#once i was serious for an hour and it drained out my soul | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

juyeonszn · 5 months

Text

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.58k

GENRES smut ﹒angst ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to fwb to lovers, a few timeskips here and there, hyunjae is a manwhore but what else is new, he’s also a criminal justice major so, mentions of alcohol, mentions of roblox? idk, reader is lowkey horny as hell 😭, handjob, oral (m!receiving), mentions of sex in various places, hyunjae is an emotionally constipated idiot, juyeon appearance crowd cheered, also cha eunwoo appearance but crowd did not cheer, hyunjae goes through the five stages of grief, no foreplay but what can u do about it, marking, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap u know the drill), cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie yeehaw, little bit of cockwarming st the end ngl

SUMMARY becoming friends with lee hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. also not on your bingo card? waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

MORE bruh. first of all. i’m so sorry this is so late. 😭 second of all, NOT ONLY IS IT A DAY LATE, BUT ITS ALSO LIKE AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE 😭 my time management was not all there this past weekend, and also due to some unfortunate decisions on my part, this fic was delayed a bunch but WE ARE SO BACK pls. i hope u all enjoy this bc i kinda hate it and im sad bc i was so excited for it and its nothing like how i wanted it to be… pls rb if u liked it 😿 also this is lowkey for izzy bc we’re both going through insane hyunjae brainrot rn..

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea @from-izzy

In Hyunjae’s defense, he didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

When the two of you first met, he really was just trying to be a gentleman. He’d always been raised as someone who should do the right thing without expecting anything in return. He prided himself on sticking by his mother’s lifelong wisdom.

Okay sure, he might’ve had a few slip ups here and there in the form of random girls he’s hooked up with, but could you blame him? He was a university criminal justice major after all. There’s no harm in a little one-night-stand fun. Learning the ins and outs of the world of law and order was soul-draining enough without the freedom to stress-relieve whenever he felt fit.

Right. Back to you.

Your first encounter took place at the Tau Beta Zeta end of semester party. The fraternity had been working towards securing their victory against the KAT sorority just so they could host the damn thing. Hyunjae had yet to find a girl to entice him for the night, instead bothering some of his frat brothers. For example, Jacob Bae, who had just won the IST University boys’ volleyball team a championship title.

He could’ve gone after Lee Haeun, Jacob’s ex, but he had higher standards than that. There was also the incident earlier that day, while setting up for the party. He tried making a move on the KAT president to piss off Sangyeon, but that ended up failing. Honestly, he didn’t even care much about sleeping with anyone at these things anyways. Usually pretty girls came up to him first, but then ghosted him once they realized he wasn’t looking for anything serious. That was the only reason why his rap sheet was so long. He’d never intended on being the resident fuckboy.

Hyunjae remembers spotting you across the room during one of the numerous rounds of beer pong that night. Rather than Juyeon refereeing with Younghoon like they normally did, he stepped in to let the younger male enjoy the party with his girlfriend. The current match-up was Sunwoo versus Changmin with their respective partners. He had glanced up after witnessing the soccer prodigy miss a cup, making eye contact with you accidentally.

You tucked some hair behind your ear, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a sip before looking away. Your friends had sucked you back into the conversation you were having, effectively blocking Hyunjae’s chance to shoot any shots. He quickly got over it upon witnessing Changmin and Sunwoo arguing over the game, egging them on like the instigator he was.

Most people would’ve thought that was the end of it. Just a fleeting glance at each other, dozens of people standing between you. In hindsight, Hyunjae partially wishes that was where your story ended. You would’ve just been another girl to him, a stranger he saw once and never ran into again.

It’s funny how the universe works in strange ways.

By two in the morning, when over half of the partygoers had left the TBZ house, Hyunjae felt his social battery reach empty. He woke up earlier that morning to study for his Victimology final and felt drained by the time he walked out of the lecture hall. (He knew he aced it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t mentally taxing.) He was just about ready to call it a night when he saw you sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, blubbering into your phone about something.

“What do you mean you left?” You wail, cheeks stained with mascara streaks. “I don’t care about your boyfriend! I’m too drunk to drive home and you were supposed to be my D.D.”

Your words are slightly slurred, a hiccup following your last sentence. Damn, you were cute even when you were crying like a baby. Hyunjae observed as you argued with who he assumed to be your friend over the phone, exasperated by the end of it. Despite not knowing a single thing about you, not even your name, he decided to step in and offer aid.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you saying you’re too drunk to drive yourself, and as a TBZ member I just can’t let that happen,” he extended a hand to you. “I’d be more than willing to let you stay here until the morning, if you’d like. You can have my room and I’ll just crash in one of the others.”

Your lower lip quivered, as if you were on the verge of even more tears. You sniffle when you respond, eyes doe-like and glassy. “R-Really? You would do that f-for me?”

“It’s a better alternative than taking a rideshare home alone while drunk,” he nods. “And I’m definitely not letting you drive anywhere yourself.”

Hyunjae doesn’t know why he felt so protective over you. The thought of some potentially creepy man taking advantage of you because you were under the influence didn’t sit right with him. He poked his cheek with his tongue, hand still outstretched to you. You took it gently, allowing him to guide you to his bedroom. He grabbed some of his clothes so you could be comfier and gave you a washcloth so you wouldn’t go to be with your makeup on. He felt better knowing you were in the safety of his fraternity house rather than anywhere else. It kind of pissed him off that your friends would leave you to fend for yourself like that.

The next morning, you came down the stairs drowning in Hyunjae’s clothes, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. You held the heel of your palm to your temple, wincing from the headache no doubtedly caused by your hangover. It was around 11 AM when you woke up and most, if not all, of his frat brothers had already left to head home for the holidays.

You found your knight in shining armor sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a mug with the default male Roblox face in his grasp. He was scrolling through his phone mindlessly, taking sips of his coffee every now and then until he heard you. He spins around in his chair, offering you a warm smile.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you rest okay?” He asks, getting up to grab you your own mug.

Your cheeks burn up at the nickname. The whole situation is still a bit odd to you. You knew of Lee Hyunjae through the grapevine (every other girl at your school), yes, but you’ve never held an actual conversation with him before. And now here you are, taking shelter in his home and sleeping in his bed. It was sweet of him to be so hospitable, though. He could’ve kicked you out and pretended you didn’t exist.

“That’s probably the best I’ve ever slept in my life,” you laugh to cut through the tension. “Thank you for keeping me alive last night. I feel indebted to you forever.”

“It was no problem, at all. My pleasure, actually,” he grins, passing you a mug filled with fresh coffee. “By the way, I never got your name.”

“It’s Y/N,” you tell him, mouth pulling into a smile at the cup he just gave you, which happened to be the female adjacent to his. “Hyunjae, right?”

He doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed by the fact that you already knew his name or not, but given his previous reputation, he thinks it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He clears his throat and nods as he drinks more of his coffee. He tries to distract himself from the weird feeling bubbling in his chest with how cute you looked in his clothes.

“Do you not have any plans for the break?” You switch the subject, noticing that the house was empty for the most part.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I’m from here, so it isn’t really much of a drive to visit home. I’ll go over on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Years but that’s about it. Other than that, I like to enjoy having the whole house to myself.”

“Woah, me too! My friends are all from out of town though, so I’m usually really lonely. It’s always so odd thinking about how this is just a stepping stone for people’s lives and I’ve been here all of mine.” You stir some cream and sugar into your coffee, pursing your lips. “So, I take it you’re not doing anything today?”

“Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada,” Hyunjae leans back in his chair. “I’ll probably just watch some movies and call it a day. What about you? Any plans for the break since all of your friends are gone?”

“I have just as many as you.” You sip on your beverage.

“Well, the couch space next to me will be unoccupied if you’d like to join me.”

“I think I might take you up on that offer.”

You feel like maybe this was some sort of elaborate scheme to trap you. Your eyes kept flickering from the TV to his profile, entranced by the blue light illuminating his features. You wanted nothing more than to claim your seat on his lap and ride him into the sunset like a gallant steed, which was ironic considering the way the two of you met.

It’s in the middle of the third movie that you finally feel yourself grow restless. No way could you sit beside Lee Hyunjae, spend the whole day with him, and not jump his bones. It was, like, the most obvious thing to do. It was Lee Hyunjae. Did he expect you not to?

He feels you squirming next to him, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. In all honesty, he’s surprised he’s abstained from touching you this long. From the moment he saw you in his clothes this morning, he wanted you underneath him. He doesn’t know how to initiate anything without seeming too forward though.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to make much effort on his part.

You place one of your hands on his thigh, dragging your nail along the seam of his sweatpants. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. All you can do is bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

“You know, Hyunjae, I never got to properly thank you for your act of nobility last night,” you start, fingers creeping up higher. “And I just thought of something that I think we’ll both like.”

He doesn’t have the strength in him to restrain himself after that, pulling you into a heated kiss. He nips at your lower lip and tangles his tongue with your own, getting easily lost in the spellbinding of your touch. Your lips trail along his jaw and down his neck, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants. You suck deep marks into the skin of his pulse point while simultaneously palming him through his underwear.

You’re moving fast, but you’re on a mission. You’ve been waiting for this all day, you can’t imagine slowing down now. It doesn’t appear that he plans on stopping you either.

Hyunjae throws his head back, hissing when you discard his boxers. The cool air of the house hits his cock at the same time you bite down on the divot where his neck meets his shoulder. Your hand gently wraps around his length, thumb running over the slit to collect the precum that’s formed there. He watches in a trance as you go on your knees between his legs.

You press a sweet kiss to his tip before taking him into your mouth. He groans, twisting your hair around his wrist so he can control your movements. Hyunjae doesn’t think he’s ever wanted head this badly in his life. He’s always been a giving person, always providing the pleasure for the girl he was with. There were only a handful of times that he’s ever been on the receiving end and none of them were memorable. But this time is different.

For some reason, you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him this riled up this quickly. You’re still relatively a stranger to him, and even though he’s had plenty of one night stands, it’s unlike any of the others.

Your throat relaxes so you can swallow more of him, tongue swirling around the tip. He’s the biggest guy you’ve ever been with, making things a little harder for you, but you were never one to back down from a challenge. And getting Lee Hyunjae to cum from the work of your mouth alone was the ultimate reward.

Hyunjae moans when your attention focuses on his sensitive slit. The sound is music to your ears, goading you into continuing your task. You gag around his dick and tears prick at your eyes when he pushes your face down further, your nose brushing the lower part of his abdomen. One of your hands wanders, tracing and scratching his abs as the other jerks him off.

He swipes away some stray tears with his thumb, bucking into your mouth and hand. “Fucking look at you, taking me like a good girl. You’re so filthy.”

You whine, squeezing your thighs together for your own friction. You can wait, though, entirely too focused on getting him to finish. You’re thankful it isn’t that much longer until he does, painting your lips and cheeks with his release when you pull off of him to press a cute kiss on the same spot. He knows he finished too fast for someone of his caliber, but he doesn’t have it in him to care.

“You’re so hot,” he brings you up to connect your lips once again.

It was very easy to fall into a habit after that.

Throughout the entirety of the break, Hyunjae would call you over or vice versa and you’d rock each other’s world’s. It was practically an entire month of fucking nonstop. You’d done it in the TBZ house living room, in his bed, in the kitchen, in the shower and every other surface you could think of. Your own apartment had been christened plenty with your sexcapades also. Both of your cars had seen you naked too. But the most memorable place had to be his childhood bedroom the night of Christmas. He went to his parents’ for a couple days and hit you with that 3 AM “You up?” text when his libido couldn’t quell. That was probably the quietest you’d ever have to be.

Hyunjae had to explain to his mom that no, he hadn’t gotten mauled by a wild animal in his sleep. It was harder coming up with another plausible lie to cover the source of the hickeys on his neck, but he’d rather tell his mother something stupid than the fact that he was an insatiable freak.

When it came time for everyone to return to school for the spring semester, you’d deluded yourself into thinking there could be something real between you and Hyunjae. I mean, what else were you supposed to do? This gorgeous man had spent almost every single day of winter break with you, even if it was mostly for the sex. That wasn’t all you did though. You shared meals together and talked about your life goals. You truly got to know him better than just the hot frat guy who’s made his rounds with girls on campus.

However, Hyunjae did not think he was ready for that level of commitment.

After spending a month with you and learning all of your little quirks, he thought he was going insane. He’d been in situationships in the past and none of them ever ended well, especially because they always caught feelings. He didn’t want the two of you to fall down the same path. But he noticed the linger of your touches and kisses and the way your eyes sparkled when he spoke. He didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.

He just couldn’t see himself getting into a serious relationship. He was preparing to apply for law schools and get his shit together. He didn’t think he couldn’t handle throwing a girlfriend into the mix. Even if it was you. Bold, pretty little you, who had Lee Hyunjae wrapped around her finger without trying.

Things come to a speeding halt for both of you halfway into the second week back.

Hyunjae was walking out of his Crime Mapping II lecture when he saw you chatting up Cha Eunwoo outside of the building, giggling and being all touchy with him. He doesn’t know why he feels so… stuffy… when he sees that. He doesn’t know why it makes him mad. He doesn’t know why it feels like his heart has just been stomped on a handful of times.

He walks over to you and clears his throat, hands shoving into his jacket pockets. He tries to ignore how cute you look in your puffer coat, nose rosy from the cold. You pause in your conversation to say hi to him before resuming whatever you were saying before. It was like he was invisible.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” You tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling at the male.

“For sure. Talk to you later, Y/N.” He says, waving as he takes off.

Hyunjae starts in the opposite direction wordlessly, leaving you to stumble behind him like a newborn deer. He looks upset about something, but you’re not sure if you should ask. When you finally match his pace, you frown, tapping his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Since when were you friends with Cha Eunwoo?” Hyunjae blurts, tone catching you off guard. You blink at his outburst.

“For a while, I guess? We’re in the same department and we’ve had a few classes together. Why? Is that a problem?” You stop your steps, forcing him to do the same.

“No, why would it be? I’m not your boyfriend. You can talk to whoever you want.” He backtracks, realizing the connotation behind his question. Shit, why does he not think before he speaks?

“You could be,” you shrug, gaze casted downward to avoid his stare. “You could be my boyfriend.”

Again, because he’s a stupid boy, he chooses not to use his brain in such a critical situation. “I don’t want to be. You can date him for all I care.”

Hyunjae didn’t want to be the one to break your heart, but he knows he did when he sees the flame in your eyes die out. He thinks he broke his own too, chest constricting when tears well up in the corners. You wipe your runny nose with your gloved hand, sniffling with a scoff.

“Fuck you, Hyunjae,” your voice is surprisingly calm, and that scares him more. “Fuck you and your stupid fucking commitment issues and your lack of empathy. Stay away from me.”

He can’t even think of something quick enough to stop you. Of course, his mind runs at a million miles a minute when it’s the worst time. But when he needs it to work most, it fails on him. That’s exactly his luck.

He just stares as your figure gets smaller and smaller, getting further and further away from his reach. His stomach feels ugly, twisted in a way it shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s because he’d considered you a close friend at this point, and now there’s no way you didn’t hate him. He told you things that he hadn’t even told his brothers, things that he hoped would never see the light of day. He’d spoken his insecurities out into the world and you were the one he let see that vulnerable side of him. He had something good going for him finally, and he went and ruined it.

Who could he be mad at but himself?

When Hyunjae sees you again, it’s been at least a week since your argument in the middle of campus.

He’d been beating himself up over the fight the entire time. Numerous what-if scenarios ran through his mind when he should’ve been sleeping. He wonders what he could’ve said to make everything turn out differently. Had he just told you what was bothering him, told you about that icky sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, perhaps you wouldn’t have walked away.

He’s pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose. You avoided him until you knew you’d definitely see him, and then you’d flaunt yourself to purposefully piss him off. Despite only knowing each other for a little over a month, you had Hyunjae read like the back of your hand. You knew he was stubborn and had to be pushed into admitting he was wrong. He’d never outright confess to his mistakes unless you backed him into a corner and forced him to.

So you can imagine his reaction when he saw you walk into that week’s TBZ party with Cha Eunwoo around your shoulders.

If Lee Hyunjae had any faults, it was that he was too prideful. He realizes this when you stroll right past him, ignoring his presence. You giggle at something Eunwoo said as you grab some drinks. There’s no way you aren’t doing this to get on his nerves. Especially not in that outfit.

His grip on his cup is not normal, he knows that. But it’s not subtle if anyone notices and when Juyeon of all people points it out, he knows it even more.

“Yo, dude. Are you good? You look like you might kill somebody if we’d let you.” The younger male pats his back.

“Honestly, no, not really. But there isn’t really anything I can do about it.” Hyunjae huffs, welcoming his defeat with open arms.

“You can talk to me about things. It’s kinda weird but I always feel like getting out your thoughts is better than internalizing and blowing up randomly.” He says after a moment.

“I guess I’m just confused why I’m so jealous of something that isn’t mine.” The heart to heart with his frat brother follows the entire five stages of grief, starting with step one; Denial. He’ll keep denying the real reason he feels the way he does.

“Are you talking about that girl you were messing around with during break?” Juyeon asks, bringing his cup to his mouth. “And the fact that she’s here with Cha Eunwoo?”

Step two; Anger. His cup snaps and the sharp edge of the plastic scratches the inside of his palm. “Why would I be jealous of her being here with him? I could give less of a fuck about that. She’s not my girlfriend, she can do whatever she wants.”

He raises an eyebrow at how defensive his senior gets, lips quirking up. “Sure, Hyunjae. You’re not jealous. But you’re acting like it and you know you are.”

“Well,” step three; bargaining. “I’m not not jealous, I just— I don’t know. I’ve never been on this side of the situation before. Am I even allowed to be mad about it?”

“I mean, it’s a little unconventional, but yeah, I think you are. You spent the better part of a month getting to know this girl. You’ve seen her in ways other people haven’t. Even if you weren’t going into it with the intention to start something, I think it’s hard not to want anything after. Unless you’re completely heartless. But you’re not exactly The Grinch, so.” Juyeon sounds too wise for standing in the middle of a frat party.

“Nothing’s gonna happen now, though. She hates me and wants nothing to do with me because I screwed up.” Step four; Depression.

“You don’t know that unless you make an attempt to fix it,” his junior sighs. “Look, she’s gonna keep projecting how upset you made her if you aren’t gonna do something about it. But there’s a high chance that she’ll forgive you if you’re just real with her.”

And last, but not least, step five. Acceptance. Lee Hyunjae has finally accepted that he’s not an emotionless robot incapable of producing feelings for someone. He takes Juyeon’s advice right then and there, deciding that this is something he has to do immediately. (He also knows how much you can drink at these things and he preferred that you were sober when he spoke to you.)

He thanks his friend and sets off to search for you in the sea of already drunk university students. He’s anxious. He’s never been the type to have serious discussions about anything, really. He assumes that it stems from never seeing that in his own parents. They loved each other, yeah, but they never really talked about difficult topics with each other. Or, in front of him they didn’t.

Hyunjae thinks he might throw up when he finds you in the other room. Cha Eunwoo is still glued to your side, but he’s hardly paying attention to you, talking to his friends. You look bored, like you were waiting for something— or someone— to save you. This was his opportunity.

Your eyes widen when you see him heading straight for you, swallowing thickly. There wasn’t any route of escape so you were stuck having to deal with him. In all honesty, the hurt was still very fresh for you, and you weren’t sure you could handle talking to him yet.

“Can we please talk? I need to tell you something,” he yells over the loud music.

“Why should I listen to what you have to say?” Your tone is shaky, wavering slightly, but you’re grateful that he can’t hear it with how voluminous this party is.

“Y/N,” he pleads almost, eyes communicating what you needed to hear. “This is important.”

You concede, sneaking from Eunwoo and following Hyunjae blindly. You could be getting whisked away to your demise, but the former hardly even notices, too engrossed in whatever he was saying to his friends. You’re a bit apprehensive when Hyunjae takes you into his bedroom, biting your cheek when the memories of what you’ve done in here come flooding back to you.

“Okay, I don’t know how to put this into a coherent thought,” he turns his back to you.

“Can we just get this over with? You don’t want me, remember? I don’t even know why I’m giving you the time of day—“

“Of course I want you,” he exclaims, spinning around and pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, are you blind? It’s so obvious that I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N. I’m just stupid and I fucked everything up, because I was scared that things would change and I’m afraid of change. That’s the reason why I have commitment problems. I don’t want to commit myself to something just for everything to change in the blink of an eye.”

You shut up after that, your heart skipping in your chest. This was what you wanted. You wanted a messy confession. Something that told you it wasn’t all in your head. That you weren’t making things up. That he felt the same way you did.

Your lips collide in a rough, desperate manner. Hyunjae’s never had a way with words, so kissing you with every ounce of longing in his being and holding you like you’d disappear any second was his outlet. This was how he could show you his true feelings. Your heart rate transitions from your pulse point to your ears, amplifying with each suck of your bottom lip between his teeth

You’ve done this so many times before, but it will never be the same as this one. No one could ever make you feel the way Lee Hyunjae does. It might be crazy, but it only took a month for you to realize that there will never be another for you. The conversations that trickled into early hours of the morning following going at it like jackrabbits were perfect to you. They weren’t ideal, but they were enough.

The two of you walk backwards until he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, your knees on either side of his lap. You cup his jaw in your hands, grinding down on him every time your lips move together. Hyunjae’s fingers dig into your sides and push up the material of your dress. He’s moving fast, rushed like you might decide you don’t want this and walk out of his room.

You can’t really blame him, your pace disorganized with only one goal in mind. Neither of you could be bothered with the foreplay, too needy and craving the touch of one another as quickly as possible. You part from him to pull off your dress, eyes fluttering shut when he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He doesn’t want to waste time commenting on the fact that you were braless underneath so he busies himself with pecking the tops of your tits. Your fingers card through his hair with an extended sigh, noticing how long it’s gotten since you first met.

Hyunjae pushes his pants down his legs as you yank his shirt over his head, reconnecting your lips. He uses his ring and middle fingers to shove aside your underwear, discarding his own shortly after. Your mouth nips and bites your favorite places on his neck, ensuring you mark the surface so everyone knows who he belongs to. You were the one who acquired the key to Lee Hyunjae’s heart.

Your teeth sink into his skin the moment he slips inside of you, both of you moaning when he slides right into your cunt like he was meant to be there. You whine when he bottoms out, your sensitive clit bumping into his pelvic bone. You’re so warm and inviting, Hyunjae feels like he’s falling under a spell. Just being inside of you feels like a form of hypnosis. If it was up to him, he’d stay here forever, content to sit with his cock stuffed in you without interruption. But you both yearn for more than that.

He tightens his grip on your hips, bucking upwards into you and watching with heavy eyes as a whine spills from your lips. You look so fucked out despite him doing absolutely nothing to you yet. He thrusts up again experimentally, grinning when your upper half knocks into his.

“Feel good, baby?” He coos into your ear, nipping at the lobe and the area surrounding.

You nod with a whimper when his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside your pussy. “Mhm, feels so— fuck, Jae, want it harder.”

“Anything for my pretty girl,” he smiles into your skin.

He increases the speed that he fucks into you, pinning down your hips so you can’t move and all you can do is take it. It’s like you can feel him in your abdomen, his cock plunging in you so far. You’d think after a month of fucking practically every day, you’d be used to his size by now. However, that was just not attainable. You don’t think you could ever get used to how big he was, how thick he was.

The force that he drives into you with is unmatched, miles apart from what he’s given you before. It’s like he wants to burn the shape of himself inside you, so you never forget that he’s the one making you feel like this. Nobody but Hyunjae can fuck you this well.

He moves you further up the bed, flattening his feet on the mattress and laying down so he can press deeper, a new angle that has your vision going blank. You don’t think twice about the volume of your cries, letting him know how good he’s giving it to you. You’re encouraging him, wanting him to get cockier so he can keep fucking you into oblivion. Your fingers grasp at the sheets beside his head for support.

Hyunjae’s nails impress crescent shapes into your waist, his mouth returning to your tits so he can leave his own marks all over your chest. It’s when your clit rubs against his lower stomach again that you let go, your orgasm crashing into like a train. It winds you, ripping your breath from your throat and stealing your oxygen. He’s close behind, the feeling of your walls clenching around him in rapid intervals triggering his own.

He fills you up nicely, both of you releasing guttural groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. You’re too exhausted to get up, collapsing on top of him. He doesn’t mind, more than happy to stay buried inside of you even if you didn’t do anything.

“So…” You start after a bit of silence, drawing unrecognizable shapes on his chest. “You’ve wanted me for so long, huh?”

“Shut up,” he laughs, eyes closed while he recuperates from using all of his energy on you. “This is still new for me.”

“I know, Mr. Emotionally Constipated And I Don’t Date ‘Cause I’m Going To Be A Big Fancy Hotshot Lawyer,” you tease, pecking his lips and then his nose. “I must be extremely special to be the one who changed your mind.”

“You’ll be the death of me, you know that right?” He shakes his head, brushing some of your hair from your face. You smile down at him with an unfamiliar fondness in your eyes.

“Why else do you think we’ve gotten this far?”

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn #blackoutorbackout🍻

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moodymelanist · 1 year

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My Fire Was Fate With You

so... instead of finishing the many, MANY wips I have floating around, I decided to go for a little genderbent acotar action. hope you all enjoy female!cassian and nesta<3

Summary: Nesta lets Feyre set her up on (yet another) blind date, but her sister fails to mention the most important detail: her friend Cass is a woman.

(Or, the one where female!Cassian and Nesta get together)

Word Count: 4,445 words

Read on AO3 here!

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Nesta

Nesta sighed heavily once she realized her phone was ringing in the middle of her workout. Sighing, she changed her treadmill settings so she was walking at a reasonable pace instead of sprinting so hard that she worried her sports bra would snap.

“Hello?” she answered, hoping she didn’t sound too out of breath.

“Hey, Nesta!” Feyre replied. Her sister sounded way too chipper for six in the evening, so Nesta figured she must be at happy hour or something. “How’s it going?”

“I’m wonderful, you’re wonderful,” Nesta responded, rolling her eyes with affection. She loved her sister, but she knew Feyre only tended to call when she wanted something instead of just texting. “Get to the point, please. I’m at the gym.”

“Fine, fine,” Feyre agreed with a laugh. “I volunteered you for a blind date with one of my friends.”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta immediately shot it down. “Do you not remember how the last ones went? Because I do.”

Feyre had tried to set Nesta up with her friend Lucien a few months prior, which had been so awkward that Nesta had texted Elain begging her to show up at the restaurant to save her. Lucien had taken one look at Elain and declared on the spot that it was love at first sight, and Elain – instead of sticking to the script and acting like she’d had a serious emergency – had shooed Nesta away from the table and taken her spot instead. They’d been going steady ever since, and Nesta couldn’t even find it in her to be mad at her sister for finding her soul mate or whatever. She and Lucien were just so clearly made for each other that the incident was funny instead of infuriating.

After that, though, there was Azriel. She hadn’t met another man in such dire need of therapy since her last conversation with her father, and considering Owain had been six feet under for years, she supposed Azriel could take the top spot. She hadn’t spoken to Feyre for a week after that, and she’d made her sister promise to stop trying to use her matchmaking skills.

Skills had been a generous word. Clearly, so had that promise.

“Come on, Nesta,” Feyre wheedled. Nesta could practically hear her pouting over the phone. “I know I promised, but Cass is nothing like those other guys!”

Nesta just sighed and turned her treadmill settings up slightly. She was clearly going to need the extra workout. “Oh yeah? What’s he like, then?”

“That would defeat the purpose of a blind date,” Feyre told her, deflecting the question with ease. “Just give it a chance, please? I absolutely promise it’ll be the last blind date I’ll send you on.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“...A chance at finding true love and happiness?”

“That’s rich, even for you.”

“Ugh. I’ll pay for your dinner?”

“Fine. Tell me when and where to be.”

“Yay! I promise you won’t regret it!”

“Whatever. I’m going to finish my workout.”

“I love you so much, Nesta! I’ll Venmo you.”

“Love you too, but only if you Zelle me. Bye.”

Nesta sighed as she hung up the phone, already feeling drained. The things she’d do for her sister never failed to amaze her.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

True to her word, Feyre sent Nesta more than enough to cover the dinner she’d coerced Nesta into attending. She also sent Nesta over all the details for the blind date, which was how Nesta found herself at one of the nicer restaurants in downtown Velaris a few days later. She’d put in a little more effort than usual since Feyre had seemed so eager for her to say yes, deciding to leave her hair down, put on a little more makeup than usual, and wear her favorite sweater dress and boots.

When she walked into the restaurant, there were a few people waiting around, but no one that matched her usual type. She pulled out her phone and checked the time – it was 7:23, so her date had a few minutes to arrive still – and would’ve been content to wait, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

“Nesta?”

Nesta turned at the sound of her name and her jaw dropped of its own accord. Feyre hadn’t given too many details about who she was setting Nesta up with this time, but her sister had failed to inform her of one very important detail.

The person standing in front of her was another woman.

Granted, she was a very attractive woman, but she was still a woman. Her hair wasn’t as long as Nesta’s, but her curls looked soft and shiny underneath the restaurant lighting. She was wearing a patterned blue shirt tucked into a pair of dark blue pants, and she’d left so many buttons unfastened that Nesta wondered just how much faith she had in the shirt.

“Hi,” she said with a grin. Nesta only had to tilt her head up slightly to make eye contact, which was a feat in and of itself considering she was 5’8. “I’m Cassandra, but everyone calls me Cass for short. You’re even more gorgeous in person.”

Nesta felt like her brain was short-circuiting, but she managed to return Cass’ handshake before introducing herself. Feyre had to be playing a joke on her — right? “Right. Um. I’m Nesta. Would you excuse me for a second?”

She shoved her coat into the other woman’s arms and dug her phone out of her purse, already dialing her sister’s number as she stalked her way to the bathroom. This was low, even for Feyre, and she was determined to give her sister a piece of her mind the moment that phone call connected.

“Hello?” Feyre answered on the second ring.

“Feyre Lynette Archeron,” Nesta hissed into the phone, her heart pounding in her chest. “What the fuck?”

“Hello to you too, Nesta Rhea Archeron,” Feyre replied pleasantly, like Nesta wasn’t ready to throttle her through the screen. “You must’ve met Cass. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Nesta snapped, trying hard to keep her voice down. She didn’t know if anyone else was in the bathroom, and she didn’t want any more people overhearing this conversation than necessary. “I think you can go fuck yourself. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, Nesta.” Feyre took a deep breath like she was trying to keep her own temper in check. “I was just…”

Nesta pinched the bridge of her nose. “You were just what?”

“I was just trying to help,” Feyre responded. She sounded like she was gritting her teeth, and Nesta felt a glimmer of satisfaction that her sister was just as irritated as she was. “You’ve always had shit luck with men. You don’t even sound like you like them very much, not even in a ‘haha I hate men but at least the dick is good’ kind of way like the rest of us. Have you ever considered that maybe… you’re just not that into them?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Nesta seethed, indignant. Of course she liked men. Maybe she wasn’t as touchy-feely as Feyre was with Rhys, and maybe she didn’t enjoy sex with her boyfriends as much as Elain seemed to with Lucien — was that a crime? “You need to stay out of my fucking business.”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, I promise,” Feyre told her. “I just thought maybe you’d do better with another option, and I didn’t want to scare you off by asking you ahead of time.”

“That’s a really strange way of saying I’m sorry,” Nesta snarked. “I’m not gay, and if you’d bothered to run this by me ahead of time, you could’ve saved me and your friend both our time.”

“Come on, Nesta,” Feyre attempted to cajole her. “Cass is really cool! She’s hilarious, she’s smart, she can cook, and she’s gorgeous. If you don’t want it to be a date, you could at least try being her friend.”

“She came here expecting a date, and you didn’t even do her the decency of telling her that I’m not into women,” Nesta whisper-yelled, any goodwill Feyre may have earned rapidly evaporating once again. “You owe both of us apologies, Feyre. I hope you’re happy, because this is the last blind date you’re ever setting me up on.”

It was supremely satisfying to hang up on Feyre after that, and Nesta took a few more moments to collect herself in the bathroom before she could even think of leaving to face Cass again. What was she supposed to even say? Sorry, my sister thought I was a closeted lesbian and decided to set me up on a date with a woman without telling me. Do you want any appetizers?

The entire situation was preposterous. Nesta had never had any reason to question her sexuality, and she wasn’t going to start now. Surely everyone admired the female form – it was more symmetrical than the male one, that was for sure. And a lot of people were like Nesta when it came to physical touch, something she blamed on her parents for not being nearly as affectionate as she needed growing up. That didn’t mean she wasn’t straight.

Either way, she needed to get herself together. She was Nesta Archeron, for fuck’s sake — she’d survived law school, so she could certainly survive whatever painfully awkward interaction she was going to have. She allowed herself one more deep breath before turning and walking out of the bathroom entirely, easily spotting Cass still waiting for her near the entrance.

Cass perked up once she noticed Nesta had returned from the bathroom, but her excitement quickly dimmed once she noticed the look on Nesta’s face. “I take it Feyre didn’t tell you everything?”

“She failed to mention a few things, yeah,” Nesta replied shortly. She forced herself to take a deep breath before meeting the other woman’s gaze. “Sorry. That’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“It’s fine,” Cass answered. She put her hands in her pockets just for something to do, and Nesta struggled not to be obvious about how she was tracking the way those golden brown muscles flexed in the process.

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Cass took a deep breath and handed Nesta back her coat, clearly preparing herself to say something. Whatever it was, Nesta could at least do her the courtesy of hearing her out. No matter how mad she was at her sister, she didn’t need to take it out on some random stranger.

“Look, I’m not going to pressure you into anything or whatever,” Cass said, her hazel eyes soft as she looked at Nesta. “But we’re already here, right? Let’s just have a nice dinner and we can go our separate ways after if you really hate me so much.”

“Okay,” Nesta replied after a minute. She resolutely ignored the way Cass’ answering smile made her palms feel clammy. “And for the record, I don’t hate you. My sister just can’t help minding other people’s business.”

“Yeah, my brothers are the same way,” Cass responded with a little laugh. “My entire family, really. Fucking meddlers.”

They made their way over to the hostess after that, Cass standing back to let Nesta go first as they made their way to their table. They’d been lucky enough to get a secluded little booth, and Nesta sighed happily once she realized she realized she was right next to one of the vents. She’d always ran cold, especially when she got nervous, and she needed all the extra help she could get right now.

“So,” Cass said once they’d ordered drinks and an appetizer.

“So,” Nesta replied, the nerves coming back with a vengeance. Cass looked even more beautiful under the mood lighting of the restaurant, and it was almost too easy to get lost in those hazel eyes. “How do you know Feyre?”

“We go to the same kickboxing class,” Cass answered easily. “I’m how she met Rhys, actually.”

Nesta vaguely remembered hearing about this. “Oh, that’s right. So I guess the real question is how do you know Rhys?”

“He’s basically my brother,” Cass responded with a wry tilt of her mouth. “My dad was never in the picture, and my mom died when I was in middle school. Rhys’ family took me in.”

“Oh,” Nesta said. “I’m glad you had them.”

“Yeah, me too.” Cass took a deep sip of her cocktail before changing the topic. “I would ask how you know Feyre, but you don’t seem like you like stupid questions.”

Nesta laughed despite herself. “I don’t, but I’ll humor you anyway. She’s my youngest sister, and definitely the most annoying out of the three of us.”

“Cut her some slack,” Cass joked, mirroring Nesta’s smile. “You know youngest siblings can’t help it.”

“I wish she would try,” Nesta joked right back. “You wouldn’t believe just how bad she is once she decides to meddle.”

Cass just smirked in a way that made Nesta’s body tense with anticipation. “Well, I can’t say I’m complaining.”

They took a break from their conversation once their appetizer arrived, taking a few minutes to order their entrees and dig into the food before them. Nesta found herself staring too long at Cass, especially her fingers as she popped a piece of calamari into her mouth, and desperately fought the blush that was taking over her cheeks. If Cass noticed, she thankfully didn’t say anything.

“So what do you do?” Nesta asked curiously.

“I’m a teacher,” Cass answered proudly. Fuck, Nesta really liked that. “I teach world history to a bunch of hormonal high schoolers, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. How about you?”

“I’m a lawyer,” Nesta responded. “I’ve been at my firm for about four years now.”

Cass reached for another piece of calamari. “No time to date, then?”

“What?” Nesta asked, confused. She reached for her own piece just for something to do, flushing again when she realized Cass was tracking her movements the same way Nesta had done to her only a few minutes ago. “I… are we not on a date right now?”

“So you’re counting this as a date, then?” Cass fired back, amused. “And don’t mind me. I’m just trying to figure out a good explanation for why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I – no,” Nesta replied. Cass was clearly having fun with the new topic, but Nesta wouldn’t let herself be so easily flustered. “Feyre’s an asshole. I’m not into women.”

“You sure?” Cass leaned forward with a grin and Nesta had to fight to keep her eyes away from all the skin suddenly on display. “I don’t think she would have set us up if that was true, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nesta said with a scowl. Based on the look of pure glee on Cass’ face, Nesta knew immediately that it had been the wrong thing to say, and she resigned herself to hearing the nickname for the rest of the evening. “And what happened to not pressuring me into anything?”

“Nobody’s pressuring you,” Cass replied, the portrait of serenity as she leaned back into her chair. “But you’ve been looking at me a little too much to say you don’t like women.”

“Because I don’t,” Nesta insisted. She took a sip of her cocktail and let the alcohol settle her nerves a little bit. “I’ve dated men my whole life!”

“Yeah, because that’s the determining factor,” Cass replied with a playful roll of her eyes. “Case closed, your honor.”

They took another break from the conversation to dig into their food as it arrived – eggplant parm for Cass, and spaghetti and meatballs for Nesta – but Nesta knew the reprieve wouldn’t last for long. Cass was clearly having fun needling Nesta, and despite her best efforts, Nesta would admit this maybe sort of date was more fun than she’d been expecting.

“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Cass said as she twirled spaghetti on her fork. “I mean, I didn’t figure out that I was lesbian until my freshman year of college. I wasted so much time trying to convince myself otherwise.”

“What?” Nesta replied, shocked that Cass could be so open about this. “But – what do you mean?”

“I hated men touching me,” Cass answered. “I mean, I didn’t mind when my friends touched me or whatever. But don’t even get me started on how much the sex fucking sucked.”

“Sucked…how?” Nesta asked cautiously, suddenly hanging onto every word. This was hitting a little too close to home for her, but she didn’t want to examine yet just how close it was.

“I mean, if you hate being touched by men, no shit you’re not gonna enjoy fucking them,” Cass responded bluntly. She took a quick pause to take a bite of her food. “Don’t get me wrong, nobody ever forced me to do anything or whatever, but it just felt like something I was supposed to enjoy when it always felt like more of a chore.”

“But doesn’t everyone think that?” Nesta followed up, confused. She knew she’d grown up with some pretty antiquated ideals thanks to her mother, but she’d always just assumed her female friends had been exaggerating about how much they liked having sex for the sake of their partner’s egos. “Happy husband, happy life and all that.”

Cass stared at her for a few moments like she couldn’t believe what Nesta was saying. “Oh, sweetheart. No .”

“It’s not even your business,” Nesta replied, suddenly embarrassed. What the hell was she doing, talking to a stranger about her sex life in the middle of a nice restaurant? “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this.”

“I think you know,” Cass told her seriously. At the sheer panic that must have been coming off Nesta, she abruptly changed tactics, that familiar smirk coming back as she added, “but in case you don’t, I’d be delighted to educate you.”

“Shut up.” Nesta studiously ignored the sound of Cass laughing as she aggressively dug into her food, cheeks burning all the while. “I have a professional degree. I don’t need more educating.”

“I’m just saying,” Cass continued to tease her, still laughing. “As a teacher, I think you’d benefit from a more hands-on approach.”

“With lines like that, I’d hate to see your performance reviews,” Nesta retorted with a roll of her eyes.

“Trust me, they’re all glowing,” Cass fired back with a smug look. “I’d be more than happy to show you my references.”

“Oh my God,” Nesta huffed, laughing again. “That’s fucking awful.”

Cass just waggled her eyebrows, and Nesta noticed she had a scar cutting through the right one that only added to her appeal. “That’s the only time I’ll let you put fucking and awful in the same sentence when it comes to me. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly, the two of them bantering back and forth and keeping the laughing going for the rest of the meal. Cass even grabbed the bill before Nesta could pretend to reach for her wallet.

“You know, for someone who won’t see what’s right in front of her, I had a really good time tonight,” Cass said once they left the restaurant. They’d both parked in the same garage, so it made sense to keep walking together until they reached their cars.

“I… actually had a pretty good time, too,” Nesta admitted. It was true – Cass was hilarious, and she had a way of lowering Nesta’s defenses with every well-timed joke. It definitely didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes, and she’d given Nesta a lot to think about tonight even if they never saw each other again.

“Enough to hang out again?” Cass asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Nesta answered, looking down at her feet. It was almost too hard to look at Cass, almost like staring at the sun for too long. “You gave me a lot to think about.”

“Playing hard to get,” Cass replied, her voice light. “I see how it is, sweetheart.”

Nesta just laughed as they walked inside the garage, quickly making their way toward the elevator. “I’m being serious! I really do have a lot to think about.”

“Don’t hurt yourself with all that thinking,” Cass teased with her own laugh. She maneuvered herself so she was standing in front of Nesta, those hazel eyes suddenly so close that Nesta could see the flecks of green in them. “Can I kiss you?”

Nesta swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly she wondered if Cass could hear it. “Um…”

“I’m a big girl,” Cass said with the ghost of a smile. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you say no. I was just wondering if it would help with all that thinking you have to do.”

“I’m not saying no,” Nesta eventually replied. What would it hurt to say yes, anyway? She could easily prove Cass – and Feyre – wrong and go on with her life as usual. “Just… go slow.”

“I can do slow,” Cass agreed, and then she was leaning in before Nesta had the chance to second-guess herself.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut of their own accord once their lips touched, and it was like every nerve ending was suddenly lit up. Cass’ lips were warm and soft and gentle as they moved against Nesta’s, and Nesta found herself stepping closer so she could feel the other woman’s body pressed against hers. She’d never felt like this kissing any of the guys she’d dated, especially not the first one, and it was all she could do to keep her hands to herself once she felt Cass’ tongue against hers.

Oh. Oh. Maybe she had been missing out all this time. If the kissing felt this good, maybe she could finally understand why Feyre and Elain were constantly throwing themselves at their boyfriends.

Cass pressed one last kiss to Nesta’s lips before pulling away, her hazel eyes warily assessing Nesta’s face. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Nesta eventually answered, trying her best to pull herself together and failing miserably. Fuck. She wanted more, and she would do anything to get it. “Actually… really good.”

“Yeah?” Cass replied, her smile slowly growing wider the longer they looked at each other. “Maybe Feyre had a point, huh?”

“You don’t have to be so smug about it,” Nesta grumbled. God, Feyre was going to be insufferable once Nesta told her about this.

“I think I’m allowed to be smug about it,” Cass fired back, her smile turning into more of a smirk. “It’s not every day that you’re someone’s gay awakening.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again,” Nesta ordered.

Cass thankfully didn’t waste any more time bickering. She leaned in for another kiss, and Nesta let herself actually touch Cass the way she wanted to a few minutes ago. One hand moved up to cup the side of Cass’ face, while the other slid its way down to her hip, tentatively exploring the curve of her body. It felt… good.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” Nesta blurted out before she could stop herself.

Cass lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah, definitely. What floor are you parked on?”

They held hands the entire walk back to their cars, and the kiss Cass left her with had Nesta’s lips tingling all the way back to her apartment. Thankfully, she’d taken the time to clean up before she left for the date, so when they eventually made their way upstairs, Nesta didn’t have to awkwardly scramble to clean anything.

“Nice place,” Cass said, looking around with clear appreciation.

“Thanks,” Nesta responded. She felt a little exposed having Cass here – she almost never took people back to her place – but she shoved it down before shifting into hostess mode. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water’s okay,” Cass answered with a smile.

Nesta headed toward the kitchen to grab them both something to drink, and when she came back into the living room, Cass had slipped out of her coat and shoes to wait for her on the couch. Nesta did the same once she got close enough, gently placing the glasses on the coffee table before making herself comfortable and draping her legs across the other woman’s lap.

Instead of immediately pouncing on one another, they ended up settling on the couch to talk first. Nesta had never connected so quickly with someone, and her sister’s assessment of Cass rang true the entire time. Not only was she even funnier when they were behind closed doors, but Nesta found herself gravitating toward Cass with every gentle sweep of her thumb against Nesta’s ankle.

When they did finally pounce on one another… Nesta didn’t think she had the proper words to describe her experience. She’d never been so relaxed and exhausted at the same time, but she wasn’t so tired that she forgot that she owed her sister a text. Reaching over Cass’ equally relaxed frame, she dug around for her phone and pulled it out to send a few quick texts Feyre’s way.

Nesta Archeron, 1:19 AM

Hey

I owe you a huge apology.

You were right and I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I know you were just trying to help, and I’m sorry for freaking out.

Anyways. I think I might be lesbian?

It was the first time Nesta had said the words out loud to somebody else, and her heart pounded as she pressed send for the final time. It felt like so many things were suddenly making sense, and while she couldn’t believe she’d spent so much time trying to convince herself she liked men, she knew it was part of the journey.

Besides, if the journey ended with the number of orgasms Nesta had had tonight, it had been more than worth it.

Surprisingly, Feyre texted back within a few minutes of Nesta’s last text delivering. Unsurprisingly, she was even smugger than Cass had been after their first kiss.

Feyre Archeron, 1:21 AM

YES I KNEW IT !!!!!!

Seriously so happy for you though Nesta !!!!!

I love u and thanks for trusting me with this !!!!

& it’s all good about earlier. I’ll hold back on more I told you so's if you buy me breakfast tomorrow<3

Assuming you can walk once Cass is through with you ��

Nesta just snorted before she sent Feyre a selfie, complete with both her and Cass flipping off the camera.

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #female!cassian #lesbian!nessian #alternate universe #moodymelanistwrites #⭐️

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randomwriting-misc · 2 years

Text

Endangered | Chapter Nine

Paul Lahote x OFC

Summary: Vampires and wolves are not the only supernatural creatures to walk the earth, and they are certainly not the only ones in Forks, Washington when Charlotte Annabeth Swan, "Anna", moves in with her uncle after the unfortunate demise of her parents.

Some may misidentify her as a witch, but that’s fine, she would rather them think that anyway. But the Volturi know the truth, and they are closing in on her.

November

I take a deep breath as I sit on the beach. Closing my eyes to focus on the energy around me, setting my hands down on either side of me, I feel a low hum of the magic running through the sand. When I start to see light through my eyelids, I slowly open them.

Little golden threads are everywhere, showing their connections. With so many pieces of sand on the beach, it just looks like a sea of gold. The threads in the water move with the waves. There are even gold threads coming from me, connecting myself to my surroundings. If I focus hard enough, I can pick these threads up. Twirling some around my fingers, I pull them towards me, creating a huge wave crashing on the beach.

Another thread leaves me and leads behind me. I follow it with my eyes, all the way to Paul. This is probably how I can feel his emotions, and he can feel mine. I touch it lightly, and his head darts in my direction, meeting my eyes, panic sends its way through the thread, and I smile at him, reassuring him everything is fine. Nodding, he goes back to helping Sam bring out the food Emily made.

I return to looking over the ocean. Usually doing this drains me, I had been going to local parks or the more common trails to explore the connections, but here, it energizes me. Like the waves welcome me with every break. I pull them closer and closer to me until the cold water touches my toes.

“Anna?” A soft voice breaks me out of the spell, and I jump a bit despite myself.

“Sorry,” I say, recognizing Paul’s presence behind me.

“What were you doing?” He sits down next to me, and I instinctively lean into him.

“Just taking a moment, I haven’t been here in a bit.”

“Maybe you should stop working yourself so hard then,” he puts an arm around me, letting me lay my head on his shoulder.

“Paul...”

“Seriously Anna. In the last two months, I don’t think I’ve seen you take a break once.”

“I’m taking a break now, “I point out.

“This barely counts,” he says. He’s told me he can feel how tired I am. He’s started driving me to school again just so I can sleep a few extra minutes, and worried that I wasn’t able to focus on the road.

I don’t have a response, even though I can admit that Bella’s situation had worsened. Before, I had been concerned when she couldn’t make it through the night without screaming, but now, I was exasperated. There was nothing I could do. Countless hours of studying magic and I had come up with nothing for a broken soul. Paul sighs and pulls me closer.

“You don’t have to do this by yourself, you’re pushing yourself because you think you are vulnerable. You aren’t. You have us,” his tone is serious.

“You have bigger things to worry about,” I say, but he just shakes his head.

“You are the only thing I worry about.” There is a finality in his statement, and I don’t push back. We sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the waves crash onto the shore. Paul’s warmth keeps away the chill in the air, and I know I’ll be sad when the snow starts to sick. Even now, there was ice and slush everywhere.

Hearing Sam call our names, we head back to them, hand in hand. Emily, ever the caretaker she was, had started enforcing weekly dinners or hangouts as a pack. Giving the boys, and me, a reprieve for a small amount of time.

“Promise me for your birthday, you’ll really take a break? No reading, no studying, no practicing. Just for the day? And then get a full night of sleep?” Paul asks before getting closer to the group.

“The only way that’ll happen is if I’m not home,” I mention.

“Hm, well it’s a good thing you have a close friend with a whole house and extra bedrooms.”

“I can’t stay over at Emily’s house every weekend, plus it’s the day after a holiday. She might have plans.”

“Yeah, her plans are with us, everyone, including Charlie, is invited over to the Clearwater’s. And really, your birthday is the holiday.”

“Are you insinuating you have something planned?” I ask.

“Of course, I do,” he gives me an incredulous look, “You really think I wouldn’t?”

“No, I just think that maybe it’s unnecessary,” I say, shrugging, “With everything going on, it seems trivial.”

“Nothing about your birthday is trivial.”

---------------------------

We finally are back to the group, ending our conversation. I give Kim a hug, sitting down next to her. She’s a quiet girl, but incredibly kind. Jared was in fact, head over heels for her. It was almost too sweet to poke fun at like he used to with Paul. Almost.

My birthday was the Friday after Thanksgiving, and personally, I did not have high hopes for the day. With Bella still in her depressive state, and Charlie so focused on her, I felt selfish to want to acknowledge it. It was the first birthday I would spend without my parents, and I would legally be an adult. Charlie really didn’t owe me anything after that.

Paul made it known he thought that that was absolutely out of the question, and I was to be ready by noon to go over to Emily’s. Charlie was already informed of the plans.

Thanksgiving was a tense affair. Paul had given me the rundown on Leah and Sam, and my heart broke for her. They couldn’t avoid each other, and as much as I wanted to be friends with Leah, I didn’t know how she would react to me.

What Paul failed to mention was that his father would be there as well.

“You can’t just spring meeting your dad on me!” I gaped at him from the passenger’s seat of my car.

“Anna, we are constantly together, eventually he was going to start asking about you. The only reason I haven’t brought you to my house is because I knew he would ask you a million questions,” he was surprisingly calm about this, not even looking away from the road.

“Does he know?”

“About the wolf thing? Yeah, I shifted in front of him the first time, and he knows that you’re my imprint. He already loves you, don’t worry.”

“I would have, I don’t know, looked nicer?” I looked down at my plain jeans and sweater, with just a simple long sleeve underneath. This was supposed to be a casual affair.

“You look gorgeous, stop worrying,” Paul says grabbing my hand, but I glared at him.

“Remind me to make Emily yell at you,” I said looking away from him, but not letting go of his hand. He chuckled lowly, promising to remind me.

His dad is the first person to greet us as we park in front of Sue and Harry’s house, cars already lined up in the driveway. He calls out our names, a smile brightening his face. One can definitely see the resemblance to his son. He was tall and muscular for a guy his age, probably mid-fifties, with the same sharp jaw and nose. His hair was long and pulled back into a braid, and he and Paul had the same color eyes. Walking over to us, he stops in front of me.

“Hi, I’m Anna.” I hold out my hand, but he ignores it, wrapping me in a hug.

“Anna! I’m so glad Paul finally brought you around!” he exclaims, “All I ever hear about is Anna this, Anna that, oh dad Anna is so amazing.” He laughs, letting me go, he is about to begin speaking when Paul interrupts.

“Okay! Thank you dad for that,” he says, and his dad gives him a hug as well.

“No, wait, I’d love to hear more about this Mr. Lahote,” I smirk, sticking my tongue out at Paul when he shoots me a glare, putting a hand on his dad’s shoulder

He slaps his son’s hand away, guiding me inside the house. Paul follows us with a heavy sigh.

“Please, call me Terrence, or Terry. Now Anna, tell me, is Paul being good to you? He may be six foot five now, but I can still teach him a lesson,” he whispers to me.

“I’m sure you could, but really, he’s amazing.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m so happy he has you. His attitude has been a complete 180. But enough about him, tell me about yourself, Anna.”

We fall into an easy conversation before he is pulled away by Billy Black, asking about a carburetor, which is mostly lost on me. I float around, saying my hellos to the myriad of people in the house.

Harry beckons me over when Leah appears out of her room, sulking in the corner.

“Leah, meet Anna, Charlie’s niece. You met when you were little before,” he says, trying to coax Leah away from the wall.

“Nice to see you again Leah,” I say, giving her a warm smile, but she is steadfast in her sour mood. Honestly, I can’t blame her entirely. Sam and Emily are sitting at the table, and while they are sure to keep their PDA to a minimum, it still must hurt.

“Hi,” she says stoically.

There’s an awkward silence, but Charlie finally makes an appearance, calling me from across the room, I politely excuse myself and make my way over to him.

“Hey, is it just you?” I already know the answer, but I ask anyway.

“Yeah,” Charlie says with a frustrated sigh. He gives me a side hug, and I notice how sallow and tired his face looks. It makes me feel even worse like I’m an added burden on top of his broken daughter. At least he came and can be around his friends for the day, not worrying about running upstairs to shake Bella out of yet another nightmare.

I find Paul standing next to Sam and make my way towards him, letting myself enjoy the rest of the day.

-----------------------------------

On the morning of my birthday, I am awakened by a familiar knock on the door. Sitting up in bed, Charlie enters the room, somewhat awkwardly as always.

“Hey, happy birthday,” he says.

I force a smile, and he sits down on the edge of my bed, an envelope in his hands.

“I’m going to give you your gift later, but there’s something I figured you would want now,” his voice is hoarse like he is holding in sadness. I look at him in confusion as he hands me the letter, and a small gasp chokes me, my fingers ghosting over the familiar handwriting.

To Anna, on your 18th Birthday.

“It’s something your parent’s lawyer gave to me when you moved here. There’s some other stuff too, legal documents and things that now pass to you, but that can wait,” Charlie explains.

I’m still speechless on my bed.

“Paul and Emily have told me about their plans for today. So, don’t feel bad about not being here today. I’m sure it won’t be as much fun-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around him in a hug.

“Thank you, for everything,” I say into his shoulders, tears threatening to fall.

“Of course, I know things have been rough around here, but I want you to know I love you, and I will always be here for you,” he says hugging me back tightly.

“I know, I love you.”

“I love you too kid, I’ll give you a moment,” he says, and I nod. I stare at the letter until I hear Charlie’s footsteps down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, I brace myself as I open the letter.

My Dear Anna,

If you’re reading this, it means that unfortunately, we are gone. I am so sorry your dad and I are not there for your birthday, and for every accomplishment and holiday next. My greatest wish it that I had more time to prepare you for this. I know you are strong, but to put you through this is my deepest regret.

You are my pride and joy, Anna. We love you more than anything on this Earth. I hope that we have given you enough happy memories to hold close to you and to know that no matter what, we will always be proud of you and what path you choose in this life.

It may be sad that we are separated now, but we know that souls have ties that last over lifetimes, and I can only hope that one day we are reunited. Until then, find happiness, find love, and allow yourself to accept it. You deserve nothing less than the world.

I know you have questions, but there is one thing you need to know above all else: beware of the Volturi. Do not trust them. Their kind has run us off before, and I fear their bloodlust has been reignited.

Someone got too close to us, and I’m trying my best to throw them off our trail, but they are many, and I am only one person. If I do not survive, know that they do not know about you, your dad and I agreed to protect you above all else. Forks should be safe for you, but I urge you to learn what you can and protect yourself in our absence.

We love you so much. Be brave my girl.

Love,

Mom and Dad

Tears fall down my face as I try to balance my emotions, careful to not trigger a reaction to alert Paul. Behind her letter is torn pages from a notebook, detailing information on who the Volturi were, their leader, and their powers. The trips my mother was taking were to lure them to a certain city before disappearing, throwing off their trail. Somehow, they found her anyway.

It hurts me to know that Forks wasn’t as safe as she thought, but at least I’m not alone. I think she would have loved the people I had learned to call family. She did her best to protect me, and I’m going to do my best to protect them.

Read Chapter Ten Here

Taglist: @abaker74

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malon235 · 1 year

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Of Visions and Hearts

A #thomato Drabble

(This was originally a threadfic I wrote for Twitter but it was just too long. Figure this would be a nice first real post on Tumblr instead!)

*~*~*

By order of the Almighty Shogun, the person selected as the 100th vision seizure under the Vision Hunt Decree is Thoma, housekeeper and retainer of the Kamisato clan.

The words of the report were branded into Ayato’s brain, the simple sheet of parchment handed to him by one of his shuumatsuban ninjas just before he retired for the evening.

Does he dare tell Thoma of his fate? Does he try to hide his lover away, risking the wrath of the Shogunate upon his family, his clan, the entire commission? He does not know…

Thoma slips into their room, silent as always, never wanting to disturb him in case he is already asleep. When emerald eyes spot him, sitting up with his head in his hands, he hums with curiosity.

“Love, what’s wrong?” the housekeeper asks quietly, dropping to his knees at the side of the futon, reaching out to pull Ayato’s hands away from his face, revealing his panicked expression.

Ayato groans, still unable to decide how to proceed. “I… nothing,” he stammers, shaking his head and placing as genuine of a smile on his face as he can. “It’s nothing, just a long day.”

Thoma raises an eyebrow, skeptical of the sudden response, and suspicious of the obviously forced smile on his lover’s face. “Ok… if you’re sure it’s nothing.”

“I promise, everything is just fine,” Ayato lies smoothly, gesturing to the bed with a nod of his head. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep.”

With a sigh, Thoma concedes that there’s nothing more he can do to pry, and quickly strips off his clothing and slips into his sleepwear before joining Ayato in their bed.

Even with Thoma wrapped securely in his arms, Ayato can’t get the message out of his thoughts, and he lays awake for hours.

Thoma. Their next target is Thoma. They’re going to take his vision, and then…

Thoma… my dear Thoma will be…

Gone? Lost forever?

Ayato shudders, a picture of his lover with dull, deadened eyes, the light stolen from his emerald orbs with the loss of his life’s ambition. An empty shell doomed to walk the nation with no reason to exist.

Thoma shifts in his embrace, and his sleep-worn voice permeates Ayato’s thoughts. “Ayato, please tell me what is bothering you…”

“Thoma… love, please don’t make me say it...” Ayato whimpers, still not wanting to breathe life into the message by speaking it aloud.

“You can’t sleep, so obviously it’s something serious,” Thoma replies, propping himself up on an elbow to stare at him. “Just tell me, maybe I can help.”

“That’s the thing, there’s nothing you can do to help this…” Ayato can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the anguish of what is to come tearing at his very soul.

Thoma chuckles, still blissfully unaware of the truth. “Come on, there’s nothing that we can’t take care of if we do it together, right?”

Ayato’s resolve snaps, he sits straight up and grabs Thoma by his shoulders, staring directly into those emerald eyes he adores so much. “It’s you, Thoma. The 100th vision… the ceremony tomorrow….”

Silence falls between them as Ayato trembles, shocked at his sudden outburst. Thoma’s eyes widen and the colour drains from his face.

“Me?” Thoma whispers, his voice wavering slightly. “They’ve chosen… me?”

“Yes,” Ayato replies, dropping his eyes to the space between them, tracing the pattern of the blanket. “I found out just before I left my office…”

Thoma sighs, letting out the breath he had been holding. “Well, we both knew it was only a matter of time before they would come for one of us.”

“But Thoma…” Ayato gasps, “I can’t stand to lose you…” His hands shake where they are gripped tightly into the soft shirt covering Thoma’s shoulders.

“You won’t, I promise,” Thoma replies, causing Ayato to look up once more, and he chokes as he sees the tranquil look on Thoma’s face. It’s the look of a person who has seen their fate and decided that there’s no fighting it.

“But…”

“No, love, no buts,” Thoma murmurs, pulling Ayato into his arms and hugging him tightly. “There’s no way I would ever stop loving you, no matter what may happen to me.”

“Thoma, they’re going to take your vision…” Ayato replies, nuzzling his face into the crook of Thoma’s neck, his breath ruffling the soft hairs.

Thoma chuckles again, as if they weren’t discussing the possible end of his very existence. “That’s just it, they’re only taking my vision, they can never steal my heart.”

“How can you know that?”

Thoma pulls them apart, staring directly into Ayato’s violet eyes, his lips curled into a soft smile. “Because, Ayato, you stole my heart long ago, and you hold it with you wherever you go.”

Ayato stares at his lover for several moments before a strained laugh bursts from his throat. Thoma chuckles in response, and they laugh together for a while, falling into each other’s arms once more.

***

The following morning they dress in silence, Thoma helping his lover into his more elaborate outfit while Ayato wrings his hands together nervously.

“You know what to do, yes?”

Thoma nods, pulling his hair back into its usual ponytail and securing it with the stand of red cord. “Don’t resist, don’t fight back, and just go quietly.”

“I’ll have several of my men watching you, they’ll report back to me when it happens and trail you all the way to the ceremony. Just…” Ayato’s voice finally cracks, his emotions seeping out.

“Thank you,” Thoma whispers, wrapping his arms around Ayato’s torso and pulling them together in a tight hug. “I know this is difficult for you, but I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Ayato sighs, pressing a kiss into the side of Thoma’s neck, inhaling his lover’s smoky scent. “Be careful, and come home safe to me, ok?”

Thoma turns his head and captures Ayato’s lips with his, kissing him like it could be their last, before he pulls away. “I will, I promise.”

Their hands are still linked as they make their way from their rooms, Ayato clinging to Thoma’s fingers all the way to the front doors of the estate, not wanting to let him go.

Thoma squeezes their held hands, lifting them to his lips to place one last kiss on Ayato’s knuckles. “See you soon,” he murmurs before turning and leaving the building, the door closing behind him.

Ayato feels his heart clench, and for the first time in a long time he prays.

Celestia, please keep him safe, and let my love come home to me.

With Thoma facing his fate, Ayato turns and returns to his office, putting in place the next pieces of the puzzle to hopefully prevent this from happening ever again.

*~*~*

#drabble #genshin impact #genshin thoma #genshin ayato #thomato #slight angst #established relationship #vision hunt ceremony

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nkaffiliatemarketing · 2 years

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Top 15 Weight Loss Myths

There are numerous normal weight reduction legends that individuals live by with regards to their wellbeing. It is troublesome now and again to isolate the weight reduction fantasies and truth based on what is valid. Many sound valid while others are simply ridiculous. I once read some place that assuming you hydrate around evening time that you will put on weight or that in the event that you scratch your head over and over again you will lose your hair....

Weight reduction Myth #1

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Weight reduction Myth #2

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Weight reduction Myth #3

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Since I feel frustrated about pulverizing the hearts of so many twinkie darlings out there, I would agree that this. You can eat unhealthy food, treats, chips, frozen yogurt, pizza, burgers.... Those "soul fulfilling food varieties", yet it ought to be with some restraint. Anything in overabundance is rarely great.

Fat Loss Myth # 4

Skipping dinners is an effective method for getting in shape

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Weight reduction Myth # 5

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Fat Loss Myth # 6

I'm not OK until I get in shape

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Weight reduction Myth # 7

I really want to slice calories to shed pounds quicker

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Fat Loss Myth # 8

Skipping dinners will assist me with shedding pounds

Weight reduction Fact: Skipping dinners may really make you put on weight! You will turn out to be excessively ravenous and will ultimately need to eat. This will knock your digestion off course and will ultimately dial it back. Consider a vehicle running dangerously short on gas (food), on the off chance that you don't top it off, it will ultimately quit working. Same goes for our body, we really want to keep it filled continually.

What Do you want to weight loss get here

Weight reduction Myth # 9

I assume I have hereditary weight gain, it runs in my loved ones!

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Fat Loss Myth # 10

Practicing good eating habits is excessively hard

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What Do you want to weight loss get here

Weight reduction Myth # 11

You need to surrender your number one food varieties to get more fit

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Fat Loss Myth # 12

Gorging is brought about by hunger

Weight reduction Fact: Nice attempt there. If by some stroke of good luck we could fault "hunger" for it. As a matter of fact, this individual we call hunger doesn't have anything to do with you OVEREATING. It could have something to do your body letting you know that the time has come to "fuel up" and that it needs food, however that isn't a sign that one ought to indulge. What makes many individuals indulge are various reasons. One of the fundamental ones is sensation of stress, discouragement, depression, uneasiness, dread, and other downsizing feelings of that nature. Ordinarily food can be a method for fulfilling your necessities. You may be really getting your necessities met through your food varieties. For instance, on the off chance that you carry on with a desolate life, and are extremely upset, food could maybe be a method for you feeling blissful and support. There are different articles that I have composed regarding this matter yet to say the very least gorging isn't cause by being ravenous.

What Do you want to weight loss get here

Weight reduction Myth # 13

Just radical weight control plans work

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Fat Loss Myth # 14

I'm too fat and excessively far in the distance to start

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Weight reduction Myth # 15

I can't make it happen, I have attempted commonly and have fizzled

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What Do you want to weight loss get here

#weightloss weightlossjourney fitness healthylifestyle motivation health healthy workout diet fitnessmotivation healthyfood weightlosstransfo

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

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COMING HOME || OSAMU DAZAI

↳ PAIRING: Osamu Dazai x GN! Reader

↳ TYPE: one-shot

↳ WORD COUNT: 1.9k

↳ WARNINGS: angst, major reader death, blood, murder, mentions of Dazai's suicide attempts, heavy grammar errors

↳ SYNOPSIS: Dazai asks you to not go on a mission, but since you follow through with it, he tries to reach you in time. However, he witnesses your death in front of his eyes.

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTES: i wanted to write angst so this was the outcome, oops. my apologies if this sucks, my writing skills have been kind of draining lately ;-; forgive me

“Please don’t go.”

A simple plea from his voice, yet your mind ruffles through the words. Typically, Dazai’s eyes always kept still; an empty hologram, and he’d usually mark his place with you by brushing sweet nothings near the shell of your ear. Though his behavior was different—a dull blade yet sharp enough to cut skin. And you felt your heart bleed, continuing to inform him that you were capable of handling anything.

Dazai trusted you. Heart still beating; voice cried out loud for mercy yet due to your stubbornness, his voice was never found. Although, he had to be informed by his partner that you would be fine on the mission on your own. Atsushi insisted on tagging along, although the president ordered the others to carry on with their own duties. Yet Dazai only held himself back, not wanting to plead out any further; loud words were unheard.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, cupping his cheeks. The members of the Agency stay still, watching the shaky man act so unusual out of nowhere—a sudden change of character for him. Clearly, they knew how important you were to him, though the way Dazai continued to shiver despite the lack of frostbite.

“If anything happens,” Yosano calls out, raising her voice. She places a palm on Dazai’s desk, not minding the wincing Dazai close to her. “Make sure you run. Don’t fight a fight you can’t win.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” you sigh, forcing a smile to your lover. His eyes meet yours; hazel-lit still dull—brittle bones. “Don’t worry, love.”

“Baby, ple—”

“I’m coming home tonight,” you laugh. “Please don’t worry.”

Dazai kept those words on repeat throughout the day. Eyes washed with a sting of tears, though he never really falters into a fit of sobbing. He was not that type of man. This once. His heart felt funny; nearly throbbing as the clock ticked. A period of anxiety waved through him, with day setting into the night of his soul. Bright sunsets weren’t an outlook on his face, rather so, his colleagues steered away from him—the shaking of his knees was enough to dive back from him.

He glanced down at his cell phone several times, realizing that it was around dinner time. Seven in the evening—at least, Dazai imagined that you’d be at home with him at this hour, twirling glasses and clanking them to declare your love for one another. Not one message or a call came from you. “They’re fine,” Kunikida said, only in hopes of easing Dazai’s weightful stress.

He argued with you, only recalling that there was a funny feeling in his stomach. Normally, this would’ve resulted in a funny situation. But this was different. The colors of his universe were bright, too much saturation even for Dazai’s eyes. Though you were the illuminated exception, only if you remained to be the color to his dull eyes; loss of contrast; a faded brightness.

“Dazai?” Ranpo calls out, poking his head.

He whips his head, startled. “Huh?”

“We should go. Now.”

That was all Ranpo needed to say, with the enlargement of his eyes—a forest of green had lost its color. The cheerful portrayal of Ranpo’s stare was enough to throw Dazai off his feet. He nearly stumbled on his office chair, almost wailing his arms around. With how serious Ranpo looked, the other members hustled on their feet. Soon, they were all out of the door; breathless.

I’m coming home,

I’m coming home.

Dazai believed no life would spring with cherry blossoms once life had stopped existing—regardless of how beautiful death was. He recalled the numerous attempts he had acted upon; nearly a beggar on the edge of his sin, and death shocks one. Sharp lightning striking the vein. The darkest moments before the peek of one’s dawn.

Though, the dark remains heavy on one; filled with fallen shadows of misery. Death was feared by many, though not for Dazai—yet his heart churned in the most uncomfortable ways. You. For the sake of your well-being; completely washed and trapped by someone else. It has always frightened him to the edge; brittle bones and blood-dripped lips.

Tell the world I’m coming home

Let the rain wash all the pain of yesterday

Ranpo figured out where the organization was hidden immediately. Dazai wanted to curse at him—even to the others, but for what cost? The mission was assigned to your trusted abilities. Part of him wished he tagged along; hand wrapped around your hip securely, a fluster of sweet nothings from him would’ve kept you safe, even with a few words. At least, even momentarily—you kept him safe for two years. A secured relationship; with pain washed away, no liquor necessary, as he entered a new world. Barefoot. Soft beginnings, gentle comings—with you. Stuck by his side.

The building was old, nearly crumbled to bits. Spider webs decorated the ceiling quite nicely. And a large echoing scream was heard from the furthest corridor. It didn’t take long for the others to act, with Dazai sprinting to the front. His heart forever burned, even for the last bit of ten minutes of his mind racing. At least, the scream was enough to be heard to locate your destination—that cry was yours. No doubt about it. And his blood boiled; a wither to his gardens; fingers dripping from gripping the thorns.

I know my kingdom awaits

The whole room was tight, yet hollow. The atmosphere remained dreadful, completely out of touch for the light of red brightening up the room. With the aura so bright, Dazai was held back by a force. ‘Most likely the enemy’s ability…’ he thought, and he gasped, watching your body held back by a large figure behind him. Muffled cries were enough to shatter his heart; broken glass enough to damage the strings.

He noticed that the other members were being pushed back—a forcefield, almost, and Dazai couldn't feel the movements of his body anymore. Tapping noises were heard from the outside windows, nearly broken to a harsh crisp—it started to rain; perfect timing. Suitable for the nature his team ended up in. And Dazai felt his bottom lip quivering; completely lost with his mind. ‘What to do…’ he asked himself furiously, for once, not thinking clearly in his life. Brain dusted to a fog.

And they’ve forgiven my mistakes.

“Your pretty little agent can only suffer for so long, huh?” A deep voice was heard from the slim man behind you, groggy-like. Enough to make Dazai’s fist clench in frustration; in hopes of coming up with a demand to set you free. His eyes widened; life starting to fill with sorrow, watching the stranger stare at you—widened eyes and gleeful snickers, “tell me, why is it that the strongest member of the Agency can’t hold their ground?”

“Not true!” Atsushi’s voice echoed from behind, causing the others to wince. Almost gasping in response, as they watched the scene unfold. Nothing was more traumatizing than seeing your body held back by a red force—with them stuck in place. Limbs frozen; chilly. The breeze seemed to be colder than usual.

“Go to hell,” you spat, feeling the dip of the man’s fingers dig into your skin.

Maliciously, the enemy snickers—grin wide; Cheshire cat, like. “You’d be the first guest there.”

I’m coming home.

Half of a moon. Dazai recalled it was going to be for the day, at least, from the night before. Where he laid in your bed, keeping your body close to his. A sweaty mess he was, though his eyes wandered throughout your fit—soft, fuzzy pajamas. The presence of yours tangled with him was enlightening; a breath of fresh air, much like spring weather. And your tired laughs kept him at ease; a lucky charm that he’d have no nightmares for the night, a type of cold medicine to knock him out.

He wanted to rewind to that memory—to that past, even for a bit. To get the image of your body slashed in front of his eyes out of his mind. The gasps of the others were audible, though even no cry escaped your lips. Dazai’s body stuck in place, quickly faltering into regret—a fateful act of carelessness, he could’ve sworn that he was that even for a few seconds. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, silly,’ he noted your words to him from before—just a few days ago, right at the kitchen table, or something. He couldn’t remember, really.

The splatter of blood almost stained his face, where his jaw crumbled to a drop. Within a flash, the slim man disappears, almost right through the wall. Fuck. A terrifying ability, if only Dazai touched him—though that wasn’t the purpose for Dazai now. Once the others moved freely, Dazai ran to your body tattooed on the floor.

Your eyes typically held a glow of gladness. A reminder of willow trees and blue birds on a chirpy morning. The type that Dazai meditated on when he glanced in your eyes, even for the shortest moments—even during the hardest times, even for—even for the relationship he held with you. He always remained distant; a stubborn bastard he was, completely lost from the hope of himself, yet he believed when you spoke the sweet nothings to him—a man who held discernment; goodness. True to his heart.

I’m coming home.

“Y/N, please! Hang in there!” Kunikida cries out before falling back to the corridor. He runs to the others, calling out for Yosano’s presence.

Dazai keeps his hand on your open wound, bottom lip trembling before he lets out an insufferable cry. Blood never really was his type of tattoo, yet it remained red around his wrists. The sobs of Atsushi and Kyouka faded from his mind. What mattered to him were your eyes—a withering garden, completely devoid of its touch to the world. Consistently, Dazai pleaded for you to hold on, even for one more minute until the doctor would reach your presence.

Body stone-cold; freezing, almost. Dazai tucks you in close to his chest, staining the vest underneath his trench coat. Your breaths fan out rapidly, almost choking on the taste of iron. “Baby…” he cries out, keeping pressure on the wound. He rocks back and forth, shaking his head; lips feathering kisses along your cheeks—sharing the taste of iron to his tongue. “Please, please… hang on. I got you. I love you so much, don’t you let go. Yosano is coming, okay?”

“Da—” you cough out, eyes rolling back. Your head feels warm; the room is heavy, soon illuminating a light. “I’m sorry.”

“My love, please,” Dazai pleads, clutching onto your body harder. “Save your strength.”

“Stay… with me…”

“I’m not leaving, darling,” he says, continuing to rock back and forth. “I got you.”

Your body grew tired, and Dazai stopped for a moment, glancing down at you. The heels were audible from behind, signaling that the doctor was close—please. A light, glowing from high above the ceiling—too bright to even shine, only for your eyes to see, and Dazai watched your body fall back even in the slightest. He felt his hands tremble unsteadily, clearly at a loss of distraught; his mind was stuck in a desert, nearly giving into a mental burden of a stroke.

“No…” Dazai grits his teeth, eyes stinging with tears; hollow irises turning into a dark umber. “Please. Don’t go, love—please! Don’t die on me, I can’t lose you! Please!”

“M’sorry, Dazai…” you murmur; hooded eyelids softly fading the vision of a blur to luminosity.

Tell the world I’m coming…

“It looks like... I won’t be coming home.”

tags: @whorefordazai @tender-rosiey @internetkilledtheroxstar @sadcannibal @sonder-paradise @pompompurin1028 @amemuraa @tetsustation @milky-toast @missrown @requiem626k @jessbeinme15 @kyuus4ku @so-chile @kiyokoxd @dazaiaiko @spoofybun @chuuyasboots @nullified-kiss @mikasackrmann @n1kolaiz @bungoustraypugs @sebtomm @scul-pted @sky-drgn

#this was so bad TuT #i'm so sorry #bsd dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd dazai x reader #Spotify

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julianottheastrologer · 3 years

Text

19 Secrets about Scorpio

Please ... this type of post is done with my own knowledge, please don't take everything too serious

This series is made to show love to our sun signs, for me no matter how many details you look for about astrology, the person knowing how their sun sign works is already the best thing, it is our greatest light and we need to know it better than anything else.

The secret list is made by this person, the description is mine.

◇☆★☆★☆★☆◆◇☆★☆★☆★☆◆◇☆★☆★☆★☆◆◇☆★☆★☆★☆◆

🔒 They have selective humor - they will not appear to be the same person in all their living environments, with the family if they want to be more stripped down, they will have a more cheerful character, at work if they want a position of power they will be more rigid and direct.

🔒 They are intense until ... - they live a normal life like everyone else, they don't live at 100 an hour. Scorpios demonstrate their intensity in two moments, when they are angry and when they talk about their passions.

🔒 They like solitude - Scorpios don't just watch TV or read a book to have a moment alone, they like to have an activity in which they practice a skill, such as painting, writing and spend hours on it.

🔒 They are extremely smart - or as you might say, with an active instinct, they pick up a lot of the lines that will stay in the air and detect lies, usually telling their friends about it.

🔒 They have mysterious souls - they need to keep their secrets as a form of protection, when they open up to a person they feel they are speaking into a megaphone for everyone to know.

🔒 They admire - they admire people from different areas, usually having an idol, a favorite clothing brand, an artist who is a fan and they do everything to be close to that someone.

🔒 They are collectors - when they look at an object they remember many memories about a moment, and for that reason they like to keep everything very close, which can result in the next item ...

🔒 They can be accumulators - as they feel more attached to objects emotionally, they are not to throw things away and can be accumulators, so it is good to select what they like and keep in their hearts what they no longer need.

🔒 They are activists - they are extremely connected to the world around them and that is why they charge for a better environment, whether at home, work or in the city.

🔒 They praise once in a life - the Scorpio's praise is based on that person's admiration, so they praise very little and don't do it lip service.

🔒 They are great critics - they analyze situations and critiques a lot at all times, but only speak their point of view when asked.

🔒 Trust that is gold worth - they appreciate the honesty of those around them and when it is broken it does not go back.

🔒 They have magnetism - the attraction of scorpions occurs in a very natural way, as people get involved in mysteries, people always want to get closer to discover more.

🔒 They are people of ups and downs - in many moments the scorpions have their energy drained, especially in those with a lot of demand and discipline, and can live many hours of zero energy.

🔒 They like to travel alone - they love to explore and venture out but they don't want anything holding them back with new obligations, so they prefer to travel alone and have their own space.

🔒 They are spiritualized - they have modulated spirituality, the one who seeks self-knowledge and gets involved in "if it does me good I practice".

🔒 They love animals and nature - they like the outdoors and nature, especially in environments with water, they protect animals and have a self-love for felines.

🔒 They are conquerors - they like the challenge of flirting and like to go up, not being still and receptive, when they don't like the person they already cut it off.

🔒 I finish it - Scorpios know how things have to end, but it must be they who do it, if by chance the other ends the courtship, they devise a whole plan to return and then it is they who ended the relationship.

#madam saturn #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #scorpio #8th house #pluto #witch #witchcraft #witchblr #astroblr #zodiac #sign #madam astrology

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spooky-nerd · 3 years

Text

I Wrote an MSR Christmas Fic in September, Sorry

Christmas comes but once a year, or so he’s been told. Which means that he has 364 days (at least) to strategize. And yet, he never quite manages to be able to escape it.

He’s come close a small handful of times. A mere brush with victory followed by crushing defeat. In 1971 he was hospitalized with appendicitis on December 24. Unfortunately, the hospital gave out little teddy bears with santa hats that year to all of the children. In 1994, he tried lying low in his apartment, but Mrs. Sanders from across the hall had dropped off a fruitcake wrapped in red and green paper with a ridiculously frilled bow. The fruitcake had tasted horrible, but then that had been comforting, because he has never had a fruitcake that didn’t taste horrible and would find the very idea to be unsettling to say the least.

Twice he has nearly managed to avoid Christmas altogether. An almost impossible feat, and a coveted one amongst those who bemoan the holiday like he does.

He is not a grinch, as some would suspect, and his heart is not withered and cold. He does not have a propensity for stealing presents from under trees, and he has never once uttered the words “bah, humbug!”. He just does not care for Christmas.

This had come as a shock to Scully during their first year of partnership. She had whisked into the office on December 23rd in a cloud of merriment, smelling like peppermint and humming festively. “So, what are your Christmas plans?” she had asked innocently.

“Well, I’ll probably microwave some popcorn and watch Plan 9 From Outer Space,” he had said in complete seriousness. In spite of his delivery, she had laughed. Probably at the absurdity of it, which likely was obvious to outside observers, he had realized then. And yet, his world-weary soul had lacked the energy to care.

“You’re serious?” She had dropped the smile, and in its place was that frown of disappointment that he was rapidly becoming acquainted with. For some reason, he had felt a bit sheepish.

“Yeah, I’ve just never been one for the holidays.”

“But Mulder, it’s Christmas,” she had said, her incredulity ratcheting up impossibly higher.

“Oh I know, Scully. Trust me, I know. 104.9 started playing Christmas music in October. My building super put up tinsel in all the hallways on November 1st. I’ve been visually assaulted by this holiday on every street corner since the day after Black Friday. I know it’s Christmas. I just don’t really care.” He had shrugged, in case the rant came off a little too harsh. Not that Scully was easily intimidated. He was quickly beginning to learn that too.

She had shrugged, already poised to drop the subject. “Alright. Enjoy your popcorn, then.”

He had smiled. “Thanks, Scully.”

She had paused, turned back to him. He had gotten a whiff of peppermint again, and wondered if it was a new holiday perfume, or just the everyday magic of her. “You know, November 1st is a little early for tinsel.”

Looking back, it is possible that he had begun to fall in love with her then.

* * *

In the four years that Scully has been his partner, he has discovered that she has exactly one flaw: she loves Christmas. The music, the food, the gifts, the decorations, she eats them all up with a little festively-adorned spoon. At his request, she had refrained from stringing lights up in the office, but in exchange, he is forced to accept one Christmas gift from her each year.

Of course, he isn’t a monster, so every year, he buys her a present, too. Usually something quite ridiculous and useless. Their second Christmas together, he had bought her a mug depicting the entire cast of General Hospital. “It made me think of you,” he had said, to which she had raised an eyebrow and smiled, sliding her own present across the desk to him with false demureness. He had given her a suspicious look and ripped into the gift with exaggerated zeal, just to make her laugh. With delight he had pulled out a tie with little green aliens and flying saucers.

“Scully,” he had said, completely smitten. She had smiled and shrugged. He had decided that is was possible he didn’t hate gift exchanges as much as he had previously thought.

* * *

On December 23rd, 1997, he walks into the office and she is not there. It is not a surprise to him, but it is a blow nonetheless. She should be here, bringing him hot chocolate in addition to his morning coffee, placing a gift on his desk wrapped in ribbon so clinquant and overwhelmingly jubilant that it makes his eyes hurt. She should be here, making him dislike the holiday less and less with each passing moment. And if she can’t be here, he should be there with her. He calls Skinner and tells him he is taking a personal day. He does not explain further but he does not need to.

“Okay. Tell her I said Merry Christmas,” Skinner says.

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

* * *

Within an hour, he is at her doorstep with a hazardously overstuffed plastic grocery bag, a six-foot spruce that is growing heavier by the minute, and a gift wrapped in paper that had been sparkly at one time but has now transferred all of its glitter onto his coat.

It takes her a worryingly long time to answer the door. But she does eventually, looking completely drained, a sweater wrapped around her thin frame. She is cold all the time now and she never complains but it has not escaped his notice. She looks exhausted, but it stops his breath how beautiful she is all the same.

She is surprised to see him. Even more shocked by the one-man window display he has become.

“Mulder? What are you doing?” Confusion, but also a smile in her voice that he can see glittering in her eyes, too.

“I thought I’d bring the party to you, Scully.” He is still a little out of breath, but he smiles, and finally she laughs, melodic and joyful. She lets him in.

* * *

With the muted tones of Bing Crosby playing smooth and unobtrusive underneath, he makes them hot chocolate, dons a Santa hat, and gets to work decorating her tree. She sits on the end of her couch nearest him and opens up the little boxes of colorful Christmas ornaments, handing them to him one-by-one with delicate care. He gets tangled more than once in the Christmas lights, each time extricating himself in a flurry of limbs and curses. It’s worth it to hear her laugh. He wants to close his eyes and listen to the sound and pretend everything is okay.

When he is finished, she holds out her hands wordlessly and he helps her stand up. He wraps an arm around her and they lean against one another, admiring the finished tree. He wonders if she knows it means so much more to him than just a nice gesture. Her grip tightens around him in a brief hug.

“Mulder,” she says softly. “I don’t even know what to say. You really didn’t have to do all this.”

They are quiet for a moment. Bing Crosby sings that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. He finds that he agrees.

“I wanted to, Scully. I wanted to be here. The office doesn’t feel right without you,” he says. “Besides, you would’ve done the same.”

She huffs a small laugh. “You hate Christmas.”

“No I don’t.” She looks up at him and he meets her gaze. “I don’t.”

* * *

Exactly one year later, she is safe and whole and mulling over a file, tapping an absent beat on their desk with her pencil. He bounds into the office, over-laden with a diverse assortment of ridiculous Christmas paraphernalia. He dumps it all on the floor in an unceremonious heap, shakes the snow out of his hair, and tosses her a goofy smile.

“Hey, Scully,” he says, out of breath. “Wanna help me deck the halls?”

When they are finished, the office has never looked more unprofessional. They couldn’t be prouder of themselves. Before she leaves for the night, she gives him his gift and a kiss on the cheek. Also very unprofessional, as is the alarming rate at which his heart is beating. It’s just about the only thing he can think about over the holidays, and that in itself brings clarity.

* * *

Her hand is icy where it settles atop his on the steering wheel. He risks only a brief glance in her direction. ‘It’s really coming down out there,’ he had said obligatorily about thirty minutes earlier, squinting into the critical sliver of light their headlights were slashing through the dark flurries of snow.

“Let’s stop for the night,” she says. He nods and gets off at the next exit without question.

They find a motel down a nearly deserted back road that makes them both touch the concealed weapons at their hips just for comfort. The attendant wordlessly accepts their cash and slides them a key.

“You know what’s messed up?” he says as he flops onto the bed after a cursory inspection for suspicious stains.

“What?” she says, rooting through her bag for their toothbrushes.

“I don’t even know where we are.”

She sighs, a weary sound that he has gotten used to hearing in the months they’ve been on the road. Almost four months now.

“We are somewhere in the southern part of Kentucky. That’s all I know.”

“Scully,” he begins, the word absolutely riddled with guilt.

“Mulder, stop. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” They’ve had this small scrap of conversation several times. He keeps waiting for her response to change but it never does.

Silence except for her continued rummaging. Then, a triumphant “Aha!”

He peeks out from under the arm slung across his face. “What-“ He stops at the sight of her wearing a santa hat and holding a lumpy package wrapped in newspaper and held together with duct tape. She smiles and inclines her head triumphantly. The hat tilts adorably and the little pompom falls in front of her face. He laughs in spite of everything. In the spirit of the season, she joins him.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

He shakes his head, in awe once again. “I love you.”

* * *

In an unremarkable house, in an unremarkable room, in an unremarkable chair sits a man. He is unremarkable in some ways and remarkable in others. He is holding in his hand a two-inch long replica of a Louisville Slugger that has been made into a keychain. A gas station trinket, unremarkable in some ways and remarkable in others. He turns it over in his hands and cannot help the smile that spreads across his face. It takes him back to a motel on a snowy night in southeastern Kentucky, and he has a mind to stay there awhile.

She walks in at that moment, wearing the most hideous sweater he has ever seen. After a moment of stunned silence he lets out a loud gut laugh. She smiles, spreading her hands in a silent ‘ta-da’. The sweater is red and green, and knit into it are alternating rows of Christmas trees, presents, wreaths, some colorful blobs that inexplicably might be potted ferns, and a pair of kissing reindeer, both of which have antlers.

“You look horrible,” he says, still chuckling. “I love it.”

“I found it at a Goodwill.”

“An ironic name for a store that would sell such an act of violence.”

She laughs. “I’m thinking of adding it to my regular rotation. I could get you one, too, and then we could match.”

“Well, people in town already think we’re crazy. Maybe it’s time to start leaning into it.”

She heads to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate, and he puts his hand in his pocket for the thousandth time that day, touching the small box like he’s afraid it will disappear. While she putters around the kitchen, he stares at the winking lights of their Christmas tree and gathers his thoughts.

Within minutes she is back with two steaming mugs filled much too full, sloshing dangerously. She sips a little out of both of them, burns her tongue, and hands him his. The mugs are hot. She pulls her sleeves up until only the tips of her fingers are peeking out and holds the mug that way. He watches the entire scene, completely enamored.

She throws herself onto the couch with a sigh and it is a Christmas miracle that she does not spill any of the hot chocolate on that horrendously festive sweater. He settles down next to her and sips gingerly from his mug, contemplating the mystery of those reindeer.

“Is it a misunderstanding of deer anatomy or a political statement, do you think?” she says, clearly reading his mind. He makes a mental note to open up an unofficial investigation into how she keeps being able to do that.

“All I know is it’s my favorite thing you’ve ever worn.”

“Aww. Thanks.”

“I am curious about those potted ferns, though.”

“Is that what they are?”

They wait there together, sipping and talking about everything and nothing until the hour whittles down to nil and the clock strikes midnight, Christmas Day. He puts an arm around her shoulders and marvels at the way her head fits so perfectly in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Merry Christmas, Scully.” He whispers it like a treasured secret.

She turns to kiss him. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers back. Then she is up, grabbing his presents. She is eager for him to see one of them, and has been carrying the secret of what it is around with her for weeks. She hands it to him first, and he makes a show of opening it agonizingly slowly. She rolls her eyes and shoves him gently until he picks up the pace.

“Oh wow, Scully,” he says softly when he pulls the tissue paper aside to reveal a vintage restored Polaroid camera. “Thank you. This…wow.” He runs a hand over the glossy surface appreciatively, and then points it at her. “Say cheese.”

Within moments, the photo of her completely unprepared and squinting painfully at the sudden flash develops.

“Ugh,” she giggles.

“I’m keeping it.” He slips it into his pocket before she can snatch it away. His knuckles bump the small box, and he swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

He retrieves the gift from under the tree and watches her open it. “Oh, Mulder,” she says, pulling the typewriter out of its box. He’d had to place an anonymous ad in the paper for that one. They had decided at the beginning of their life on the run that they would use only the most basic technology, which meant burner phones and nondigital alternatives. “It’s beautiful.”

It is. It’s an Underwood, glossy white, impeccably maintained. He’d paid a small fortune to a very old man for this one. They had met in a public park. He had paid in cash. The man had brought it in an old shoebox inside a brown paper grocery sack. The whole transaction had felt vaguely illegal. The man had looked at least 100.

“Thank you.” She gives him a hug. She smells like hot chocolate and peppermint. It reminds him of a Christmas many years ago. A conversation about why he didn’t like Christmas. Oh how things have changed.

“Actually, there’s one more thing,” he says when she pulls away. She raises an eyebrow. She hates to be outdone, especially on Christmas. Incredulity turns into disbelief when he pulls out the small box.

“Mulder,” she whispers. Her eyes fill with unshed tears when he gets on his knee in front of her, and if he’s going to make it through this, he cannot look at her.

“Scully, I-“ his voice catches immediately. He clears his throat. “I know that the past few years have been…well there’s no words for it. You are the only thing that has gotten me through. You’ve been there Scully, since the beginning you’ve been there and I- I can’t imagine my life without you. I want so much more for you. You deserve so much more, and I…I wish that I could give you more. But this is all I have to offer, Scully. This is everything I have. I want to grow old with you and, and love you and support you and laugh with you until the end of time. I promise to be faithful. I promise to have your back and to be there for you always.” He takes a shaky breath. “Dana Katherine Scully, will you marry me?”

He looks into her eyes, and he sees everything there. The love and devotion that had started small and fragile and had grown into something ineffably strong. He cannot imagine a life without this woman. Bing Crosby’s voice floats quietly over from the record player, singing about having a merry little Christmas. He wants a life with her, a thousand more little Christmases just like this one, filled to the brim with ridiculous, garish holiday cheer. She takes a deep breath, the words that will determine their future poised on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes. Of course I will.”

- - - - - - - -

Note: Btw, I wasn’t lying about that sweater

#txf fic #msr #the x files fanfic #the x files #Fox Mulder #Dana Scully #txf fanfic #msr fanfic #christmas fic #x files fanfic #mine

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loki-hargreeves · 3 years

Text

Loki x Reader - Thanos controls You

Warnings: angst, mentions of torture, mind-control, fighting, choking, blood and gore, more angst (it's a lot ok)

Word Count: 5,8K

Summary: After failing to deliver the Tesseract, Loki has been living in fear that Thanos will one day find him again and seek revenge. You have been missing ever since Loki was imprisoned after what he did in New York. Little did Loki know that you were with Thanos all along. During the events of Infinity War, Thanos makes you battle Loki in order to obtain the Tesseract

Author’s Note: I know Thanos doesn’t have the mind stone at the beginning of Infinity War but it’s fiction and I’m gonna do what Marvel does best, ignore canon. Let’s blame the Other’s powers, okay? Please enjoy this angsty little thing! :)

YOUR POV

“There’s room for more!” Loki yelled over the cries of scared children and their crying families. There was no way he would send a half-empty escape pod on its way to Midgard. That’s when he saw a child all by herself a little further away. She was clinging onto the wall for dear life and the ship trembled due to the impact of getting shot at. Her parents were nowhere to be seen. Dead. Loki felt sick to his stomach when he knew they were most likely dead. Thanos’ children were slaying kids and their parents heartlessly and they had the audacity to say they were being rescued. That their deaths were part of something bigger than life itself.

They viewed Thanos as a god who was being merciful even when he ripped a beating heart out of someone's chest.

Loki’s heart clenched in his chest painfully. Before it would be too late, he made his way to the tiny child and picked her up carefully. She seemed to recognize the prince but she wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, she hugged Loki so she wouldn’t fall out of his grasp.

“Where’s mommy?” The girl sounded absolutely petrified.

Loki didn’t know what to say as he made his way to the pod. Once he reached it, he saw a woman by the entrance.

“You’ll be safe here,” Loki promised the child as he handed her over to the lady. That’s all he had time for as he returned to the corridor. A particularly loud blast made him stumble over his feet and he had to catch his balance by taking support from the metal wall. The lights flickered, which meant the electronics of the ship were injured. There was a strange smokey smell in the air, which lingered with the irony stench of blood.

Loki couldn’t believe this was happening. Had Thanos finally come for him? Or did Thanos somehow know of the tesseract? Either way, if Thanos succeeded, he would kill two birds with one stone. The thought of this being all his fault made Loki nauseous. Guilt was nibbling at his skin and he knew it would eat him alive in the end. He never wished for this to happen!

As he ran down the corridors frantically searching for Asgardians that needed help, he heard different kinds of cries. People were letting out guttural screams. Others were pleading for their lives. Listening to the massacre that was taking place was worse than any nightmare Loki ever recalled having. They were all drained after Ragnarok and now Thanos had found them. It was haunting how ruthless fate could be.

Footsteps began to approach Loki and they were awfully close. Too close for his liking. He was quick to grab his daggers and turn to face whoever dared try to sneak up on him. When he saw a familiar figure, he nearly dropped the blades from his hands. Seeing you there was like shock itself punched him in the face.

You were there, real and clear as day.

How long had it been since the last time he saw you?

Ever since Loki had found out about his true nature, his life had gone downhill. After he ended up with Thanos and went through pure hell with him, he had changed. During his time away from Asgard, he had only missed one person truly - you. You, who had been by his side through everything. You, who hadn’t loved him any less when you saw his deep blue skin and those crimson red eyes that in Loki’s mind resembled blood. You, who had seen him as the rightful king of Asgard when everyone else betrayed him. The light of his life, the angel that had cared for him even when he felt like a monster.

You, who hadn’t been on Asgard when Thor brought him back to face Odin in trial. Loki had spent a lot of time in his cell, alone. He waited for you to appear but you never did and no one ever told him why. They rather left him to drown in his own vicious thoughts. It wasn’t until Loki pretended to be Odin that he began to learn what had happened on Asgard during his exile.

The people at the palace loved to gossip. Some claimed you had stolen a ship and left Asgard behind for good, that living as Loki’s widow had been too hard for you. In Loki’s darkest hours, he wondered if you truly felt ashamed for being associated with him. So ashamed in fact, that you had left it all behind and started anew. Sometimes, he believed that, but it never stopped him from trying to find you. He had searched night and day but it seemed like you had vanished into thin air. It had killed him more every day living in the unknown. His only wish had been that you were okay.

Now there you were, looking like you had never left. In a moment of pure shock, Loki couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you appeared on the ship - seemingly out of nowhere. He was happy to see you, despite how appalling everything else was at that moment.

“Y/N,” Loki spoke your name softly and dared to blink. When you were still there as he opened his eyes, he felt goosebumps all over his skin.

You looked at him so innocently, but then he noticed that something was off. The look in your eyes was cold. You weren’t in your typical Asgardian gear. Instead, you were dressed in dark armour that Loki could’ve sworn he had seen before, but he didn’t know where. Nevertheless, it made him feel uneasy.

“It’s been a while, Loki,” You attempted a smile as you walked closer to him, your husband. It still counted since he had never truly died, right?

Loki didn’t stop you as you walked right up to him. His eyes never left yours. Part of him wanted to kiss you, to hold you and feel you were real, but the shrieks in the background reminded him of how dangerous everything was. The daggers disappeared from his hands and Loki held you by your shoulders. He needed to see that his hands wouldn't go right through you, that he hadn't lost it.

“You need to get off this ship, Y/N!” He told you seriously. There was profound fear in his voice.

Instead of being worried at all, you just smiled back at him.

That was so unlike you.

“Y/N, do you hear me?”

“Oh, I do,” You confirmed nonchalantly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

A bloodcurdling cry startled Loki. They were coming closer and closer. The two of you wouldn’t be safe in that passageway for long. By now, his heart was racing with his thoughts. He felt panic settling into his bones.

Before Loki could say another word, you cupped his face rather gently. The fact that you didn’t seem disturbed by what was happening was eerie to Loki. He knew that you had a heart much bigger than anyone else he knew of. The version of you he remembered wouldn’t have been so calm. Something was terribly wrong.

“I need something,” You admitted and batted your eyelashes. Before, Loki would’ve found that quite adorable, but at that moment it was so wrong. He had been so ecstatic to see you and know you were alive, but now he almost wanted to run the other way.

“What?” Loki barely found his voice at that point. He felt sick and heartbroken. This had to be a nightmare, the worst kind.

“The Tesseract, Loki. I really need it,” You blurted it out.

Shivers ran down his spine. How did you know about it? Why did you even care? He was unsure if he could even trust you with the knowledge that he had it in his possession. Usually, he would’ve trusted you with his life without any hesitation, but you had been gone for years and returned like this, with bizarre motives.

You returned at the same time as Thanos and you were looking for the tesseract. Loki wasn’t a fool. He finally put two and two together and the realization was too arduous to believe. The idea of you and Thanos even meeting was something Loki could only see happening in his worst nightmares, but he was afraid it had already occurred. If so, he needed to hear it from you,

“Is Thanos making you do this?”

The tone of his voice seemed to offend you as you sent him a nasty glare. Your softness turned harsh and you pushed Loki against the metal wall with a loud thud. Before he could get out of the way, you grabbed your own dagger and pressed it against his neck so it was ever so slightly pressing against his exposed skin.

“He is not making me do anything. I am glad to serve the all-mighty Thanos. I won’t fail him, unlike you,” You snarled at Loki spitefully.

Never in a million years had Loki imagined this moment to happen. One where you would be fighting against each other. It was supposed to the two of you against the nine realms. Being held like that by the one person he loved more than anything was tearing his heart to shreds, but he tried not to show it.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t truly you. He knew exactly what Thanos had done to you so you would act like this, and it only made it hurt so much more. It felt like someone was pouring salt into an open wound, and his entire body, heart and soul were wounded.

“Now give me the tesseract and we will be on our merry way,” You tried to obtain it again. This time you seemed more serious. Was it the tone of your voice or your weapon pressed against his pulse? Loki didn’t know.

“I don’t have it,” Loki lied as smoothly as he could because even thinking straight at that moment felt impossible. The world was caving in around him at supersonic speed.

You pressed the sharp edge of the blade closer to him, feeling how just a little bit more pressure would've broken his skin “You’re a great liar, my dear, but I know that’s not the truth.”

Loki didn’t want to fight you, but he didn’t see another way out. And it was good for him that you had learned most of the tricks from him. Your every move would be more easily predictable for Loki. He had to find a way to distract you.

“Why do you need it?” That was a foolish question. He knew damn well what Thanos would do if he got his dirty hands on the infinity stones.

“Why do you care?” You didn’t answer his silly question.

Suddenly, Loki grabbed your wrist tightly and yanked your arm to the side. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but Loki knew you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

At least your weapon fell out of your hand, but you knew how to defend yourself without it. So did Loki.

Loki tried to turn things around so he would have you pinned down against the wall, but you didn’t let him get that far. As he turned you around so your back was pressed firmly against his chest, you kicked your legs against the wall hard, pushing both of you back. Loki took the biggest impact as he fell on the floor, with you on top of him. Quickly, you rolled out of his grasp, turning around in one swift movement so that you were now sat on top of him, with your legs tightly against both his sides.

A powerful orb of magic grew above your fingertips and you brought it closer to Loki’s face - so close that he could feel the heat of your burning powers. The magic created an electric sensation on your skin. It felt like you pushed your fingers deep into warm sand. Toying with it was exhilarating, and seeing the astonished look on Loki’s face made it so much better. The green light of your powers cast light in his eyes, only deepening the look of disbelief that was painted all over him.

“It’s sweet that you’re trying not to hurt me,” You taunted him at that point, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

“This isn’t you, Y/N,” Loki groaned. He was so sure of himself.

You tilted your head and smirked, looking at him like a cat would at a mouse. “I don’t know, Loki. It’s been a while,” You explained casually and leaned closer and closer to his face, stopping when your noses brushed against one another. By now, Loki was frozen on the spot. He was trying to come up with a plan and he felt hopeless.

“I’ve changed,” You whispered to him and felt tempted to kiss him, to taste him. Would you taste his fear? His heartbreak? You were sure it would taste sweet.

“The torture must’ve been painful,” Loki pushed his feelings aside. Yes, he felt like his heart had been ripped to shreds, but he had to do something. He had to surprise you, even if it would hurt. Words could hurt more than actions, and if Loki wanted to survive and to help you, he needed to reach the real you even if the only way to do so was cruel.

How did he know? You narrowed your eyes and surprisingly, found yourself waiting for him to continue.

"I was trained well."

"Trained?" Loki spat out harshly, "I know you're afraid. He has promised you something worse than the pain he has inflicted on you already. It won't happen. If you let Thanos continue his reign, he will not care about your loyalty!"

"Shut up!" That was too much for you. With tears brimming your eyes from anger, you put your hand over his mouth to silence him. He didn't budge and you didn't know why.

You pushed the memories aside. The painful memories of the time Thanos first found you. It was wrong to think of it as torture. No, he had shown you what you're truly capable of. It was training. Training to become a stronger person after the hell you endured on Asgard.

But now that you found yourself thinking about it, it seemed like the memories were all blurred as if you were looking into the past through a broken lens. Someone had spilt oil all over it and the pictures were warped.

"I know you have it," You needed the tesseract. "Give it to me and then this will all be over," you removed your hand from his mouth because it looked like he wanted to speak.

Loki knew that if he’d push you, your magic could burn him, but at the moment he couldn’t come up with another plan. He couldn’t just stay on the ground as people were being killed on the other side of the wall!

"Okay," Loki blurted out. Okay?

For a moment, he had you surprised which was the perfect distraction.

Loki grabbed your wrists tightly and pushed you to the side, but not quickly enough. You released your magic and it graced the side of his face, making him growl out either in pain or frustration - or both. The two of you rolled over and this time Loki was on top, holding your arms pinned above your head. You were trapped because of one mistake. You couldn't believe Loki had used the element of surprise to turn the situation upside down.

Furiously, you tried to kick your legs free, but he had you pinned down beneath him and Loki was strong. There was no point in squirming, you had to come up with another idea.

The two of you faced each other and Loki revealed his face and the damage you had done. Your magic had burned his skin and left a bloody cut on his eyebrow. It had just barely missed his eye. If he lived, it would surely leave a scar.

You flinched when a drop of his blood hit your cheek and it rolled down the side of your face.

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

Loki could never bring himself to kill you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself with your blood on his hands. No. He had other ideas. Loki remembered what it was like to be under Thanos' control. He remembered how much it hurt to even think about the torture. He had to remind you, he had to make you see that this wasn't the real you.

"This version of you, or I certainly hope so," Loki replied mysteriously. Before you could ask him to elaborate, Loki released your wrist and slammed the palm of his hand against your forehead. In a split second, you were in a different place - in your head. You could've sworn you heard him mutter "I'm sorry," before everything turned black.

It was hot, burning hot. Metal chains were attached to you and they were glowing red. Torching. You could only scream in pain as the metal sunk into your skin, your bones, your nerves. It felt like he had chained your mind and with the tiniest movement of his finger, he could make you do his dirty work.

He, Thanos, was sitting on his throne. He was the puppet master and you the puppet. He didn't look at you fondly. No. He was smiling as he watched you cry your lungs out, letting out animalistic growls as the pain got worse. It was so overwhelming that every once in a while, you would scream until you passed out. But every time, one of his children would be there to wake you up.

It was time for another round. And another. And yet another. Would it ever end?

Each time you tried to resist the chains, the strings that were sewn onto you and connected to his fingertips, it hurt more. Eventually, you learned that allowing the strings to tighten around you made it hurt less. It almost felt good, like a long embrace after a long day.

"I don't want to hurt you, my child."

Lies. You knew that all he said were nasty lies, but sometimes it was easier to believe lies than the truth.

"Make it stop!" You would beg him. How long had you been there?

You could remember Thanos touching your face gently, which was so comforting after everything you had endured. At the same time, it made you sick. You couldn't believe that the one who had caused you distress could have such a gentle touch.

"You're ready," Thanos had realized. The Other had appeared right before you and his fingertips were pressed against one another, making him look like he was deep in thought. You had no idea what they were doing, but the next thing you knew was that you no longer felt pain.

The chains, the strings, they were all invisible. It looked like you were free, but the weight of the metal was still pressed against your skin. Had you imagined it?

No,

Deep down you knew that the strings were still attached to you, but they had only made it seem like you had a choice.

"Excellent," The Other's voice surprised you. You merely blinked and you had returned to the vessel. Loki was above you and the Other was standing right there, "You found him."

The Other used his powers to push Loki off you. Shock had made your entire body numb and you couldn't scramble up to your feet. It felt like your limbs had been turned to stone and you were anchored to the floor.

Loki got up slowly with his arms raised in surrender. He was well aware of the powers the Other had and Loki wasn't going to fight him now. If he followed you for long enough, then maybe just maybe he could come up with a plan. Loki looked at you as you finally got up. As you stood next to the Other, you couldn't believe your legs carried you. Something was so wrong. You felt sick and you couldn't shake it off. It felt like something had snapped within you, but you didn't know what.

"He is waiting for you," The Other explained as he turned to walk away, most likely to wherever Thanos was waiting.

Loki had no choice but to follow, and you walked behind, making sure he didn't try to escape.

Why did Loki make you remember that? What did he think he would obtain with making you relive something so awful? It hadn't worked, right?

There he was. Thanos was standing by a hole that had been ripped into the side of the ship. Magic was keeping it sealed so the vacuum of space wouldn't suck everyone into it. But still, the emptiness of space wasn't frightening at all compared to the titan who was standing right there.

Loki swallowed thickly as he saw him again. It had been years but he remembered everything like it had happened yesterday. Seeing Thanos standing in the middle of the piles of bodies, in the room that smelled like smoke and blood, was sickening. Thanos hadn't just killed a part of Loki. He had just slaughtered these innocent Asgardians with the help of his so-called children. He had taken you.

He will make you long for something as sweet as pain

Loki closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. They had stayed true to their threats.

"I know what it’s like to lose," Thanos turned around now that he knew Loki was there. At long last. Thanos had not forgotten what Loki had failed to do, and Thanos was a man of his words.

"To feel so desperately that you’re right yet to fail, nonetheless," Thanos continued dramatically and slowly made his way closer to Loki. He saw Thor on the ground, bloodied and weak. The brother of Loki. As tempting as the idea was to torture Thor right in front of the god of mischief, Thanos had different plans. If there was only one way Loki would ever give him the tesseract, it was going to be in order to save you. You were Loki's true weakness.

"It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you, to what end?" Thanos looked Loki right in the eye. He could see that Loki was afraid, yet Loki never looked away from him. He was either too proud or fearless. Thanos had liked that about Loki initially. But he had failed Thanos greatly. It had cost him infinity stones.

"Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should I say I am," Thanos finished his dramatics because it was time for action, to turn the wheels and see the bigger picture. This was the end of an era and a new beginning for a different universe. In Thanos' mind, only he could bring balance and order. He gestured for you to walk up to his side.

Too afraid of the idea of what would happen if you disobeyed, you walked right up to Thanos, feeling like a fly that was willingly flying into cobwebs. When you were close enough, you kneeled and dipped your head so he wouldn't see the worry in your eyes. It wasn't there before.

"I didn't obtain the tesseract from him, but I am sure that he has it, father," You muttered quietly. Why did you say that? There was a pounding headache growing within your skull. You didn't know what was right or wrong anymore and you couldn't fight it either.

Father

Loki clenched his jaw as he followed the situation closely. Hearing that made his blood boil. He wanted to rip Thanos apart after this. Never in a million years had he imagined this, to see you pledge your alliance to Thanos, kneeling before him and respecting him. Thanos didn't deserve that. Hell, Thanos didn't even deserve to look at you. It was wrong.

At that moment, Loki worried that his trick hadn't worked. That the memories hadn't awakened anything within you. That it was all too late now. This was the end, the one thing in life that was inevitable.

"I know, my child," Thanos let out a sigh. Then he grabbed you by your jaw like he had done before, forcing you to face him. "I know he has it," He repeated and suddenly his touch turned violent. He closed his hand around your neck tightly and you gasped for air helplessly. Your hands - tiny compared to his - grabbed his fingers and you tried to pry them apart, but he was tougher than you. Panic shot through your entire body when you realized you couldn't breathe. It turned your blood to ice and your poor heart was beating so hard you were afraid it would explode.

What was he doing?

The moment he pulled you to your feet, so high that you had to stand on the tips of your toes, he spoke, "The tesseract or her life," Thanos smiled devilishly, showing no remorse. He didn't care about you. You were a pawn in his game and if you would die at his feet, he would just walk over you and carry on.

"You choose," Thanos put the weight of the world on Loki's shoulders.

Loki wanted to rescue you from that monster, but he wasn't stupid. With all of Thanos' children surrounding him, he knew that he would be dead before he could reach you. Nonetheless, it didn't mean he wouldn't try. Seeing you clawing at Thanos' hand, fighting for something as simple as air and not getting it was heartbreaking. Loki's body was trembling with hatred and hurt. Tears blurred his vision and he struggled to keep his composure.

How had it all come to this?

The thought of Thanos with the tesseract was haunting. Soon he would have all the stones and he would destroy reality as they knew it. But Loki could live with that. He couldn't live knowing you had died when he had a chance to save you. Perhaps he was selfish for choosing you over the entire galaxy, but Loki didn't care. Nothing mattered if he would lose you again.

"Alright, stop!" Loki made up his mind. "I choose her," Finally, Thanos released his grip on you and let you fall on the cold ground. Your hands wrapped around your throat gently and you coughed painfully. It took you a while to finally breathe again, which was a huge relief for both Loki and you.

And now Loki was holding the tesseract. It was so bright that it painted the space blue. It was almost too bright to look at. The power within the stone was so strong, you could sense it like heat from the sun in spring after a long and cold winter. Loki was tempted to use the tesseract to grab you and escape, but he quickly shut those thoughts away. Thanos would follow him for the end of all days.

"You...you really are the worst, brother," Thor was following the situation to the best of his abilities. He spat out blood as he watched Loki holding the cube. It made him sad. Everything they ever knew was destroyed in the name of power, pure and raw power that the tesseract could offer. Was it worth it?

Loki glanced at Thor who was too weak to even get up. He didn't care too much about what he had to say. Then he looked at you. There you were, on the ground struggling to breathe after Thanos had crushed your windpipe. There was bruising on your skin that would only deepen with time. Time that you possibly wouldn't have after this.

He saw the tears running down your face, but you didn't sob and whimper. It seemed like you were as still as stone. You couldn't bring yourself to face Loki.

"I assure you," Loki found his voice and he addressed both you and Thor with his words, "the sun will shine on us again."

What did he mean by that?

You were ashamed to tilt your gaze to see him, to see the tesseract. The damn infinity stone had ruined it all! It was why Thanos had wrecked Loki, why he had destroyed you too. Why so many people were now dead. If you had one wish that could come true, you would wish for the tesseract to be destroyed forever.

Thanos had his back turned to you. Loki was slowly but surely making his way closer to the titan, almost like he was afraid to move but he forced his body to comply. Why? Why would he trade the tesseract for your life? It seemed like whatever spell you had been under had worn off. You were free, but it was more terrifying than being under Thanos' control under these circumstances. He didn't need you, and soon enough the vessel would be blown to bits. All of you, even Loki.

Would you be able to tell him how sorry you were?

"Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian," Thanos wasn't fond of Loki's strange choice of words.

"Well for one thing I'm not Asgardian," Loki replied quickly. It sounded a little bit witty, which was confusing. Where did the boost of confidence come from? Was he up to something?

"And for another," He continued dramatically. This time it was Thanos' turn to be confused.

"We have a Hulk."

Everything that happened after that happened so fast that you could hardly keep up with it. Loki dropped the tesseract and he leapt toward you. Thanos barely had time to turn around when a huge, green beast appeared out of nowhere and it seemed angry. It was eager to fight the titan.

Loki had you up on your feet in no time and the two of you ran away from the immediate danger. He led you to one of the many corridors on the vessel until no one could possibly see you. They were too distracted by the Hulk to even think about Loki and you. It wasn't until he was right in front of you that you could comprehend what was going on. He was kneeling on the floor and you were sat against the wall for support. Your hands were trembling so hard, it seemed like you were freezing up and you couldn't make it stop.

Loki had tricked Thanos.

He was relieved when you didn't fight him, yet he was unsure if it meant you were no longer under Thanos' control, or if you were simply too tired to fight.

He cupped your face gently and searched for answers in your expression. Back in the day, he had been able to read you like an open book.

You put your hands around his wrists and pulled him closer. You were desperate for the comfort he could bring in the midst of the living hell you were stuck in. How did he not hate you?

"I'm s- I'm sorry," You whimpered, finally cracking like a plate that had fallen on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," Loki couldn't possibly let you apologize for what had happened. He was possibly the one person who understood exactly what you had gone through and what it was like to follow orders from that monster. There was not an ounce of judgement to be found in his heart.

What mattered now was that you were together again. You could come up with a plan, but you had to work fast. As much as Loki wanted to hold you and comfort you, to feel that you were real, he knew there wasn't enough time for that.

"We need to get off this thing," Loki's mind was running a marathon as he tried to come up with an escape plan.

"They're gonna blow it up," You explained, feeling how bad your lips were quivering as you spoke. The moment Thanos had what he came for, they would leave and destroy everything they'd leave behind.

Shivers ran down Loki's spine as he heard that. It only confirmed that you had to act quickly. Loki wasn't sure how long the Hulk could fight Thanos. Would they be able to rescue Thor? How much time did they have?

The blood in the wound you had caused on his face was beginning to dry. It looked gnarly and all you wanted was to make it all better. Knowing that you had hurt him made you sick with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I didn't w-want to fight you," You sniffled, breaking Loki's train of thought. For the first time, he felt lost. He didn't really know what to do. Were there any escape pods left?

"I know," Loki assured you. "I know that. I was in your shoes when I was on Midgard," He explained briefly, unaware whether or not you knew of it. Had Thanos talked about him to you?

A sense of impending doom weighed you two down. If this was the end, then at least you were together, right? You and Loki against the nine realms, you would face the end together if there wasn't another way out. Whenever you had pictured your final day, you had imagined something entirely different than this. You would be old together, with hundreds of stories of your shared life. You would be surrounded by people you cared about. It would be calm, the exact opposite of this.

"I love you," You needed to tell him that. Any moment could be your last. The world would cave in and you would be gone forever.

Loki hated how much that sounded like a farewell, but at the same time, it had been so long since he had last heard those three words, let alone from you. Perhaps it was sick and twisted, but it made him smile.

"I love you too," Loki was sure of it. He had never stopped loving you and he didn't think he was even capable of that.

It seemed like you acted on instinct. You found enough strength to push yourself right against Loki. There was no hesitation in your actions as you kissed him. Loki closed his eyes when he felt your trembling lips pressed against his. Your scent, still sweet and familiar despite it all, punched its way into his lungs. He held your face gently but the kiss was passionate, almost despairing.

You wanted to scream out in agony because at last, you were reunited with Loki but not in the way you imagined. You felt like the shell of the person you were before, and now you knew for a fact that Thanos had done the exact same things to Loki. That titan had killed your souls beyond repair. But all you could do was kiss Loki and hold him and hope that he could feel how sorry you were. You didn't want to let go, afraid that if you did, it would all end. Just like that.

Loki broke the kiss, and for a moment you rested your foreheads against one another like you had done so many times before. It was comforting. You both wanted to stay close like that, but you recognised that you couldn't. Letting go of each other and getting up on your weary feet was so incredibly difficult, but it had to be done.

The world around you began to glow brighter. You quickly held onto Loki, startled as the mysterious light surrounded the two of you.

Loki held his breath as he studied the warm glimmering magic that had swallowed you. In between the bright rays of light, he saw all the colours of the rainbow. Shimmering. He saw reds and blues, yellows and greens, shining brighter than the other and it changed smoothly.

The Bifrost

He didn't know how or why, but he knew for a fact that you were in the magical portal. He couldn't see beyond it anymore. He couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet. It was like he was levitating mid-air, with you tightly in his arms.

Heimdall must've conjured the forefathers, letting their powers flow through him one last time. Where to? Loki assumed that anywhere would be better than where they had been mere seconds ago.

And it was a miracle.

A/N: I think it would've made more sense for Heimdall to send Thor or Loki to earth rather than the Hulk. So that's why I ended it like that

I'd absolutely love to hear your feedback! <3

TAGS:

Loki: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack @prettysbliss @weirdfangirl2416

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14 @i-have-arrived-bitch

#Loki #Loki fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki oneshot #Loki x You #Loki x Reader #Loki x Y/N #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #tw angst #Loki angst #Loki/You

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joannasteez · 3 years

Note

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

#mayans mc #ez reyes #angel reyes #jax teller x reader #soa #jax teller #long headcanon #joannasteez #reyes!reader #jax teller x reyes!reader

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tsukikento · 3 years

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Empathetic Chapter 18

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: Usually, my chapters are ~5000 words, but this one is less than 3500. However, that is because I wanted to end the chapter here! I hope you guys enjoy some of this glorious fluff with a short explanation to the reader's backstory. There is more to come and unfortunately it with be rather angsty.

(series masterlist)

You didn’t know what to say and Aizawa didn’t expect you to say anything. He gave you a few moments for the concept to sink in and then he began speaking again.

“Your mother is already on a plane back to the United States. She is in contact with your siblings and even tried calling you a few times.” He paused, debating his next words carefully, “Our goal is to have him think you are still in America. Your family is arranging for there to be a record of you at your old school. Your mother left in hopes to convince your father that she rushed home for you.”

You nodded meekly. It’s not like anything will change if I speak up.

Aizawa sighed. “We are working on our end to get rid of your trace here, but we believe overall that it is safest for you to stay here on campus, surrounded by heroes. What this entails is that you will not be in the limelight at all. You will stay training under me, you will not go out on missions where the public can see you, and you will not participate in the sports festival.”

Aizawa sat down next to you, trying to be as considerate as possible in such a difficult situation.

All you wanted to do right now was call your mom and siblings. You wanted to hear their voices, hear the truth from them, and then have their soothing voices tell you it would all be okay.

“I’m sure you want to talk to your family right now,” Aizawa began as if he was the one who could read your mind, “But you can’t.” He once again rubbed his eyes in irritation at the problem. “If you call them, your number will show outgoing calls from Japan to the United States.”

“I understand,” You solemnly replied.

“However, tomorrow morning, I will be calling your mom with the intention to talk to her about the situation and missing class,” Aizawa explained. “Come to my office half an hour before class and you can talk to her.”

You nodded, trying to comprehend just how important and serious this topic was.

“I don’t expect you to be amazing in class,” Aizawa elaborated, “I know this is a tough situation. However,” He looked into your eyes, “I want you to be there and I want you to keep fighting for your hero education as this gets sorted out.”

You nodded.

Aizawa stood up. “Now, go to bed, get some rest.”

You nodded a final time. “Thank you,” Your meek voice responded, bowing slightly because you knew it was the polite thing to do. You made your way back to the dorm as Aizawa followed behind you.

When you entered, you saw Ashido and Kirishima now in the room with Bakugou, Kaminari, and Sero. However, no one else was there anymore. Briefly, you wondered if your friends, particularly Bakugou, yelled at everyone to get lost.

“Have a good night,” Aizawa said as he left you, closing the door behind him.

Frankly, all you wanted to do was go up to your room, sleep the night away, and talk to your mom in the morning. You hoped everyone could respect that.

Ashido was the first to approach you. They had all been sitting at the usual spot on the dining table. The load wooden chair creaked against the wooden floor, surely adding another scratch to the collection. She rushed over to you and pulled you in quickly for a hug.

It was brief, mainly because you didn’t hug the pink girl back, and she pulled away in concern.

She looked deep into your eyes, unsure what to say.

With the utmost concern and care she could muster, the girl simply asked, “Are you okay? Do you want to be alone?”

“I do,” You mumbled out quickly.

“Of course,” She immediately replied, turning to lead you up to the dorms. She was your escort, and she would make sure no one, not a single soul, bothered you.

As you walked, your eyes wandered to the group. Most of your friends were standing at the edge of the dining room, too scared to enter. Bakugou, on the other hand, stayed in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours.

He looked at you with a serious face and motioned for you to take out your earbud.

You listened and took out one.

Are you okay? You heard his thoughts, much more apparent than anyone else’s, ask.

Not wanting to lie to the blond, you shrugged. You didn’t want to hear anything else, especially because most people’s thoughts were focused on your own situation. You popped the earbud back in as your rounded the corner to the hallway that led to the elevator.

Time passed numbly as Ashido ushered you to your bedroom.

“I’m going to fill up your water and bring you a couple of granola bars in case you get hungry,” She paused to look at you, “Do you need anything else? I could wake you in the morning for class if you’re going.”

“No,” You smiled, “I appreciate you.”

“Of course.” Mina’s tone was much more calm than usual. “Even if I am asleep, feel free to text, call, or bang on my door till I wake up, okay?”

You laughed, “I will.”

Your door shut. You sat down. Minutes later you heard the clink of your water bottle be pressed against your door.

A vibration.

I left it outside your door <3

On your phone were multiple calls and texts. A few from your mom, a few from Aizawa, and a few from Momo and Iida, the class representatives.

You clicked on each, ridding yourself of the red notification bubble. Sighing, you got up to grab your water before going back to bed.

You snuggled yourself into the duvet and attempted to play some videos to distract yourself.

You felt tears prick your eyes multiple times through the night until you finally fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were sweaty. You already had been, but this fresh sweat was most likely the result of a nightmare you already couldn’t remember. Your mouth was dry, and you immediately moved to grab your water. You gulped down half your water in only seconds, thankful that it was filled by Ashido.

It was still dark outside so you grabbed your phone to check the time.

2:19.

If anything you were only asleep for an hour. It had been difficult to fall asleep in the first place, but now it seemed you were being plagued with nightmares.

You pondered if it was better that you didn’t remember what you dreamt. Part of you wished you could.

You sighed into your empty room.

Knowing yourself, if you fell back asleep, you would have the same nightmare.

Maybe I can distract myself for a little bit and try to fall back asleep later.

You looked around your darkroom. But what to do?

Sighing, you stood up from your bed and began grabbing your toiletries. You were much too sweaty for your liking and assumed a nice shower would help calm you down.

Quietly, you slipped downstairs, not using the elevator because you knew it would ‘bing!’ when the doors opened and closed.

Thankfully, the living room and dining room were empty. Your bare feet padded against the hardwood as you made your way to the showers, trying to keep quiet in case anyone heard.

You entered the bathroom, lights switching on immediately due to the motion sensor, and placed your belongings onto the sink counter. You turned to one of the stalls and switched it on before returning to your belongings. As the water heated up, you grabbed your essentials and flung your towel across the tile walls that separated each shower stall. You took off your earbuds and placed them securely into a cloth pouch you attached to your basket.

You peaked around the room, ensuring no one was there, before quickly peeling off your sweaty clothes. You rushed to your stall, closing the curtain, and sighing into the security of a warm water stream.

You took your shower slowly.

You spent your time massaging your head as you applied shampoo. You exfoliated your legs carefully, getting every inch and letting your thoughts fall down the drain with the soapy water. Your mind was clear, and you numbly followed each step meticulously.

It was when you were just about to wash the conditioner out of your hair and get out of the shower that you heard the door click open.

Whoever entered, disturbing your peace, let their heavy toiletries basket fall onto the counter.

I can’t fucking believe it!

It was Bakugou.

Someone else is showering at this time when I wanted to be all alone.

You debated telling him it was you, curious to see if knowing it was you would ease his anger. However, he would also know you could hear his thoughts in these moments.

He turned on the shower that was two away from you. You heard him sigh and pictured the blond rubbing his eyes in frustration.

His thoughts flickered over multiple subjects in the span of seconds. With many people asleep, thoughts were quiet. Bakugou being so close made it easier for you to focus on his thoughts but did not stop your head from hurting slightly.

You weaved around his thoughts, pushing away the passive ones that were simply about turning on the shower, grabbing his shampoo, body wash, and conditioner, and entering the shower. You moved away from his frustration, searching for something more.

Y/N.

More.

Is she okay?

More.

I wonder if she was able to fall asleep.

More.

I wish I ignored stupid pink hair and just went to visit her.

Fuck.

“Bakugou.”

A wave of shock when through him. After a few swears within his head, he finally replied.

“Y/N.” A short pause, “Didn’t I tell you to call me Katsuki?” Another pause, “For practice, I mean.”

You chuckled, running your hair under the water. “No, Bakugou-san, I don’t think you ever did.”

“Tch.”

You heard him open a bottle.

“Well, you can,” He finally said, his voice annoyed, but his thoughts telling you it was a façade.

You didn’t bother replying. Instead, you turned off the water and ringed out what water you could from your hair.

“I’m fine by the way,” You said, interrupting the silence.

You could tell Bakugou wanted to ask some questions, but his thoughts were not directed to you. They were not specifically asking so you didn’t say anything.

You dried off your body and wrapped the large towel around your body before realizing you didn’t bring any spare clothes.

Even worse, you slipped your clothes off and just left them out there. At least, you were smart enough to throw them into your basket of toiletries. Despite that sliver, if silver lining, you still needed to wash your face, brush your teeth, and put some products into your hair. There was no way in hell you were going to put your sweaty clothes back on that you ran in.

Maybe if I work quickly… you reasoned as you secured your towel best you could and proceeded to the sink.

The silence allowed you to work quickly, washing your face and applying products to it while Bakugou simply showered, thinking about how to ask you whatever it is he wanted to ask.

“Can you still hear my thoughts?” He asked out of the blue. Or, at least, it would have been if you didn’t hear his thoughts prior.

“Yes,” You replied as you applied a heavy glob of rose water gel cream to your face and neck.

“Then why aren’t you answering my questions? I know you can hear them?” He inquired.

“Your thoughts are different when you are thinking them and actually talking to me,” You explained, moving on to rapidly put lotion on your exfoliated body. “I don’t answer because they aren’t for me.” You paused, unsure how to phrase this next part, “I don’t want to interfere with your thoughts, I just can’t wear my earbuds when I’m soaking wet.”

His water shut off.

His water shut off and you still had things to do.

You checked your towel, rolling the top over a few times for maximum security.

“You might as well just answer them,” He explained. His green towel disappeared, his hand swiftly grabbing it from the tile walls.

“I’d rather you ask me what you really want to know,” You shot back, “I am not inclined to explain a difficult situation to someone without enough balls to actually ask.”

You could hear Bakugou scoff at the comment.

“No offense,” You added.

A chuckle. “None taken.”

He opened his curtain and stepped out. The blond was wrapped in only a towel, much like yourself, except this one hardly clung to his hips.

You looked away, looked anywhere else, and kept working. Next, your hair.

“It’s fine, you can look,” He teased.

It was a bold comment, but you could tell he was nervous to say it and just as nervous to look at you.

“I could say the same thing,” You looked into his eyes, cautious of his expansive chest. You pointed at your head, “Remember?”

“Tch, how could I forget?” He said, meeting you at the large sinks.

“You should have brought clothes,” You said, continuing the conversation and purposefully moving it away from tonight’s events.

“I could say the same thing,” He repeated, mocking you.

You laughed lightly, “I thought I would be alone.”

“So did I!”

You paused, “Yeah, well I got some pretty bad news tonight so you can’t be angry at me.”

The conversation stopped. Bakugou was tentative to say anything.

“You want me to tell you that badly, huh?” You questioned, looking at him through the mirror.

“You don’t have to,” He quickly replied.

“I know.”

You were done. Teeth brushed. Face fresh with lotion. Hair oil on. You turned to lean against the counter and watched the blond as he brushed his own teeth. You folded your arms, more so for the security of your towel, and for the comfort it would provide you.

“And just so you know,” You began, “I’m not telling you this because I crave attention.”

Bakugou gave you a look, not bothering to reply.

You bit your lip debating where to start. As you thought, your eyes looked over Bakugou’s body, admiring his strict diet and workout regimen. It’s really doing him wonders.

You caught Katsuki’s eyes, and he smirked, knowing exactly what you were doing. He didn’t pressure you to start your story and instead simply looked back into the mirror.

“Anyways,” You began, “My dad broke out of prison and he’s probably going to come looking for me.” You wanted to tell this story quickly, much like how one would rip a band-aid off quickly. “My mom is going back to the United States, and I am staying here because it is safest. However, I can’t do certain things,” You paused, “Like compete in the sports festival, or call anyone.”

Bakugou looked at you, your story clearly processing in his mind. He opened his mouth but closed it after a few moments. You knew what he was going to say though.

I’m sorry you can’t compete in the sports festival.

Albeit a little off-topic, you could tell the comment was coming from a good place. He had been training with you for weeks now in preparation. He also knew that it would be your opportunity to get an internship. However, now there was no possibility of doing that.

After deciding not to say such an oblivious statement, he was unsure what to do.

“It’s fine,” You finally said. “You don’t need to console me of anything.” You sighed, “It’ll be tough, but they will eventually get him, and everything will go back to normal.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Although, it wasn’t silent for you. Bakugou’s mind rushed with thoughts, the most prevalent one being—

“Is he where you got your quirk from?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes,” You answered before adding, “But his abilities are much more fleshed out than mine. He is able to manipulate feelings so strongly, and for so long that it’s basically mind control.”

Not wanting to elaborate, or go into your family history anymore, you began packing up your belongings. Bakugou also seemed ready to go as he began doing the same things.

Motioning to the blond, you finally put your earbuds back in. “You’re free,” You joked, enjoying the silence.

Bakugou snorted through his nose and grabbed his things. He held the door open for you and you each made your way to the elevator. You pointed to the elevator and stairs, silently asking him which one he would rather take.

Bakugou answered by leading the way up the stairs, walking slow enough that you were still able to keep up.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight,” Bakugou said, breaking the silence. His voice echoed through the hall, making your heart flutter. “I was really worried honestly,” He added, worsening your nerves and making your face heat up.

When you didn’t reply, the blond turned to look at you. He immediately saw your red face and began to get red himself. His lips formed a fine line as he tried to remain serious and not smile.

“Don’t look at me like that!” He exclaimed, turning back around, and speeding up.

“What do you expect me to do?” You replied, “You started it.”

Bakugou scoffed, opening the door to your floor. “Yeah, but I didn’t look at you like—” He wasn’t sure what to say and gestured at you— “That!”

“Like what?” You shot back as you each walked to your rooms.

“You know,” Bakugou grumbled, his face becoming even pinker than it already was.

“But what if I don’t?” You questioned.

“I know you know,” He said, looking at you finally. “Of course you know with how I’m reacting.” Bakugou scowled at you and pouted his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled brightly and the blond and nodded your head. “If it helps at all,” You began, “I’m glad I ran into you too.”

Bright red.

He was as red as his eyes.

You smiled even wider, happy to know you could make him react that way.

Before he could close himself away into his room, you decided to add insult to injury.

“It was also really reassuring having you with me when we first got back,” You paused, thinking about what to say. “It may be small, but you really helped me at that moment, especially when you moved me around.” Although you were doing this to get a reaction out of the blond, it was also an embarrassing moment for you. Neither of you was outright saying that you liked the other, but you were getting quite close to it. “I’m also really glad you yelled at everyone to leave so it wasn’t super crowded when I got back.” You thought for a moment, “At least I think you did.” A smile graced your face that would have anyone starstruck.

Bakugou stared at you like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide, his face was red, and he could hardly move. It felt rather funny, each of you standing there in only a towel as you proclaim something so personal. Your arms held onto the top of your towel and Bakugou’s hung loosely by his hips.

For a moment, you imagined the garb falling off. It was a hilarious image and you knew the both of you would be nervous, but the way it hung really teased the idea of it.

It took a few moments, in which he stared directly at you, for him to regain his motor skills. With a ‘Wshh!’ of the door he was gone, tucked away in his small dorm.

You smiled to yourself, happy with how tonight played out. Even if your family was fighting for you, even if you had to fear your father showing up at any minute, it felt good to have a silly little high school romance. It made your life feel normal, it made your heartbeat incessantly, and it made you crave more time with the stubborn blond who stole your heart.

Once back in your room, you bit your bottom lip, trying to tame your smile. You change into some pajamas and make sure your alarm was set for the next day. You didn’t need to work out, but you needed to get to class early so you could talk to your mom. You were happy, really happy. Despite everything, your day was an overall great day and you knew it was all thanks to Bakugou.

#bakugo #bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #my hero academy #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine

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iamdeku · 3 years

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Positions: Prohero!Deku x Reader

I’ve been working on this little drabble for a while, haha. I just wanted to write something really cute and domestic. I hope you guys like this!

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), mentions of kids/pregnancy

Dating a pro-hero could be taxing, to say the least. That was what everyone had told you when you and Izuku had first gotten together. They had warned you of the unpredictable hours, the nightmares, the trauma. They had said he would be physically unavailable at best, emotionally unavailable at worst. You had ignored all of that, though, and every day you were glad you did.

Dating Izuku had never been anything but a joy, a privilege even. He was one of the kindest souls you had ever met. His work only seemed to strengthen that side of him, accenting his willingness to help others, always with a smile on his face. He never made you feel second best to anything or anyone. In fact, you often felt like he did more for you than you did for him, which was what brought you here.

You’re pulling out all the stops tonight, spinning around your kitchen in your pretty pink over the knee socks that always made you glide across the floor, one of Izuku’s baby blue hoodies tossed over your head and falling far enough to be a dress, negating any need for pants. You had chicken katsu going on the stove, and you were making some tea to go with it. In the other room, you had made the bed with freshly washed sheets, still a little warm from the dryer, and an array of bath salts and bubble baths set up for selection.

Your entire body tenses when you hear the jangle of the keys in the lock, rising up onto your tiptoes in your excitement. You slip at least twice as you dash for the door and the man on his way through it, and you should have bit the dust once except for the arms wrapping around you now.

“Baby, you’re slipping all over the place. You know you can’t run in these.” His laughter hits your ear warm and sweet, body close from the way he’s holding you up. “What’s got you in such a hurry? We have all night.”

You pull back to look at him, smile spreading across your face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You hold his face between your hands, used to how fragile they looked compared to his broad strength. You brush your thumb across his cheekbone, where a bruise is painted, red at the center but blossoming out to a deep purple, nearly black. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss to it.

“You work too hard.” You sigh, letting your eyes close and lashes flutter over his stained skin. “Do you want dinner or a bath first?”

“Whatever you want.” The answer is immediate, instinctive.

You had seen this coming. You had prepared for it, in fact.

“Nope. Tonight is about you. That’s what I want, and I’m not letting you argue with me. C’mon, we should get you changed out of your costume.”

He lets you drag him back to the bedroom, hands laced together with his. Slowly, you peel him out of his hero costume, the movements routine and your hands gentle as you unveil new bruises. Most of the blood and gunk on him seems to be from other people, hopefully the villains, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you if he wants to, and he does when he sees the way you pause on a patch of his uniform stuck to his skin from dried blood.

“It was a good night,” he reassures you. “We got them, and everybody is okay.”

“Good.” You nod. “You hungry?”

He smiles down at you. You’ve gently pushed him back onto the bed now that you’ve gotten the top half of his suit off, your navy blue sheets contrasting the green of his hair as he lays back to stretch while you finish undressing him.

“Yeah. It smells good. Chicken katsu?” He leans forward, resting his cheek in his palm.

“Yeah.” You pull his boots off his feet, then shuck of the rest of the costume.

You stand up, knees flushed from the coldness of the hardwood floor, already reaching for his favorite pair of sweats and an old, soft All Might shirt. You let him dress himself as you take his costume to the laundry room, although the damage done to it is likely beyond you. Straight to support team, then.

When you turn to leave the room, his body is stretched across the doorframe, filling it up. You take a moment to let yourself be breathless at the sight of him. It’s not that you forget how beautiful he is, but more that nothing could possibly prepare you for the sight of him, especially not just casually out of nowhere like this.

“Dinner?” He asks.

“Thought you might want that before a bath.”

That was a lie. You knew he would want dinner before a bath when you heard his stomach growl about 5 minutes after he walked in the door. Not that he would admit to that, silly boy.

You move to walk past him into the kitchen, but he catches you around the waist, nose skimming across the skin of your neck as he leans forward. He looks you up and down, bright green eyes soaking you up.

“You look so pretty,” he mumbles.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, leaning into his touch. He brushes his lips against your jaw, just beneath your ear.

“My pretty girl.” He pulls you flush against him, pushing a strand of your hair back. “Gonna drive me crazy.”

“I know what you’re doing,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Oh? What am I doing?”

He plays innocent, but you see the look in his eyes.

“You’re trying to distract me from taking care of you. Not going to happen, pretty boy.”

You slip out of his embrace, throwing a teasing glance his way over your shoulder as you head towards the kitchen, swaying your hips perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just think you look really good in my clothes,” he suggests, following you. “Hard to resist.”

You hum mindlessly, a grin playing on your lips as you reach up into the cabinets to pull out an All Might themed bowl for him and a more traditional choice for yourself. You put rice in both of the bowls, doubling the portions for him, and serve the chicken.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Izuku grows more serious from where he sits at your kitchen table, his chair scuffed and comfortable with age, face lit up and golden in the warmth of your kitchen.

“Well, somebody has to feed my big strong hero, and it better not be any other girl,” you respond lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t want any other girl. Not when I have the best one in the world right here.”

You can’t help but blush as you start in on the food. Deku eats like a starving man, and he has for as long as you’ve known him, except when he’s upset. It gives you almost no time to admire him as you try to keep up, but you still try to get as much of him as you can, always afraid that he’s too good to be true. Worried of the moment he’ll disappear on you.

“I can feel you watching.” He says when he’s finished.

You just roll your eyes, still eating despite your best efforts. He’s called you out on it a million times before. You stopped being embarrassed a long time ago.

You two sit in silence until you finish, but it’s comfortable, the sort of silence that settles down when one of you is tired and the other is pleasantly content, or when maybe you’re both a little bit of each. He speaks up when you take the dishes to place them in the sink.

“You know, you would make a good Mom.” His eyes are glazed over in thought, obviously somewhere else.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, frozen at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah. We would have pretty babies too,” he muses.

“Yeah?” You turn around, leaning your back against the sink.

“Uh huh. Can see it now.” A distant smile pulls the corners of his mouth up. “Our little babies calling you Mommy.”

You cross the kitchen table, settling down into his lap. Your arms loop effortlessly over his broad shoulders, so used to the motion.

“Tell me about it,” you say.

“Wanna buy you a house,” he says, burying his face in the crook of your neck in the way he always does when he’s tired down to his bones. “And a ring. A ring as pretty as you are. I want to have so many babies with you. Have all these kids running around the house, and I want them to all look just as pretty as their Mommy.”

“That sounds perfect.” You run your fingers through his soft curls, body intertwined so closely with his you feel his lashes against your shoulder when he blinks sharply.

“Did you say something about a bath earlier, or did I imagine that?” He asks, voice confused with his exhaustion.

You giggle. “I did actually mention a bath.”

“That sounds nice.”

He stands, picking you up even now, as tired as he is.

“Izuku!” You squeal. “Put me down!”

“Nope, sorry princess. We’re gonna go take a bath.”

He’s all business as he carries you to the bathroom, plopping you down on the edge of the tub. You beat him to the faucet though, determined to keep your hold on the night and keep taking care of him.

“What bath salts do you want?”

He sits down on the floor beside you, back leaning against the tub and cheek pressed to your thigh as he sighs deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Whatever you use. Wanna smell like you. You smell good.”

You follow his instructions, setting the bath up with all of your favorites as he peppers the outside of your thigh with kisses. Your hands never shake, the movements practiced from all the years you’ve spent making baths for yourself and later, yourself and Izuku. When you’re finished, you both slide into the bathtub.

You take your time, washing his hair gently. You’re just as careful with the washcloth, paying attention to every part of his body, making sure not to miss a speck of blood or a smudge of dirt. You’re dedicated to your work and unconcerned with your own cleanliness, though you do briefly wash up so you don’t get the sheets dirty.

You wrap him and yourself up in towels when you get out, the darkened water swirling down your drain.

“Somebody was messy today.”

“Sorry.” Izuku blushes, knowing you’ll have to clean the tub later.

“Don’t be. I’m proud of you. You work so hard to keep people safe.”

He smiles at you, and you can see in his eyes he’s woozy from tiredness. You pull him forward into you, holding him in your arms even as you drag him back into bed with you. He manages to crawl into his sweats before crawling under the covers, and you don’t bother to do anything but pop his sweater back on.

He rolls into you, already half asleep but still wrapping you up in his arms. “I meant all of that earlier, you know?”

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“I really do want to have a family with you. A home.” He presses a tired kiss to your temple.

“I know. I want that too, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, his tiredness contagious.

“I love you.” He wraps you up tighter if that’s at all possible. “To the moon. And to Saturn. And Pluto.”

You giggle a little, eyelids falling closed. “Love you too. To the moon and to Saturn and to Pluto.”

#prohero!deku #deku #agedup!midoriya #deku x reader #izuku x reader #mha #izuku midoriya

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diary-of-an-onliner · 4 years

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lifelines [g.w.]

hi! first fic, pls be nice!

word count: 2300

warnings: none

After Gryffindor turned the tides at the last second, winning the second most important game of the season after a massive setback in the first hour, the celebrations raged harder than ever. Since Hufflepuff had beaten Slytherin to the ground two days ago, the path towards the Cup was clear. Angelina was sitting on the couch, having passed the point of looking pleased long ago, and now seemed almost frazzled by the result. People came up to her periodically, clapping her shoulder or topping off her drink, directing the buzzing energy of the common room straight into her.

Truly, the atmosphere was phenomenal, the stolen food and drinks from the kitchens juicer and a little more spiked than usual. Or maybe it was the sunlight still streaming through the windows as strongly as ever despite the past gloomy week. Whatever it was that made the day so electrically happy for everyone, it showed no signs of stopping.

This type of unrestrained feeling you always imagined started from the back of your head as s little star-like scribble that cast a net over you and spread the intensity throughout. This week it was stronger than it has been in a while.

You felt electric in the stands as you yelled for your team, an invisible line ripping the words from your throat before you even knew you were saying them. You felt elated as your housemates put their hands around you in delight, screaming themselves sore when they announced the winner. And you were feeling the happiness in your hair now, in every single strand from root to end as it swayed along with the bottle in your hand.

This was happy. This was joyful. This was utterly buttery in your chest and electric in the air.

You idly looked around the red and orange common room, which burned with excitement, deciding how to best spend this time before it runs out on Umbridge's watch and she ruins it.

No. No wasting thoughts on her today. She sucked enough life out of you and your housemates this year, she won't be doing it off the clock too.

Your eyes settled on possibly one of the strongest sources of this warmth - George Weasley, sitting on the arm of the couch next to his brother. The window behind him silhouetted him in gold perfectly, like the sun offered him to you. It accented how attractive he was, even if he burned a little at the top.

You've connected eyes before, talked before, even bantered. One wittier than the other every odd day, you toed the line between acquaintances and friends perfectly. Seeing as he's very popular, catching him in-between conversations was a matter of luck.

You imagined a line going from the center of your chest to his as you approached him. He pensively looked to the side, observing some goings-on on the far end of the room as you interrupted him.

"That was a good game. You got some very nice shots in," you said.

He turned to you with a mild close-mouthed 'hm', a look, and then a grin.

"You sure it was me?" he cocked his eyebrow and look at Fred on the couch next to Angelina, bumping knees with her and accepting congratulations in both of their names.

"You wear different numbers, genius. I know how to count this time."

"And you have my number memorized," he said, his voice glad.

"That would've been a great line if you were a Muggle."

"Pity, I already chose a magical career." he took a sip of his butterbeer and eyed you up, "Maybe I should start using my magical lines on you. Would those work better?" his eyes widened and his tone turned innocent at the end.

"I think I know too much anti-jinxes for that."

He pursed his lips in amusement. "Alright. What would work on you then?"

"Oh, I find responsibility and appropriacy really hot." you shot back, twirling a piece of your happy, charged up hair.

"Contradiction too," he said, "since you're still here."

"I find contradiction a natural state of the human soul, thus if I wasn't contradicting myself, I wouldn't fully be here."

"Hm. Brainy." he chuckled.

"Judgy. If you need me to simplify you can just say so."

"I think I can handle your smart mouth just fine."

"Then why am I winning?"

"I didn't realize this was a competition."

"Rookie mistake." you shook your head dramatically.

"I'm pretty sure it's a rookier mistake to assume you're winning. Who's the judge?"

"My innate inner sense of whether I'm winning or not."

"If it's inside you, then how would one file a complaint concerning an unfair ruling?"

"They wouldn't. It's a noble and just system that decided I'm in the lead. You just need to accept the truth."

"Don't make me come in there," he said, smirking good-naturedly.

"In where?" you shot back.

"In you." his smirk held on for a second before he seemed to realize what he said and his face scrunched up in apologetic laughter.

Your mind slipped into the gutter the way new yorkers fall into sinkholes filled with rats - hilariously fast.

Albeit greatly amused, he started to correct himself, "I didn't mean-"

"No, of course not." you licked your lips, "I understood you the first time " Was karma going to bite you in the ass for that lie? Who knows, but you might even be into that. Everything seems possible when the sun is shining. So he shone.

He grinned with his happy mouth and you once again noted how the light from the window behind him silhouetted him in the golden lining that made him look like a cutout glued onto the scene of this funny collage. His hair was aflame and his face was darker from the shadows but just as loudly burning with laughter.

This was happy.

You drew the word in your mind, line by line. H, a smooth move from the bottom, a decorative loop, then a parallel stroke, and a transversal. A, a circle with a tail, sharp move upward, and an even sharper drop for the backbone of p. P's tummy? Bulge? Nope, your mind shouldn't slip there in the middle of Binns’ class, no matter how boring he was. Another p, as George's knee bumped into yours. He was moved from "Mr. Wester, Phillip." for being disruptive, so he engaged in an under-the-table kind of disruption with his new tablemate.

You smiled. A long diagonal line, and another shorter one that cut into it. Y.

Happy.

You were, truly, right now. It sounded upside down to be happy though, both overall and when stuck in a soul-suckingly draining class, but you were.

George read over your shoulder, then audaciously engaged in over-the-table elbow-bumping-disruption and a cocked eyebrow. You straightened up, feeling a warm line unfold from the back of your head to the core of your brain, through the center of your chest, and straight to your stomach. Your happy line.

I'm happy, you mouthed.

Really? He mouthed back sarcastically yet good-naturedly. I can definitely see why. His eyes darted toward the professor. I say go for it, he's a catch. You might even be his type.

You burst out laughing, then immediately bit your lip. A few students, including Philip, looked at you as you shook with laughter, but professor Binns carried on.

George, on the other hand, shrugged with his shit-eating grin, pretending he has no idea why you were laughing, thus letting everyone know why you were laughing.

You scribbled, I don't know. What if it goes badly. I'd hate to be ghosted.

George raised his eyebrows at the Muggle slang you explained before. His hand slipped next to yours on the table and you felt your happy line thrum in approval. His hand was warm as he gently pressed it to yours, slowly took your quill, and scribbled back: Need someone more physical, huh? And I thought you were the romantic type.

Strong words for someone who never bought me dinner, you replied.

Mhm, as soon as I find a good line get you to agree to it.

Keep writing like that and I'll start thinking you fancy me.

Keep your mind in the gutter and I'll start thinking you don't fancy me back. He accented that line with a wink and an overdramatic lip bite.

You pouted sarcastically at him. Of course not, I only want you for your knobby knees.

He chuckled, reminded of the short line of warmth that connected your knees under the table. He pressed his into yours a little stronger, then pulled away.

That's a funny way of flirting. I'd know, I'm an expert at funny.

Self-proclaimed.

Untrue.

And I'm not flirting. If I was, you'd know it.

Would you? your breath hitched. For reasons you very well knew but refused to sound out to yourself, this short sentence drove the air around you two from joking to serious at breakneck speed.

Know if you were flirting with me? your happy line felt jumbled up in your stomach. He smiled at you.

Would you know if you were flirting with me?

The following week was arduous.

Gryffindors had a record amount of detentions, and Snape tore into them any and every chance he could. Even McGonagall was one edge, meaning lousy or missed homework was a death sentence. You forgot how to read from tiredness, submitting essays patchworked of other people's thoughts without ever having any information pass through your head. Everything was dull, gray, and dragged out.

Despite that, outside the castle the sky was blue and sunlight streamed through the soft clouds and a sweet breeze would blow around aimlessly. It was both comforting and a little mocking. The sky should be as exhausted and as beaten down as you. Good to know stress made you compare yourself to a literal sky. But maybe that's a little cruel. Nevertheless, it sounded like nature itself was turning its nose up at you, saying you're selfish for wanting grey skies, she doesn't care, she's above puny human affairs. The world turns and you have to turn with it or stop, then spend the rest of the time catching up.

You haven't stopped yet, but by all that is holy, you wanted to sleep. As the sun finally descended on a Friday after dinner, you finished your essays in hope that the next week might be kinder if you do everything quickly. The common room was dark, most of the light coming from the fire in the fireplace. It was also oddly empty for nine-thirty in the evening. Apparently, everyone had the same week as you.

Your almost finished essay laid on the table as you dozed, swinging your legs back and forth over the edge of your armchair.

The creak of the portrait opening caught your attention, and George Weasley walked in a second later, rubbing his sore hand and cussing.

Truly everyone had a shitty week.

"Love?" you said teasingly.

He looked up at you with a tired grin.

"It's late."

"Not really. You okay?"

"Nothing I can't handle, love." he sighed, leaning against the wall next to the fireplace.

"Can I see?" you crossed the room to stand in front of him. Again, the firelight licked at the lines of his face, clear and sharp. He had circles under his eyes and a heavily nibbled lip.

"It's nothing." still, George raised his hand. "Love." he added, distantly. He seemed to be staring right above your head. You looked at the middle line of his lips again. You imagined him biting it.

Was it him that bit it? That one hurt. You hoped it was him.

You took his hand in your and rubbed circles into his knuckles. His eye winced.

"I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault."

"What happened?" he closed his eyes.

"Two ickle firsties almost brought the wrath of Umbridge into themselves with some dungbombs. You know how it goes," he said, a corner of his lip tugging upwards. Your chest expanded looking at him being satisfied with himself. As he should be.

"How... responsible of you," you said.

His eyes snapped downwards to yours.

"Keep looking at me like that and I might also start being appropriate too, darling."

You stepped closer, your happy line thrumming against your chest like a quivering violin string.

"What if being responsible is enough?"

"Enough for what?" he breathed out before you pressed yourself against him.

At first, that's was it was - a press of two warm lips. Then he started to move slowly, almost gentlemanly. How appropriate.

As he touched you, you felt the daze of last week lift. The little star scribble on the back of your head lit up, pulsing with brightness rather than fogging your thought. This was clear, you felt his every stroke that made up his face and chest and hands. The scribble of happiness extended itself into a web, overtaking your brain - you could feel it and you wondered if he saw it too when he looked at you. You pulled away and lifted your head to check. Probably not, but his eyes were glassy and he gave you a dopey smile. He was glad you were there. You pressed your lips against his again. You were glad he was there too.

The web continued down your neck, arms and chest, into your legs until your toes buzzed with light coursing through you. You were more awake than you have been in a long time.

Your hands were the brightest of all, and as you touched his hands, connecting them fingertip to fingertip, things made sense. The web buzzed and his breath was warm against yours, hands pulsing with energy as your every lifeline connected into his.

#george weasely #fanfic #hp fanfic #george weasley x reader

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

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Chapter 14: Husband

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“Yeah, you should stay here. We have a wedding to plan tomorrow after all.”

“What?” You say in shock, following after Kita who already is in the house.

The house is exactly the same way when you left. The furniture are still where it used to be. Only difference is that, you aren’t around anymore. Your things aren’t there anymore. Everything in the house is only Kita’s things. The house has developed a widower’s feel while you were gone.

Passing by your room, the feeling of familiarity hits you. You stop yourself from crying, not wanting to cause any more trouble to Kita who you woke up at ungodly hour. As you reach the kitchen, the smell of alcohol reaches your nose. ‘Has he been drinking?’

“I can sleep in my old room...” You tell Kita, stopping in your tracks. Rice is already on the couch, sleeping comfortably on his old spot.

“There’s no more bed there now, you know. Did you forget that you made Osamu take all your things?” Kita reminds you as he eyes you while he continues to walk to his room. Not able to form an answer, you follow him.

Kita takes out a shirt and boxer shorts out of his cabinet and gives it you before he flops back down in his bed. You go to his bathroom and change into his clothes. It’s your first time wearing his clothing and the experience makes you forget everything you’ve been through for the past year. You’re going through that ‘i-am-a-grown-woman-but-i-feel-like-teenage-girl’ phase all over again and because of the same person.

After washing your face, you go back to his room. "Is he drunk?” You wonder as you stare at his sleeping figure. The urge to touch him is taking over you so you let it. Your fingers run through his grey hair, then to his shoulder. They stop on his chest to feel his heart beat. “I miss you...”

Shutting your eyes, you feel your heart ache and ease at the same time. You don’t know if Kita was bluffing or if he was serious about what he said, but you were. You meant every word that you said even if it was just a ramble. You were willing to marry him anytime of the day.

Morning comes and Kita wakes up first, his chest feeling heavy. He looks down and sees your head on his chest, your arm draped over his hips. His eyes squint in confusion. “That wasn’t a dream?” Kita puts the back of his hand on your forehead, making sure you are real and not a hallucination. “You’re really back...” A tear escapes his eye as he caresses your hair.

Kita moves to lay down on his side, letting your head settle on his arm. His eyes travel all over your body, taking all your features in. He silently starts crying, thanking all the stars he wished on, and every god he prayed to. He can’t believe you actually came back.

For a year, Kita tried to get a hold of you but you blocked his number. He even went to Tokyo to explain to you but he didn’t know where to find you. He never gave up on you, thus him being single again for another year. He never felt any interest towards anyone. He lived in chastity to prove to you that he really wanted you back and he was sorry.

The exact opposite of what you were doing. But he won’t be affected if he finds out, right?

Not wanting you to see him cry, he tries to leave the bed, but you hold onto him tightly. “I have to make breakfast,” he reasons, but you just press your face close to his chest.

“You can eat me for breakfast,” you joke, eyes still closed. You feel Kita stiffen from your words before he slowly pinches your arm. You jokingly wince before letting out a chuckle. “Five more minutes of cuddling then I’ll let you cook breakfast.”

“Okay...” Kita kisses your forehead, wrapping his arms around your torso. The two of you stay like that in silence, the quiet you’ve been wanting for a long time. It’s safe to say that Kita is your rest, your charging station, and your battery has been drained. You haven’t seen him for one painful year after all.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” You ask Kita, but he doesn’t answer you so you assume that he was really drunk last night. “Never mind...”

“If you’re asking about the wedding, I’m still thinking of how to propose to you,” Kita confesses, causing you to grin. You sit up, your face hovering over his.

Kita takes in your appearance and notices how you look more mature because of your haircut. Aside from your now shorter locks, he realizes that the way you speak is different from before. You have a much softer and calmer way of talking now.

“But I already proposed to you last night,” you tell him, causing him to cock an eyebrow at you. “So let’s just talk about the wedding or something.”

“Why are you so eager to get married?” Kita asks you seriously so you pout in disappointment. You were so excited from his words last night that you even dreamt about your wedding.

“I just don’t want to lose you again,” you answer, lying back on the bed. Kita moves closer to your body, snuggling his face to your chest.

“We will never lose each other ever again. I promise you that.” Kita kisses you before placing his head back on your bust. Your fingers find their way to his hair, running through his grey locks. “But there are things I want to do before getting married because I might never get to do it...”

“Like what?”

“Take risks and enjoy my youth,” Kita responds. “I don’t regret doing everything by the rules, but sometimes I think about how I should have enjoyed at the same time.”

“Isn’t that regretting?” You chuckle, ruffling his hair.

“Is it?” Kita sits up, smiling at you.

You nod. “You know, even if we’re married, we can still do the things you want to do.”

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You are so wrong. 4 months have passed, and Kita and you haven’t spent much time ever you since you started preparing for your wedding. It’s mostly Kita who processes the papers and such, since you are always busy from work. You constantly had to travel from Tokyo to Osaka because of your job. The two of you decided to postpone the wedding ceremony, but still get married in papers.

“Babe, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but maybe we should try renovating the house?” You suggest as the two of you eat dinner.

“Sure. I don’t mind,” Kita agrees to your request.

Kita always does. He says yes to everything you want to do. Sometimes you ask him about his opinions, but he just agrees with you. He puts your feelings first before his, that there are times you feel bad about it. You’ve talked to him about it and he said that his grandmother had once told him that if he was to marry he should live by these words.

“What’s hers is hers, and what’s yours is hers.”

Kita doesn’t only apply those words in belongings, but also words. He puts you first no matter what. Basically, Kita worships you. It isn’t obsessive as most will think.

What’s stressing you is that, everyone advised you that “marriage is full of ups and downs.” But your marriage with Kita is a straight unbending 180° line. The two of you even haven’t had sex, much to your disappointment. You don’t know if it’s your busy schedule or Kita’s platonic personality that is causing this linear marriage.

“I plan to add more rooms and maybe a second floor? In case we have children,” You say your idea, taking Kita aback from the word children. He chokes on his food, so you tilt your head to the side in worry. “Do you not want children?”

Kita clears his throat before answering you. “I do. But do you?”

“I wouldn’t bring up the topic of children if I don’t,” you reply proudly and he just shakes his head. “What?”

“(Y/N), you cry when I don’t give you attention for 5 minutes. If we have a kid, I will have divided attention. Are you sure?” Kita tells you, so you start thinking about it.

“When have I cried when you didn’t give me attention?” You ask, not believing his words.

Kita deadpans at you. “Last night.”

“But I still want to have children with you!” You whine and Kita shakes his head once again. “Like my Pinterest feed is full of babies. I’m ready to be a mom!”

“I think it’s too early to think and talk about children.”

“It’s not. Please! I want a baby!”

“That’s only a baby fever. We can have one when you’re actually ready to have one.”

“But-”

“I said what I said. Let’s drop the subject,” Kita says sternly so you just pout and obey him. It’s his first time saying no to your words and you feel so hurt. You have gotten used to him babying you that you forgot how scary he could be. Hurt is an understatement of what to feel at the moment. It sounded like he doubted your readiness as a mother. How does he know about your own capabilities?

The dinner continues awkwardly, Rice staring at the two of you from the corner, probably wondering why you two are quiet. Your phone starts ringing so you check who it is and see Kise’s name shining brightly. You gulp, glancing at Kita who is staring at you with eyes asking who’s calling you.

“Kise!” You fake a chuckle, moving to your room. Kita eyes you suspiciously, wondering why you had to go inside the room just to talk to someone. “Why did you call?”

“I had a flight going to Osaka, and then I remembered you’re near Osaka, right? Wanna go out and have some drinks?” Kise asks. Not having the heart to say no to the pure soul, you say yes. You change into semi casual clothes and then head out of your room.

“Where are you going?” Kita questions, surprised to see you all dressed up.

“A friend from Tokyo invited me to drink. Do you wanna go with us?” You smile at him awkwardly, forgetting that he’s around. You even forgot that you were in the middle of dinner.

“I’ll stay at home,” Kita replies, putting his chopsticks down.

“Can you drive me to our meeting place?” You request and he nods. He takes the car key from the drawer and heads out before you, Rice following behind him.

Kita opens the door for Rice, letting him sit at the backseat. Then, he opens the door for you, hand on the upper doorway so you don’t bump your head. He puts your seatbelt on for you as well, before giving you a soft kiss on top of your head. It’s the little things that make you fall in love with him over and over again.

In the middle of the drive, Kita speaks up. “I’m sorry for being rude to you a while ago. I know you wanted to talk more about it.”

“It’s fine...” you lower your head, not wanting Kita to see the sad look on your face.

“I’m just worried that you won’t get to enjoy like this if you become a mother. You won’t be able to meet your friends often, you wouldn’t be able to travel as much as now. It’ll be hard for you to give all of these just for motherhood. Let’s enjoy ourselves first, then maybe in the future, we can have an addition to our little family,” Kita explains his side to you, his soft voice soothing the pain you felt. He takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of it, his eyes on the road.

“I love you,” is all you can say, because he’s right. You aren’t ready to give up the life you’re living right now.

“I love you more,” Kita replies, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The rest of ride is silent, since Rice is also asleep at the backseat. You arrive in front of the pub which Kise gave you the address of. “Rice and I will go visit Osamu. Just call me when you want to be picked up.”

“Yes, babe. Thank you,” you thank Kita, giving him a peck on his lips. “You’re the best.”

“Have fun.” Kita gives you a proper kiss before he lets you get out of the car. As he sees you safely enter the pub, he drives off to Osamu’s place. Arriving at his house, he notices his former teammate’s cars parked outside. “They’re all really here.”

Kita and Rice get out of the car, then head up to Osamu’s apartment. He presses the door bell and a few seconds later, Atsumu opens the door. “Oh! Kita’s here! Mr. Married is here!” The blonde shouts and the people inside the house cheers. Rice runs inside the house, greeting familiar people with a lick on their faces.

“I thought you couldn’t come, Shinsuke?” Aran asks the former captain. Kita sits beside him on the couch, Rice jumping to sit on his lap.

“(Y/N) went out with a friend so I was able to come here,” Kita explains.

The truth is, the Inarizaki Volleyball Club is holding a reunion. Kita, as the captain, is of course invited. But the day before, he said he couldn’t come because he didn’t want to leave you alone in your house. He also couldn’t bring you along since Atsumu whined about not bringing partners because he doesn’t have one. So he rejected the invitation, but here he is.

“Want a drink?” Omimi asks Kita and the latter shakes his head.

“No. I got to drive,” Kita reasons, petting Rice to sleep.

Two hours later, Kita receives a call from you, so he assumes that you wanted to be picked up. “I have to go. (Y/N)’s calling.”

“Simp,” Atsumu teases him so Kita flicks his forehead before heading out of Osamu’s place and driving to the pub where he dropped you off.

Kita calls you, not seeing you wait for him outside. He has told you a lot of times not to make him wait if you asked to be picked up. “Where are you? I’m already outside.”

“Babe, I called you a while ago because my friend offered to drive me home. He ordered more drinks and food so...” You reply and Kita immediately feels angry from hearing that you’re drinking with a guy, and just the two of you. How the hell is this guy friend of yours supposed to drive you home when you’re both under the influence of alcohol?

“No. Let’s go home. Right now.” Kita says in a demanding voice and he hears you groan from the other line. A couple of minutes later, he sees you walk out of the pub with Kise. Being the friendly and flirty guy he is, Kise does a quick cheek to cheek with you before letting you leave him. It fuels Kita’s irritation even more.

Kita is a jealous man, he admits that and he won’t even hide it.

“Who was that?” Kita asks as soon as you enter the car.

“I told you. A friend from Tokyo,” you answered, annoyance lingering from your tone.

Kita drives back to your house really fast. The ride back home actually scared you a little bit, since Kita wasn’t paying attention to the road signs and stoplights. He is as angry as you are.

As you enter the house, Kita slams the door close, startling you. “I’m gonna ask you again. Who was that?” You roll your eyes and ignore him, annoying Kita even more. “(Y/N), you’re a married woman. You shouldn’t drink like that alone with other guys.”

“And why is that?” You cock an eyebrow at him and he sighs heavily.

“It’s because I feel uncomfortable,” Kita answers you straightforwardly, his response making you scoff.

“You feel uncomfortable because I was with a friend? Is this because of jealousy?” You snap, testing the waters. Kita bites his lower lip, controlling his anger. “You know, just because we’re married, it doesn’t mean that you get to control my life.”

Your words hit Kita like a train traveling at a high speed. While he dedicates his whole life to you, and then there you are, acting as if marriage is just dating. He feels so stupid doing everything for you, and you’re not even giving half the effort.

Ever since you got married, Kita does everything to make life easier for you. He cooks you breakfast, lunch and dinner every single day. He doesn’t put up a fight with you because he knows how much stress you get from work. He cancels plans with friends just so he could spend time with you since you barely had free time. He doesn’t even ask for attention from even if he’s dying to take you out on a date, because he knows you prioritize your work instead of him. You wouldn’t even free your schedule for you wedding ceremony.

Of course you don’t notice Kita’s pent up frustration because you think that’s just who he is. But no, he tries so hard to be the best husband to you but you’re not even trying to be a wife to him.

But today is when his patience runs thin. First, you leave him to eat alone in the middle of dinner. Second, you suddenly say you’re leaving and drinking out with a friend. Third, you allow this friend to be touchy and too friendly with you.

“You know what, (Y/N), I don’t think this is jealousy anymore. As a husband, I feel so disrespected, but I don’t think you know that because you don’t see me as one.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Facts:

When asked what marriage means to them, Japanese university students tend to use words like “respect, acceptance” and “caring, help and being there” while American university students tended to use words like “important, essential” and “unconditional."

Ordinary Japanese rarely had their marriages formalized or had any kind of wedding or ceremony. Traditionally, once a man began regularly visiting a woman the were considered married. Later when the man's mother considered herself no longer able to do her household chores by herself she asked her son's "wife" to move in. This occasion was often accompanied by a small party to introduce her to the neighbors.

The Democratic Party of Japan government elected in August 2009 wanted to introduce legislation that allowed married couples to use separate surnames.

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akakeiiji · 4 years

Note

Hi! This is my first time requesting something, i was wondering if you could do headcanons or reactions for Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, sugawara and Nishinoya who have an s/o who is a medical student and works as a paramedic in her free time and tends their injuries after games or durning them, especially oikawa 😔🙏🏻

Omg anon, if this ask is based off of you then you are amazing!! Keep up the great work!

Also I finally broke through my creative block and actually wrote something, I actually finished these hcs a few days ago but my laptop died before I could post so I had to start from scratch huhu (having to start over drained me so much hence why this took so long to post)

✂︎・・・masterlist

-`,✎Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, Sugawara and Nishinoya’s reaction to their S/O tending to their injuries

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa is the king of overworking himself

Even when he doesn’t have any matches to worry about, he’s in the gym practicing and practicing till he physically can’t anymore

It’s no wonder why he gets injured a lot, he just never knows when to stop

If it weren’t for you his body would be in horrible shape

You always know what to say and do to get him to stop practicing for the day, and you’re always the one tending to his sore and exhausted body ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He loves flexing you, he needs everyone to know how smart you are

When I say everyone, I mean everyone

You turn around for a bit and he’s suddenly telling the cashier how amazing you are for being a paramedic

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa is actually very smart so sometimes he’ll study with you in his free time, helping you out by quizzing you and stuff

He studies your material sometimes, idly reading through your papers and textbooks sometimes

He’ll just randomly blurt out random medical facts, which may or may not be a ploy to impress you

One day when it was reaching the end of a match, you could tell that something was wrong with Tooru, it wasn’t obvious but you knew when he was in pain

You internally screamed at him, urging him to sit the rest of the match out but this was Oikawa you were talking about

Luckily the match ended quickly after that with Oikawa’s team winning but he almost collapses from the sheer pain he was feeling on his leg, it had been acting up again from his old injury

You were absolutely livid because it wouldn't have been so bad if he stopped playing when it started hurting but you were too worried to lecture him

There are tears prickling his eyes but he’s still smiling and telling everyone he’ll be okay because you’re there

“They’re the best of best, they’ll be able to help me!”

He’d be bedridden for a while and, of course, you’d be by his side the entire time

You scolded him for an hour and he couldn’t run away so he had to endure it all

For the first few days, everything would be okay, but after a while, he starts getting restless and keeps trying to get up to do things by himself

You would physically restrain him to the bed if you could

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

JUST KIDDING….Unless

He wants nothing more than to go back to training, he’d literally start dreaming about volleyball on some nights

You have to constantly remind him that if he doesn't recover properly he’ll just worsen his leg so that he doesn’t run away while you’re at school or at work

“If it gets worse, they might have to amputate it.”

“What?! You can’t be serious…you’re joking, right?”

Since he can’t go out or train anymore, he spends the rest of his time trying to get your attention

He’s so pouty and whiny, always calling for you for no good reason

While you’re studying in the other room, he’ll suddenly call for you saying he needs you

When you go over to him, he’ll just be like: “I need you~” and you’d have to fight the urge to strangle him

He really just wants your attention, pls help him

In all seriousness though, he’s so thankful to you and truly appreciates what you do

While you’re checking on his leg one day, he’d take your gentle hands in his and pull you in for a hug

“Thank you for putting up with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“…also I need to pee.”

Akaashi Keiji

My son

My precious boy

It pains me to write about him getting hurt

He’s so supportive of you and your studies, he knows how hard studying medicine is

He always checks in on you when you’re studying or working

He’s the type of boyfriend that will give you little snacks while you’re working and remind you to take breaks

Whenever he feels sick or gets hurt, you’re the first one he calls because he trusts you the most and because he knows how capable you are

But this happens very rarely because he’s really careful and knows his limits

During one of his matches though, he suddenly falls over after setting a ball, clutching his leg

He’s immediately rushed over to the infirmary but when they arrive you’re already there wheezing and panting after running all the way there from the bleachers

The nurse tells you that he sprained his ankle pretty badly and that he’d recover just fine but you still felt so bad because you could see how much Akaashi was in pain

I'm legitimately hurting rn while writing this

After getting injured, he starts overthinking so fricking much

He’ll start thinking that he was pulling his team down and begin questioning his skills as a player

You literally have to slap some sense into him or he’ll just drown in his thoughts

You’ll have to cup his face in your hands and urge him to look at you while you tell him how much of an amazing player he is and how injuries like these are inevitable when playing sports

He’ll only start feeling better after this but he still needs a huge dose of your hugs and kisses to fully recover

Out of all the boys, he’s probably the easiest to take care of (he’s prolly tied with Suga)

He’s more obedient and doesn’t mind staying in bed for a long time

But at the same time, he’s so stubborn and says he doesn’t need your help

He just keeps thinking that he’s burdening you while you have so much on your plate

“I don’t need your help, love. I’m completely fine.”

“Keiji, there are literally tears in your eyes.”

He subconsciously gets clingier than usual as the days go by, always trying to get your attention

He isn’t as obvious as other ehem tooru and tries to do so in more subtle ways

Like he’ll just accidentally drop his book and when you go to pick it up he’ll pull you onto the bed and before you know it you’ve been cuddling for two hours straight

The extra affection is his own little way of saying thank you

While you’re checking on his injuries he’ll grab your hand with his and press your knuckles to his lips

“Thank you, love.”

My heart burst

Miya Atsumu

Oikawa part 2 but snarkier

He just doEsn’T kNow whEn to StOP

He always finds some nitty gritty detail he absolutely needs to fix during his regular practice and stays after hours to work on it

He can train for hours without realizing it, before he knows it it’s midnight, he’s the only soul left in the building and his legs are dying

Other times, when you arrive home to find your boyfriend missing, you immediately head over to his gym and drag him home

During a match, he dives down to save a ball only to crash on the ground awkwardly and injure his shoulder

He’s forced to leave the court after failing to convince the referee and his coach that he was fine and he was absolutely livid

Not at them but at himself

He thinks that the injury was a sign that he was slacking off or losing his edge

He goes off on a tangent about how he needs to practice more and how he can’t afford to waste time

Nobody could calm him down until you arrived

After you got there and talked some sense into him, he finally complies and lets himself be lead away to the infirmary

He’s down in the dumps for at least a week, usually found grumbling at the tv, unsure of what to do with this unprecedented free time

But soon after a lot of talks lectures with you and food sent by his brother, he starts going back to his usual old self

He’s absolutely basking in this extra attention from you, he secretly loves being doted on

It used to really irk him when he finds he can’t do certain things with his injury like opening a jar

But once it dawns on him that you’re there, he will totally abuse this just to get your attention and to bother you

“Hey, can you help me open the fridge?”

“You can do that by yourself.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON’T HELP YOUR INJURED BOYFRIEND.”

Whenever you’re checking on his shoulder, he always distracts you by kissing your lips or neck while you’re trying to be a good s/o and it always ends up in a makeout session or more

Because he’s got so much more free time, he’s usually found in your shared apartment, clinging onto you while you’re studying waiting for you to finish

“Are you ready to dote on me?”

“No, be patient.”

“>:’(”

When the doctor tell him he’s fully recovered, the first thing he does is lift you in his arms and twirl you around

Sugawara Koushi

Precious bby

This mama bear rarely gets injured, he’s usually the one nursing others

You two are like this wonderful duo with magic curing hands

He absolutely loves that you’re pursuing your dreams of being in the medical field and low-key shows you off to everyone he knows

Especially to his parents, they love you almost as much as they love him don't tell him that tho

He’s really careful while playing because he hates being in pain, like more so than the average person if you get what I mean

While blocking though, he ends up injuring his wrists from the sheer strength of the spike and the not so ideal positioning of his arms

He has tears in his eyes while he’s being brought to the infirmary and your heart literally broke as you watched from the sidelines

He was stuck with a wrist splint for a couple of weeks

Like Atsumu he constantly needs your help to do mundane things like open cans and such

Unlike Atsumu though, he’s less whiny and more distraught over the fact that he’s always being doted on

He isn’t used to being the one taken care of

He always tries not to burden you and always tries to do things by himself

“Koushi! What was that crash I heard?”

“Nothing! Don’t mind me, just focus on your work.”

“WHY ARE YOU COOKING!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMNIT—”

He broke two plates that day trying to make your favorite meal

Apparently cooking with a splint is pretty difficult, he takes note of this

He becomes guilty when you do things like cook and clean, he tries to help as best he can but you always tell him to just sit back and relax but he jUSt cAn’T

He doesn’t want you to worry about stuff like that because you need to study!! He feels so helpless sometimes

While you’re cooking dinner, you’ll just turn to the side and do a double take when you see him staring at you with wide, concerned eyes

“What?”

“I want to help :(”

He’s literally the living embodiment of this emoji: 🥺

You let him help with little stuff like stirring and watching the pot while you cut the vegetables and stuff

He immediately feels better after this, he wants to feel at least a little bit helpful

At the end of the day, while you two are in bed, he’ll nudge closer to you and pepper your face with kisses

“What was that for?”

“I just love you so much, thank you.”

Nishinoya Yuu

Sorry but everyone at the ER is on a first-name basis with Nishinoya

LISTEN HE’S SO CHAOTIC AND WILD, HE ALWAYS GETS HIMSELF INTO DUMB SITUATIONS

His grandfather didn’t even bat an eye when the school nurse would call him informing him that Nishinoya managed to break his arm during his math exam don’t ask

When he found out about your studies and your job he was so giddy and kept telling you that it was fate and that you two completed each other

He’s literally the proudest boyfriend that you could ever have, always telling everyone about how smart and talented you are

“Yeah, you may be a rocket scientist but you will never be as smart as my s/o!”

“Yuu, what are you doing—”

He loves having a smart s/o, he’s always being wowed by your vast knowledge

You can always find him silently cheering you in the corner while you’re studying

Basically, he’s your number one fan and supporter

Asides from that, he’s also your number one patient

Whenever he gets hurt, you’re the first one he turns to, he tells you it’s good practice and that it’s helping you improve your skills in an attempt to stop you for scolding him

One time, he sprained his elbow while trying to do some new move he saw on tv

Insert vine: I don’t care that you broke your elbow

Except you do care, a lot in fact

He’s lowkey tearing up when being rushed to the infirmary because it hurts but mostly because he just wants to play

You have to be so strict and stern with him

He’s so energetic and bouncy, he definitely doesn’t respond well to being bound with bandages or slings

If it weren’t for you, he probably would have worsened his injuries, but he’s a huge simp so he listens to everything you say…mostly

Since he can’t use his energy for volleyball and sports, he’ll direct that energy towards giving you attention

He becomes sooo affectionate and clingy, he just wants to shower you with love

He gets restless often, whenever he does he’ll plop down beside you and wrap his good arm around your waist while you’re working as a way to remind himself to stay put and to not jump out the window from boredom

“Kiss my boo-boo?”

“What are you? Five?”

Unlike the others, he’s very very open about how thankful he is to have you taking care of him, he would scream it out the window if you would let him

He reminds you every day how blessed he is to have you, at the most random of times actually

“Can you open this bottle for me?”

“Sure.”

“GOD, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YOU?”

“CALM DOWN—”

He’s so in love, please save him

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