a low tone, taking her face in his hand, not too rough, but enough to make her lips puck from his grip. “Uh?”

“S-sir p-please…” She stutters and you laugh.

“How do you sleep with my husband when you can’t even face him when he’s a little serious?” You mock, walking past them and sliding your hand teasingly on Kakucho’s abdomen. “Let it go, love.”

“Get on her path again and see where you’re really going to spend a night.” He grunts, letting her go and jogging to get on your side.

Shinichiro Sano.

The thing here is… he’s so in love with you that a pick me girl doesn’t even have the chance to make you jealous with him.

Everybody around him can see that they are trying to take his attention in order to get you mad, but he can’t, cause he’s already watching you.

That’s the reason why you can’t bring yourself to actually get mad or jealous.

“Right, let’s go to the beach.” Benkei says, since y’all were trying to choose where to go at the moment.

“That sounds nice.” Shinichiro says, walking to his bike.

“I want to ride with Shin-chan!” A girl says, knowing about Shinichiro’s past reputation with girls. Past.

“My girl is gonna ride with me.” He smiles politely.

“Come on, Shin~” The girl whines, attempting to touch his arm but he lifts his hands.

“I’m sorry miss, I just like being touched by my girl.” He smiles politely again. “So she’s the only one allowed to ride with me.”

“You heard him. Back off.” Wakasa says in a bored tone, at the same time you happily walk and get comfy behind your boyfriend, hugging him and on his bike. You smile at the girl with a knowing smile.

You lose.

🏷: @satmitsuplanet @milliumizoomi @dai-tsukki-desu @haitanigigi @yunho-leeknow @melaninnntae @keimisan @welkinmoongrab @plutosexc @ccxiia @manjiroarchiviste @aasouthteranoswife @crushsoli @gwynsapphire @eriskaitto @crapimahuman @inu1gf @q-the-rockaholic @the2ndl @sscarchiyo @lordbugs @izanasqueen @nevess @ravenina14

#☽. kk writes #tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #shinichiro imagines #sano shinichiro #shinichiro sano #shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers shinichiro #hitto kakucho #kakucho hcs #kakucho #kakucho fluff #kakucho x reader #tokyo revengers kakucho #chifuyu headcanons #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff #tokyo revengers chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu hcs

[xoxo-teddybear]

Denied - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, Crack, slice of life

Summary: Bakugou taught Eri how to swear....Y/N found out.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

For the past 2 weeks, Mr. Aizawa had been having staff meetings back to back and as a result, you and Bakugou have been babysitting Eri. Or more so, you have been babysitting Eri but Bakugou being your boyfriend, he’s usually around. Don’t worry though, like the good boyfriend he is, he usually helps.

Over time, Eri has grown very fond of you and Katsuki. Matter of fact, she loved you both so much, the second she found out you two were dating, she ended up calling you “Mom” and “Dad.” It was adorable, really, and the entire class saw the 3 of you as a little family. Bakugou couldn’t fight the blush that grew on his face everytime Eri called him “Dad” but he got used to it. Now, the two of you even refer to her as your daughter.

Now being around the little girl so much, she has grown to copy some of your behavior and traits. For example, she takes after your love for dance and singing. She’s also learned to play with makeup after watching you apply it so many times. With Bakugou, she’s learned how to defend herself more and be a little more confident. Sadly, she is exposed to his vulgar mouth and attitude and therefore picks up on that a lot. And once you found out, hell broke loose.

—

It was a casual Saturday at the dorms. Some students went home for the weekend while a lot happened to stay behind. Visiting the dorms was sweet little Eri and you were currently having a little play date with her in the common area. Usually, Bakugou would be there with you and her but he’s having his bro time with the boys of the Bakusquad. Understandable. Just means more Eri for you.

Eri was currently drawing a little doodle on some scrap paper while you snacked on apple slices and played on your phone. The white haired girl was filling in her yellow sun when she accidentally split the paper.

“Shit.” She cussed. She didn’t cry at the ruined drawing but she did sigh in disappointment before grabbing a fresh piece of paper.

You on the other hand choked on your fruit slice once your heard the word come out of her mouth. You didn’t bother asking her where she learned the new word. You already knew.

“Eri, sweetie. Stay here for a sec’ okay? I’m gonna go find Dad and talk to him for a bit.” You said with a smile as you got up from your seat on the couch.

“Dad? Ouu, can I go too? I wanna see Dad.” She said with excitement. You smiled at her cute behaviour and ran your fingers through her hair.

“Sorry love, but Dad is in trouble right now. He doesn’t deserve to see his precious little Eri.” You said. She laughed and nodded her head before going back to her drawing. You walked away and once you were out of sight, you dropped your smile and a pair of angry eyes along with a scowl formed on your face. “Oh, Daddy is in so much trouble.”

—

Bakugou was currently in his dorm room with Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari. They were all going at it with each other on Mario Kart until Bakugou’s spidey senses started kicking in.

“Do you guys feel that?” He asked, stopping his movements on the controller. He looked towards the door and he could hear faint footsteps coming towards them.

“What’re you talking about bro?” Kirishima asked as he stopped his game to look at his friend. Kaminari did the same and grew nervous at the frantic look on Bakugou’s face.

“Woah! What’s with that look?” Kaminari asked the shaking man. Bakugou was trembling as he had an idea of who was coming.

“I’m gonna die,” the ash blonde whispered out but still remained loud enough for his friends to hear.

“B-Bakugou! What’s going on?!” Sero asked as he stood up.

“S-Somethings coming!” Bakugou shouted in fear. His friends watched as the bravest guy in the world stood in fear and trembled as he carefully watched the door. Loud footsteps could be heard coming closer and closer and so naturally out of fear, the 3 hid behind the blonde who owned the room.

“What is?!” Kirishima asked.

“Something lethal!” Bakugou replied in fear as he took a step back. The footsteps got louder and louder causing the friends to freak out even more.

“What is coming?! BAKUGOU, WHAT IS COMING?!” Kaminari shouted in fear.

“The devil herself..” The footsteps got louder, got closer, until eventually..they stopped. The 4 friends watched the door until it was busted open to reveal and angry Y/N. “My girlfriend....EXCEPT SHE’S PISSED!”

“KATSUKI BAKUGOU!” You screamed at the trembling blonde who was in front of his cowering friends.

“Wait, wait, wait!” The blonde shouted with his hands up. “....Can I get a head start?”

“Denied.” You bluntly said.

“Figures. RUN!” Bakugou said to his friends. With the dorm room being so small, the 4 friends had nowhere to go. In a bold move, they ran to the exit that you were currently standing in and pushed you out of the way, breaking free from your sight.

“Pathetic.” You said and slanted your eyes at the friends as they ran down the hall. You followed after them and chased them all around the dormitory. From the 4th floor, to the 3rd, to the staircase, to the 1st floor (avoiding Eri), and back up to the 2nd.

The friends all ran together in a group, thinking there would be safety in numbers. They ran together for a good amount of time before a realization came to Kaminari.

“Wait a minute! She’s not after us! She’s pissed at Bakugou!” The electric blonde said while running.

“So, what? Do we ditch him?” Sero asked while they all continued to run.

“Yes!” Kaminari said. The wanted blonde looked to the other blonde in anger.

“What?! You idiots can’t just abandon me!” He said. Kaminari was going to respond until they heard a voice behind them.

“Katsuki!” You screamed. The friends turned around as they continued to run and saw you right on their tail.

“AHHHH!!!!” They all screamed.

“Sorry man! We like living!” Kirishima said.

“Well so do I!” The blonde replied. His best friend just shrugged his shoulders before answering.

“SCATTER!” He said to the other 2 and Bakugou’s 3 friends all went separate ways. Just like they planned, you ignored them and followed your boyfriend’s trail.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK! FU-“

“SHUT UP KATSUKI!” You said before jumping onto him and tacking him to the ground. You pinned your boyfriend to the floor and he didn’t even open his eyes to look at you.

“ImSorryForEverythingIDidISwearI’llFindAWayToMakeItUpToYouTeddyBear,YouAreTheLoveOfMyLifeAndYou’reSoBeautifulAndILoveTheOutfitYou’reWearing,YouLookBeautifulInEverythingPrincess,I’mSorryIBrokeYourGivenchySunglassesAndBlamedItOnDunceFaceI’llBuyYouNewOnes,ISwear!ILoveYou!” He blurted out with his head facing the other way to ‘dodge’ your attack he assumed you were going to throw.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before getting off of Bakugou and helping him stand to his feet. “Okay, first of all, thank you for the compliments and I love you too baby,” you said and pecked his cheek. “Second, the reason why I’m so mad is because Eri learned a new word today. She fucked up the paper she was drawing on, and cussed. I wonder where she picked that up from..Katsuki.”

Your boyfriend only laughed nervously while shrugging and you sighed some more while throwing your head back. “Okay look, I would punish you, but I’m too tired from all that running and I’m pretty sure all the adrenaline and fear you were feeling before is punishment enough.”

The blonde nodded his head quickly like a puppy trying to agree.

“Just, don’t do it again Suki. Please? At least try to restrain yourself around Eri.” You said. Bakugou nodded again and you huffed before opening your arms up for him. He smiled and quickly took the offering. He held you in his embrace and peppered your face in quick kisses.

“Thank you!” He replied with gratitude. You smiled at him and took his hand to lead him to the common rooms. He happily followed and took a seat on the couch with you, where Eri finally noticed his presence.

“Mom! Dad! You’re back!” Your “daughter” said as she jumped the two of you on the couch. Bakugou pulled her into his lap so you could all be together.

“Listen kid, there’s gonna be a few words that’ll occasionally slip out of my mouth from time to time and it’s important for you to not say them. Okay?” Bakugou said to the little girl.

“Okay! But what are the words?” She asked him. Bakugou just chuckled and placed a hand on her head before speaking.

“We’ll speak about that next time, for now just get back to playing.” He said.

“Okay!” Was all she said before jumping off his lap and going back to her crayons. You scooted closer to Katsuki and squeezed his hand that you were still holding. This grabbed his attention and he turned and placed a quick kiss on your lips before throwing his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his touch and you both cuddled up on the couch. Some time passed and you both talked, watched Eri, and played around with her until you two cuddled up again and you turned to ask him a question.

“So...about my Givenchy Sunglasses,” you questioned him. Bakugou froze up in fear again before releasing a nervous chuckle.

“Hehe...”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101

#bakugo x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x y/n #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou #katsuki x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia bakugou #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #boku no hero academia #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #boku no hero bakugou #bakugou angst #bakugo angst

[swordgayist]

cultural appropriation in ATLA (hinduism edition)

i’m sure there’s already a ton of posts about this, but whatever, i’m still making one idc. 

ATLA’s cultural appropriation, everyone knows about it, the white people don’t speak about it, and the asian and indigenous people get ignored. we know the cycle. but i wanted to come here and highlight some of the most prominent examples of ATLA abusing hinduism, as i am kinda sorta hindu (i was raised in a hindu household, i go to chinmaya mission, that kinda shit). i might forget some things so keep that in mind.

this is gonna be divided into 3 main sections, since there are different ways that they disrespect hinduism that i don’t wanna lump together.

and i’d say i know a lot about hinduism but that doesn’t make me an expert, obviously, so if other hindus have anything to add and/or correct then please do !! and if anyone else wants to share how their cultures were appropriated then please do that as well !!

so let’s get started shall we?

appropriating hinduism

1) the avatar

we’ll start with the most obvious example: the avatar itself

i know that there are parts of the avatar mythos that are taken from other cultures as well but the idea of the avatar itself is primarily from hinduism.

basically in hinduism, the term dashavatara refers to the 10 reincarnations of lord vishnu (the god of preservation), with avatar(a) meaning form or incarnation in sanskrit, and das(a) meaning ten. it was said that whenever the world was out of balance, lord vishnu would come down to earth in a certain form to restore balance. Each reincarnation is considered a different life with a different story. the avatars of lord vishnu are often considered the saviors of the world.

so basically, the central idea of the show and the actual name of the show is largely based on hinduism.

2) chakras

many different indian religions have a concept of chakras (chakra meaning wheel or circle in sanskrit), but hinduism is the one that primarily preaches the system of seven chakras, the version used in ATLA.

chakras connect the physical body to the ‘subtle’ body (referring more to the spirit and the psyche) by connecting parts of the body to aspects of the mind. the idea is that through different forms of steady meditation you can manipulate the different chakras and allow the pure flow of energy through the body.

the whole idea of chakras on ATLA is that aang has to unblock them all to let the cosmic energy flow through him so that he can go into the avatar state at will. so yeah, pretty much that whole idea was taken from hinduism.

3) terminologies

these are just a few terms that were taken from hinduism. i’m pretty sure there are more that i can’t think of right now but yeah.

“agni” kai 

i’ll be honest i don’t know where the ‘kai’ part is from, i don’t think it’s from hinduism but if it is well fuck me i guess.  ‘agni’ in hinduism is the god of fire, so the creators used it in ‘agni kai’, the name for a firebending duel.

“bumi”

this is in reference to the hindu word for ‘earth’, which is bhoomi. this is also in reference to our goddess of earth, bhoomi devi. also this doesn’t really bother me but i wonder if the creators knew that bhoomi is a name typically used for women (as are most hindi names ending in ‘i’/‘ee’).

in general, concepts like having multiple complex gods (the spirits) who are capable of good and evil and the reincarnation cycle are prominent in a lot of asian cultures, including (and arguably primarily) hinduism.

mocking hinduism

now we get into the mockery of hinduism in ATLA, because it is very much there.

1) whoever the fuck that baboon guy in the spirit world was

now what the fuck was this.

i mean i wouldn’t say this is the most egregious example of them making fun of brown people but lord why did this even need to be there? this random guy from the spirit world has an indian accent ? and is fervently chanting ‘om’ for some reason, and it’s clearly meant to be seen as comical. also portraying brown people as monkeys....... really.

2) combustion man/sparky sparky boom man

when rewatching ATLA in 2019 i actually had no idea that this was a thing, because the last time i had watched it was as a kid and i didn’t finish it.

so lord was i in for a surprise when i saw...

now... now what.

if you didn’t know, combustion man’s ‘third eye’ is designed to replicate the hindu god of destruction, lord shiva. right down to the vibhuti on his forehead (referring to the three line markings around the third eye).

in hinduism, lord shiva’s third eye is used to reduce people to ashes, though as far as i can recall, not very frequently. the primary significance of the third eye is that it represents the ability of higher spiritual thought and higher consciousness.

the ATLA writers take the ACTUAL significance of the third eye, throw it out the window, and then take its destructive abilities to make a super duper cool and dangerous new firebending technique.

and if that wasn’t bad enough, the actual person who uses this technique, and is meant to emulate a GOD who is PRAISED, is a scary, burly, half metal man who is a villain and an assassin. not to mention the design of his facial hair replicates that super duper scary “terrorist” depiction of brown people, particularly of muslims, that white people are so thoroughly terrified of for no reason. 

this is a parody of a god, and they portrayed him as this terrifying, maniacal fucking assassin who, along with p’li, the combustion bender from LOK, is constantly referred to as a “third-eyed freak”. i’ve made this analogy before and i’ll do it again, this is like making jesus into a hitman.

now onto my favorite example...

3) guru pathik

ah, this motherfucker.

i don’t really have any problems with him as a character, i mean hell, must’ve taken a fuck ton of patience to handle aang’s “why would choose cosmic energy over katara” bullshit.

but we all know it, we see it plain as day, don’t even try to deny it.

“guru” literally just means teacher or guide, so i don’t really know why pathik needed to be referred to as “guru” so distinctively from aang’s other teachers and guides, but that’s just extremely trivial compared to all the other issues with this character.

first of all what is this character design? what is he even wearing? if they’re trying to replicate the clothes of swamis and priests and stuff this is already wrong, realized people don’t dress like this. and why the fuck does he have an indian accent? and why was this indian accent done by a non indian (brian george)?

once again, the poor but extremely heavy indian accent is clearly meant to be mocking, if it wasn’t, they wouldn’t’ve gone out of their way to get a non indian person to DO an indian accent, and instead they would’ve just gotten an actual indian person to play the role. 

and oh yeah, the onion and banana juice. because hindus just eat weird shit right.

whether it’s actually weird or not, the show certainly portrays it as weird. and as far as i know no hindu actually fucking drinks onion and banana juice.

ironic because brown people can absolutely destroy white people in cooking. but i digress.

i know what you’re all waiting for. because the guru apparently didn’t have enough fun with guru pathik, so they just had to come back to him in book 3:

where do i begin.

so this is obviously john o’bryan’s super funny and hilarious depiction of pathik as a hindu god.

usually when a god has multiple arms it’s to carry an array of things, from flowers to weapons to instruments, and one hand is typically free to bless devotees (ie. goddess durga and lord vishnu respectively):

but of course white people see this as weird and so they make fun of it, hence guru pathik having multiple arms just flailing about aimlessly (save for the two that are being used to carry the aforementioned onion and banana juice).

then there’s the whole light behind pathik’s head which is usually depicted in drawings of hindu gods to show that they are celestial.

also what the fuck is he holding? is that supposed to be a veena? because this is what a veena looks like:

and i assume the reason this was added was to mock the design of goddess saraswathi, who carries a veena:

but that right there in the picture of pathik looks more like a tambura than a veena. 

and it also just kinda looks like a banjo?

but i guess the animators just searched up “long indian instrument” and slapped it on there. actually no, that’s giving them too much credit, they probably didn’t search it up at all. 

and then the actual scene is pathik singing crazily about chakras tasting good or something while playing the non-veena and it’s all supposed to be some funky crazy hallucination that aang is having due to sleep deprivation. just some crazy dream, just as crazy as talking appa and momo sparring with swords or tree-ozai coming to life.

our gurus and swamis and sadhus and generally realized people are very respected in hinduism, they’re people we look up to and honor very much. and our GODS are beings that we literally worship. and the writers just take both and make caricatures out of them for other white people to laugh at.

4) other shit

before we move to the next portion i just wanna mention there are also smaller backhanded jabs that i can’t really remember now, but one example was when zuko was all “we’ll be sure to remember that, guru goody goody”. or when a character would meditate and say “om” only when the meditation is supposed to be portrayed as comical or pointless. or in bitter work when sokka was rambling on about karma. small things like that. but moving on.

south asian representation, or lack thereof

now i finally get to the “losing” hinduism part. by this i mean the lack of actual representation there is of south asians (the region where hinduism is primarily practiced) despite the fact that hinduism plays such a big role in the show’s world design.

i think it’s safe to say that broadly the main cast consists of aang, katara, sokka, zuko, toph, azula, iroh, mai, ty lee, and suki. 

a grand total of none of these characters are south asian. the writers don’t even attempt to add any south asian main characters. 

there are characters with dark skin, like haru and jet, but a) they’re not confirmed to be south asian and don’t have any south asian features or south asian names, b) they’re side characters, so they don’t count as representation, and c) even if they were south asian and main characters, jet wouldn’t even count because he’s portrayed as a terrorist.

the ONLY truly south asian character we get is fucking guru pathik. so yeah. not representation.

i don’t get how the creators of this show rip off of hinduism (among many other south asian cultures they rip off of), mock indians, and then don’t even have the decency to HAVE a main character who is south asian.

i’ve never gotten a chance to compile all this, and this definitely isn’t all the creators have done, but i hope this was somewhat informative.

#atla #cultural appropriation #hinduism #guru pathik #combustion man #chakras #avatar

[too-gay-for-marvel]

just this once pt.4

a/n: shes LORGE

Word Count: 5,031

Warnings: smut implications, canon typical violence, mentions of blood, non-graphic assassination

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

“You gonna cum for me, Talia?”

“Need another mission?” Nick asked, shaking Natasha out of a memory. Her eyes darted around for a split second and noted that the meeting was over.

She had missed the last half of the briefing.

“No,” Natasha shook her head, immediately getting up and attempting to rush out past Nick.

“Well that’s a shame,” Nick continued, moving to the doorway and completely blocking Natasha’s retreat. “I needed a legendary assassin to accompany a local fish.”

“Not a fish,” Natasha replied, far too quick for her to stop herself.

“Funny, that’s the exact same thing she said,” Nick said with a smile before crossing his arms over his chest.

Natasha knew she had lost; she hadn’t really had any hope that she would win anyway. If Nick wanted her to do something, she was going to end up doing it, and that was that. She motioned her head for him to walk with her, and his smile grew. Asshole.

“I need you to take out a target,” Nick said as if there had never been any lull in the conversation.

“Who?” Natasha asked. They reached the elevator and she pressed the button to go up to the gym. Nick pressed the button for his office.

“Jake Porter.” He handed a manila folder to Natasha. It was heavy.

“Says he’s SHIELD?” Natasha asked as she quickly flipped through page after page.

“He is,” Nick nodded, looking down at Natasha. “He’s also the snitch from your last mission.”

Natasha nodded, trying to ignore some vital parts of that mission. She had managed to avoid you for a few months again, but she should have known better than to think it would have lasted forever. It seemed almost as if the world was conspiring against her.

“If it’s a hit, why is Y/N going?” Natasha asked, slamming the manila folder closed as aggressively as possible. It ended up just folding back over at an embarrassingly slow pace.

“He���s hiding in an underwater safe house.”

Of course he is.

“When do we leave?” Natasha asked as the elevator doors opened to Nick’s floor.

“In two hours,” Nick said as he walked forward, not even caring enough to look back.

Natasha sighed once the elevator doors slid shut again. A knot formed in her throat and stuck, forcing her to focus on each individual breath. Something was trying to claw it’s way out of her chest; she could only keep it at bay for so long. There would be hell to pay if it ever came forward.

“Is that not cannibalism?”

“No, it’s lunch.”

The voices pushed past the elevator doors before they were fully open, and Natasha couldn’t help the small smile that graced her lips. Both you and Yelena were sitting at the bar, trays of sushi and cups of tea in front of you. Your mouth was full and you weren’t even looking at Yelena, yet she continued to raise her brow at you in disbelief.

“You’re a fish, that’s fish. It’s cannibalism,” Yelena continued, but you shook your head and picked up another piece.

“Not a fish,” Natasha replied for you. The corner of your mouth tilted up and there was a slight shift in your gills, but Yelena just rolled her eyes.

“You two are disgusting,” Yelena mumbled to herself. “Shouldn’t you be planning a honeymoon or something?”

The room went cold. Your head tilted down until you were hunched over your sushi, picking the pieces apart with your chopsticks. There was a tenseness to your jaw that had to have been painful, but it didn’t ease up. Yelena shifted in her seat and looked down at the ground.

“It’s on hold,” Natasha shrugged, desperately wanting to get off the topic.

“Oh right,” Yelena nodded, already back to her usual demeanour. “You’ve got cold feet.”

“I don’t- I don’t have cold feet,” Natasha took a slight step back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Life is just busy.”

“Busy as in you don’t want to-”

“Did you down here for a reason?” You asked, throwing Natasha and Yelena off of their argument. You were still meticulously picking the sushi apart, rice grain by rice grain.

“We’ve got a mission,” Natasha said curtly. “We leave in two hours.”

“Okay,” you said as you stood up from the bar, towering over Natasha for only a moment before walking off. “See you then.”

“Why do they always leave me to clean up their mess,” Yelena groaned, and Natasha turned to see the mess of your sushi.

Instead of answering, Natasha just gave Yelena a wink and walked away. She has a mission to get ready for.

———

“Can you please turn the fucking heater on?” You shouted from the back for what had to have been the 12th time in the past 10 minutes. The pilot ignored you.

“If you’re cold, put on a jacket,” Natasha repeated. Your sigh could have been heard all the way back in New York.

But when she glanced up, she felt a knot form in her throat. Your thermal suit was clearly not doing anything for you as you pulled what looked to be a third jacket over your shaking shoulders. Blood was showing under your cheeks, and your gills were pulled in tight.

“There’s a space heater in the safe house,” Natasha said softly. You finally looked up and met her eyes.

As soon as your eyes narrowed in on her, she felt time stop. A heat started in her cheeks and spread to her neck and chest. It was as if you were looking into her, so deep that you could find the parts of her she didn’t even know about. Something about that look, something that dug into her core and left her feeling empty as soon as you looked away.

“I’ll freeze to death before then,” you mumbled before tearing your gaze away; you tore a hole through Natasha’s heart in the process.

For the rest of the flight, the only noise was the sound of your chattering teeth. It echoed through the quinjet and Natasha felt the beginning pangs of a migraine popping up in her head. If you didn’t stop soon, she was going to be driven into a homicidal rage.

“Hovering in five,” the pilot finally yelled out, and Natasha stood up quickly with the hopes that the faster she moved, the faster she could get away from the incessant staccato clacking of your teeth.

You stood up after a moment, standing far enough away from Natasha that she couldn’t feel your warmth. But you were still close enough for her to notice the shakiness spreading down your limbs. The way your harpoon jingled on your belt as your body was wracked with the occasional spasm. And yet you put on a brave face and braced for the mission.

“My mask has an hour of oxygen,” Natasha said, already pulling said mask onto her face. “Think we can finish by then?”

“Sh-shouldn’t t-take that long,” you stuttered, teeth shivering between words. “Short d-dive.”

“Opening the cargo door,” the pilot yelled, and just as he said, the cargo door opened and you both stared out into the dark, icy water.

“Age before beauty,” Natasha teased as she gestured out at the water.

“Very f-funny,” you chattered again, but followed her direction and stepped off the cargo door and into the freezing water below.

Natasha was quick to follow suit, wanting to get the dreadful part over as quickly as possible. The very instant her feet touched the water, a painful shock travelled across her skin, sinking deep into her bones. Her fingers reacted slowly when she tried to clench her fist.

“Let’s go,” you said through your comms, and Natasha managed to see you just in time before you disappeared into the inky darkness.

It was like Natasha was swimming through jello. No matter how much she willed her limbs to move, her body to keep going, it seemed she slowed down with each stroke. The water around her started to close in, each breath drawing the pressure closer. Her lungs were on fire and her heart was pounding too hard and the darkness was closing in and she needed out.

There was the whisper of a touch on her arm before she felt herself being yanked upward, finally soaring through the water like she had wanted. In a heartbeat the water released her, the pressure disappearing far faster than it had appeared. She yanked her mask off and inhaled deeply, ignoring the way her lungs screamed at her to stop.

“Trying to get yourself killed?” You asked, and Natasha finally took notice of your hand wrapped around her bicep.

“It was too dark,” Natasha replied, her tongue feeling heavy and slow.

“You didn’t answer the comms,” you continued, “I thought you had gotten lost.”

There was venom to your words. Natasha looked up and managed to calm her shaking enough to see the fire in your eyes, the clenching of your jaw, the freshly picked spots on your bottom lip. Your hand was gripped tight enough that if Natasha had any circulation left in her arm, it would’ve been cut off.

And she didn’t care.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Natasha said, finally yanking her arm out of your grasp. “You stay here for the getaway.”

You nodded and jumped back into the moon pool, already nothing more than a memory. Natasha wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. She shook her head and took off down the corridor, already on the hunt for her target.

It was easy. Far too easy. He was in his room, door unlocked, music far too loud for him to hear anyone come in. A single shot to the back of the head, and the mission was over. Now all she really needed to do was head back to the moon pool and then you could both get to the safe house and warm up.

Except for the small, itty bitty insignificant fact that the base was set to self destruct once Porter’s vitals stopped.

As soon as the sirens started to echo through the base, Natasha was sprinting down the halls. She didn’t know how much time was left, didn’t care, she just needed the both of you to get as far away as possible before you were stuck in the rubble. Natasha turned the last corner and saw you standing on the edge of the moon pool.

“A little faster, please?” You yelled, grabbing Natasha’s arm and pulling her into the water, giving her barely enough time to pull her oxygen mask back on.

You didn’t let go of her arm as you started cutting through the water. She could feel the blood pulling back from her limbs and pooling back in her core, and she felt like dead weight. Your momentum slowed as you pulled her up and wrapped your arm around her waist.

But then the muffled sirens stopped, and you both turned around just in time to see a flash. Natasha’s body wouldn’t react, just felt like lead as you pulled her closer, curling up around her until she was completely covered in you. The distorted explosion reached Natasha’s ears just as she felt the shock wave propel you both further away.

The spinning seemed to last forever, and Natasha felt like even her brain was spinning along with the rest of her body. She didn’t know when it stopped, couldn’t tell when you were still. It was impossible to tell what was up, down, where the surface was, how deep she was, how close she was to death.

Until you pulled away slightly and looked at her.

Natasha went to take a breath and immediately felt freezing water shoot down her throat. She cut the breath off as quickly as possible, but it was too late. The water was deep in her lungs, freezing each individual cell from the inside out. She didn’t have an oxygen mask anymore.

There was a split second where your eyes met hers, and they almost seemed to turn black before she felt your free hand close her nose. She was about to push you away when she felt your lips on hers, cold and chapped. You pulled her closer and teased her lips open, and she didn’t fight it. If she was about to die, then at least she would die happy.

And then you exhaled, and her lungs inflated and felt just a little lighter, and the darkness inched away.

You pulled your mouth away and started swimming again, presumably heading up though Natasha couldn’t tell anymore. Every few seconds you would exhale more oxygen into her lungs, keeping her alive as you dragged both of your freezing bodies back to safety.

As soon as you broke the surface, Natasha gasped and filled her lungs with fresh air before coughing the water back out. She was freezing, her limbs felt like lead, and her body was aching from the inside out. And yet you continued to pull her along, swimming to shore until you could pull her up with you.

The rocks on the shore poked into her suit, leaving bruises that would grow very quickly once she got back to the safe house. You laid on the shore too, back down, small pebbles sticking to your gills. From the way they twitched, it was clearly uncomfortable, if not painful.

You both stayed there, laying in the freezing tide, rocks and pebbles sticking into your skin to the point where you would both be recovering for weeks. Natasha’s eyes wanted to close; sleep seemed to wonderful and it would have been so easy. You could both just sleep and not hurt anymore.

But death was not in the cards, and Natasha wasn’t going to let a little cold win.

She rolled onto her stomach slowly, as fast as her body would allow, before pushing herself up to her knees and then her feet. It was painful; her body felt heavy and little pinpricks were on every inch of her skin. But she wasn’t going to think about it. Instead, she grabbed your arm and yanked you up, ignoring the gasps and hisses that you let out.

“Two miles left,” Natasha mumbled; her lips felt frozen shut.

The walk was slow; neither of you had the energy nor the warmth to make decent time. You both stumbled, tripping over your own feet, or the rocks, or the uneven terrain. But eventually you made it, right as the sun was at its highest point in the sky and Natasha almost felt the ghost of warmth in her cheeks.

“Sit down,” Natasha demanded as she threw the door open. She didn’t bother looking back before moving to grab the space heater and put it directly in front of the couch.

Your eyes were dead; they didn’t shine the way they were supposed to. Your hands kept a death grip on the blankets pulled tight over your shoulders. The shakiness in your body had disappeared, now completely still. It felt like a hole was punched through Natasha’s chest, grabbing her heart and ripping it out.

She sat on the sofa opposite you and just watched you. Hoping that you would move, that you would blink, that you would start shivering again. She didn’t know how long it normally took you to warm back up, didn’t know how long it would take for you to get back to normal. But she did know the word you had used for this condition before; you were torpid.

It felt like hours later, but Natasha’s eyes shot back to your face once she heard a wheezy gasp come from you. Your eyes looked glassy, but you blinked once, slowly, before a shiver wracked your body. Just one. But that was enough for Natasha to feel the vice grip around her throat release.

The ringing of the safe house phone made you both jump.

“Romanoff,” Natasha answered, her eyes travelling back to you.

“You’re safe?” Maria asked through the phone.

“Y/N’s torpid, but we’re secure,” Natasha said curtly. Her pulse was starting to increase.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Maria asked again.

No. No, Natasha wasn’t sure.

“I’m good,” Natasha replied anyway, “just ready to get out of here.”

“About that…”

“Don’t say it,” Natasha mumbled. She leaned against the wall and let her head fall back.

“A storm is rolling in and we won’t get to you in time,” Maria continued anyway. “You’re stuck there for a few days.”

Natasha looked over to you again, noting the rise and fall of your shoulders as you slowly, painfully pulled another blanket over your body, this time covering your head. The flush hadn’t come back to your cheeks yet, but you were moving. She could work with that.

“Will we keep power?” Natasha asked, although she already knew the answer.

“Questionable,” Maria answered anyway, “but the generator is in the back room.”

“How much can she manage?”

“She can handle one room. Use her wisely.”

One room. Not enjoyable, but manageable.

“Keep the phone plugged in?” Natasha asked.

“Preferably,” Maria answered, the sound of a smile coming through the phone. “I’d like to talk to you every now and then.”

“Then it’ll be ready,” Natasha replied with her own small smile. She missed Maria. She missed her a lot.

“I’ll try to call after the storm hits, test out the line,” Maria continued.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, then,” Natasha continued.

“You two are disgusting,” you called from the sofa, and Natasha was brought back to the current situation.

Right.

“Go check on the fish,” Maria sighed, “and keep yourselves warm.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha teased.

She stood up and hung up the phone before turning to check on you. You were shivering steadily, and your eyes were looking around. There was the faintest blush to your cheeks and forehead and your lips were looking slightly less chapped.

“W-what’s the w-word, bird?” You asked, looking up to meet her eyes.

“We’re stuck for a few days,” Natasha sighed as she sat on the sofa opposite you. Unlike you, she could heat up quickly. Now the cold was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“So basically,” you started, “they’re leaving me to die.”

“No one is leaving you to die,” Natasha huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Yes they are.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Natasha shook her head. “You have every blanket in the house wrapped around you, how are you not warming up?”

“Because I can’t warm up like that and you know it,” you groaned before falling back against the mountain of blankets.

“I’m not putting up with this right now,” Natasha said, all concern from earlier gone. “Give me a blanket, I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Take the one off the top,” you pouted, “it’s not helping much anyway.”

Natasha walked over and grabbed the blanket you had mentioned, pretending not to notice the ice and pebbles still currently sticking to your gills. You looked absolutely miserable, and she felt a pang in her chest at the sight of your shivering frame.

But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything, instead just turning around and heading off to the one bedroom. She was going to get some sleep if it was the last thing she did.

Or so she thought.

Natasha woke up to darkness and a cold starting to seep through the blanket and her thermals. She planted her feet on the freezing floor and took a deep breath, not really prepared for the fact that the power was out, and she was going to need to watch you at all times to make sure you genuinely didn’t die.

She grabbed her blanket and the two pillows off the bed and made her way to the living room. There was a flickering glow on the walls, and she walked in to see you sitting in front of the space heater and a fire. The generator was more quiet than she had expected, but it still released a constant thrum throughout the safe house.

“When did-” Natasha cut herself off, her eyes having locked onto the bloody gauze and minuscule shrapnel pieces littering the floor.

“About three hours ago,” you replied, either ignoring her hesitation or not caring. “You were out for about seven.”

“Did Maria call?” Natasha asked, trying to walk around you without seeming obvious.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Natasha could see your eyes focused on your abdomen, shaky hands moving deftly. “Said the storm would last for about two day from the time she called.” You looked up with a raised brow. “And that she loves you.”

Natasha finally got a good look at what you had been doing while she was asleep. A jagged piece of metal was sticking out of the left side of your abdomen. There were numerous blood spots on the remainder of your suit, and some bloody tweezers and towels were on the floor in front of you.

“What happened?” Natasha asked, eyes still zeroed in on your side.

“From the blast,” you shrugged before looking back down to continue picking shrapnel out of your skin.

The blast? Natasha hadn’t gotten any kind of injury from the situation, aside from a headache and maybe some oxygen deprivation, but she didn’t recall anything hitting her. Why had it hit-

Oh.

Oh of course.

She was torn. She wanted to help, was desperate to fix you up so you wouldn’t hurt or bleed. But it would have been crossing a line; you never wanted anyone’s help. On top of that, anyone’s hands on your skin made you uncomfortable.

But you were doing such a bad job.

“Give it to me,” Natasha said. She held her hand out as she sat down beside you, already using her other hand to start taking the blankets off of your shoulders.

You huffed and started grumbling to yourself, but handed the tweezers over anyway. She finally made it down to your skin and found the true culprit of the metal sticking out of your side; an entry wound on your back, near your left shoulder.

“You pushed it forward so you could reach it, didn’t you?” Natasha asked as she got to work on the piece, picking smaller pieces out as she found them.

“Does it matter?” You asked. Natasha didn’t answer, instead just pushing the piece out of your skin and ignoring the hiss of pain you sent her way.

“Hand me the first aid kit,” Natasha demanded. You grumbled again but did as you were told.

It was quick work patching you back up; your low blood pressure was very beneficial in the moment, and she wasn’t worried about you bleeding out before you could get back to the tower. You wouldn’t be comfortable, but at least you would be safe.

Once she was sure you weren’t going to ooze through the gauze, Natasha gathered the bloody articles and got up to throw them away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see you pulling the blankets back over your shoulders, wincing every now and then when you twisted the wrong way.

When Natasha got back and sat down on the sofa, she just watched you. Watched your slowed breathing, the occasional shiver, the inaudible groan when you shifted. You looked miserable, but at least you were breathing and talking.

“I’m bored.”

Maybe she didn’t like that you were talking.

“Then you’re going to have a rough few days,” Natasha answered.

“But I’m bored,” you whined. “Help me not be bored.”

“You’re an adult, find something to do,” Natasha shot back. She got up and walked over to the bookshelf, leafing through things that she knew she wasn’t going to read, but was hoping it would give you the idea to find something.

“If I get too bored then I’ll die,” you sighed. “Do you want me to die?”

Natasha turned her head slowly and raised her brow at you.

“How dare you,” you whispered.

She turned her head back to the bookshelf so you wouldn’t see the smile desperately trying to show on her face. Your sounds of indignation continued to reach her ears, so she hurriedly picked the next book her fingers touched and walked back to the couch.

You both sat in silence for a while, and Natasha actually managed to get some reading done. She had no idea what the story was actually about, but that didn’t matter. All that really mattered was that she was killing time, and if she killed enough time then it would be time for her to go back home and forget any of this had ever happened.

“Nat, I’m bored,” you said again after more silence.

“I already told you to find something to do,” Natasha replied without looking up from her book. “I’m not going to find something for you.”

“Fine,” you grumbled as you pushed yourself up from the floor. “I’ll do it myself.”

Natasha sighed but let you go. She didn’t look up, but she was still hyper aware of where you were in the safe house. Aware of each step you took, of each cabinet you opened. Just knowing where you were gave her a sense of comfort.

“Wanna play a game?” You shouted from the other side of the safe house.

It was going to be a long few days.

———

“Connect four,” Natasha said as she slid her red chip into place. Again.

“Connect four my ass, you fucking cheater,” you said as you tried to find out just where Natasha had cheated.

“How do you cheat at connect four?” Natasha asked, a smile threatening to show through her facade.

“I don’t know, but you did,” you said, pointing your finger at her. In turn, Natasha just chuckled and took another sip of her vodka.

Two empty bottles were on the kitchen counter.

“I demand a rematch,” you said again, giving her a deathly stare.

“You’ve been saying that for the past 37 matches,” Natasha said simply.

“Fine, then we’ll play another game,” you said quickly. “We’ve got… Clue, Monopoly, Parcheesi.”

“We’ve played all of those, Y/N,” Natasha pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll play them again and again until I win and you stop cheat-”

The sound of the generator shutting down made the both of you fall silent. Almost instantly, Natasha noticed the cold soak into your bones and your body start shaking. Your teeth clattered and you instinctively pulled the blankets tighter.

“That’s not good,” Natasha whispered. Her voice seemed to echo in the now-silent house.

“It’s cold, Talia,” you shivered. You sounded like a scared little kid.

It broke Natasha’s heart.

She didn’t know if it was the butterflies or the alcohol, but she ignored the feeling in her stomach and moved over until she was sitting directly next to you. Her hand lifted the blankets up so she could get under them, and then found her arms wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against her.

Your body was tense against her, but it relaxed quickly once you were settled. There was a peace about you that Natasha hadn’t felt in months, since before that mission so long ago. And your body relaxed against hers gave Natasha more peace than she could ever hope to get with anyone else.

“You’re ridiculously warm,” you mumbled from under the blankets.

“It’s a gift,” Natasha teased. You chuckled, but then sat up and switched the positions, pulling Natasha into your lap.

“You’re warmer this way,” you mumbled as you laid your head against her neck. Your breath tickled her skin.

Sitting in your lap was a dangerous place to be.

“We can’t do this,” Natasha said softly.

“We’re still on a mission,” you said, your lips moving against her skin. “It doesn’t count if it’s on a mission.”

“You know that’s not true,” Natasha said. You lifted your head and looked at her.

She could see the flush in your cheeks, going down your neck and tinting your gills. There was a darkness to your eyes, reminiscent of the inky water you two had escaped from. And just like that water, they pulled Natasha in. Pulled her in and held her captive as they engulfed her completely until there was nothing else but her and the water.

“It can be,” you whispered, moving in slowly.

“Don’t kiss me,” Natasha said so softly, her voice more like the ghost of a whisper.

“Say it like you mean it,” you said, now only a fraction of an inch away.

“I can’t,” Natasha whispered around the knot in her throat.

She could feel your breath on her lips, could feel the way your fingers were digging into her thigh and hip. The fire left a warm glow on your face, illuminating the scars, the shaved hair that was starting to grow back in, the sparkle of the inviting water in your eyes.

And Natasha wanted to dive in.

Until the rumble of a quinjet landing nearby shocked her out of her trance. She pushed herself off of your lap, rushing to the door as quickly as possible and throwing it open to see Maria standing on the cargo door.

“Need a lift?” Maria asked over the roar of the quinjet.

“And a medic,” you said, suddenly appearing behind Natasha. You had ditched the blankets and were standing tall, although Natasha could see the slight shake in your hands.

“Lucky for you, we’ve got both,” Maria said with a smile, ushering for the both of you to hop in.

Natasha got in first and looked back to help you in, but you ignored her outstretched hand and crawled in on your own, face scrunched in pain as your wounds pulled. You didn’t look at her when you passed, instead heading straight to the medic and letting him get a look at your injuries.

You ignored Natasha the entire trip home.

Natasha swore everyone on the jet could hear her heart explode the same way the underwater base had.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #my writing

[kumzume]

glam ft. todoroki shotō [smhub]

wc. 2.8k :3

warnings. ownership, soft-ish!dom reader, edging, v v lowkey pet play (u call him bunny lol), quiet whiny shoto, begging, miss k*nk (?), slight humiliation k*nk, crying, um

an. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY S WORD I HOPE ITS OK I DIDNT GET ANYONE TO BETA IT SO IF THERE ARE ISSUES M SO SORRY LOVE YALL TY FOR WAITING

▼・ᴥ・▼

shoto todoroki was so pretty.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware — he’d heard the whispers amongst the girls back at U.A. about how attractive he was. that didn’t keep him from believing those words, his insecurities gripping him so tightly that he was unable to even imagine that anyone found him remotely appealing.

that is, until he met you.

when you first transferred into 3-A, the class was thrown into an uproar. you were beautiful, kind, and funny with a powerful quirk to boot! and yet, you never believed that you were better than anyone else, always treating every single person with respect — even bakugou (shoto couldn’t even pretend to understand how you did it but still, the behavior was so undeniably you).

it was all of your remarkable traits that ended up being shoto’s downfall. he believed you were way out of his league — you deserved someone emotionally available and sweet, things that todoroki felt, no knew, he was not. besides, with every single guy in the nearest vicinity falling for you, he knew he didn’t even have a chance.

so, shoto resigned himself to observe you from afar, watching your interactions with his closest friends and classmates, wishing that he could make you smile as wide as kirishima and deku or laugh as hard as sero and denki.

he knew he didn’t measure up and while he tried to make himself okay with that, he felt jealousy bubbling up beneath his skin when he observed shinsou helping you with your homework or bakugou training with you after school.

of course, he realized he didn’t belong to you or you to him and he had no real reason to be envious of whoever you chose to spend your time with but that didn’t stop him from fucking his hand late at night at the thought of you hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his mangled scar and calling him beautiful.

shoto came embarrassingly quick with that fantasy, the shame and disappointment overwhelming him to the point where he’d purposefully ignored you for days after.

he could tell you were hurt by his behavior — he wasn’t entirely oblivious — but he knew it was for the best. you deserved so much more than him.

the both of you graduated and moved on to your respective agencies, shoto swiftly making his way up to the number 2 spot while you sat comfortably at number 17. neither of you saw each other very often but when you did, conversation was stilted and a bit awkward due to the intense attraction and inability to act on it on shoto’s part.

shoto was willing to go the rest of his life like this; seeing you briefly in passing, stumbling through a discussion with much difficulty, and then returning to his penthouse to hump his pillow and cry out your name.

it was a pretty good system for the most part. shoto had no worries about ever having to face his feelings for you and was content to live out his days suppressing his inner turmoil just for you.

unfortunately, the universe hates him.

at least that’s what he told himself as he stood in the center of a boardroom next to you, clad in your hero outfits and listening to instructions on an upcoming mission that required you and shoto to work together. alone. for days at a time.

what the fuck.

to be honest, shoto completely tuned out the minute he heard “one bedroom,” his mind racing with all the horribly tempting ways his fantasies could play out.

by the time the meeting was over, he was hard in his pants and entirely distracted as you attempted to make friendly small talk about your mission. shoto sort of felt like he should apologize for being an absolute brick wall, giving you curt one word answers until you decided to leave him alone.

he felt bad but what else could he do when you stood there, wearing your obscene hero costume that revealed way too much of your skin?

well, shoto was being a little dramatic but that’s how he felt! your suit was a play on the playboy bunny costume but instead of being black leather (he thinks he would actually die if you wore leather in front of him), it was a white, lightweight fabric that helped with your quirk.

it was entirely too sexy and reminded him a little too much of one of his secret kinks that he was determined to never let see the light of day.

it was going to be ok! he reasoned. all he had to do was do his job, ignore you like he’s done for the past 3 years and everything would be just fine — right?

wrong. so fucking wrong.

the mission had gone well on all accounts. you both had kicked ass, much to your enjoyment, and were able to go back home a day early!

you were so excited to finally be back in your own bed and away from the weird tension that being around todoroki brought. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him — in fact it was quite the opposite.

you found shoto alluring and gorgeous, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms drawing you further into the mystery that was shoto todoroki. regrettably, it didn’t seem like the man in question was on the same page.

every time you tried to speak with him, he would either stutter and blush or refuse to look you in the eye and give you one-word answers. it was actually ridiculously cute but he would always disappear the first chance he got.

it hurt but you weren’t one to push boundaries where you weren’t wanted.

that’s why that night, instead of going back up to the room to watch tv (uncomfortably, might i add) and knocking yourself out, you decided to go down to the bar and celebrate a job well done.

one of the perks of being a relatively unknown hero was that you could enjoy a night in public without anyone approaching you, a luxury you knew not many top 20 heroes could afford.

with that thought — and the memory of the stifling hotel room awaiting you upstairs — in mind, you made your way to the sparsely populated bar, sitting down and immediately requesting a drink (bourbon, on the rocks).

you scanned the area, counting the number of exits and patrons before your eyes landed on the handsome bartender down at the other end of the counter.

with curly brown hair, bright green eyes and a smile that could kill, there was no way you could lie to yourself and say he was unattractive. even as your mind briefly entertained the notion of taking the brunette out into the alley and fucking him within an inch of his life, your heart just wasn’t in it.

your mind just couldn’t stop drifting to the tall, dual-haired, oh so pretty, man who was (inadvertently) waiting for you upstairs. of course, you weren’t even his to wait for but you didn’t know how to keep from imagining that he was.

a deep sigh escaped your parted lips before you downed the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn it left as it went down your throat. it was getting late and you weren’t planning on spending your night alone with the janitor.

you sent the cute bartender a soft smile while pressing a crisp $20 to the counter. he sent you his own grin back as his eyes trailed down your body clad in your tight hero suit, licking his plump lips in arousal.

you were flattered, truly, but you were a little occupied with getting back to your room, changing into some comfortable pajamas and conking the fuck out.

the trip back up to your room was long and arduous to your sore body, the elevators being out of commission leaving you to take the stairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were so worn out that you were ready to collapse but before you could manage placing your key against the lock, something caught your ear.

“p-please miss,” a breathy moan of your name followed by a wet slapping noise rang out through the door. “i’ll be your perfect bunny, just let m-me cum, please-!!”

holy fuck.

shoto todoroki, the man you’d been crushing on since your years at UA was now touching himself to the thought of you doing god know what to him and he was calling you miss?

you felt heat flood your core, your knees buckling under the heavy weight of your lust. now braced against the door, you leaned your ear against the wood, determined to hear exactly what was getting him off.

more wet noises permeated through the walls — did he just spit in his palm??? — before a long whine left his pretty pink lips.

“m-miss, i belong to you, y-you own me,” he gasped, the creaking of the bed just barely audible beneath his wavering voice.

by now, you knew you’d soaked through the crotch of your hero costume, your clit throbbing painfully beneath the fabric of your panties. you also knew you should turn around, head back to the bar and order another drink, leaving shoto to finish himself off but you couldn’t.

your feet were implanted in place, ear glued against the door as you listened to your partner masturbate to the thought of you owning him.

quietly, you lifted the hand gripping your key to the door, allowing the touchpad to register before slowly pushing the door open.

the sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

the blinds were parted allowing a dreamy haze of moonlight to envelop the room, casting the pale man before you in a somehow whimsical light.

he was stripped down to nothing, lying on his back with a hand wrapped around his gorgeous, swollen cock, furiously stroking himself to completion.

the plump lips that you had spent so much time admiring were parted, allowing whines and whimpers to leave them sporadically as his lithe hips bucked up into his hand.

shoto’s eyes were clenched shut so he was unable to see your dumbfounded, painfully aroused face as you crept into the room, leaning against the wall with your hand pressed to your mouth.

it wasn’t as though you’d never seen a man naked before — you’d had your fair share of men naked in your bed begging for you — but this was something else.

this was shoto — somehow more intimidating than anyone else you’d ever brought to bed and yet you’ve never wanted anyone more.

which is why you were almost surprised at yourself when you opened your mouth and whispered, “stop.”

immediately, shoto’s eyes shot open, wide with fear and apprehension as he lied there frozen, his hand still wrapped tightly around his girth.

the both of you stood there staring at one another, neither of you able to move. you let yourself have this moment to look at him, your eyes tracking all over his muscular form before landing on his length, not missing how it twitched under your gaze.

“i-“ shoto started but he was quickly interrupted by your own voice. “s’this what you do when i’m gone? touch yourself to the thought of me? you’re so dirty bunny.”

it was impossible to hide the low groan that echoed out in the hotel room, shoto’s cheeks burning red in humiliation. a grin crept across your face as you made your way towards him, giggling to yourself at the way he moved up and away from you on the bed.

“now you’re trying to hide, bunny? you weren’t hiding when you were moaning out my name.” your hand slid up his thigh until it was resting on his sharp hipbone, an abrupt gasp leaving his chest.

your hand continued its trajectory, fingers trailing across his tummy before coming to wrap around the base of his cock.

“o-oh fuck, miss—“ a thick drop of precum leaked from his slit and onto your awaiting hand as a low moan departed from the dual-haired boy.

one of his hands shot out to hold yours, drawing your attention to his heterochromatic gaze. shoto’s eyes held so much emotion, small tears already littering his lashline while the moonlight illuminated his crimson scar. he was ethereal.

“pretty,” you hummed, giving him a gentle smile while your hand squeezed his in reassurance. you’d had enough experience to know that that kind of comment was guaranteed to get some kind of vulnerability but what you were not expecting was the expletive shoto muttered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.

immediately, he was over-enthusiastic, his lips and teeth clashing with yours messily, almost painfully, before you took control of the kiss, slowing shoto down before slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

his quiet groan vibrated into the kiss as you deliberately laid him down, resting his back against the pillows. from there, you had more access to his body, your lips trailing down to his neck while your hand took its place back on his length, lazily pumping him up and down.

“m-miss!” shoto choked, his eyes widening yet again, holding you with his stare. you chose not to respond, instead stroking him quicker while pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“miss,” he tried again, this time more deliberately. “p-please tell me i’m yours...”

with him asking so sweetly, a few tears leaking from his gorgeous eyes at the overwhelming moment, how were you supposed to deny him?

“of course bunny,” you purred, leaning down to peck his nose, sending shivers through his body. “you are mine.”

shoto’s reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as he felt his pleasure begin to crest, determined to push him over the edge.

you, of course, noticed his body’s response and quickly pulled your hand off of him, painfully ripping his orgasm from his grasp. a disappointed whimper resonated throughout the room as shoto’s eyes found yours, staring at you with such betrayal that you almost found it funny.

“c’mon bunny,” you moved until you were kneeling between his legs, your hands leaving featherlight touches to his inner thighs. “you can hold out for me, right?”

shoto nodded before he could stop himself, desperate for anything you would give him.

besides, it couldn’t be that hard to hold off, right?

...

wrong. so very wrong.

it had only been 30 minutes but it felt like 2 hours since you started playing with him and keeping him from coming.

shoto was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both hands tangled in his bi-colored locks, eyes squeezed shut with tear tracks now drying on his cheeks and his cock standing fully at attention.

it was purple, throbbing, and covered in precum as you licked a stripe up the side making shoto sob in pleasure.

he had never been harder in his life and he was certain that he would just die if you didn’t let him cum soon.

“p-please, please, miss, please, let me cum,” he babbled, shaking his head mindlessly while bucking his hips up into the warm heat of your mouth.

you chose to ignore his pleas while you moved your mouth over his tip, sucking hard while your hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth.

“a-ah-!!” shoto shrieked, his back bowing off the bed, his orgasm coming on so hard and so fast that he felt like he was going to explode. “c-can’t hold back m-miss, i can’t, i can’t!”

your hand continued to pick up speed before you pulled your mouth off of him, toying with his tip while leaning up to breathe into his ear.

“cum for me bunny. you’re mine.”

with a cry of your name, shoto came, thick spurts of cum covering his abs, chest and thighs as his body convulsed under the weight of his bliss.

it was the most all encompassing orgasm he’d ever had and you, his former classmate, current partner, and future lover, was beside him through it all, helping him ride it out.

in the back of his mind, shoto knew he should be at least a little worried about how your relationship was going to change after all of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care. you were here and now, bringing him the most pleasure he’d ever undergone with nothing but kind words and a smile, filling his touchstarved heart with heat and, dare he say it, love.

shoto may not have been the funniest or the most open but you chose him, even if it was just for the night. and now that he unlocked how much he loved you, nothing else mattered — just you and him.

as he collapsed back into the sheets, his head just barely registering the cool rag wiping him down, he took pride in how he finally admitted it to himself; shoto loved you and he would be damned if he let anyone else take him away from you.

now, all he had to do was tell you but that was a conversation for another day.

▼・ᴥ・▼

taglist. if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you!!

@anikazoldeck • @hakunamatatayqueen • @alilsumnsumn • @sukunaslefttesticle • @hawksyoongi • @rivviespens • @kenmas-nintendoswitch • @myumyutie • @unicorngluttony • @bloomyagi • @shantellmcintosh • @queenhxla • @yeyehdom • @persies-main • @yikes-buddy • @nnmesis • @thehandsresisthim • @hinatabokeboke • @joongsite • @amazinghefi • @sarcasticambiguity • @mr-bombastic • @i-am-literally-deranged • @ch0pi • @aonjuh • @www-bubblefish • @meliorist-midoriya • @maizurie • @idkdude776 • @midarislonglostlefteye • @queerloser17 • @franklyrobin • @ravioliplease • @ashsera • @chirumi • @yamashiro888 • @xxjosiexx • @krstnn • @bbsista • @seij6hs • @franklyrobin • @chirumi • @melodysakura

#the taglist is open!!!! #BUT SORRY RHIS TOOK 1 BILLION YEARS #I HOPE ITS WORTH IT #ALSO PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACK I NEED IT LIKE WATER :3 #😽.writing #smhub <3 #shoto <3 #shoto todoroki #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto #shouto smut #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto #todoroki shōto #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto x y/n #bnha shoto #mha smut #bnha smut #mha shoto #shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #bnha x reader smut #bnha todoroki

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Can I call you mine?

A commission from the lovely @carlottastudios who I absolutely adore after only having a few conversations with. These were jealousy scenarios with a bit of spice! I went over my word limit on Jamil’s but that’s just cause I love him so much! Please enjoy! And commissions are open still! This one cost $3

Warnings: slight spice, fem!reader, jealousy, protectiveness, possessive behavior, light light LIGHT angst, marking kink (is that a thing? oh well. Basically a love bite that displays their claim.)

   “In the jungle, the botanical jungle, a lion sleeps all the time~!” you sang out teasingly. Leona huffed and his tail thumped against the ground once in irritation. Giggling, you slid closer and poked said tail, which retracted swiftly, prickling in annoyance.

   “Scram herbivore.” Leona’s tone was mildly annoyed but had no bite to it. Truthfully he hoped you would inch just a bit closer so he could grab you and hold you hostage as his pillow. 

   You hummed and stood, much to his displeasure, and grabbed your school stuff. Quietly you packed everything away and threw out your lunch trash before returning to Leona’s spot one more time.

   “I have class now, Leona. I’ll see you later, kay?” he grunted in agreement and watched you walk away, nose twitching as he inhaled your fresh scent one last time before it began to fade. The down side of the botanical garden was that any smell other than flowers was quickly dispersed by the sickeningly sweet perfume of nectar.

   The lion sighed and stared up at one such flower with distaste. How dare they try to outdo his beloved? He would never appreciate their scent more than hers. He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous thoughts and fell back asleep. He hummed as he did so, mimicking the tune you had sang to him. He missed you already.

----------

   5:48 P.M. You were 18 minutes late. 18 minutes had passed since you were supposed to be in Leona’s bed, curled up next to him, petting his ears, and doting on him like the king he was. 18 minutes where Leona gradually became more worried, as well.

   It wasn’t like you to be late. Especially not late to a night with him. It set his instincts off and he was on high alert, tensed, ready to pounce on anything that dared touch his mate. Finally when the clock turned 5:20 he sprang out of bed and strode down the hall with power that sent the message “don’t mess with me”.

   In the Savanaclaw lounge you were seated next to the decorative pool, chatting amidly with a fellow student. Leona glared and growled when he spotted you, far too close to the other man for his liking. He watched in anger, as the student slid even closer to you so that your hips touched briefly.

   Rage flashed in Leona’s eyes and his expression darkened into something dangerous. He stalked over behind you and the student, who seemingly didn’t notice his presence and hastily picked you up before throwing you over his shoulder. 

   “Hey! Put me down!” you cried out and he snarled at you. “Quiet, herbivore!” Recognizing your boyfriend's voice you stilled and relaxed a bit. At least it wasn’t some stranger. 

   He mentally gave you points for fighting back when you didn’t know who it was. “That’s right, only I get to touch you.”

   Looking down at the student who had been sitting with you, he noticed your homework was on his lap and realized he had just been helping you. He growled and turned walking away, a bit upset that he didn’t have a good reason to turn them to dust. Not that he needed one, but he couldn’t imagine upsetting you by harming one of your classmates, no matter how much he wanted to.

   Soon he reached his room and threw you on the bed. You landed with a gasp and looked up at him in confusion and slight annoyance. “Leona! What was that-MPH!”

   He silenced you quickly by shoving you down on the bed and sliding his tongue into your mouth. Immediately your body relaxed underneath him and he smirked when you brought your hands up to weave into his hair. 

   Only he got to touch you like this. Only he got to kiss you. Only he got to say that you were his. His and his alone! 

   You panted when he pulled back and started to ask why but he kissed you again so you couldn’t. “Jealous. Protective. Possessive. Mine” He said between kisses and soon trailed them along your jaw and down to your neck.

   A breathy moan slipped from your lips as he sucked on the sensitive skin near your collar. He kissed up until he was right over the junction between your neck and shoulders. Then he bit down hard, drawing a loud cry from you. 

   The taste of your blood only just barely appeared before he pulled back and began to kiss the wound. He knew that licking it would irritate it further due to his cat-like tongue, but he still attempted to soothe it as much as possible.

   Finally he pulled back completely and gazed down at you with a smirk. Several different bruises and love bites littered your neck, shoulders, and collar. Only one had been deep enough to break the skin. It would scar he was sure and the thought of you always wearing a symbol of his claim made him purr.

   He stopped though when he realized he could have hurt you. “I’m sorry. Princess, I didn’t mean to get so upset, it’s just instincts.” he sighed. 

   You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss. “Don’t worry. I find it super sexy when you get possessive.” His eyes widened in surprise and he took in your mild blush. “Hmmm…” he purred with a smirk. “Well in that case you don’t mind if I mark you up a bit more… and while I’m at it you can use that pretty voice of yours to remind the whole dorm that you’re mine and mine alone!”

   Jamil gritted his teeth and turned away from the lounge. He made his way to the kitchen and immediately began to prepare more horderves. Kalim’s party was going wonderfully, of course all due to his hard work. Although he supposed he appreciated a week's notice and Kalim did help magically with some of the decorations.

    He was still stressed, but not quite as much as he could have been, had Kalim not given him a warning. In fact he was looking forward to actually trying to enjoy one of Kalim’s parties for the first time since he was born. 

   It was a very nice party and since everything was going smoothly, Jamil found time to sit down and sip some juice. Alcohol wasn’t allowed on school premises but grape juice mimicked the taste nicely depending on what brand you bought. Kalim was partial to the sweeter stuff, while Jamil preferred it to be more sour.

   However, he found that the sour taste in his mouth wasn’t from the juice at all when he spotted you dancing joyously with some other student. His smile fell into a frown and he watched angrily as the student pulled you close and said something that made you laugh.

   You had a beautiful laugh, it was the kind that made everyone in the room sigh in content when they heard it. Jamil fell in love with it almost as hard as he had fallen in love with you. Especially because you rarely laughed for anyone but him.

   To hear you generously sharing that sound with some nobody sent flashes of anger through him.  He clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms a bit. Just remembering it made him pissed.

   Shaking his head to clear it, Jamil got to work cutting up some more vegetables at a fast speed that would intimidate anyone who tried to approach him. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone so he glared darkly at the food in front of him in an attempt to send off silent go away signals.

   Kalim, who entered the room to find Jamil after seeing him storm off, caught sight of the frustrated man and paused to observe his body language. Ever since Jamil’s overblot, Kalim had been trying to read his friend's emotions better. Luckily he caught on quickly and left the room.

    Jamil sighed in relief and set the knife down. Why the hell would you wanna hang out with anyone but him! You were his and his alone! The only thing he had claim over, or ownership of. Mentally he berated himself for thinking that way. You weren’t an object, you were a person and you should be allowed to do whatever you want. He would be a hypocrite if he tried to restrict your choices and behaviors.

   “Jamil?” The man spun around and found you standing behind him with a concerned look on your face. “Kalim told me you looked upset, is everything alright?” Your tone was soft and worried. It eased Jamil’s emotions in the way it always had. You always put him first, a habit he both loved and hated. On one hand he adored being pampered for once, on the other he knew what it was like to ignore your own wants and needs for another person.

   He sighed and put on a smile, taking your hands in his own. “Just tired that’s all.” you frowned and glared up at him in the way you always did when he lied.

   “Now, I know that’s not true. I’m not gonna force you to tell me, but I also want you to know that you can be honest with me. That’s why I’m here.” Jamil bit his lip and turned away, a flush rising on his cheeks.

   “The truth…” he hesitated. “The truth is I don’t want you hanging out with that other student!” The sudden exclamation took you aback and you blinked in surprise. “I don’t want to control you or tell you what to do and who to hang out with, but I also want you all to myself. No one else should be able to touch you or whisper in your ears, or dance with you, or make you laugh and smile. That’s my job, because your mine, not theirs!”

   At this point you were blushing as well, but noticed he was beginning to get upset. “And I’m so sorry for saying that like you’re some object, cause you’re not. You’re a person who deserved to make their own choices and decisions, but goddamnit I can’t help wanting you all to myself. You’re- you’re…” he paused and looked at you. “You’re special… to me. I don’t want anyone taking you away from me. I know i’m being a hypocrite but don’t go back out there. Stay here and be mine-”

   Jamil was cut off by you kissing him passionately on the lips. His eyes widened before they fell closed and he snaked his arms around your waist, tugging you flush against him with a growl. 

   His tongue swiped at your lips and you parted them obediently. He smirked and chuckled lowly before slipping it into your mouth. “Good girl.” You moaned through the kiss and felt your knees weaken. He pulled you around and lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck where he simultaneously worshipped and abused your skin.

   Love bites and dark bruises displayed his rough treatment, but the sighs that fell from your lips told him that you were enjoying it greatly. Silently he pulled back to observe his handiwork and smirked at the amount of marks he had left behind. Some would be easy to hide, whereas others he had left strategically in places that would be impossible to cover up. He felt a little guilty, knowing that you would be slightly upset later for making it so hard to hide the fact that he had been kissing you, but seeing something almost like a name tag, or a brand, that signified you were his and his alone, stirred something in him and he was tempted to never let you leave his sight without a mark warning people off about advancing on you.

   “Jamil…” you spoke shakily. He looked at you and how wrecked you were just from some kisses and his gaze darkened with lust. His tongue licked his lips subconsciously and he watched you shiver in reaction. “I have something important to tell you…”

   He raised an eyebrow and moved his head to the other side of your neck, placing kisses and marks there as well. It made it very hard to think so you momentarily pushed him away, making him growl in displeasure. “Don’t feel bad about being possessive over me, okay? Because when you are…” you hesitated, “it’s really freaking hot.”

   His eyes widened and an almost evil smile drew up on his lips. “That so… well, then I guess you don’t mind me leaving a few more marks over here,” he licked a stripe up your neck drawing a gasp from you, “to show the whole world that you belong to me!” He snarled it out before biting lightly at your skin and relishing in the way you tilted your head to the side with a moan. Yeah, he could get used to you hanging out with other boys so long as he got to do this to you before and after.

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona #twst leona x reader #twst jamil #Jamil Viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #commision