#quick sketch and got lazy with the hands i’m sorry

[kk1smet]

Above all, boop thy enemy

#trust k to make it drarry #quick sketch and got lazy with the hands i’m sorry #boop your mutuals your pets your siblings and of course your arch nemesis #draco malfoy #harry james potter #drarry #kismet draws #this is for everyone who booped me #Thanks to Lilith for Draco’s username ♥︎

[nbrook29]

Kiss or Slap

Sander doesn’t remember when exactly their group made the riverside near the Scheldt their new hangout spot, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it as a cold breeze washes over his overheated body, providing a momentary relief against the scorching heat falling from the sky. It’s probably why the park is fuller than it usually is on Thursday afternoons, packed with people spread on their picnic blankets, searching for a bit of shadow under the big trees and desperately craving a bit of wind. 

It’s so hot he doesn’t even feel like sketching, preferring to just lie on the grass without moving a single muscle, and dying in peace. Even the enticing smell of cinnamon rolls that Noor brought with her isn’t enough for him to reach out and take one from the basket, the action requiring too much movement on his part.

“Guys, come on, we have to start or we’ll never get it done! Sander, get your lazy ass up.” He grunts when he feels Leon’s merciless fingers jabbing him in the ribs.

“Can’t we wait until it gets a little less hot?”

“No, cause that’s not happening in the nearest future and we need new content,” Nathan butts in, followed by Noor, which makes Sander officially outvoted. So he heaves a deep sigh, puts his shirt back on and ruffles his hair to make himself more presentable, rolling his eyes at Noor’s appreciative whistling.

“Someone’s gonna snatch himself a bunch of kisses today with that smoldering look,” she teases, pretending to give him a once over.

“Is that your way of telling me you want one for yourself, sweetheart?” He’s immensely proud of himself when her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

“Eww, no, feels like incest at this point.” Which is kinda true given the fact they’ve known each other since kindergarten and became best friends making sand castles. He fires an obnoxious wink at her, fully anticipating a shove which comes as expected within seconds, with Noor calling him a creep in between laughter.

“Who should we start with? Senne? Wanna go first?” Sander watches as Leon takes out his camera equipment and checks the settings as the rest collects their things.

“I guess, yeah. And then Nathan after me?”

“I’m not doing it, man, you know Britt, she’s gonna flip out.”

“Be a good reason to break up with her,” Sander mutters under his breath, not really feeling apologetic when Nathan shoots him a glare. It would be a long time coming, and honestly, Sander can’t wait for that moment to come. Just being in her presence gives him chills, she’s that much of a horrible person. A few years ago, he read something about alternate universes and sometimes when he looks at her he can’t help but think there’s a history there with the two of them, in a past life or something. At least it would explain that weird energy between them.

If it’s true, he feels very sorry for that Sander. 

He roots for him to run far away from said devil’s spawn.

“I can go next, I don’t have the ball and chain,” Noor says innocently, but she’s smirking over Nathan’s shoulder at Sander who pretends to high five her in their shared hatred for Britt.

“Yeah, us lonely birds will sacrifice ourselves and take the hit for the wellbeing of our channel,” Sander laments playfully, making Senne snort.

“Dude, you’re on your own by your own choice.”

“And pickiness. Don’t forget pickiness,” Noor adds smugly.

Sander huffs in protest. “I’m not picky! I just...” He cuts off because he’s not about to just explain it all now.

“Just what?”

“Specific about what I want.”

Brown curls, brown eyes, shortish, lean, pierced ear, cute giggle, elegant hands and a smile brighter than the sun. 

To be exact.

“Yeah. That’s picky.”

“Whatever,” he replies grumpily, and decides to ignore Noor’s knowing look. Sometimes he feels like she has a sixth sense and can read him like a book. Or she’s just less oblivious than the boys in their friend group. That’s a totally possible option too.

Thankfully, she doesn’t push him further (she’s awesome like that), though Sander has a feeling she’s gonna grill him later when they’re alone. For now, she checks her lipstick in her phone as they all briefly plan the video.

Not like there’s that much to plan; a few days ago, they decided to shoot a kiss or slap challenge for their YouTube channel because it had been wildly requested by their viewers.

Sander still doesn’t quite know how he became a part of a YouTube channel in the first place, always considering himself to be a bit more, well, sophisticated than that? But Leon was into it from the beginning and made them all participate in exchange for free beer, until one day one of their videos blew up.

If you can call getting 100k views on one video blowing up. 

Anyway, they got semi-popular amongst Flemish teens and even managed to snatch a sponsorship with Mentos (however small the offer was) that paid actual money. And he had just managed to move out of his family house so any money coming his way he welcomed with no questions asked. 

So they’ve kept shooting silly challenges slash anything else that’s a trend at a given time and have been able to cover their art supply needs with what little they earned. And, though Sander refused to admit it in the beginning, it’s actually kinda fun. It’s definitely better than his part time job at Pull&Bear where he has to deal with obnoxious customers on an almost daily basis.

They record a short introduction near the river, quickly going over the rules and explaining that the three of them will be competing in who gets more kisses versus slaps. 

“Hey, you know what, this is actually unfair cause you both can kiss anybody,” Senne points out all of a sudden, receiving four pairs of unimpressed glances.

“No one’s stopping you from getting kisses from boys too, dude,” Sander is quick to shut him up, shit-eating grin on his face as he gives him his first (light) slap to the cheek. 

They follow Senne around the park with a camera as he turns on his charm and smiles sweetly at the girls he chooses for the challenge, doing surprisingly well on the first few attempts. But when they venture deeper into the park and he tries his luck with college girls, he gets 5 slaps in the row to the rest of the group’s utter delight. In the end, his results are a blow to his pride and even Sander feels sorry for him, giving him a pat on the back while trying to hold his laughter in at Senne’s grumpy face.

Noor does much better, naturally, as her upbeat personality and a wide smile have always made boys and girls turn their heads. She gets a kiss after kiss, blush after blush, and two phone numbers in the process. Senne argues again that it’s unfair because no one’s gonna slap a girl anyway, but Leon just calls him a sore loser while Noor shamelessly flirts in French with another girl right in front of the camera.

Sander’s very proud.

Taking a quick sip of water, he gives Leon a thumbs up and starts his round, coming over to three blond girls chilling near the skateboarding ramps, trying very hard not to come off as creepy and clarifying the kiss part being only a cheek kiss. The girls erupt in giggles, but they all grant him a light kiss. One of them tries to flirt with him after, but he shoots her down before she can get too into it.

“Such a heartbreaker, you,” Noor coos at Sander’s pained face when they all walk away.

“That’s you, and you actually enjoy it,” he quips back, sticking his tongue at her.

“I do not, shut up!”

Fifteen minutes and fourteen kisses later he’s officially in the lead, sealing his victory with a kiss number fifteen he receives from a cute redhead. He’s gloating in Senne’s bemused face about nobody choosing to slap him when he stops in his tracks.

It���s the proof of his hopeless infatuation that he’d recognize that laugh everywhere.

He looks around for its source, but he comes up short. Then, his eyes focus on the skatepark area and his heart starts beating faster.

Because it feels like a sign. Like the universe is giving him a chance to finally do something. Make a move.

“Hey, can we shoot one more try?” He asks the guys, trying to sound casual while glancing furtively in the direction of brown curls.

“You’ve already won, but I guess?”

Nobody questions him about his reasons, they just follow him to the ramp.

And he’s so fucking nervous. 

It’s incredible, really, how he generally has no problems talking to people he’s interested in, conversation flowing without him even trying, gaining easy smiles and appreciative looks wherever he goes, some natural confidence to him. 

But that boy. That boy is something else.

He makes him question everything he says, makes his palms sweat and makes his deep hidden shyness come onto the surface.

Sander saw him for the first time during Open Day at the Academie in may, strolling casually through the hallway with his friend, completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing to Sander’s heart.

That was the day Sander saw an angel. 

Fate placed him on his path again sooner than he could’ve hoped, the boy participating in a 2 week film course at his school only several days after he saw him for the first time. And he tried so hard to convince himself to talk to him over that time, but he only managed a few smiles while passing him by in the hallway. 

That and that one stupid joke he said to him while they were waiting in line at the cafeteria that makes him cringe in despair just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s like his entire cool evaporates when he’s near him.

But, the boy laughed at it. So maybe it wasn’t as horrible as Sander is making it to be. Or he was just being nice. 

Robbe. 

Robbe, who he’s been crushing on ever since that fateful day in may.

Robbe, who was at the same party he was last weekend.

Robbe, who he talked to at that party and managed to calm his nerves enough to be charming and funny.

Robbe, who giggled, blushed and bit his lip at Sander’s dumb jokes that evening.

Robbe, who slipped through his fingers because Sander blacked out soon after.

He almost never drinks, but that one night he did, celebrating the beginning of summer break, and not realizing his usual abstinence meant he was now officially a lightweight. What an awful timing.

Robbe doesn’t notice him right away, having his back turned to him while talking animatedly to his friends. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile to his face to hide his nervousness, he approaches them.

“Hey guys, got a second?”

He notices the recognition in Robbe’s face right away, and Sander shoots him a quiet “hi” when his eyes meet his, an unsure smile blooming on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” One of the boys nods at the camera.

“I’m Sander, and we’re shooting a video for our YouTube channel, the kiss or slap challenge,” he quickly explains, the boys’ faces lighting up.

“Hey, we have a channel too! I’m Moyo, this is Jens, Aaron, and Robbe.” Moyo reaches out to bump his fist with him and damn, Sander has to find that channel if Robbe is a part of it.

Jens levels him with a look. “So, you want us to kiss you or slap you?” 

“Pretty much, yeah?” Sander chuckles because he’s aware it’s ridiculous, but he’s a man on a mission here, give him a break.

“I think Robbe should represent all of us, don’t you think so?” Moyo proposes, tongue in his cheek as he checks with the rest of his friends. Sander catches the death glare Robbe sends the boy before looking back at him and crossing his arms, looking a bit out of place. And, fuck, the last thing Sander wants is to make him uncomfortable.

So he asks softly, “you’re in?” and waits for agonizing five seconds as Robbe watches him, eyes narrowed, before his features smooth out and he smiles at him.

“Sure, why not.”

Relieved, Sander lets out a chuckle and tries to keep his cool. “Okay then - kiss or slap?”

Robbe squints against the sun and makes him wait another few seconds before he answers, but Sander’s not worried because there’s a soft smile on his face and obviously his angel wouldn’t-

“Slap.”

Wait, what.

He can hear his friends bursting in laughter at this unexpected turn of events while Sander can only stare in shock because how could he miscalculate the situation this much?

Gulping, confused and heartbroken, he asks, “you’re sure?”, to which Robbe nods with a poorly hidden glee.

“But you have to close your eyes cause I can’t hit you while you're looking at me.”

Heaving a deep sigh and trying to save a face despite the humiliation flooding his body, he nods and closes his eyes, steeling himself for it.

But it never comes.

Suddenly, he feels a hand cupping his cheek and he flinches a little, but then soft lips touch his in a kiss so gentle he blinks his eyes open, not knowing what’s happening.

“That was payback for you promising to call me and not keeping your word,” Robbe whispers against his lips before leaning away, something sad and wistful passing through his face. Sander is left completely dumbfounded, ignoring the hollering from the two groups as his eyes fleet all over Robbe’s face.

It’s difficult for him to collect his thoughts because holy fuck, Robbe has just kissed him and he’s internally freaking out. He finally manages to get his bearings when the remnants of a smile slip off Robbe’s lips.

“I-, Robbe, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you. At the party?” He doesn’t look like he believes a word Sander is saying.

“Um, I kinda blacked out and don’t remember much after like one-ish?”

“You saved it though, I saw you typing it in,” Robbe argues again, but this time he doesn’t look so sure. “Wait, what’s your number?”

Sander watches him entering digit after digit before hitting call. He fully expects a plain number to appear on his screen, eyes widening when he sees what pops up instead.

zk bambieys 🥺🦌👁️💘🧡💖💞 calling

“Fuck, you did give me your number.” He’s not fast enough to hide his screen from Robbe, but he can't even feel embarrassment once he notices the frown disappeared from his face.

“Bambi eyes?” There's a teasing note in his voice, but his pink cheeks sell him out.

Sander scratches his head. "I was very drunk, you can't hold it against me. Also, your eyes are really beautiful," he clarifies, winking when Robbe laughs at his shameless flirting. "Hey, I tried to find you on instagram, but nothing came up. I was really hoping we're gonna bump into each other again. Sorry for being a dumbass and not realizing I had your number this entire time?”

“It’s okay.” Robbe shoves his hand into the pockets of his jeans, swaying on his heels. Sander decides to put them both out of their misery and take the initiative.

“So if I asked you out, would you say yes?”

It looks like Robbe’s about to nod, but then he bites his lip, an almost cheeky smile directed at him. “I guess you have to call me to find out.” And then he gets on his skateboard and casually skates away to the nearest ramp, pulling a surprised laugh out of Sander.

If he was intrigued before, now he’s totally smitten with this wonder of a boy, because damn. 

Their friends finally seem to regain their voices and speak over each other at what just happened, but Sander doesn’t pay them any attention, just takes out his phone again and pressing the call button. 

Watching as Robbe comes to a full stop at the top of the ramp, he cocks his head with a grin and waits until he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Sander.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Robbe laughs into the speaker.

“Will you go out with me?”

He meets his eyes across the skatepark as Robbe makes him wait again.

Then, with a smile so radiant it overshadows the sun, the boy finally gives him his answer.

“Yes.”

#wtfock #my fics #i think i prefer writing sobbe in canon #i kinda struggle with the AU versions of them #😫

[palbabor-writes]

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy. 

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.  

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst 

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices. 

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.  

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening. 

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth. 

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious. 

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets. 

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself. 

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids. 

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese. 

You hadn’t been Japanese. 

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her. 

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias 

hahaha & part iii

#asks #answered asks #on kiddos #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #drabble #pal muses

[berryberryrad]

𝙨𝙛𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙩⚡️

.

shino aburame, sfw alphabet prompt

if this comes across as ooc, literally hit me pls. I’m usually kiba biased, but something about shino has just been hitting different recently.

warnings: blatant abuse of grammar and punctuation. cursing. i’m no writer, i just tell it like i see it. I wrote this on mobile and am not a tech guru so I wish I could do the fancy little, “keep reading,” bit but I’m

word count, 3983

.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

we’ve all come to the generalized conclusion that the aburame clan aren’t handsy. shino falls in line with this, and pda or even private interactions that involve skin to skin contact aren’t going to be his forte. I can see him holding hands, or the aspect of interlocking pinkies with this boy while you’re both reading or walking throughout the woods just has me weak in my knees. a more common way shino would express himself by ways of affection would be listening; absorbing every word you have to give and then offering up the information he’s collected later to show that he does hang onto your every word. he does so subtly, remembering things that you mentioned favoring seemingly offhandedly but in reality he wants you to feel as seen as you make him feel. someone give him a kind smile right now

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

shino’s so quick to throw around the, “I’m not sure I have any friends,” card when kiba inuzuka literally exists— the audacity of this man. team 8? the bond the three of them have outdoes friendship. the loyalty. the camaraderie. the attitude. i get whiplash from their personalities interacting, and i love every minute of it. the bluntness of shino can come across as rude disposition, however it all comes a place of well intent. he speaks his mind, and he speaks the truth. all of it. having shino aburame as a friend would mean you could easily find calm grounds to stand upon. he’d offer words of harsh wisdom, whether you ask for them or not. he sees the best in people even behind his quiet demeanor, and has loyalty oozing out of him. good boy, 10/10 wanna be his best friend.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

can i be self-indulgent for .6 seconds: imagine how w a r m shino is. it had to be said.

anyways, aburame clan: not particularly touchy. we talked about this. however there would come times where shino would hold your hand. it was a practice you initiated, and he quickly caught onto. when you walk through the forest together, he’ll send his bugs out to take a quick peek around before interlocking your fingers silently. he’ll be nervous the first time, but eventually is confident enough to make the move without any plaguing hesitation.

I could go on and on about hand holding because I’m a simple girl, but we gotta get to the goods.

cuddling? with shino aburame? a prize that I want to win. you. bug boy. sitting side by side, chatting about slice of life oddities— you put your head on his shoulder. okay little baddie, we see you: he very carefully presses his head onto the top of yours. shoulder to shoulder, his cheek resting in your hair. you never stop talking about your day, and he never stops you. it feels so natural and easy. c o z y. I’m soft.

you don’t spoon, you want to see his face when he lights up with facts about entomology. when you reach that state in your relationship, you lay side by side and play with his fingers, or he draws lazy patterns on your wrist.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he’d love to settle down wtf. he’d want to keep a romantic partner close, but even platonically— shino’s in it for the long haul.

he may be bug boy, but he’s also a clean boy. right? like okay his hair may be a bit unkept, and his room is definitely littered with sketches of insects and books here and there. but they’re organized in a way that makes sense to him. he can immediately find whatever he needs whenever he needs it, and that doesn’t make him unclean. when it comes to his insects, he keeps them tucked away with precision. each is labeled and jarred away probably alphabetically, idk, that just feels right to me.

cooking is something that can be accomplished in theory. a recipe can be read and executed, but that’s as far as it goes with shino. don’t expect much creative flare, the aburames are known bug enthusiasts, not ramen curators. the most spontaneity you can hope for is perhaps a pinch of salt on your eggs in the morning. if it’s not in the recipe, it’s not happening. he’s a boy of many talents, cooking is barely one of them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

i don’t even wanna entertain shino breaking my heart—

good thing he’s breaking yours

shino wouldn’t let a platonic relationship go far enough into a romantic status unless he was without a doubt that you were someone he could trust and hold close to his person. honestly I’d say you’d have to be the one to break up with him if you managed to get far enough in. but if he had to break up with you? he’d have the briefest moment of hurt before setting it out all on the table. once his mind is made up, it’s over. he’s not one to dance around the point. you probably won’t even have to ask why. he’ll tell you without prompting.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

oh shino has no problem committing his life to you, after you’ve been together for a very long time that is. marriage isn’t the forthcoming thought pressing into his conscious. it’d be something you had to mention in passing to him to let him know you were interested. to shino, he recognizes your relationship as it is: a relationship. your partners for better or worse, he doesn’t think a marriage certificate has any true significance in the way you share feelings for one another.

but you’d like a wedding? okay, no qualms. he’d want to wait a few years, and the atmosphere of the village would to have to fair calm, but he wouldn’t mind a small ceremony. when he tilts your head back and kisses you to seal the deal, kiba faints.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

sorry I was just checking the time, seems to me like it’s, “soft boy hours.”

I want you to know right now that shino aburame hangs onto every word you say with such fervor, it’s just darling okay? emotionally, when you’ve established that you plan on playing an active role in his life, he’s so doting. asks you short and simple questions about your day. offers advice on your woes. let’s you interact with his bugs— because he trusts you. and you better offer him the same love and respect back. I have this whole thing about him receiving cheek kisses. he eats that shit up okay, but silently with a blush crawling up his neck and wrapping around his ears. pinky holding— hullo. that’s the gentlest thing homies can do.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

maybe he hugs you first. that’s wild, but it keeps you on your toes. you held his hand first, yes, but that night when he accompanies you home you stand nearly toe to toe. you haven’t released hands yet, and he’s overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude to someone who has lent an ear to him with no ulterior motives other than quality time. it’s strangely second nature to him as he wraps a fast arm around your waist, crushing your held hands between your bodies. you’re taken aback, obviously, but before you can even share a proper moment in the same space he’s retreating back into his stoic persona and wishing you a good night.

shino hugs with his whole body, and my favorite version of this would be him wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your crushed into his shoulder. love it. he doesn’t hug often, cherish the ones he shares with you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

shino, ever the one to speak his mind, let’s you know he loves you immediately when it occurs to him. I’m not quite sure when this is, but you’ve been apart of his life for a long time without a doubt. you make him feel safe, seen, and he is sure he can trust you. you probably ask him a question about like the process through which butterflies migrate or whatever, I’m not clever enough to think of insect related questions, but after he gets done explaining and you’ve got this thoughtful expression on your face he just blatantly says it. it’s so matter of fact and without any doubt that you have to blink for a moment before sharing the sentiment. it’s not awkward. there’s not any fanfare or roses involved. it’s the truth, and you’re both quietly over the moon about it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

shino and jealousy don’t necessarily exist in the same realm. he’s not going to entertain someone he can’t trust, that’s just a given. and if he did have any doubt in his mind you were pursuing something romantic from another, he’d simply send one of his bugs to investigate the situation. if it proved to be true, he’d confront you on it. if he’s misunderstood the circumstances then he can admit it, but if he hasn’t then he’ll make it apparent to you very quickly he doesn’t appreciate what you’ve been doing.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

soft, goodnight.

okay so like forehead kisses, right? forehead kisses by shino>>>>

i will die on this hill, don’t test me.

shino kisses softly and with purpose, there is nothing he does without meaning. it’s a press of his lips to your forehead before leaving for a mission, it’s brushing your lips together in the moonlight, it’s pushing the pads of your fingers against his mouth when you’re upset. I’m a hopeless romantic and there’s only so many euphemism for kissing, so take what you’re given. shino isn’t experienced in tonsil surfing, so you’ll have to bear with him. it’s something that relies less on textbook skill and moreover on feeling and primal intuition, something he does have so he’s not completely clueless. like i said, forehead kisses are a go to and idk if I’ve mentioned you giving shino cheek kisses but for the love of god, please opt to. he eats that shit up, you gotta.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

kurenai herself made note of how well shino interacts with kids, and I have never known kurenai to be wrong so it’s been decided. shino? amazing with kids. the scene between him and mirai? shino giving a piggy back ride? goodnight y’all, imma clock out.

and he eventually becomes sensei badass okay, like he can handle himself amongst a child or two. as far as having his own children I think he’d do well with one. shibi and shino share the classic aburame relationship: mutual understanding and appreciation of one another’s existence, and i can see him sharing that with his own child and then some. he spent the better part of his own childhood in solitude. it was in tandem sought out and forced upon him. big boy perks. he’d want his child to not only embrace their aburame side, bugs and all— but also to feel confident and extroverted enough to branch out and make interpersonal relationships

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

imagine being a morning person. I mean shino doesn’t have to, but it couldn’t be me. shino’s up before dawn breaks, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and pressing his glasses into his nose before he even opens his eyes. rise and shine. if you’ve been sleeping beside him, he’ll cast a long look you’re way, admiring your still figure before standing and beginning his day quietly so as not to wake you. he lets you sleep as long as you wish unless you instruct otherwise. sometimes you ask him to wake you when he wakes himself. you always regret it because why the fuck is he awake, the crickets are still outside doing god knows what. he thinks the ambiance of an early morning is peaceful, and it sets his person in ease.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

can we all just take a moment to appreciate the grand outdoors and how precious it would be to have shino watching you fondly ogle at fireflies in the middle of a field. like arms crossed with a gentle smile behind his collar as you open mouth grin and point because he absolutely asks them to do something impressive just to see you in awe.

nights are spent outside staring up at the sky. in a tree? on the ground? in the park? in the middle of the woods? who cares, time with shino is time well spent.

if it’s raining then that’s tough, I guess y’all will just have to have a night in. sometimes you play shogi, and you don’t complain when he lets you win despite you showing no true skill for the game. he doesn’t mind.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

oh shino won’t reveal anything haha. well not on purpose. see I know I’ve gone on and on about shino being so attuned to you and what you have to say, but you have to show him equal attention and devotion to get a good read of him. anything personal that can be taken from him is conveyed so subtly you’ll miss it if you’re not paying attention. he’ll answer any question you ask, however if you get too personal too fast he’ll slyly avoid the question

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

not easily angered, moreover easily annoyed. while shino may not be on shikamaru’s level of strategical advances, he does have a pretty good sense of how things should be completed. it’s usually the way that benefits the most people and accomplishes the goal with as little room for error as possible. when things stray off from the how he envisioned them, I see him getting a little irritated. I think the time he’s spent with kiba has aided in this conclusion, and he isn’t as easily moved to a pissy nature as he once was, but I think the sullen nature still translates across if things fail to go his way because in his mind, it’s the most logical path.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

broken record alert: he’s a good listener. it’s both a strategic move to manipulate situations because he’s become so good at reading people, and his own unique love language. it’s the juxtaposition of words of affirmation; he shows he cares by ways of empathy and action. it’s stoic empathy, but empathy nonetheless. he remembers everything you tell him, and everything you don’t. on missions when you two are parted, his thoughts are sometimes clouded with images of the way your mouth arches when you laugh, or the soft smell of you lingering on his coat after you hugged him goodbye.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

when you let him go on and on about his insects and you seem genuinely interested. so often do people put up with shino’s knack for bugs out of politeness or to just let him fill the silence— but you ask questions. you seem intrigued with any word that falls from his lips and you’re quick to quip back with facts you’ve dug up on your own. you’re curious about what shino is so attuned with, and he is so excited to have someone to educate who wants to learn. you’ll go on small adventures to locate bugs to breed or to simply watch, and it’s at these moments when you’re both silent and poised over a poisonous beetle with a respective jar and net that he remembers fondly when you’re both parted.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

well he’s already sworn to protect the village, so initially it’s on that basis. his duty is to do whatever he can to keep the residents of the hidden leaf secure, but with you he keeps a bit more of a watchful eye available. he isn’t paranoid or overly protective, however on days his mind is uneasy, shino has no qualms sending a beatle to hover your person. it’s just a security measure, nothing to write home about.

you keep shino protected from his inner turmoils. hinata and kiba can only reassure him so much, but shino has developed the habit of writing them off. they’re just his teammates, they have to put up with him. however you have no personal ties to him really. you stick around on your own accord, and this boosts his self esteem immensely. you put his mind at ease and make note to remind him daily that the members of team eight are an excellent unit and that he needs to give kiba and hinata more credit because they both care about him as well. akamaru too, woof woof dummy. accept the love.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

shino’s not a man of many words, and when he does spit fire, it’s calculated and can come across as blunt assertion. you’ll come to put up with it, but he can come to understand he can be a bit overbearing in this aspect. so as I’ve expressed, words of affirmation aren’t his love language (though don’t put it past him to whisper sweetness into your ear when you’re both alone: that would be lovely.)

he expresses himself through gifts, awe. shino won’t present you with precious jewels or money as means of affection. no, the gifts are moreover practical. a book you had been pining after, a scarf to keep you warm in the upcoming months, things of that nature. he also collects rocks, we can collectively agree on that as a community right? he’ll share them with you, encouraging you to begin your own arsenal of rocks that entertain no one but are a sweet gesture— thanks shino.

dates are long walks when he as spare time. he doesn’t mind if they’re silent or if you fill the space with your own daily narrative. you’ll both trade useless dialogue and he likes it. it’s a sense of normalcy for him.

he doesn’t try particularly hard in any sense, but he doesn’t need to. time spent with shino is delightfully casual in both of your lives, please don’t mind it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

what if shino picks his nails, awe.

he’s a wonderful, brilliant little creature: but he has a habit of writing off people who clearly care about him. you’ve gotta take a little energy into reassuring him from time to time. he won’t outwardly mope in this mentality, but sometimes he seems a little off and it will fall on your shoulders to assist him

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

mans only lets like 3% of his face be shown for the better part of the series and then decided that a visor and top knot were gonna be his debut look in boruto, he is n o t the one to look to for fashion advice, and this is coming from someone who simps so hard for shino aburame like he’s lowkey giving kiba a run for his money at this point but like come on

as far as his s/o goes i know the prompt didn’t ask but he doesn’t mind what his s/o particularly looks like. it’s a personality game baby, let’s go

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

shino’s written as a loner, and he doesn’t particularly mind that status but a friend every now and then is never unwelcome. he deserves to be appreciated, and while he may not outwardly show that he receives the appreciation in good spirits, you can rest assured he does. having a partner would be pleasant, no doubt, and he would love having someone by his side to call a best friend (and eventual partner) however shino’s existence isn’t completely codependent on another half. he can exist on his own with just the company of his bugs with no true remorse. he does feel lonely at times, but he’s got the squad of the hidden leaf backing him up. he’ll make it through

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

blush bug boy shino = a happy bee (‘s me, I’m bee)

the headcannons where stoic blunt hardass shino is an inexperienced nervous boy eat me alive. man’s is a shinobi who has faced peril and nearly suffocates when you hold his hand for the first time? imma head out, i love it

he’s also always early to things? yes please? early is on time, on time is late, and late means call an ambulance, something super not cool has gone down

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

if you don’t like bugs, you have to evacuate the dancefloor. I’m not saying you have to be the president of the, “insects are the superior race,” committee. to enjoy something and appreciate something from a distance both can weigh evenly on a scale in this instance. if you’re a bug enthusiast, kudos. he’ll love spending time showing off his collection to you with a slightest hint of pride coloring his tone. if you’re the type of person to be afraid of insects, he can deal with that as well. most people are, and he recognizes it comes from misunderstanding. if you are willing to give the bugs a chance and overcome your phobia, you’ve won him over.

wouldn’t like an over the top ditzy person. he needs you to have some sense of self preservation and common sense. shino does not put up with tom foolery and he would make that apparent to you very quickly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

can I head cannon that he just becomes unhinged in his sleep? can we get behind that? like shino may begin the night tucked in with his hands clasped over his abdomen, but that is n o t how he finds himself in the morning. as a shinobi, he’s a light sleeper. fair play. but light sleepers toss and turn too, and I like to imagine him waking up discombobulated. face down, open pressed into his pillow, arms doing what they will, hair in disarray. magnificent. a pen drops and he wakes immediately, and is up before you can truly assess what you’ve just seen of the normally so put together aburame.

he knows he’s an active sleeper, ‘s why he gets up at 4am. that’s his business

#shino #shino aburame #shino x reader #shino headcanons #naruto headcanons #naruto #sfw #sfw alphabet #reader insert #naruto fandom #naruto shippuden

[dallaswinstonsleatherjacket]

TWO YEARS LATER

FOR: @darrys-toolbag and @naturallesbain

TAGLIST: @nonbinary-ponyboy-curtis @chaotically-cas @sh4d3s-of-c0ol @naturallesbain @darrys-toolbag @otterfire @i1-800-555-trash-1i @queen-of-the-outside @isasbaguettes @steveisjapanesefuckit (lmk if you want to be added)

The house had been quiet since everyone left. The rooms felt empty, but the silence felt too loud, and Darry had been forced to walk from room to room with the memories heavy in the air. 

Pony’s side of the room was barren. White walls, the bed was stripped clean, the small desk across from it was empty. The sketches that had been pinned above the desk had been taken down, pressed carefully in some folder Ponyboy had called a portfolio. Their parents' old suitcases had been lugged out of the hall closet, carrying Pony’s things to New York, and leaving Darry behind.

Soda’s side of the room was empty too. Empty of only him. The pictures still hung where they always did, the bed was still freshly made.

 And it hurt to think about.

The letter had come a couple of weeks before Pony left for college. Crisp, white paper folded in an even crisper envelope, had been held in Sodas trembling hand, before Darry snatched it away and read it, once, twice.

The gang stood stiffly when Soda said goodbye. It seemed as if they were sending another of them off to die. It was like Windrixville all over again, but every night Darry would wonder if another letter would come the next morning, bearing worse news.

Steve hadn't been able to stay around Tulsa with Soda gone. Skipping the second gap year he had planned to take, he packed up and headed to some college. He hadn't said where, he had barely even said goodbye.

Two-bit stayed in Tulsa, but it wasn’t much of a comfort. He was drunk every day, spending all of his time at Bucks, or the closest bar he could find. Darry hadn't seen him in a few weeks, last time he did, some girl was tangled in Twos arms, and Darry hadn't stopped to talk.

So he was left to wander around the empty house, the ghosts of memories almost moving him to tears. 

He found himself wandering into his old bedroom, the one he had shared with Soda before he had moved into his parents, and Soda moved in with Pony. It was a guest room now, or it used to be. Back when they had guests, or people who stayed over. 

Darry’s childhood still lingered, though, on the walls, on the desk, on the bear sitting on the top shelf. He reached for it, taking it down, letting the soft fur run under his fingers, remembering the day he got it. 

There was banging on the door, and Darry dropped the bear onto the end of the bed. He thought hazily that it could be the police, before he remembered that no one would come here anyway. There was no one living here except him, and he didn’t do anything wrong.

When the door opened though, to Darry’s surprise it was the police. Two officers, looking quite disgruntled and holding the shoulders of Tim Shepard, slightly drunk and grinning like a cheshire cat.

“Darrel Curtis?” One of the officers spoke, and Darry started.

“Yes, sir.” His voice sounded like he hadn't used it in years.

“Found him trying to slash some kid’s tires. He says he lives here, is that true?” They were both glaring at Darry, which he found funny, because he hadn’t done anything wrong. His hair wasn't even greased.

Darry glanced at Tim before answering. 

“Yes sir, he lives here.”

“Good.” The officer shot a look at Tim before pushing him roughly forward. “Keep him under control, would you?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Darry watched as the police officers walked down the front steps, closing the door, and watching as Tim stood before him.

“Hey, Curtis.” The words came out in a drawl, a lazy smile was sent towards Darry before he leaned against the wall.

Darry swallowed, closing his eyes for a second before responding. “Hi, Tim. What the hell was that all about?”

Tim was still leaning against the door, and he slowly, slowly pulled out a pack of Kools as if it hurt him to do so, lighting one and shoving the rest back in his pocket. 

“Didn't want Curly and Angela to see me getting dragged home.” His voice was easy, light.

Darry was glaring at the cigarette in Tim’s hand, debating whether it was worth fighting about or not. He resisted.

“Also, I wanted to visit you, see how you were, man.”

The “man” sounded so much like Dally that Darry winced a little, but he tried his best to smile at Tim.

“And you figured a police car was the easiest way to do it?”

“Free ride,” Tim laughed, and Darry did too, weakly.

“But really,” Tim said, after a drag on his cigarette. “How have you been, Dar? Everyone’s pretty much gone and moved, huh?”

Darry smiled wanly. “Yep, everyone’s gone.”

“You didn't answer my first question,” Tim said, smirking. “How are you?”

Darry sighed, sitting at the kitchen table. “I’m alright. Pony’s in college, Steve is too, Soda-” the name caught in his throat. “Soda was drafted, he's in Vietnam right now-”

Tim sucked in a breath. “Shit, I’m sorry, man-”

“It's fine.” It wasn't fine.

“And Two-bits wandering around somewhere, and Dally and Johnny-” a lump lodged itself in his throat, and he cleared it quickly. 

“Well, you know.” Darry finished, and looked down.

There was empty silence for a moment, and Darry jumped when Tim laid a hand over Darry’s, holding his gently.

“You should have dinner with us sometimes. Angel and Curly and I. You can’t tell me you're not lonely here.” Darry looked up from their intertwined fingers to meet Tim’s eyes, dark and warm.

“I’m sorry for not coming by sooner. And for not calling.” Tim spoke again, his voice was sincere now, heavy with an emotion Darry could not understand and wasn't sure he wanted to.

“Me too.” Darrys lips quirked into a small smile, still looking at Tim. “I have a telephone too, I could have called.”

“But you didn’t,” Tim said teasingly, lifting his hand from Darry’s and tracing patterns across it. “Why not?”

Darry didn’t speak, he couldn’t think straight, Tim’s fingers drawing lines across the back of his hand was certainly enough to distract him.

“Afraid I’d leave you like everyone else?” 

Darry still stayed quiet.

“I’d never leave you alone, Darrel Curtis” Tim said slowly, and Darry shuddered at the words as they hit the cool night air, Tim’s breath was warm and smelled like beer, and they were so close now that if Darry tipped his head just a little bit-

He had no more time to think it over, because Tim did it for him, connecting their lips as if they had been there, right on each other’s, millions of times before. It was quick and simple, and Darry found himself wishing it lasted longer as Tim pulled away, smirking as if he knew something Darry didn’t. 

“Hi.” Tim was still grinning.

Darry’s cheeks burned red. “Hey.” 

Silence for a moment, and then;

“Stay here? For the night? You cant walk home in the dark-”

“You don’t need to convince me, Curtis. Let me call home real quick.”

Darry watched as Tim leaned against the wall next to the phone, talking under his breath to Angela with his eyes closed. He tried to keep his blush under control when Tim opened his eyes and met Darry’s.

God, Darry loved Tim Shepard.

#tarry #starsfics #the outsiders #tim shepard #darrel curtis #the outsiders fanfic #i cant write kissing im sorry #i just-skipped it #its fine

[gyuutahoe]

The Pen and Sword - Part 3

Summary: Newly recruited to the Demon Slayer Corps, you finally meet your designated swordsmith. He may be as much of a misanthrope as others had warned, but you were nothing if not determined to bring him out of his shell.

Warnings: None

a/n: female reader, eventual smut, penpals with the feral misanthrope, both reader and Haganezuka are seventeen at the start of the story, established backstory for reader.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Marketplaces were always your weakness.

The hypnotic, dizzying flux of city life was exhilarating, and you channeled that excitement into each step you took through the beautiful, colorful, noisy market of Osaka. Had it not been for the irascible young Pillar of Flame keeping you on track, you might have wandered off and lost yourself in kimono patterns and antique teacups. Your hands were itching for a needle and thread these days.

Rengoku’s grip on your sleeve was like a leash. It reminded you of your oldest brother, so stern and resolute. “Can you walk faster?” he grumbled, tugging you along. “You’re like a bird, getting distracted by shiny things.”

A retort was on the tip of your tongue, only … something shiny did catch your eye, a multitude of tinkling glass wind chimes dangling from wooden scaffolding and beckoning you closer with their paper ends, stretching out towards you like old friends as the wind rattled their clappers.

“Rengoku-san, will this market still be here after we find the demon?”

He looked at you as though you were a pesky child. “You win a few fights and you already think the world waits for you? We have another assignment after this.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you lightly said, and the corner of your mouth quirked upward. “I thought I saw a pretty comb that Ruka might really like. It had a fox painted on it.” You blinked up at him. “Did you know that’s her favorite animal?”

Rengoku eyed you for a moment before turning away with a guarded expression. “Is it now …” he trailed off.

You smiled in victory and looked behind you, catching a fleeting glimpse of the wind chimes as your sword rested comfortably at your hip.

———————❖———————

Haganezuka was at a loss.

A package rested inconspicuously on his table as he knelt before it, examining it from all directions until curiosity finally won him over and urged him to pluck off the accompanying letter attached to the wrapping.

He did not request a shipment of supplies recently, and the box was far too small to be a customer’s blade. And when he saw your name written on the sealed letter, with penmanship far more beautiful than he had ever seen before, Haganezuka was still baffled. You said you would write to him, not send him anything. Were these the remnants of your sword? Did you stuff the broken pieces into a small box like some ungrateful heathen? The mere thought of it made his pulse race, and before he could calm himself, he was tearing the wrapping to shreds.

A wind chime.

His clawed hands paused immediately upon seeing the fragile glass, and his ire diffused instantly as he carefully brought it out to hold in his hands.

The glass had the barest hint of green tint pressed into it. Very different from his collection. Even the flowers were different, some sort of outrageous white shape he had never seen before. Haganezuka dangled the wind chime by its string to hear its sound - light, high-pitched, and quick. Not quite like the lower melody of his bells, but it pleased him all the same. It was a new sound to admire and focus on, with just the right amount of bite to its song to grab his attention. He played with the bell for a minute, swaying it to and fro as he listened. The sound did not calm him so much as it invigorated him. Like it had something important to say and demanded his audience.

He hadn’t received a gift so thoughtful in a long time. Why did you send him this?

The letter.

Haganezuka-san, I hope you do not mind me sending you a package so suddenly. I came across a marketplace where a glass blower sold handcrafted wind chimes, and I thought of you instantly. The flowers are sagisō. They mean ‘my thoughts will follow you into your dreams’. It is my way of hoping my good wishes reach you. Please accept this gift as thanks for your beautiful blade. It has served me well so far - I have slain three demons with ease. Take care of yourself.

———————❖———————

A few days passed before you received a response. Not that you expected one to begin with, so it was a lovely surprise to come back to after a long day of training with Kuwajima.

I received your wind chime and hung it at the door of my forge. Clean your blade daily. Don’t be lazy. Safe travels.

You imagined him hesitating at the last sentence, pen hovering over the paper as he thought of an adequate send-off. It made you giggle fondly as you hid your smile behind the letter, innocently ignoring the questioning glance of your mentor.

———————❖———————

The lingering chill of spring gave way to an undeniably relaxing summer breeze, prompting Haganezuka to wander out of his forge in search of a local villager’s food cart. He did not have the patience to cook for himself. Why waste precious time when he still needed to harden the edge of his clay-encrusted sword?

And that is how the postman found him, stuffing his face with a bowl of yakisoba while he walked back to work.

He glared at the cowering man and grabbed the proffered letter. Let’s see what jackass needs another replacement , he groused to himself as he tore it open, balancing the yakisoba in the crook of his arm.

Familiar handwriting. How could he forget this penmanship befitting of an aristocrat? It could only be you.

Haganezuka-san, I felt inspired to write to you once more. It relates to a mission I recently completed. A demon lured me into the forest in hopes of blinding me with darkness. But I had the company of the full moon to light my path, and by fortuitous chance, I happened upon a grassy clearing that was illuminated by fireflies!

Haganezuka pinched the edges of the paper so tightly that the veins in his fingers threatened to burst. If this was leading to a jibe about his name, he would make you pay.

I wanted to close my eyes and listen for the demon, as I always do, but for the first time I felt inclined to rely on my sight. The fireflies really captivated me. The weight of my blade kept me focused on the task at hand, but I could not help the sudden strike of realization that occured to me as I watched the fireflies. And that thought is as follows: could it be that you were named Hotaru because the bright sparks flying out from striking a heated blade reminded your father of fireflies? The idea made me smile. I sat and watched the fireflies for a while. There is much to learn from their movements. Anyway, I drew the forest when I had some time after the battle.

He blinked and stared at the sketch. Simple yet structured. Every pen stroke held an important detail. It was not a masterpiece, but it was lovely all the same.

Heated sparks … like fireflies …

Perhaps his given name was not so embarrassing after all.

———————❖———————

Hello again! What I am about to say may seem silly, but I always dreamed of seeing the ocean, and that day has finally arrived! I cannot begin to explain the terrifying vastness of the water. Have you ever seen the ocean? Did it exhilarate and humble you like it did to me? I dared to walk barefoot along the coastline, even though it felt like I could be pulled in at any moment. The water was very cold and the salty air turned my hair into brittle kelp, but the sand felt so soft between my toes. I listened to the waves for a long time while I meditated with my sword in my lap. Ocean waves look very similar to the hamon on my blade. As per usual, I drew the landscape for you in case you have not seen the ocean.

Haganezuka treated himself to some dango as he read your letter. Later on, he would still taste the saltiness of the dango on his tongue as he folded burning steel. While he lost himself in thought during the methodical process, the wind chime at his door brought forth the memory of your light laughter. Did you laugh this freely as the water lapped at your feet? Did you taste the salty air on your tongue? Haganezuka somehow felt like he was there with you.

———————❖———————

I heard an interesting saying - the pen is mightier than the sword. Perhaps that might not resonate with you, but I wonder what you think about this phase.

———————❖———————

For the first time since the start of your one-sided correspondence, Haganezuka wrote you an actual, full-length letter. Or rather, he sent you pages upon pages of nothing other than his thoughts on how the pen was not, in fact, mightier than the sword, and that he nearly used your letter to wrap his steel wafers for smelting because it angered him so.

- dumbass would believe that bullshit. Did words allow the Edo bakufu to secure power? No, it was blood and steel. If I could meet the moron who thought of that saying, I would shove that pen right up his -

“What’s making you laugh so hard?”

You tittered as Ruka sat down beside you. “My swordsmith.” You passed the letter to your curious friend. “He has such a way with words, don’t you think?”

Seconds into reading the letter, her neutral demeanor turned into one of mild bemusement. “What a thing to send to a young woman,” Ruka drawled, handing the letter back to you.

“Not so different from Rengoku-san, though.”

She smiled fondly. “No. Not at all.” With the grace of one who hides the sudden spark of an idea, Ruka motioned you to turn around. “Let me braid your hair. The summer heat must be strangling your poor neck right now.”

You dutifully complied. Soft, gentle fingers brushed through your hair, making your scalp tingle pleasantly.

Why don’t you ever let me style your beautiful hair? Mother keeps telling me how unattentive I am with you -

“ - to me very soon.”

“I - I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” You sucked in a quick breath. “I got distracted by that pesky cicada.”

“I said Shinjuro will propose to me very soon.” Ruka weaved a ribbon through your hair as she spoke. “Perhaps at the end of summer, so that we will have time to prepare for a winter ceremony.”

“That is wonderful!” you gasped. “To think, only three months ago he was still figuring out how to give you that fox comb. You know I walked in on him practicing that, right?”

Her melodic laugh was infectious. “And then he handed it to me as though he were a general barking a command at his soldier,” she reminisced, carefully moving the finished braid over your shoulder. “That blush was as fierce as the red in his hair.”

“He tries his best, doesn’t he?” you snickered, and upon feeling her soft touch lingering on your shoulder blade, your smile dulled a little.

“Does the wound still hurt?” Ruka asked. “With the humidity - “

“Please don’t worry,” you hastily replied, angling yourself to the side until the touch fell away. “It’s been months, Ruka. The wound is fully healed.” She cocked a brow at you, and you placed a hand over hers as you softened your voice. “Really. I’m alright.”

She eyed you silently. “ … if you say so.”

You offered a placating smile to seal the deal. “So, how did you find out about the inevitable proposal?”

“Between Shinjuro’s loud mouth and the gossip that goes on among the Demon Slayers, it was inevitable that the old women of the safehouses would hear about this.” She shook her head. “My own grandmother ruined the surprise.”

“At least you can look forward to how painfully awkward Rengoku-san will be when the time comes.”

Ruka scoffed. “I am always prepared to handle that silly man.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you giggled. “Your stern looks trip him up sometimes. So cruel!”

Not even your newly acquired lightning-fast reflexes could dodge Ruka’s smack upside your head.

———————❖———————

Warm greetings, Haganezuka-san. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I will be visiting your village in four days. Would you mind looking over my blade to make sure it is in proper condition?

———————❖———————

You can come.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #haganezuka hotaru #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #haganezuka/reader

[shackermanwrites]

Lifetime

Summary: When everything’s falling apart in your life, and you don’t know what to do anymore, maybe asking the universe for something isn’t a bad idea after all. In which Sol Reader finds herself in another reality after begging the universe for something. Everything is going well not until she was put into Levi’s squad.

Chapter 5 -> Chapter 6

Lifetime Masterlist

Before the sun even starts to set in the sky, you were already wide-awake staring at the wood ceiling above you. You barely got any sleep since you basically stared at the same concrete last night for hours. Rest just doesn’t like you, does it?

You slowly pull yourself up from your bed. Rather than wasting the time that you have in your hand you decided to start your day early. You fish through your closet to grab a pair of uniform and essentials you need before heading outside to take a quick shower. The shared bathroom for girls is not that far from your room, so you took your time to walk and gently kick some small rocks along the way.

As you walk outside the building, you can’t help but appreciate and smile as the cold wind hugs your body. It's already October that is why it is often chilly, especially early in the morning and at night.

You went inside the bathroom and entered a cubicle to shower. It was hard at first to contain yourself as your skin made contact with the cold water that almost made you scream as you shiver.

You took your precious time to clean yourself that the sun was already set when you exited the bathroom. There are also some people now on the grounds carrying woods, sweeping the leaves the fell on the ground, basically starting the day.

The peaceful scene beside you as you walk kept you company for a while that you didn’t noticed that a person was running towards behind you.

“Sol!” you turn your head to see Jean running towards you. He is holding some clothes and towels and his essentials.

You stopped walking to let him catch up. Both of you are wearing your uniforms except for your jackets.

“Morning Jean you're up early?”

“Morning, fucking Eren kicked me while he’s asleep that’s why I woke up earlier than usual.”

“Well, so much for having a roommate. Good thing I don’t have one.” You cheekily smiled at him as the two of you slowly stroll.

-

Your body fell in your bed while you let your jacket cover your face. You just realized that it’s still too damn early to even do things. You still have two hours before training starts.

Lazy as you feel, you manage to pull yourself up and marched your way outside your room to wake Mikasa up before meeting up with jean since both of you decided to go the market rather than spending the time in the dining hall to eat breakfast.

You like buying and looking at things that will catch your attention, while Jean just likes to stroll around the town area. That is why spending your time in town is equivalent to your hangouts. Back in the orphanage, there were not many people in there since it is located in a secluded area that is why you always visit the town if you had the chance. A thirty-minute ride from the headquarters is nothing compared to a four-hour ride from the orphanage.

“Mikasa, are you decent? I'm coming in.” You knocked on the door before opening it. You saw Mikasa adjusting the strap in her thighs while sitting on the side of her bed.

“Hey, good morning. Jean and I are going to town to look at some things in the market. Wanna join us?”

“Ah, I wish, but I have to go to the library. I need to return some books.” She replied while dusting off her jacket.

“Oh, that’s fine, ill see you in training later.” Mikasa smiled at you while she waves her hand as you exit her room.

People never really liked Mikasa in your training days, they are intimidated by her, and you can't deny that so were you. She was and still is seen with a book in her hand. The moment both of you had a first conversation always brings a smile to your face.

It was the day when you saw a book lying around the bench after your morning training. You thought that someone abandoned their book there, but you still waited for half an hour for its owner to retrieve it, but no one came. You brought the book to your dorm and read a couple of chapters. The book was so good and catchy to you, so you sketch on the book's first page. Later that night, you read it while eating dinner at the dining hall and that was when Mikasa approached you, saying that it was her book. She ended up liking the sketch you made on her book when she saw it and after that, she always sat with you.

“Took you long enough. What did you do there make out with Mikasa?” Jean teased as soon as you approached him.

“Yeah we did actually, idiot. Let's go were wasting time I want to buy some pens.” You didn’t think twice when you grab Jean’s wrist and drag him to the stables. Both of you ran like your lives depend on it.

You can't admit that this is basically a waste of time. Instead of sleeping and eating breakfast, you choose to stroll around the market to pass the time. You can't help it, in your trainee days you were basically worked up, there was no time to even breathe, you were waking up at 4 am and trained the whole day like a mad man until 6 pm and after that, you need to do specific tasks given to each person. The job can be cleaning stables even in the dark, cleaning the dining hall, lighting up torches around the headquarters, and even arranging rifles and guns to the storage room.

It was exhausting.

Both of you ride along with the cold wind that softly kisses your face and strands of hair. You glanced at Jean and it was the same with him. His eye is strictly glued to the road.

-

“Damn it Jean, just grab anything that you like, and I’ll pay for it, dumbass.” You muttered while you put bread in a paper bag provided to you.

“You sure? How much money do you have right now? I’ll pay you back when we get our pay, I promise Sol.” He didn’t even hide the apologetic tone from his voice while he eyes the bread and pastries in front of him while he rubs the back of his neck.

Both of you grew up in the orphanage, so Jean grew up without anything but luckily for you, your aunt has money and it is more than enough. She left you tons of money even when you were still a child, not that you can buy something from it back then, but she said that it could help you start when you grow up.

And here you are buying unnecessary things.

“Yeah, pay me by kissing Eren.” You replied as you wait for him to finish picking whatever pastries he likes.

“Please don’t joke like that next time.” He scrunches his nose, feeling disgusted by your remarks.

“Oh shoot, let's buy something for Mikasa too. She went to the library so she won't be eating breakfast too.” You quickly grabbed another paper bag and grabbed some bread and some sweet pastries for Mikasa since it is her likings.

You don’t know, but you suddenly thought of Captain Levi at the back of your head. It's not like a bad thing to get bread for him but you also consider that he is now your Captain and it would be weird if the three of you are eating some nicely baked slices of bread and he is just there watching the three of you devour it.

You stared at the foods in front of you as you carefully choose what you should get for him.

“You could never go wrong with cheese bread.” You mumbled under your breath.

-

You arrived back at the headquarters 10 minutes before the call time. You don’t need to stop by your room since you only bought food and a couple of pens.

On the other hand, Jean needed to went to his room back since he bought hair gels and a jacket that needed to be put away before training, so here you are silently sitting on the bench in front of your Captain’s office.

Absentmindedly, you gently swing your feet on the ground kicking small rocks.

“Reader.”

You straightened your back and stood up from your seat to face Levi. You didn’t even notice that he’s here. You didn’t hear any footsteps.

“Captain Levi, Good morning I'm sorry if I was sitting here.”

You carefully pick up the paper bags sitting on the bench while looking around to find other bars.

“Well idiot, they are here for a reason. Follow me, we will have a short meeting before training.” He tilts his head to the side, signaling for you to follow him.

You obediently followed him, staying behind him while hugging the bags in your chest.

Heart beating really fast as you were nervous about the training. You heard rumors that the Captain can be very rough when it comes to training since being in his squad only requires two training a week so it is acceptable that he will make the most out of it.

Both of you stopped at the familiar office you were in yesterday. The same smell and atmosphere of the room greeted you as soon as Levi opens the door for you.

You softly smiled at him before entering his office.

Instead of sitting in front of his desk, he ordered for you to sit on the couch before disappearing from your sight.

The office is quite spacious. There’s his office desk with two chairs in front of it, a couch with a small glass table, there are also two doors which you don’t know where it leads.

Not long before Levi came back with several papers in his right hand and pens on his left hand.

“Where are the others?” He put the pens and papers on the table and sat beside you, which caught you off guard.

You're not uncomfortable, just nervous especially being around him.

“Mikasa is running errands, but she’ll be back any minute now, sir and Jean went back to his room to drop his uh well hair supplies.” you didn’t know how to put the last words you said, so it made your tone of voice awkward.

You didn’t hear any reply from the Captain so you shift your gaze to the bags sitting on your thighs.

It's probably the best time to give it to him.

“Sir-“ you start before looking at him.

He was sitting casually on the couch, arms folded in his chest and lazily looking directly in front before turning his head to meet your eyes.

“Well, Jean and I went to town earlier, and we bought some foods for ourselves and for Mikasa so I also got you this.”

You handed him the bag, but he only exchanged his gaze to you and the bag you're holding.

‘I knew this was a bad idea.’ You scolded yourself in your head.

“It's cheese bread. This is good, especially in the morni-“ you didn’t finish your sentence when he cut you off.

“Why?” he softly asked you.

“What do you mean why? Its food captain.” Maybe it was a bad idea to also get him something since he can see it as an unprofessional act but being generous to things you can afford is something you should do.

His eyes did not leave yours for a couple of seconds before he slowly took the bag from you.

“You don’t have to, don’t do it next time, brat.” He rolled his eyes at you before peaking into the bag.

Levi felt uneasy and new to the feeling of being included in something. He grew up providing things he needed for himself without anyone’s help. That is why a small gesture, especially from a person he’s not closed with made him sentimental.

He didn’t have to say how thankful he was for that small gesture since you already figured it out while looking at his eyes.

Soon, Jean and Mikasa arrived at his office. You gave the bag to Mikasa as soon as she sat beside you on your right side while Jean sat beside Mikasa.

“Brats, take a paper and a pen in front of you and write your name and some shit, just write a sentence, anything.” He ordered to the three of you.

Jean was the first to get his hand on the papers and pen so he passed it to Mikasa and you being the last one to have a piece.

The three of you leaned forward to the table to start writing that is assigned to you.

‘Sol Reader, headquarters, I wish I could paint again, trees, flower.’

The three of you handed it to your Captain, and he immediately inspects it.

“You call this writing Kirstein? Unbelievable, even my horse can write better than you.” He hissed at him, causing Jean to lower his head in embarrassment.

It was only between yours and Mikasa’s paper. He holds the paper with each hand exchanging glances between it.

“Kirstein and Ackerman, go to the training grounds and don’t stop until I say so. Reader, stay here I need to talk to you.” He said in a casual tone.

You stayed seated while they gave him a salute before exiting the room.

“I don’t normally do this, but I figured that I have no choice. You have the best handwriting among the three of you and I needed an assistant when doing paper works and running errands. I hope you're okay with that?”

It's fine for you. You would have gladly and wholeheartedly accepted the task given to you.

But his voice, he was challenging you. With the tone of his voice and the way he narrows his eyes while looking at you, you are confident that he thinks that you cannot do it.

‘Motherfucker’

“I’ll even start today.” You hardly replied to him.

“Who said that you would start tomorrow?” Levi stood up from the seat and marched over to his desk, grabbing a shit ton of pile of papers.

“Deliver this to Hange’s office and make sure to do it quickly.” He stated as he placed the pile of papers in front of you.

‘Easy, I’ll show you that I can do this.’ You thought to yourself before starting to run errands.

-

You can’t do this anymore.

You placed your hands on your knees while you try to catch your breath.

The stock office is on the fifth floor of the building, and you are currently walking down the stairs after retrieving the papers Levi wants you to get yet your sore feet and calves are preventing you from doing so.

It is now 5 in the afternoon and you have been running errands the whole day now without a break.

You thought that you were only bringing papers for a couple of persons but no. You probably met all of the people in headquarters since you have been running all day delivering papers from Levi and getting papers for him.

‘Get this paper, deliver this paper, retrieve this, retrieve that, request for this request for that.’ It was the only words that came out of the Captain’s mouth the whole day.

You didn’t have the time to eat and drink, and you're so close to forgetting how to breathe.

You put your thoughts aside and pushed your body to walk down the stairs as you try to ignore the pain you're feeling throughout your whole body.

Maybe it was a bad idea to agree but thinking about it now, you also didn’t want to rat out Mikasa into this.

As soon as you reached Levi’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on his door before entering.

“Took you long enough for that one, do you min-“

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. You were already tired and just wanted to get this done.

“Can you just give me all the papers and I will deliver them in one go? Please just give them to me and I will make sure that it will get to them before the sun sets.”

Levi noticed the softness in your voice, not to mention how exhausted you look right now. He was surprised that you were not quitting despite running all day carrying piles of papers.

This doesn’t usually happen every day, he just wanted to test your patience and it is a surprise to him that you're now mad at him for bossing you around.

“I was about to ask if you mind having tea with me, sit.” He ordered while pointing to the chair in front of his desk.

You were taken aback by the words that came out of his mouth. You dragged your feet towards his desk and sat on the chair obediently.

You watched him pour tea on a clean white teacup with a gold lining on top of it.

“You're don’t for today. I'm honestly impressed that you manage to stand still.” There was no hint of mocking on his voice.

“I can manage more running but not just like this, sir. I need breaks too. I'll do better next time.”

You might have thought that you said something wrong by the sudden change of Levi’s facial expression. If your guess was correct, he was confused for a moment.

And you are right.

“You're unpredictable, Reader.” He shakes his head slightly as he places the teacup in front of you.

“I'll take that as a compliment sir, but I can assure you I feel the same about you.”

Carefully picking up the cup, you smelled at a hint of the fresh and bitter scent of the tea. You gently blow on it to cool it down a bit before sipping on it. The taste of bitterness welcomes your thirsty tastebuds.

“You can go back to your room after that. I'm calling it a day.” Levi grabbed another pile of papers from the floor and he immediately read the first paper while holding a pen in his right hand.

You watched him as he concentrates while he reads the paper and how his eyebrows are gently furrowed and how he absentmindedly plays with the pen on his hand by rolling it with his index finger and thumb.

“I bet I could already make a building with how much paperwork you have.” Those words left your mouth without thinking of it.

You cover your mouth as you look at him.

“I'm sorry sir, it's just you have lots of that, and it looks exhausting.” You shrugged your shoulders before drinking your tea again.

“Tch, that is why you're here, brat.”

You don’t know why but those words made you smile like a kid who just got their first toy. The feeling of being needed consumes you, and it makes you happy.

“Well then, I will do my best. Thank you for the tea captain.” You gently placed the cup near his and gave him a salute before exiting his office with contentment feeling in your heart.

#levi ackerman #levi fic #levi fanfiction #levi #levi one shot #levi ackerman x reader #levi aot #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #captain levi #levi angst #angst #hurt comfort #shingeki no kyoujin levi #shingeki no kyojin

[abbacchiosbelt]

here, it’s 3 AM and i’m feeling wild so have a 10k word unfinished fic. key word is UNFINISHED, so don’t go in expecting a proofread work. some things will literally just say ‘ADD MORE’, lmao, but i thought i’d share this because i did put a lot of work into it, i just don’t think i’ll ever finish it...

it’s Goro Akechi / F!Reader. rated M for violence, some sexual content, and unhealthy relationships. i have not finished P5R and it wasn’t even out when i was playing this, so... yeah. with that in hand, enjoy i guess

Cancelled WIP [Goro Akechi x F! Reader ] 10k words, not proofed and not complete.

A familiar and delicious aroma filled the air as you entered Café Leblanc. Ren nodded at you from behind the counter as you walked in, hastily working to whip up several different blends of coffee. It was a lazy Sunday morning, and the ex-Phantom Thieves had decided to have a chill day, as Ryuji affectionately called it. An opportunity to spend time together was rare. Even if it just meant relaxing, being together would be worth it.

Ryuji and Futaba were already there. Futaba was tucked away in her usual corner, typing away at her laptop. She gave you a short wave from behind the screen. Evidently Ryuji had spent the night, still clad in a pair of pajamas while he flipped through a manga. He lifted his hand for a high-five as you took a seat next to him at the counter, which you gladly obliged. Morgana popped his head up from the seat next to you and stretched. You reached a hand over and gave him a chin scratch, eliciting a purr from him.

Between purrs, he spoke. “This still doesn’t mean I’m a cat.” “Yeah, yeah…” you replied, giving him one final pat. Morgana seemed satisfied and curled back up, keeping his head titled towards the door. “Morning.” Ren said, sliding a cup of coffee in front of you. You closed your eyes for a moment and leaned your head down, taking in the aroma. Perfection. You took a sip and grinned. “This is perfect. As always.” You took another sip of the perfectly iced coffee, which was sweet with a slight hint of bitterness. Just how you liked it. “You and Ryuji are the only ones who take it iced, so I’m glad I could perfect it.” Ren said. “Of course you could. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you make it better than Sojiro.” You winked in response and Akira chuckled. “Plus, you like us the best.” Ren laughed again before moving back down the counter to continue working on making coffee for the rest of your friends. Yusuke arrived next, a sketch book tucked neatly underneath his arm. He sat at the end of the counter and surveyed the scene for a moment.  

“Ryuji,” he stated, opening up his sketchbook. “Don’t move. You don’t move either.” Yusuke said, pointing at you. You pointed at yourself, looking confused.

“I’d like to get a sketch of all of you today.” Yusuke replied, eyes already flitting back and forth between the sketchbook and the scene in front of him. “Hm, looks like I’ll have Morgana too. Ren will have to be later…” His voice trailed off and you could tell he was already in his own world. There was nothing else to do, so you intended to stay still for Yusuke’s sake.

A moment later Haru and Makoto arrived, arms linked together. They looked happy. They were the first of the Phantom Thieves to pair off, though you had noticed their glances and subtle hints of affection before they would admit to it.  You had seen the same actions between Ryuji and Ren, though they were much more coy about it.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Ann bursting through the door shortly after, arms stacked full of all sorts of sweet tweets.

“Can I get some help?” Ann cried out as a box of sweets wobbled on top of the stack. You jumped out of your seat to help, eliciting a loud groan from Yusuke and a snicker from Ren and Ryuji in the corner. You helped Ann set the sweets down and she gave you a quick hug before heading to the end of the counter to sit with Makoto and Haru.

“Sorry, Yusuke…” You mumbled, and he waved his hand in the air.

“No matter, I can start a new one. Would you care to sit there again?” He said, flipping to a new page. You nodded in response, ready to head back over before the door chimed again. You felt your heart jump. Akechi was invited today, of course, but he often showed up late. He looked nervous as he walked in the door. There was a noticeable silence before Ren finally broke it.

“Glad you’re here, Akechi.” Ren said, nodding towards him. The rest of the group greeted him as well, and you could see the tension drop from his shoulders. Akechi’s face lit up when he saw you, his stride quick as he made his way to greet you. Out of sight of the others, he lightly grazed your hand. You smiled at the affection.

“Sorry again Yusuke, but I think we’re going to sit in a booth for now.” You said sheepishly, feeling guilty about stopping his progress again.

“That’s quite all right. I think I’ve got a new idea anyways.” Yusuke replied, not taking his eyes of his sketchbook. You could tell he wasn’t angry, but you still felt bad. Akechi’s light touch on your hand again brought you out of your thought. You picked the booth closest to the stairs to sit together, Ren and Ryuji not far from the two of you. Ren gave you a curious look when he noticed Akechi was sitting on the same side of the booth as you, your face flushing. He had always known about the two of you. He was too observant sometimes.

You turned your focus away from Ren’s gaze and towards Akechi.

“I’m glad you decided to come today.” You said, smiling at him. He smiled in return, and you felt his hand lightly graze your thigh. Much to your surprise, he kept it there, fingers light against your leg. You were no stranger to affection from him, but he was usually reserved in the presence of others.

“I’m glad as well. I wanted to talk to you about something later…” Akechi said, his face turned towards you. It often seemed like he was in his own world. “Privately. But we can spend time here now, of course.”

“Sure.” You said, glancing over at Ren again. He had returned to making coffee for everyone, but you saw him give you a smirk. You stuck your tongue out at him and you saw him laugh as he turned away. You turned your attention back to Akechi, who hadn’t said anything more.

Akechi’s fingers began to tap out a rhythmic pattern on your leg under the table. Akechi was more nervous than usual today. You reached your hand beneath the table and wrapped your hand around his, giving it a light squeeze. He seemed to visibly relax next to you.

Sometimes you wished that he was more open with his affection. Before his change of heart, he had been possessive, desperate for your affection and attention. Akechi was careful now, treating you as if you were a precious treasure that could break any moment. Still, he made his affection known. A knowing glance. A whisper so quiet you could barely hear it. His fingers ghosting across your back. They were moments you cherished. Moments that you wanted, needed, more of. Stripped away from his charismatic persona was someone who was hesitant but wished so deeply to be loved. To be needed. The past few months with him had been wonderful, but things hadn’t always been easy.

[ It had been months since the Phantom Thieves had succeeded in their goal of saving the hearts of the public. To most, you were just a regular college student traveling the world. To those closest to you, you were an ex member of the Phantom Thieves. After stumbling your way (happily) into the group, your life had changed.

Goro Akechi was one of those changes. You had found something special with him – a bond so deep that you found it impossible to live without him. A bond so deep that even his betrayal against you and your friends hadn’t been able to split you apart. A bond so deep that he couldn’t swallow his betrayal, leaving him to break away from the bonds of his old life to return to you. And yet, the bond was frayed now, in desperate need of repair.

That’s how you ended up back at your apartment, Akechi standing nervously in your doorway after stopping you on your way back from class. It was a bit intimate, your bedroom and living room being the same area. It wasn’t new to you two – but it felt as if he was afraid to cross that boundary now. Your communication had been limited since the disbandment. You were afraid of being broken again, and he was terrified to lose you.  

Akechi eventually came in and settled at one of the seats on your kitchen island. You noticed he was tapping his fingers on the counter.

“I have a question for you.” Akechi finally stated. You plopped down on one of the chairs in your living room, giving him a pointed look. “A question?” You repeated. He nodded before continuing.

“Do you trust me?” Akechi said, eye contact unbreaking. He was intense, as always.

You didn’t want to lie. It’s not that you didn’t want to trust him… but he had attempted to betray all of you before his heart got the better of him. It wasn’t a simple thing to forgive. He carried sins on his back that he would spend his whole life atoning for. And yet, if Haru had managed to forgive him for ruining her father’s life, the rest of the thieves knew they should try too. Your feelings for him made it even harder. You knew better than anyone not to give it away yet.

“No.”

He let out a sigh in response, pushing his hand through his hair. “I suspected as much.”

It wasn’t easy to reject him like this. The moments you had shared, still tender in your mind. The way he smiled at you. The way he looked at you with such adoration. The way he had broken your heart. The moments you had shared together bonded you for life. Akechi’s reveal, and subsequent change of heart made you wary. You weren’t sure how to begin trusting him again. And yet, you still loved him so deeply that you couldn’t imagine life without him.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m incapable.” You said. Akechi looked surprised. “Of trusting you, I mean.”

He didn’t say anything in response, choosing to look down at his hands instead. His fingers were still tapping.

“Let’s start over.” You got up as you spoke and crossed the short distance, stepping in front of him. You put your hand out. “Nice to meet you, Goro Akechi.”

He looked startled. You watched him hesitate, unsure of whether he should touch you. He paused for another moment before reaching his hand out and grasping yours. You had missed his touch, and by the look on his face, he had missed yours as well.  

“Nice to meet you too.” He said quietly, letting go of your hand. You smiled.

It was a start. ]

“Goro,” You said softly, squeezing his hand again. “Are you okay?”

He paused before responding, his thumb brushing against your hand while he thought. “I am... I’m just troubled by my thoughts today.”

You squeezed his hand again. Akechi often had unwelcome thoughts, as you had quickly learned. He was conditioned to be that way – to automatically assume the worst. To assume that no one loved him or cared for him.

“I love you, Goro.” You said, leaning into him. He relaxed into your side and placed a chaste kiss on your head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked.

“Ah, I’m okay. Besides,” Akechi said, giving you a small smile. “We’re here to enjoy ourselves, hm?”

“If you’re sure.” You replied, smiling back at him. It was hard to get him to open up. He was guarded – your questions always deflected easily with his signature smile. When you had learned the truth from the mouth of the cognitive Akechi, you understood why he hidden himself away. When the two of you had begun your relationship, officially this time, he finally let his walls down.  

[ The first time you went on a date with Akechi, you made a trip to Odaiba Seaside Park. It had been raining on and off, so you figured it’d be a quiet day. With the events of the past still fresh, you wanted to keep things simple.

Akechi had always seemed different with you. His voice was soft and sweet, free of anxieties. When he was with you, he took off the mask. It was a subtle change, but one you’d begun to pick up on. Before, he had hidden so much from you, his secrets and pain pulling him away from life. Now was a chance for both of you to start over, to experience each other as a whole.  

The day had started off pleasant – a peaceful walk down the boardwalk with plenty of conversation. You could tell he was feeling at ease, and you were too.

As the sun began to go down, you and Akechi had decided to grab a bite to eat. The only stand still open was serving ice cream, which delighted you. After grabbing your cones, you made your way back down the boardwalk, hoping to find somewhere to sit. Akechi had started another conversation while you walked.

“Are you enjoying it?” He said, smiling at you.

“It’s delicious!” You replied, grinning at him.

Before you could ask him the same, a loud voice interrupted you.

“Oi, aren’t you that shitty detective?”

You looked up to see a group of people, now leering in your and Akechi’s direction. You looked to Akechi, his face still unchanged, but hand gripping his ice cream cone harder.

“Yes. Can I help you with something?” Akechi replied, his voice sharp. It was a stark contrast from his voice with you.

“We’re just wondering why you think it’s okay to show your face around here.” One of the young women in the group said, stepping closer to the two of you. “You’re real fucked up!”

You reached out to grip Akechi’s hand, tugging it gently. He didn’t move.

One of the men piped up next. “Yeah, and now you’ve tricked this dumb little bitch too! She must be real stupid to be with you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about her.” Akechi said, breaking free of your hand and taking a step forward. His face was contorted, eyes angry.

The group laughed, and Akechi tensed. Another member of the group spoke up. “What are you gonna do, little boy detective? You don’t know how to do anything!”

You watched Akechi��s hand ball into a fist. You took another step towards him, and glared at the group.

“Just leave. Please.” You said, trying to be polite, though you wanted to scream at them. You had hoped it would make them go away faster.

One of the women laughed. “Oooh, can’t even defend himself, he’s got his little girlfriend to stand up for him instead!”

“Why don’t you come with us, baby? We’re a lot of fun!” One of the men said. You could feel Akechi shaking now, trying to control his anger. You didn’t know what to do.

“L-let’s just leave, Goro.” You said, tugging at his shirt. He hesitated before he turned back to you, his face still laced with anger. The group leered and chanted at you, but thankfully they didn’t follow as you walked further down the boardwalk.

Akechi was silent as you walked, and you weren’t sure quite what to say either. You found a more secluded area and led him to it, turning to face him.

“Goro? Are you okay?” You said.

Akechi’s hands were shaking. “You think I’m weak. A coward.”

He kept his eyes downcast, nor daring to look at you.

“That’s not true.”

“But I couldn’t even say anything.” He replied, still looking away from you. “I’ve ruined things. This whole day.”

“Goro, please. It’s okay. Talk to me.” You said. He was still looking away.

You took a step towards him and he looked up at you, his eyes watery. “I failed you. Again. And I’m going to keep failing you, and you’ll leave like all the rest, and I’ll be miserable just like I deserve.”

“Goro…” You said softly. “Can I hug you?”

He paused for a moment. In times like these, he was usually berated or screamed at, told that he was better off not being in this world. But you had changed things for him, responding to his bursts of emotion with kindness and care.

He nodded, and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was taller than you, but you felt him crumple in your touch, his face buried in your neck. You felt him shaking in your touch, his hands gripping the back of your shirt tightly.

“Shh… It’s okay.” You said. You were glad no one seemed to be around. The intimacy of this moment was something to be cherished. “You have me, Goro. I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard a sob choke out of him, muffled by your shoulder. He was still shaking. You led him to bench behind you.

“Let’s sit down for a minute, okay?” You said quietly. He nodded, and the two of you made your way to the bench and sat down. Akechi had been hesitant to touch you, afraid to let himself feel comfort.

“We could… We could still be close to each other?” Akechi said, sounding very unsure. You weren’t even sure if he asked a question. “If that’s okay…”

“Of course.” You replied, scooting next to him. His body was still shaking. You felt him slowly put his arm out, hesitating to wrap it around you. You looked up to find him studying your face. His eyes were still puffy, but the tears had stopped. “Do you want to talk more?”

He wrapped his arm around you. His touch was still light, but it made you happy. “Not right now. It’s just… you just look very nice right now. You’re just calming to look at.”

It was your turn to blush. You laid your head on his shoulder and heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Ah, I’m sorry Goro, I did that without thinking.” You said, quickly lifting your head. He was still looking at you.

“No, please… It felt nice.” Akechi said. “It’s just… I’ve missed you. So much.”

You laid your head back down and felt him squeeze his arm around you tighter. He leaned his head down towards yours.

“I don’t want to lose you again.” He said, lips lightly brushing your forehead. “Let’s stay like this. Just for a bit.”

You stayed there for an hour, bodies comfortably pressed together, silent. You didn’t have to use words to know that the both of you were making up for lost time. ]

Since that day at the park, you had made an effort to always communicate with him. To really understand how he was feeling, and to help him as best as you could. You couldn’t fix a person. No, that wasn’t possible. But you were doing your best to help guide Akechi through life now, encouraging him to seek help and begin healing.

“Are you okay?” Akechi said, startling you. You had been lost in your own thoughts.

“Just thinking about you.” You replied, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And how much I want to kiss you.”

Akechi’s cheeks turned pink. He still became flustered from praise and affection, having gone so long in his life without it. You delighted in making him happy.

You wanted to fluster him more, but an exclamation from Futaba interrupted you.

“It’s movie time!” She said, picking up her laptop triumphantly.

“Wait, we’re not watching it on that, are we?” Ann said. Futaba had a fancy gaming laptop, but the screen was too small for all ten of you.

“No, no, Ren has a fancy surprise upstairs for us.” Futaba replied. Ren just hummed in agreement before taking his apron off, having finished making drinks for the group. Futaba rushed ahead of you, Morgana trailing right behind her. The rest of the group followed suit, leaving you and Akechi to follow behind. Akechi reluctantly let go of your hand and got up, but extended it again to help you up.

“Why thank you, my prince.” You said, giggling and taking his hand.

“Anything for my princess.” He replied, stifling his own laugh. It was silly, but you two had found pleasure in calling each other pet names.

When you reached Ren’s room you were surprised to see the changes – twinkle lights adorned all the rafters, and what used to be an old CRT had been replaced by a large flat screen TV. There was some sort of blanket pile set up in the middle, most of your friends already sprawled out. A salt rock was letting off a gentle glow in the corner.

“Wow, Ren, this looks nice!” You said. Ren shrugged, but you saw him smile.

“He wanted to make it fancy n’ all for you guys. Both of us pitched in to buy this awesome TV!” Ryuji said, giving Ren a slap on the back. Ren just rolled his eyes, but you could tell he liked the attention. Both of them sat back down together, Ryuji’s arm slinging around Ren’s shoulder. Not so subtle anymore, you thought.

Akechi sat down near the back of the room, patting for you to sit down next to him. You had other ideas as you plopped yourself in-between his legs, resting your back on his chest. You heard him inhale sharply. He leaned his head towards you, lips brushing the top of your ear.

“In front of the others?” He said, resting his lips on your ear.

“Mm. It’s fine with me. Are you okay with it?” You said.

“Y-yes. Very much so.” He replied. You twisted around to look at him and gave him a soft smile.

“It makes me feel safe.” You said. He hummed in satisfaction, snaking his arms around your waist.

Futaba stood at the front of the room and clapped her hands. You were happy that she felt so confident now.

“Alright, it’s time for our feature film. For today’s pick, we’ll be watching ZAW 2!” Futaba said, hitting play on her laptop and scrambling to sit down.

Oh no. You weren’t exactly a fan of horror movies, especially ones with lots of blood and guts. You shifted uncomfortably, already nervous. Akechi gave you a gentle squeeze. He didn’t know about your dislike of horror movies, and now wasn’t the best time to let him know.

The beginning of the movie wasn’t even safe – the screen was immediately filled by the image of a mutilated body and the sound of a loud scream. Why the hell had Futaba picked this movie? You looked around the room, finding some eyes glued to the TV and some joining you in averting their eyes. Makoto was stress-eating some of the chocolate Ann had brought with her. You glanced up and saw Akechi was watching. You didn’t want to ruin the movie for him.

The next scenes were even worse, somehow increasingly violent. You were staring at the floor now, your heart racing. You could have tried to tolerate it if there was a plot, but it just seemed like a cheap movie for shock value. You shifted your body so you could rest some of your face on Akechi’s chest, curling as close to him as possible.

He lifted an arm from your body to reach your head, his hand gently stroking your hair.

“Not a fan?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

It was just a movie, but you felt reassured. He was always so gentle with you, his words never hiding malice behind them. He had always been gentle with you.

[ The first time you realized you and Akechi loved each other involved a grievous injury.

The Phantom Thieves had been in Mementos for most of the day, training and trying out different combinations of party members. Ren and Makoto had come up with an exhaustive list of combinations to try against different enemies, ranking them as they went.

You and Akechi had been in the party together multiple times today, both of you working together quite well. Though you tended to work well with everyone, something just clicked with him. Though the circumstances of his membership to the Phantom Thieves weren’t what you would call ideal, you and Akechi had made fast friends. He was always there to help you out, and you were always there to encourage him, inside and outside of battle.

And though you kept it hidden away from the others, you would often find yourself messaging Akechi late into the night, both of you unable to sleep. On hard days, you’d find him waiting for you after classes with your favorite drink, a dazzling smile on his face. Sometimes you’d even meet up and stroll through the darkness together, talking about whatever came to mind. You wondered if perhaps your bonding outside of battle is what made you two work so well together.

Ren had finally called for the last fight of the day, calling forth the two of you along with Ann. You were exhausted, but you knew everyone else was too. A few minutes later your party encountered a particularly tough group of enemies, Ren immediately calling out orders.

You had been hit a couple times, but not hard enough that you thought you needed healing. Akechi had insisted you heal yourself, but you reminded him of the limited rations the group had left. He reluctantly left the subject alone. The first two enemies went down thanks to Ann and Akechi. The last enemy left was enraged, its attacks suddenly hitting much harder.

“Just a little more!” Ren yelled. You watched as Akechi readied his Persona for a final attack and felt your heart jump when you saw the enemy suddenly rushing him, eyes ablaze.

“CROW!” You screamed, jumping in front of him without a second thought. You felt your body fly back, back slamming into the ground with enough force to crack it. The pain was immediate, searing and all-consuming.

Your vision was hazy, eyes heavy. You tried to move, to raise your hand, but nothing happened. You couldn’t even speak, a low groan leaving your throat instead. Pain bloomed from your chest, warm blood starting to seep from your injury. You tried to move again and your body burned, blood suddenly bursting from your mouth as you coughed.  

You heard screaming, both your teammate’s and the scream of the shadow who had been destroyed. It was getting harder to see. Someone had come to your side, hands fluttering over your body.

“Hurry! HURRY!” You recognized Akechi’s voice, now strained and desperate. Someone else was beside you now, using whatever SP they had left to cast Recarm. You felt arms under you now, lifting you from the destroyed ground and cradling you to their chest.

“Oh god, please hold on. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Akechi said from above you, voice quiet and shaky. You felt something warm hit your face and realized he was crying. Ren quickly set a plan in motion to get you to the team’s doctor quickly, your body needing extra healing after how much damage you had taken. You wanted to reach up, to assure him you’d be okay, but you were weak. You felt your body start to go limp, Akechi’s voice above you again.

“Please, please stay with us—" He was saying more, but all you felt was endless darkness.

-

You woke up, body still aching. You wondered where you were, unfamiliar sounds and smells overwhelming you. It smelled… sterile. Your eyes were still heavy, fluttering as you tried to open them. You blinked, looking down at your body covered in bandages and hooked up to an IV. You remembered the screaming, the crack of your back as you had hit the ground and the feeling of the warm blood that covered your body.

It must have been bad, you thought. None of you had ended up in the hospital yet. Your thoughts were broken by a sudden voice.

“She’s awake!” You recognized Futaba’s voice, looking over to see her and Ren sitting next to your bed.

You tried to sit up, wincing as your body rejected the movement.

“Ah, don’t hurt yourself more! We were so worried.” Futaba said, she and Ren standing from their seats to move closer to you. You heard her sniff, watching as tears ran down her face.

“We thought we lost you.” Ren said, placing his hand over yours gently. You smiled at both of them, grateful they were here.

“I’m going to let everyone know.” Futaba said, digging her phone out of her pocket. Ren was running his thumb over your hand, his eyes downcast. You didn’t have any concerns about the gesture – his feelings for Ryuji were obvious. Instead, he seemed troubled.

“I’m sorry.” Ren said, looking back up at you. “I pushed us too hard.”

You simply looked at him, too tired to speak. You didn’t blame him. You squeezed his hand in response, trying to communicate your feelings. You sighed, your body urging you to go back to sleep.  

“Rest, we’ll be here when you wake up.” His voice was reassuring, his hand still gently touching yours as you closed your eyes and drifted back off to sleep.

You were awoken this time by the sound of bickering.

“Shut up, Ryuji! You’re going to wake her up!”

“You’re going to wake her up with your loud mouth!”

“The both of you, quiet down.”

Ryuji and Ann, you thought. Morgana too. A quiet giggle left your mouth, followed by sudden silence.

You opened your eyes to find all your friends staring at you, eyes wide.

Haru spoke first, rushing to your side and grabbing your hand. “Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you!”

You smiled at her and gently squeezed her hand back. Makoto joined her, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“We’re so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was soft, not as confident as usual.

“You idiots, you woke her up!” Morgana said, hopping up on the end of your bed. You could hear him purring. “Sorry about those two.”

Ryuji and Ann ignored him, walking over to greet you. Ann reached down to hug you gently and you leaned into her embrace as best you could, happy to see them.

Ryuji looked more awkward, his hand behind his head. “Thought you bit the dust for a minute.”

“Ryuji!” Ann said, standing and smacking him on the back of the head. “Not the time.”

Ryuji grumbled, pushing Ann over to wrap you in a hug. “Oi, she knows I’m joking.”

You weakly laughed and winced slightly under Ryuji’s hug, slightly too tight. Ryuji let go and you saw Yusuke hovering at the end of your bed.

“It’s good to see you’re okay.” He rummaged through a bag for a second, pulling out a small sketchbook. “I’ve worked on some things for you to look at while you recover. I know you’ll enjoy them.”

You smiled at Yusuke’s show of affection. Ren and Futaba were still there too, both of them coming to greet you once more. You heard a soft knock at the door, everyone’s head turning at the noise. Akechi stepped into the frame, his hands clenched tightly. You thought you saw a hint of anger on some of their faces. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Could I… come in?” Akechi said, his voice hesitant.

“Of course.” You replied, your voice hoarse. It was the first time you had spoken since you had woken up. Akechi stepped in, clearing his throat before he spoke again.

“May I have a moment with her? Alone?” He said. You saw Ryuji shoot Ren a look. Ren seemed hesitant, but finally grumbled a noise of approval.

Haru and Makoto reluctantly left your bedside, Haru squeezing your hand one more time. Everyone left the room save for Ren. He turned to look at you, placing his hand on yours again.

“Are you okay with this?” He said, looking intently at you. It felt strange. Why were they acting like this?

You nodded at him and he let go. He went to leave, pausing to look at Akechi. You couldn’t see Ren’s gaze, but the look on Akechi’s face told you it wasn’t friendly. Ren looked back at you one more time before leaving, gently sliding the door shut behind him.

Akechi stared at you for a moment before walking towards the side of your bed, eyes downcast. You eyed him curiously. All of this was so strange.

“Hi.” You said, smiling. He looked up at you, the hint of a smile on his face.

“Hello.” He replied. His hand hovered over yours, unsure. You moved your hand to touch his gloved fingertips, watching as his body relaxed. He laid his hand on the bed, fingertips still carefully pressed against yours.

Akechi was staring at you now.

“Do I have something on my face?” You said, weakly laughing. He didn’t laugh.

“You… I’m… I’m so sorry.” Akechi said quietly. You looked at him and watched as a tear slid down his face.

You were confused. You had no idea what had happened, other than the memory of the pain. “Sorry? What for?”

He looked startled at your response, body stiffening, his fingertips pulling away from yours. You missed the touch already.

“You don’t… remember?” He said, giving you an incredulous look.

“Not at all.” You replied. You heard him sigh. His hand was gripping your bedsheet tightly. “What happened?”

Akechi was silent, looking into your eyes again. He looked pained. “You took a fatal hit for me.”

Oh. You remembered it vaguely now, the fear in your heart when you saw Akechi was about to be hit. You suddenly understood why your teammates had looked angry – they weren’t exactly warming up to Akechi the way you were.

“I’m sorry. I should have been doing better, it’s my fault that you’re like this—”

“Akechi.” You said, interrupting him. You pushed your hand forward, fingertips touching his again. He didn’t pull away.

“It was my choice. I made a vow to protect my teammates. My friends.” You said. You were starting to get tired again. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to form a response. He just looked at you.

“I… I should have protected you, though.” He said, another tear rolling down his face. “You are the most precious thing in this world to me.”

His face suddenly turned pink at the realization of what he had said. You felt your heart flutter.

“Akechi… You’re important to me too.” You said, smiling at him. He smiled back this time, small and unsure. “You do owe me one though.”

Akechi chuckled. You felt warmth blooming in your chest, ebbing just a bit of the pain.

“Will you stay with me while I sleep?” You said. He nodded and reached to brush a piece of your hair back. The gesture was intimate, his touch light. You closed your eyes, letting your body relax as you tried to go back to sleep.

You felt Akechi slip his hand under yours, fingers gently sliding in-between your own. His skin was warm against yours. You realized he had taken his glove off.

You felt the warmth in your chest again before falling back asleep. ]

Another chorus of screams came from the TV and you curled even tighter into him. The movie was silent for a moment before a loud gunshot came from the screen, causing both of you to jump. You felt your skin begin to prickle, the familiar feeling of anxiety rushing over your skin. It was too much. You had to get out of here. You crawled out of Akechi’s lap and quickly went down the stairs, relief washing over you when the sounds of the TV were no longer loud. You sat in the furthest booth to drown out the sounds completely.

You had never liked guns. You didn’t find them appealing the way a lot of people did, and you had winced upon seeing your teammate’s during your first excursion to the Metaverse. What had sealed the deal for your feel was coming face to face with Akechi’s shadow, and the feeling of his gun pressed harshly against your cheek.

[ You wondered if your friends were going to have to drag your broken and bloody body out of the palace. You wondered if he would be able to handle it, watching himself splatter your brains against the floor. Maybe your thoughts should have been more urgent with the barrel of a gun pressed into your cheek, but hey, no one said looking death in the face had to be rational.

It could have been worse. Akechi could have ambushed you instead of joining you. Akechi’s help had given you the heads up on the majority of Shido’s palace. You didn’t blame him for not expecting to see himself there, twisted and full of malice. Even more, you didn’t blame him for not knowing how cognizant his shadow self would be – all the love he felt for you had seemed to turn to vile hatred in the mind of the other Akechi.

You hadn’t forgiven him, of course. But when he had texted you days after the betrayal in the Casino Palace, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he could help Ren. You couldn’t ignore the sobbing on the phone when you finally picked up, his voice panicky and desperate. And so, with Akechi’s intel and willingness, the plan the Phantom Thieves had set-up went into motion with one exception – the supposed suicide of Ren was not carried out violently by Akechi. Careful planning let the idea spread in the news.

Akechi had groveled at your feet when he finally saw you in person again. It wasn’t easy to accept his help – you would have refused if Ren had rejected him. Akechi had been eager to give every detail he knew, telling the Phantom Thieves the truth about Shido and his manipulation. Thus, the infiltration of the palace had gone smoothly, until you had reached the engine room.

All of you had split up to look around for clues. Everything was normal, until you found yourself on the floor, someone’s shoe digging into your back.

“Ah, the pet.” You recognized the voice – it was Akechi’s. But it wasn’t normal, no, this voice was laced with venom. Your struggling against the floor alerted the rest of the group, horrified gasps resounding throughout the room, something close to a growl leaving Ren’s throat. A moment later you were dragged up by your hair, a hard and cold object suddenly digging into your cheek.

“I thought you would have given up this vice by now.” Cognitive Akechi said, clicking his tongue. You felt the gun dig further into your cheek.

“The fuck is this, Crow?” Ryuji yelled. You saw him take step towards Akechi, who looked horrified.

“I don’t, god, I didn’t know this would happen.” Akechi stuttered out, panic laced in his words.

The cognitive Akechi tugged on your hair harshly, hot pain flaring in your scalp. A sick laugh bubbled out of his throat, and you saw your Akechi tense.

“You know, you were just a tool for him.” The cognitive Akechi said, pulling your face up to look at his. An awful grin was plastered on his face, eyes shining bright red. “Until he got too attached.”

“That’s not true—” You heard Akechi say, the cognitive Akechi interrupting him.

“What a fool you were.” His voice was practically a hiss now as he spoke. “You did all those awful things, and for what? To give it up for this?”

He kicked you in the side, and you cried out in pain. Akechi made a loud noise of protest, and you felt the gun press into your cheek harder.

“Shido was going to get rid of this, anyways.” He said, his faced distorted in a smirk. “And you, too. You meant nothing to him.”

“That’s enough.” Ren said, his voice low and dangerous. “Let her go.”

The cognitive Akechi laughed again, pressing the gun into your cheek again. “One move, and I shoot.”

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, chest heaving from panic. You were going to die, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Oh dear, are you frightened?” He said, sneering at you. “I know. Let’s make it personal.”

The cognitive Akechi shot a devilish smile at your Akechi. “Come, then. Do it yourself.”

Akechi looked at you, eyes wide with fear. And then you looked up at your friends, some of their faces stained with tears. Makoto, though, had a look you recognized – determination. You were going to take your chance.

“Please.” You rasped out. You saw Akechi clench his hands into fists. “Please, Goro.”

“I can’t.” He said, his voice shaky. You met his eyes and gave him a hard look, glancing to Makoto next to him. You saw as he bit his lip – he understood.

“Hm, then perhaps I’ll make this drawn out?” You heard the Cognitive Akechi laugh and saw how Akechi tensed again. Akechi met your eyes, fear evident on his face. He took a slow step forward, and again, until he was within shooting range. He summoned his gun, identical to the one in the cognitive Akechi’s, and shakily lifted it, eyes meeting yours again.

The cognitive Akechi made a hum of satisfaction, lowering his gun from your face. A loud shot rang out and you saw the cognitive Akechi stumble backwards, groaning angrily. Makoto’s gun was in the air, smoke flowing from the end of it. The gamble had worked – the cognitive Akechi had been too self-assured, a trait he shared with your Akechi.

You scrambled away as fast as you could and heard another shot ring out, another horrible groan emerging from the cognitive Akechi. You turned back, looking between the two. Your Akechi’s gun was smoking, his hands shaking. The cognitive Akechi was on the floor, eyes wide and staring at you as he died.

It made you feel sick, stomach twisting in disgust as you watched the cognitive Akechi fade into black smoke, your Akechi collapsing to his knees. Your friends rushed over to you, smothering you in hugs and “Are you okays”, each of them talking over the other.

But it was Akechi you were concerned about. You silently got up and kneeled in front of him. A moment later you wrapped around him. He was sobbing, telling you again how sorry he was, how he didn’t want to be like this.

You knew he was carrying around years of pain and hurt, the sting of rejection from everyone in his life that was supposed to love him. He swallowed that bitter pill for years, poison seeping through his veins. He had to account for his own choices – you knew that. But you also knew that despite everything, he was worthy of more.

There was so much you wanted to say. Your heart was still broken – you knew this well. But in this moment, there was only one thing you could say to him.

“I love you.” ]

That day played in your head often, the memory of the cold metal against your cheek vivid and unsettling. It was only a few seconds later that you heard someone descending the steps, then a familiar voice softly calling your name. Akechi came to sit next to you in the booth, his arm wrapping around you.

“I don’t think I was enjoying that movie either.” He murmured, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Do you want to leave?”

Leaving would make you sad – but you had been unaware that today’s movie choice would bother you so much. Besides, on a lucky break, your group would be able to hang out next weekend as well. Time alone with Akechi sounded more appealing.

“Yeah. Let me just text Ren.” You replied. You sent a text saying you weren’t feeling well, but to tell the group you loved them and would see them next weekend. You heard Akechi groan when he saw Ren’s reply, which was simply a winky face emoji.

“Do you want to go on a walk before we go home?” Akechi asked, squeezing your shoulder. You nodded, and Akechi got up and repeated his actions from earlier. You exited the shop, locking the door behind you on your way out.

Akechi’s hand slipped into yours like it had a hundred times before.

Before, when you and Akechi had danced around the nature of your relationship, the idea of no one knowing what the two of you had troubled him deeply. Things were better now, as Akechi had taken the initiative to work on his unhealthy behaviors. Sometimes you’d still notice the way his jaw would clench when a stranger acted a little too friendly, or how his arm would wrap around you just a bit too tight.

[ It didn’t take you long to realize that Akechi was a little bit… possessive. You had been friends with Akechi for a couple months now – your late-night conversations now a norm, his presence besides you during fights a given. He was always checking if you were okay, and always wanted to be around you. You’d seen the slight grimace on his face when you talked to one of the boys in the group, especially if it was Ren.

You didn’t miss the way how sometimes he would say “my” before sweetly calling your name, or how he’d always take you to uncrowded areas to spend time together.  

Still, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t you enjoyed his company. You saw through him the second you met – his artificial happiness was hiding a deeply lonely person. So, for the time being, you’d brushed it off as Akechi being insecure.  

Once, Yusuke had asked you to model for an outfit he had seen in front of Akechi. By the look on his face, you’d of thought Yusuke had asked you to come over and fuck him. There was no romantic intent in Yusuke’s question – but Akechi was jealous. You accepted Yusuke’s request; you had no reason not to.

It had been a perfectly normal day with Yusuke. The outfit was an elegant, flowing white gown. Yusuke had you pull one sleeve down, exposing your shoulder. The dress hugged your hips and showed the curve of your chest, but in a way that you found sensual. It wasn’t anything you were uncomfortable with. In fact, you had felt beautiful, Yusuke’s small hums while he worked confirming that he was pleased.

During a break, you had sent a silly picture of you making a face in your group chat. Everyone had responded by saying how cute you looked, even with the silly expression. Akechi, however, had responded with something that slightly embarrassed you, a sweeping text of how you were the definition of beauty. The attention did make you feel good, even if his message had been cheesy.

You bit your lip, considering a risky move. Maybe you could send him a personal picture. Nothing too crazy – just a little more… personalized. The next picture you sent was just for him, a selfie of yourself in Yusuke’s pose. Your lips were parted, your hair wrapped delicately around your shoulders, bare skin peeking through. The picture cut off so you could see just the hint of your chest. It didn’t take long for a response.

Akechi: You look ravishing.

Akechi: But I am at work, you know. I can’t be looking at things like this, what would they think?

Akechi: Let me know when you’ll be done. I’ll pick you up. Be safe.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that you had riled him up a little. A moment later Yusuke came back, and you resumed the painting, having to fight to keep the smile off your face.  

A few hours later you messaged Akechi to let him know you finished. You and Yusuke exchanged pleasantries before you went to wait outside, still dressed in the gown. The night air felt refreshing on your skin, the beautiful stars above you making it even better.

Akechi’s familiar black car rolled up a few minutes later. Akechi came out to greet you before you even reached the door. You noticed how his eyes had hovered at your chest before meeting your eyes. He opened the car door for you like he always did, and then climbed back in himself.

“Thank you so much.” You said, turning to give him a smile.

“Always. Someone as beautiful as you can’t be walking alone at night.” He said, smiling back at you. You just rolled your eyes, blush creeping over your face. A few minutes passed in silence as he drove, your eyes almost drifting shut to the soft music playing over the radio.

“Are you okay? He didn’t do anything weird, did he?” Akechi said, making you jump. His voice sounded a little off.

“Oh no, I’m fine. Just tired.” You replied. “Yusuke was the same as always.”

Akechi nodded at your response, turning his attention back to the road. A few minutes later you pulled up to your apartment, Akechi seeming reluctant to leave. Well… maybe you could invite him in.

“Do you want to come in and have a drink?” You asked. His face brightened immediately. Once you made it inside, you turned to find Akechi giving you a strange look.

“Is something wrong?” You asked. Before you could say anything else, Akechi had gently pushed you back into the door and captured your mouth in a kiss. When you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, his tongue running along your lower lip. A small moan left your mouth, and you felt Akechi press further into you.

His hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer to him. He broke off the kiss for a moment, meeting your eyes. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He said. You recognized the lust in his, face flushed pink. His lips met your again in another fevered kiss, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. He pulled away again and you let out a whine of frustration, low chuckle coming from his throat.

“I can’t believe Yusuke had you all to himself today.” He rasped, voice low. He placed a soft kiss on your lips before continuing.

He trailed his tongue down your jawline until he reached your neck and started placing gentle kisses on it. You wrapped yours arms around him now, pushing his hips flush to yours. He pulled away again. “No one should see you like this. You’re too beautiful.” He whispered before returning to your neck. You could feel the noticeable bulge in his work pants, and you shifted yourself even closer to him. His lips pulled off for you a moment as he let out a strained moan before returning to his ministrations, lips now sucking and nipping at your skin.

He deepened his efforts, his bites making you shudder now. You knew you would have marks tomorrow. Really, you didn’t even know Akechi had it in him to do things like this.

“Goro,” You whined, and you felt his mouth leave your neck. “You’ll cover me in marks.”

He stood up and looked you into eyes, his free hand coming to rest under your chin.

“That’s the point, my dear.” He said, giving you one of those dazzling smiles. “Everyone will know that you’re mine.”

He pulled away, leaving you dazed. His words should have bothered you, but you were still in a state of bliss.

“Now,” he said, gently grabbing your hand. “I’ll get us those drinks. I’m sure you must be tired.” ]

But now, when you would remind him that you loved him and that you weren’t going to leave him, he’d apologize. You had helped him reroute his unhealthy behaviors to other outlets, reminding him that he needed to take care of himself too.

When his hand met yours now, it was a gesture of love.

ADD MORE

[ The first time you felt your heart break, it was because of him.

You didn’t want to believe it. No. NO. They were wrong. You pleaded with them, begged them. He would never do this to them. To you. Ren had put his hand on your shoulder, and told you that he was sorry, so sorry, but this is how things were. How things would have to be for the greater good. How the Phantom Thieves were going to be betrayed. You wanted to scream. But still, you held on, waiting with hope that they were wrong.

You held yourself together when you met up before the Casino infiltration. Your heart pounded when you looked at Akechi. He was acting normal, so normal that you wanted to shake him and ask him what he was doing. Was he really going to do this? Why? You jumped when you felt his hand graze your back, his voice soft.

“Don’t worry.”

You couldn’t even look at him, and he didn’t press you further. Did he know what you knew? No, of course not. He had been outsmarted, and he didn’t even know it.

Akechi had insisted on being on the team, and Ren conceded. You volunteered as well, much to Ren’s concern. Makoto had joined as well. He was right to be concerned – your fighting was off, your mind frazzled. He took you to the side and asked if you wanted to sit out for a bit, but you refused. Your nails dug into your skin as you spoke in hushed tones with Ren, pleading. Akechi gave you two a curious look.

If Akechi had wanted to say something, he didn’t. Instead, you watched as he took hit after hit for you during battle. You felt his gaze on you as you explored the palace, his hand occasionally brushing yours. Every touch felt like another dagger in your heart. How could he do this?

It didn’t take long to complete the palace. The calling card was sent as planned, and the dread in your heart felt even heavier.

The battle was tough, Akechi still taking hits for you, fighting as if it were his sworn duty to protect you. You wanted to cry.

When the treasure emerged, you allowed yourself a smidgen of hope, that maybe it wasn’t true. The group had to split, Ren giving you a knowing look as you insisted on going with Akechi. A look that told you it was true, that this was hopeless. You just grit your teeth and followed Akechi, his emotions still not betraying him.

He stopped, turning to face you. He looked sad.

“It’s true, then.” You said flatly, looking at him. His expression didn’t change.

“I’m sorry.” Akechi said, stepping close to you and wrapping his arms around you. You felt his heartbeat, quick and erratic. You wanted to scream, to hit him, but you couldn’t. You just stepped away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Why?” Your voice was hoarse, your eyes now on the verge of tears.

He was silent for a moment. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Of course.” Your heart was pounding now, every muscle in your body telling you to run.

“If you come with me, I can still protect you.” He said, his voice sounding weak now.

“Never.” You replied. You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. You loved him, you hated him. “You lied to us. To me.”

“I—” He started, but you interrupted him.

“No. No.” You were crying now, starting to fall apart. “Fuck. Was everything a lie?”

He tried to step towards you again, but you pushed back against him. He winced at your rejection.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you couldn’t bear to hear it.

“Just stop. STOP.” You cried out. You turned to leave and felt his hand grab your wrist, his grip tight.

“Please.” He said, his voice cracking. “Don’t leave.”

You turned to look at him, his hand still tight on your wrist. You looked at him, anger coursing through your veins. You loved him. You hated him. You couldn’t say anything.

“I need you.” He pleaded, trying to pull you closer. You dug your heels in, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Only I can protect you.”

“You already failed, Goro.” You hissed at him, his hand finally releasing your wrist. You looked at him one last time before turning and running, his desperate shouts echoing behind you.

It didn’t matter anymore. ]

ADD A LOT MORE OOPS SKIPPING A BUNCH BUT I HAD AN IDEA FOR THE LAST PART

“Is this okay?” He murmured, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. His lips were close to your ear, breath tickling your ear lobe. You nodded, but Akechi didn’t move yet. “Please, tell me what you want.”

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your ear. Devious bastard.

“Goro, please… t-touch me.” You said, voice wavering. He made a hum of satisfaction in response, his fingers dipping under your shirt now and hand running gently over your chest. Your breath hitched in your throat as he maneuvered his other hand under, his soft hands running freely over you now. His fingertips played with the edge of your bra.

“Do you want me to keep going?” He said. You nodded again. He didn’t press you for an answer this time as his hands slid underneath your bra, giving you an experimental squeeze. His fingers brushed across your nipples, thumb lingering over them. You felt him shift underneath you.

“Could I take this off?” He said, lips against your neck now. You felt safe like this, his body surrounding you.

“Yes.” You replied. His hands left your bra and moved to take off your shirt, gently pulling it over your head and placing it neatly to the side. He brushed your hair to one side, placing a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Ah, you’re wearing my favorite.” He said, pressing another kiss to your neck. “It’s almost a shame to take it off.”

“add more” You replied, twisting in his lap to face him. He was watching you with rapt attention as you moved your hands behind your back, unhooking your bra. You slowly slid it off, placing it on top of your shirt. He was speechless for a moment, taking time to watch your chest rise and fall.

“add more” You said, smirking at him. You turned back around, pressing your back against him again. He was warm against your back.

“You’re stunning.” He said, hands wandering back up your exposed body to caress you. There was no pretense with him in private. He said what he meant. For this, you appreciated him. He gently grabbed both your breasts again, fingers taking the time to play with your nipples. A squeak came out of you as he rolled your right nipple between his fingers, testing. You pressed your back into him, his hardness even more evident now.

“Do you like this?” He said, voice low. His other hand began to play with your left nipple, shiver jumping through your spine. You moaned quietly in response, and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes, hm?”

#misc.txt #wip #persona 5 #violence cw #not sfw #goro akechi #UNFINISHED

[thelittlebirdthattoldyou]

Stella!!!! For the song fic thing!! Can you maybe Do Bokuaka with Willow by Taylor Swift? Thank youuu -Angi aka Lazy Boohead #2 but Kuroo

hey angi! ty for giving me an excuse to write something with this song i love it sm ❤️❤️

willow - akaashi keiji/bokuto koutarou

wc: 821

-

Bokuto re-enters Akaashi’s life in a whirlwind of energy, breezing through the glass doors of the book store Akaashi likes to frequent to do his work. “‘Kaashi!” he shouts, smiling wide, and Akaashi jumps in his seat. He drops the stack of papers he’s holding; they scatter in the air and drift uselessly to the ground like autumn leaves.

He ignores them, though, and stands to face the man he hasn’t seen in - has it been a year already? Bokuto doesn’t look any different compared to how Akaashi remembers him from high school. His hair is neater, maybe, but his eyes are still bright gold and his laughter is just as infectious.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greets. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

When Bokuto graduated, he stopped by Fukurodani every so often to visit his old team, and he and Akaashi kept up with each other. But then Akaashi left as well, and Bokuto’s pro training regimen left him little free time, and the meetings declined into phone calls and then Happy Birthday and Happy New Year texts a couple times a year.

“Yeah, well.” Bokuto scratches his head sheepishly. “I know you and Kenma keep in touch, so I asked Kuroo to ask him about you, and here I am. Surprise?”

Akaashi smiles; Bokuto has always had that effect on him. “Well, you surprised me,” he says. “I was actually just working on -“ He gestures behind himself at the manga panels he was sketching, halting when he realizes that they’re lying in a disorganized pile on the floor.

“Oh!” Bokuto seems to only just notice the mess he’d caused. “Whoops, sorry, let me just -“ He’s quick to drop to the ground, reaching for the loose sheets and shuffling them into a messy stack.

Akaashi kneels as well, gathering the remaining papers. Briefly, he cringes at Bokuto’s disregard for the proper order of the drawings, but then he decides that it doesn’t matter. Bokuto hums to himself as he cleans, off-key, and it’s endearing enough to make Akaashi’s heart ache. He would let Bokuto throw every part of his life out of orbit if it meant Akaashi got to stay by his side.

“Here you go,” Bokuto says, holding out the stack of paper. He cocks his head, offering Akaashi a familiar, unabashed smile.

Akaashi hadn’t realized how much he missed him. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.” He grabs the papers, but Bokuto doesn’t let go of them, and Akaashi doesn’t try to pull them out of his grasp.

Something in Bokuto’s expression shifts, becomes curious. Awed, almost, as he studies Akaashi’s face. “You look good, ‘Kaashi,” he says. “You got glasses?”

Instinctively, Akaashi reaches up to push the glasses up his nose, a tad self-conscious. “I did. I’ve needed them for a while, actually.” He hesitates. “And you look good, too. It’s like you’re a real pro athlete now,” he teases.

Bokuto puffs his chest out. “I totally am,” he says. “I came here to tell you - I got scouted by a Division 1 team. I start with them next season - how cool is that?”

He’s practically vibrating with excitement, a paragon of kinetic energy. “That’s great,” Akaashi says. “You deserve it.”

He starts to take the papers and get to his feet, but Bokuto stops him. “Wait,” he says, and he sounds nervous. “I was wondering if you - will you come to see my first game? When I play?”

Akaashi blinks. Something warm blossoms in his chest. “Of course I’ll come.”

Bokuto lights up. “Awesome! I’ll definitely play my best because you’re there.”

Amused, Akaashi shakes his head. “You always play your best.” It’s one of the things Akaashi loves about him.

“Nuh uh,” Bokuto says. “It’s different with you. You’re my setter, you know?”

“Oh.”

A lump rises in his throat. He clears it. “Yeah,” Akaashi says. “I guess I am.”

Bokuto is unusually quiet. Akaashi watches him, thoughts racing. Bokuto has always felt like some sort of trophy, out of reach, but maybe it’s time that Akaashi got over himself and made the first move. Maybe they could stay like this forever.

“I should’ve told you this in high school,” Akaashi says, “but I think I’m in love with you.”

Bokuto grows impossibly brighter, smile so genuine it's like looking into the sun. “I know,” he says. “Well - I thought I knew, but you were so beautiful and smart that I always figured maybe I was just seeing things, but… I love you too, of course. A lot.”

Akaashi bursts into laughter. “Excellent confession, Bokuto-san,” he says.

“Yeah?” Bokuto grins. “Do I get a kiss for that?”

The stack of drawings falls to the ground for the second time, and Akaashi takes Bokuto’s hands, pulling him closer. They have their first kiss kneeling on the hard tile floor of an old book store, and Akaashi knows that this is the man he’d follow to the ends of the earth.

#bokuaka #haikyuu!! #bokuto koutarou x akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji x bokuto koutarou #haikyuu #bokuaka fluff #bokuaka drabble #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu fic #haikyuu ships #haikyuu character x character #songfic request event #my writing

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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

Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old  friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

 It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.   

 My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough. 

  “oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.” 

 A flying toenail hit my eye. 

 “WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.  

 “Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

 “oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!” 

 “IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back. 

 I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

 I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle. 

 “All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

 “You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.” 

 “Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.” 

 I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.” 

 “Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?” 

 This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did. 

 After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t. 

 And he didn’t. 

 And therein lay the problem. 

 It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

 “Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.” 

 “Ew, he smells like meat.” 

 “RENNY!!” 

 “I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

 “He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.” 

 She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window. 

 “Hey Renny?” 

 “Hm.” 

 A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?” 

 “Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

 “Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.” 

 “Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.   

 “Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?” 

 Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first. 

 “I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.” 

 “Oh.” 

 “It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

 “The divorce or your virginity.” 

 “Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.” 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis. 

 “I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more. 

 Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?” 

 Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him. 

 “Maybeeee…?” 

 But then there was last night. 

 I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves? 

 “No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.” 

 Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.” 

 “Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this. 

 Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly. 

 But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him? 

 You were right, Harry. You are fucked. 

 I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh. 

 I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

 Renny was right.

 I needed therapy. 

 The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

 “Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?” 

 DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please. 

 I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

 “NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

 “Fine. I can keep a secret.” 

 I was getting a little too good at that lately.

 She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious. 

 “Yeah, more than you know.” 

 And I was serious, too. 

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

 I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs. 

 Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery.  . 

 “Woah did you hear that?” 

 Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.” 

 It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

 The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next. 

 A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did. 

 “It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts. 

 “How’d you know that?” 

 She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance. 

 I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick. 

 Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away. 

 My hand wavered. 

 Odd. 

 Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors. 

 I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over. 

 “Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”   

 Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

 Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

 She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster. 

 “I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

 Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

 I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.” 

 Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too. 

 “Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed. 

 We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from. 

 “Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment. 

 My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?” 

 “Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-” 

 “My God,” David proclaimed. 

 Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

 It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.” 

 “Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass. 

 Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

 “Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased. 

 He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.” 

 We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

 Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left. 

 “Look closer.” 

 My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang. 

 “Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin. 

 The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot. 

 “Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

 “Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.” 

 “How so?” 

 “Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.” 

 He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside. 

 He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles. 

 “They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said. 

 A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.” 

 “Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.” 

 “Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

 His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him. 

 I felt him come closer. 

“Listen now,” he urged. 

 I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder. 

 “Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.” 

 I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed. 

 “Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?” 

 I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous. 

 “What do you hear?” he urged. 

 “I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped. 

But right when I was about to open my eyes-  

 I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter. 

 “Birds?” I opened my eyes. 

 “Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself. 

 “Why are there birds?” 

 “We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

 Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half. 

 My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.” 

 “All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes. 

 “Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow. 

 I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second. 

 I was naked. 

 In all of them. 

 One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.  

 Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet. 

 The wine had dropped.

 I’d dropped it. 

 I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb. 

 “Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked. 

 I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe. 

 He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

 The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees. 

 Because that’s what it was. 

 An exposure. 

 A stranger could pay to have me in their home. 

 The floor spun, vision spotting. 

 My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly. 

 “I didn’t want this.” 

 And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home. 

part 22

#fratboy! harry #fratboy!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #zayn blurb #harry styles one shot #zayn preference #zayn one shot #zayn imagine #harry styles #one direction #1direction #one direction imagine #one direction one shot #one direction preferences #harry styles preference #harry styles blurb #zayn fluff #zayn malik one shot #harry styles fluff #onedirection #zayn malik #zayn #niall horan #smut #fluff #harry imagine #harry one shot #harry blurb

[rosyrosethings]

Power goes out while assistant Y/n is home alone

This a series link to masterlist. Let me know if you wanna be on the tag list

The sound of the thunder and lightning did always bother Y/n. But tonight she wasn’t fazed by it. She had in her headphones and all the lights in her room were on she was currently watching Disney plus on her Laptop. Her laptop and her phone were on low battery but she was too lazy to get her charger from downstairs.

The rain continued. Y/n continued to distract herself until there was a big boom causing her to jump up and sit up straight then everything went dark. The power went out. In this million-dollar home. He doesn’t have a freaking generator? He’s a fucking millionaire. She said to herself. But she thought it was okay. She still had her laptop. So she tried to continue to watch the movie. That’s when her computer died and went blank. She bit her lip and grabbed her phone.

Maybe she should call Harry.

But he was out with Bridget. But she was scared and her phone at 25%.

Maybe she should try to sleep but she took a nap earlier today. She was wide awake.

Maybe she should call Chris. She thought but Chris is also with someone else.

That’s when her phone started to ring. It was from Harry.

“Hello?”

“Y/n I just wanted to make sure you were okay. The power went out because of the storm. Luckily Bridget has a generator.”

“Yea and you don’t.”

“I know maybe I should get one.”

“Yes! You should!” She exclaimed followed by a big boom of thunder. She screamed in the phone.

“Are you scared?” He asked she didn’t reply.

“Y/n are you scared?” He asked again.

“Yes.” He sighed in response

“I’m on my way.”

”Harry you don't ha-.” the line disconnect. Y/n sighed.

Harry got up from the bed naked looking over the floor for his boxers. As soon as he found his briefs. He quickly put them followed by his other clothes. Bridget walked into her room naked. Carrying a tray of hot chocolate and cookies.

“Where are you going?” She said disappointedly.

“I’m going back home the power went out and Y/n is there by herself.”

“Oh,” she said sadly they didn't finish sending time with each other tho. She thought to herself. Harry heard the sadness in her voice.

“I’m sorry babe, I promise you I will stay the night one day. Just can’t tonight.” She nodded, why can’t he stay? Isn’t Y/n an adult woman. They’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now. Doesn’t he like me? Bridget thought to herself. But Harry didn’t like to leave Y/n at home by herself. He always loved coming home to her seeing her on the couch doing paperwork or watching tv with a blanket wrapped around her drinking tea. He wanted her to feel safe at his home not scared.

Harry gave Bridget a quick kiss on the lips.

“Don’t pout babe. I’d make it up to you as soon as possible.” He said as he kissed her nose. Before heading out the door.

//

Harry arrived home the house still dark. He walked upstairs and his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” he answered seeing it was Y/n calling

“I just wanted to make sure that was you coming in the house and not someone coming to murder me.” He laughed at her and opened her room door disconnecting the call. He saw she lit a few of her candles all over the room. He sitting on her bed with a sketchbook a pencil.

“Harry I’m so happy you’re back.” She said with a smile. He walked into the room and sat on the foot of the bed

“Harry I’m so sorry. You didn’t have to come all the way home for me.”

“Ehh I don’t mind I wanted to come home anyways. Bridget morning coffee kinda sucks.” He said as he crawled next to her and laid his head on her pillow while she sat up against her headboard.

“So how are things going with here?” She asked as she continued to sketch in her sketchbook.

“They’re going okay, seems like things are getting serious.”

“Hmm, they must be you’re over there 24.7.”

“How do you know I’m over there? I could be ya partying.” She laughed in response.

“Harry I’m your assistant that lives with you. I know you like the back of my hand, and you partying? Yeah right.” He laughed,

“Well, Bridget and I are going to a party her friend is hosting at his home. How about you come?”

“Umm, I don’t know. Being around a bunch of rich people and my boss.”

“C’mon Y/n you’re always in this house. Or either working. You never go out.”

“Fine, on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You have to sing to me right now.” He gave her a weird look. She put her sketchbook on the nightstand and laid her head next to both of them looking into each other's eyes the candlelight lighting the room.

”I hear you sing in the shower. So sing Mr. Styles.” she as she tapped his nose.

”fine but you promise to come?”

”swear on my heart.” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and opened his eyes looking at her.

”Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Oh, shall I stay, would it be a sin

Oh, if I can't help falling in love with you?…” his voice was beautiful as he sang. Y/n's heart was melting as he sang the most beautiful lyrics while staring at her.

”I can't help falling in love with you.” he said once more but this time his hand on top of her. There head a bit closer than before. Y/n felt like he was talking to her. Harry's singing became slower and slower as they looked at each other.

Loud clicking was heard followed by all the lights turning back on. Harry and Y/n sat up straight immediately.

”Umm well since the power is on. I’m gonna go to my room.” he said while scratching his head.

“Yeah okay.” Both of them awkwardly replying. Neither didn’t know what to do. Harry got off the bed and started to head out the door.

“Thank you.” She said quickly. Before he exited. He smiled.

“No problem, anything you need love.”

@stfxlou

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sunlight (Bucky Barnes x OFC)

I wrote this for @geekandbooknerd​ birthday challenge! Yay! I know its a bit early but happy birthday! 

My prompt was “If there is anything, there is us. You and me. No one else.”- Jennifer L. Armentrout, Onyx. 

It kind of turned into a Avengers/X-Men crossover. So some mentions of X-Men characters but mostly about Bucky & OFC. 

Warnings: slight angst, brief mention of torture, all the fluff! 

Words: 3400

"WHERE IS SHE?!" Bucky stormed up to his best friend, leaving terrified SHIELD agents in his wake. He did not care about the scene he was making in the hallway of the Avengers Compound. His fear and fury overrode his concern to stay calm.

 "She ran off. Soon as we touched down, I tri…."

 Bucky turned on his heels, ready to sprint. He had to find her. He could listen to excuses and rational later. His mind and body drove him towards only one thing- to seek her out and offer comfort...until a hand clasped his shoulder, keeping him still. 

 "I'm sorry, Buck. We thought...I thought…" Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. He still wore his dirty uniform, not even having had a chance to clean up from the mission yet. "Things didn't go as planned. She did well. She...she was a help to have on the mission. Please let her know that."

 The brunet could only nod, every cell in his being screaming at him to go find his girl. Soon as Steve removed his hand, Bucky took off. 

 People practically leapt out of his way...which was smart on their account. He was not above running people over right now. He was used to his friends teasing him about his murder strut- their term, not his- about how it made people either run in fear of their lives or hyperventilate with lust. He tried to not think about it too much. Although it did have its uses on occasion. 

 Bursting out the nearest outside door, he ran using all his super soldier speed. He knew where she would be. More than one time she had called it a safe place, especially when it was sunny out. The buildings for the Avengers Compound flew by him. He vaguely thought he heard someone call his name but it did not matter. He had to get to his girl. 

 The first hints of autumn could be seen in the trees surrounding the Compound. Most were still green but swatches of color peeked through with their yellows and oranges. The underbrush made each step he took in his combat boots sound like a herd of elephants walked by but now he did not have to focus on moving silently. He wore tactical pants and a black t-shirt, having been working on extra security measures for the Avengers building when Steve called him. Immediately he dropped the StarkPad and ran, ignoring those he had been working with. 

 He passed the giant elm tree that always seemed otherworldly to him...then he could see her. He always wondered what made this spot special. There was nothing unique about it in the forest surrounding the Compound...except for a giant ass boulder. Deciduous trees surrounded the spot, creating an almost nature-made barricade around the small open area with the boulder in the middle. Sunlight shown directly on it, uninterrupted by branches or leaves. It almost looked like the eye of a hurricane, and maybe that was why she always came to this spot. It was peaceful. 

 And there she sat looking like a fairy from a children's story, minus the wings. Her Nordic blonde hair danced about her in the slight breeze, the long stands almost hypnotic in their movements. Her face was turned upward, facing the afternoon sun, like a flower seeking its warmth. Her slender arms were wrapped around her legs, her alabaster skin on full display with her bare feet, black leggings and navy tank top. She must have ditched the outer part of her uniform and ran, not even bothering to go back to her room to change first. 

 Standing just on the edge of the tree line, he could only stare, taken back by her beauty once again. He wished he was artistic like Steve to paint or sketch her. That he could somehow show her how gorgeous she was to him, to erase all those self-doubts she harbored still. Instead he strove to remind her every day in whatever way he could. 

 "Leyna!" He called out, having moved out of the trees into the open area surrounding the boulder. 

 She turned her head briefly to meet his eyes then turned her face back upward, soaking in the sunlight. 

 That quick look had been enough for him to see the dried tear streaks on her cheeks. He clambered up the rock, continuously amazed at how she was able to navigate the damn thing when she was so small. He was almost a foot taller than her and the stupid rock was tricky for him between the lack of handholds, lichen and moss that covered it. It was at least twice as tall as him, and three times as wide in some strange skinny oval shape. It vaguely reminded him of the kind of stones that were good for skipping rocks on top of water, but on a giant scale. 

 Once up, he walked towards where she sat in the middle, feeling the heat of the sun hitting him anew. Without a word, he sat behind her, placing himself so her back was to his chest, his legs outstretched and his flesh arm wrapped around her waist. Silently she leaned back into him, still facing the sun, eyes closed. He laid his cheek against the top of her head, his metal arm outstretched to stabilize them. 

 The only sounds were those of the birds singing around them, the occasional shout coming from the direction of the Compound and their own breathing. It was peaceful. Something both of them craved instinctively. 

 He waited for her, knowing this was more than just a quiet place to be. There was her place to "recharge", as she liked to call it, both physically and mentally. After several minutes, a faint golden shimmer surrounded her hands. Slowly she held out one of her hands and moved her fingers as if in a dance. 

 Watching her use her powers was one of his favorite things to do. She tried to explain it to him once, how her powers worked. Something how she could manipulate light photons and atoms to change their structure to become whatever she wished, either a solid creation or an illusion. It was about three PhD degrees above his head but he got the gist. He smiled remembering when she first met Bruce Banner and how the man almost wet himself, he was so excited to run experiments and lab tests on her and her powers. Bucky had never seen the man so thrilled. Then the time she met Loki and he learned she could do illusions also. He had jumped at the chance of a competition between them that left the Compound in a strange golden, greenish haze for two days because of the amount of magic used and atoms/photons messed with for the insane amount of illusions created. 

 Using both hands, she twirled and manipulated them in front of her, using the direct sunlight to create something. Sunlight was her life source. Yes, she needed to eat and drink like anyone else but she always joked she was like a solar-powered being. Without sunlight her powers faded to nothing and she would wither away. 

 His eyes remained glued to her hands as she worked, curious as to what she was making now. With a final flourish, a long dagger lay across her palms, dwarfing her hands. The handle was the deepest black while the blade itself had a slight curve and shone a brilliant silver in the sunlight. It had a slight etching on the silver that looked like artistic flames running along the outside. 

 "That one might be my new favorite." He nuzzled her neck, thoroughly enjoying the way she squirmed and giggled. He loved when she made him shiny, sharp things. 

 "Maybe I'll make you a matching set."

 He took the dagger from her, eyeing it hungrily before slipping it into his boot. Good thing the training room was open at all hours. He planned on experimenting with it later. 

 They sat in silence for a few more minutes before she spoke, drawing lazy circles on his arm still around her waist. 

 "Steve call you?"

 "He was worried." He kissed her hair lightly. "Wanna talk about it?"

 He could feel her hesitation then the story was whispered into the wind, her voice shaky. "There was a cell...I got separated from the others...Some...um, a few HYDRA soldiers managed to taze me, get me down...they covered my eyes...and got a chain on my wrist…" She took a deep breath, he squeezed her, knowing how hard this was for her. "Steve found me at that point, he took them out and helped me get away."

 "Oh baby, I'm so sorry." It was only after she mentioned her wrist, he peeked over her shoulder to see her right wrist that looked raw and red. Seeing her injury, he clenched his metal fist. Fury rolled through him like a steam train, anger at both HYDRA for trying to take her from him and himself for not being there to protect her. He pulled her closer to him with both arms, needing the reassurance she was still here, with him. 

 "I don't think I can do this anymore, Bucky." She suddenly choked out, tears falling afresh. "I don't...I can't go through that again. I'm not strong enough."

 "Leyna…we all have our triggers that remind us of our pasts. No one blames you."

 "I put the mission in danger."

 "Steve said you did well and that you were a help."

 She shook her head. "I don't think I can keep doing this."

 They sat in silence. He understood what was going through her mind. Hell, he dealt with it himself on a regular basis. The question of how much of one's past could still haunt their future. 

 Leyna had been found by the X-Men when they took down a cult who were kidnapping mutants. She had been chained to a wall in complete darkness, refused any source of sunlight or artificial light for months on end until she either gave them the information they wanted or she died. The X-Men had brought her back to the mutant school where she stayed to recover, since when they found her, she was barely conscious. When Charles examined her mind, he discovered she was not a mutant but an enhanced like Wanda Maximoff, though where she got her powers was unknown. Just over two years after being rescued and residing at the mutant school, Charles thought sending her to the Avengers would be the best for her and to begin creating a working relationship between the Avengers and the X-Men. Leyna was to be a sort of liaison between the two groups constantly saving the world. 

 It had been a year since she joined the Avengers and everyone acknowledged how quickly she fit it. Almost like she had been a missing puzzle piece that they had not realized was missing. 

 "Do...do you think they'll send me back? To Charles? He sent me here to help but…" Her voice dropped off, fear and uncertainty evident. 

 "I am sure the Professor would understand. And there are more ways than one to help. You don't have to be out in the field to be useful. I know I prefer when you don't go on missions. Sam had to sit on me this time so I wouldn't stow away on the ship and come with you."

 She giggled, her head resting on his shoulder. "I feel the same way when you leave for a mission. Wanda and I used to get drunk but after the...electrical incident, we're not allowed to anymore."

 He chuckled, "so that's what happened, huh? You guys said you tried to combine your powers or something."

 "Remember, we were drunk and apparently decided we wanted to have a dance party. So, I tried to create a disco ball and stroke lights while she was trying to do something with the music...but it all backfired."

 He openly laughed at that. "Doll, the two of you managed to blow out all the electricity in the Compound and even put FRIDAY offline for a bit. Tony was furious. Hell, I heard Wanda's room had to be completely renovated because of the power surge that went through it. Thankfully it had reinforced, special walls or whatever Tony calls them."

 "Why do you think she's been sleeping in Vision's room?"

 "That was...what, three months ago? And it's still not fixed?"

 She shrugged. "She doesn't feel rushed to return to her own room. "

 They lapsed back into silence, his arms still around her. Her face was still upturned, soaking in the afternoon sun. He watched her profile, in awe that someone as pure, selfless and fun would ever look at him twice. As he stared, he could see her lips pursing slightly while her brow furrowed. It broke his heart that she still struggled with such self-doubt. 

 "Leyna, turn around." At her hesitation, he ran his lips softly over the corner of her jaw. "Please."

 Slowly, she did. Turning around to straddle his waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck while his own hands gripped her hips to hold her. 

 "Look at me."

 It was only after his quiet command that she finally lifted her gaze from his chest. Her violet eyes always enthralled him, calling to some deep primitive part that wanted to bask in her light for the rest of his life. 

 "We're not gonna kick you out if you come off the field. Hell, you are one of our best at recon and observation. If that's all you want to do, the others will understand. Natasha will probably buy you a bottle of that Russian vodka that she loves cause she won't be the only one sent on those kinds of missions anymore. And even if that is too much, you have a great mind for tactics and seeing things others don't. You would be a benefit for working in the control room while we're on a mission. You'd have our backs still and could keep an eye out for things we might miss."

 "Charles sent me to help…" She hedged but he was having none of that. He gripped her chin, holding her gaze, hoping she would believe him and stay. Not just for the Avengers...but for him. 

 "And you would be. You've always been a huge help… Or would you prefer to go back to the School? Is that what you would prefer? I'm sure Logan would prefer that. He still hasn't forgiven me for having you be my girl."

 "He hasn't tried to kill you though."

 "What do you call what happened last time he came to check on you?" He demanded, eyeing her smirk. "Just a misunderstanding?"

 She laughed, massaging the back of his neck. "He only destroyed the couch. It could have been far worse."

 "Yeah, and I had been sitting on that couch! His claws were inches from my head!" 

 "Mmm...good thing you have such great reflexes." She leaned forward and pressed a teasing kiss to his lips. 

 His hands tightened on her hips. "Babydoll, you do that again and I'll show you what other great reflexes I have."

 "Outside?"

 "What? Ain't nobody around?"

 She swatted his chest, laughing before laying her head on his shoulder. "And if I just wanted to be with you? Not do anything...just be here with you?"

 "If there is anything, there is us. You and me. No one else." He lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes, the sunlight making them glow. "We can do whatever we want. Go wherever we want. Just us."

 "Mmm...and Steve." She hummed, tracing a finger lazily on his chest. 

 "What?"

 "You and me...and Steve. There is no way Steve would let us go off alone. He would miss his best friend too much and is too stubborn to let you go. He'd leave the Avengers first. Then Sam would be all offended and come along too since he and Steve are also best friends and I think secretly you and Sam are best friends but neither wants to acknowledge it. Natasha would hunt us down next. You know Peter would send us more of those little videos but they would be all sad and puppy eyes since wherever we are, I'm sure his Aunt May would not let him come. Plus, he's like the little brother I've always wanted… If Natasha finds us, Clint will show up eventually. Then Scott would too since Steve is with us. I swear I've never seen a bigger fangirl than Scott. Tony would crash at some point because well, it's Tony…"

 He cut her off, chuckling because however much he wanted to deny it. It was true. "Ok ok, I get the picture. Christ. I think we need some new friends."

 "Like Logan?"

 "I still can't believe you dated the Wolverine. I feel I should question your taste in men."

 "Hey! It was short lived and we both realized we were better as friends. Sides, if we're worried about my taste in men, what does that say about you?" She teased, a smile on her lips. 

 "You go for the tall, dark and handsome." 

 "That applies to Logan too...mmm...maybe I just prefer old guys?"

 "Alright, that's it!" He stood up, throwing her over his shoulder. "I come out here to take care of my best girl and what do I get...insults!" Carefully he jumped down to the ground, making sure not to jostle her too much with the impact. He started back towards the Compound, trying to control the smile on his face while listening to Leyna laughing over his shoulder. "See if I share my ice cream with you tonight."

 "Bucky…" she whined, wiggling against him, "that's mean."

 "Old guys...you've been spending too much time with Sam. Really need to get some new friends." He muttered mostly to himself. 

 "Put me down, Bucky."

 He set her on a nearby stump so she was actually eye level to him. Carefully he ran a hand through her blonde hair, loving that she let him play with it. "You know I meant it, what I said earlier."

 "I know, love." She cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

 He eagerly kissed her back, diving into her affections without hesitation. He loved the way she fit in his arms, the way her lips glided against his, how his heart threatened to explode with joy with just the mere thought of her. Although they had not yet said those three little words to one another, he knew it was true for him. She was perfect for him, and although she had her quirks that annoyed him and her own haunted past that gave her nightmares, he would not change anything about her.

 Finally, they broke apart, both breathing a little more heavily and dopey smiles on both their faces. He would love to stay here with her, just the two of them and kiss her senseless or until he removed any self-doubt she still struggled with. The Avengers' part of his mind reminded him that she had run out to the forest before the debrief which would be a headache in itself if they did not return soon. He sighed, lamenting that this moment had to end. "Come on, doll. Let's get you back. Steve will want to check in with you."

 "Ok…"

 He stepped away for her to jump down but she did not move. 

 "Doll…" That grin on her face spelled trouble, he just knew it. 

 "I'm tired...can you give me a piggyback ride?"

 He raised an eyebrow at her. 

 She smiled sweetly, hands clasped in front of her and swaying slightly. Between the delicate features, small stature and purple eyes, she really did look like a damn fairy. 

 "Fine…"

 She squealed as she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Just as he thought about protesting loudly, she smacked a loud kiss on his cheek then giggled. Who was he kidding, he would do anything for her. 

 If he had to give a few death glares and mild threats in the future to suppress jokes about the Winter Soldier giving piggyback rides…that was not his fault. 

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Hayley'sBirthday #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #james barnes x ofc #fluff #mzwrites

[wherevermyway]

we’re professional. (1/??) // minbin // 18+

❄ part of yuki’s favourites! ❄

we’re professional. chapter one: sophisticated series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

pairing: lee minho x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, eventual sexual content, age difference, art student changbin, artist minho, fake dating AU. word count: 4,807 also on AO3

originally posted: 17 december 2020

series summary: Lee Minho, or Minho: The Heartless, is a famous artist, which comes with an annoying entourage of paparazzi that are very invested in his life.

Two years ago, a piece at UBC's annual student's exhibit catches Minho's eye: "arranged: in black", a series of greyscale paintings crafted by sophomore Seo Changbin. Minho talks with Changbin at length for hours, then offers to help him financially if they pretend to date for a while, so Minho can please the press. Naturally, a walking exhibit of the "starving artist" stereotype, Changbin accepts the offer wholeheartedly.

There are no strings attached: Changbin can leave at any time. Hell, Minho doesn't even ask him for sex in exchange for the money, just companionship and occasional skinship. Changbin knows that Minho is emotionally damaged from several bad relationships in the past, so to have someone pay him just for providing them company is nice. Sure, he could go off and date someone and work on settling down, but he just doesn't want to. Minho is too interesting, too valuable.

Eventually, something's gotta give. When it does, it could potentially damage their relationship and careers forever.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

chapter summary: Minho brings up an interesting proposal while celebrating the second year of his professional arrangement with Changbin.

“I can’t accept this.” The young, blue-haired man at the opposite side of the table of a middle-aged brunette pushes an open envelope back across the table. “It’s too much. You’ve already given me so much this month, I couldn’t possibly accept anymore.”

“Changbin,” the brunette smirks, bringing the crystal glass of wine up to his mouth. “Please, don’t insult me. I’m not offering this just off the cuff. Besides, it’s not just cash that’s in there.”

The bluenette frowns, bringing his gin and tonic to his mouth, taking a careful, prescribed sip as he watches the older man cautiously. He lets the gin burn its way down his throat before he sighs. “It’s sex, then. That’s what you want, Minho?”

“No.” Minho’s expression quickly turns serious and slightly sour. “Not at all. I told you when we first started this arrangement that this wouldn’t turn sexual.”

“Right.” Changbin cocks his eyebrows up in response, his tone somewhat sarcastic. He brings the glass up again, tilting it and his head backwards, letting the ice slink down and hit him in the nose as he finishes off his drink. He sets the glass down on to the table, ice settling with a soft clink, before he rolls his eyes up and frowns. “What’s all this for, then?” The young man rolls his wrist around, bringing his chin down to his right hand. “You’ve really gone all out for this date.”

Minho softly smiles, then mimics Changbin, mirroring him in the way that he places his head in his left palm. “It’s been two years, officially.” He makes eye contact with a server somewhere off in the distance, and nods upward.

“Two years, eh?” Changbin tuts. “Surprising that neither of us have gotten sick of each other, nor found other people to spend time with.” He takes in a quick breath, then flashes his teeth with a lazy smirk. “Sure you’re not getting serious with me yet?”

The older man opens his mouth to speak, but quickly recedes his statement as a lanky waiter confidently struts over to the table. “Hyunjin, could you please bring me the bottle of Clos D’Ambonnay I have in the back?”

“Of course, Mr. Lee,” the blond waiter nods his head once with a polite smile before he makes his way back to whence he came.

Changbin squinted, knitting his brows together as he shook his head once. “You own this restaurant, too, don’t you?”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t necessarily say own it, no.” Minho hums, bringing his index finger in between his teeth as he ponders. “It’s a partnership with an old colleague of mine, Chan; you met him at the Vivace Vancouver exhibit over the spring. He had that dreadful red hair, the one where you said he looked like he got electrocuted and then spray painted by an angry ex-lover.”

The younger man’s eyes go wide as he tries to hold back his laughter. “Oh my god,” he sighs, “I remember that. How do you forget something so audacious, is that even possible?” He regains his composure and rests upright against the back of the chair. “In my defence, though, I was two glasses of Chianti in when I said that. Please tell me that his hair isn’t that horrible shade anymore. It was so bad.”

Minho smiles widely and softly shakes his head. “No, no, god, no. I met with him the day after and told him that he needed to go back to see my stylist immediately and never go back to the hellspawn that butchered his hair.”

“Apologies for the interruption, Mr. Lee,” the lanky waiter from before returned, presenting a black bottle before he placed it on top of the table. “As requested.” He placed well-crafted champagne flutes in front of both Minho and Changbin.

“Hyunjin,” Minho tutted as the waiter grabbed the bottle, “I’ve told you several times that just ‘Minho’ is fine.”

The blond waiter half-smiled as he wrapped a hand towel around the cork, deftly wiggling it off with a muffled pop. “And I will tell you each time,” he poured some of the champagne into Changbin’s glass first, “you will always be Mr. Lee when I’m at work.”

“You’re too stiff,” the brunette gently pushed his glass towards the blond as he set Changbin’s glass down. “I know that Chan — sorry, Mr. Bang — is strict with all of you, to maintain a pristine image,” Hyunjin picks up Minho’s glass and bites his lip as if he’s holding back commentary, “but you’re still in your prime. Bend the rules a little while you can get away with it.”

Changbin watches the way Minho’s eyes flutter around from the glass to Hyunjin, catching himself getting caught up in the way the light sparkles against his brown eyes, the way his eyelashes paint shadows on his irises. He doesn’t mean for every detail to be etched into his memory, but there was always something about remembering the details of Minho’s soft face that warmed him. If it were any other world, any other person, perhaps he would be catching feelings.

This arrangement, however, was strictly professional. There was no room for feelings.

Hyunjin sets the bottle back down onto the table. “Sure thing, Minho,” he sarcastically scoffs as he wiggles his shoulders in some sort of strange dance of mockery. “Would you like an ice bucket to keep this chilled?”

Minho shrugs, seemingly indifferent, but his expression turns a bit more serious. “I suppose. Don’t worry about us, though. Tend to the other customers first — we’ll be here for a while longer. A bit of champagne slowly warming won’t be the end of the world.”

“You got it, Mr. Lee,” Hyunjin says, tipping his index and middle fingers off of his forehead in some sort of joking salute before he spins on his heel and walks off to another table.

Minho grabs his champagne flute and flashes his teeth at Changbin. “Sorry about that, love, I’ve just gotta give the staff here trouble every now and again.”

Changbin blushes as he picks up his champagne flute, bringing it close to Minho’s. “Don’t apologize.” He tries to restrain his embarrassment, still mentally replaying the way that Minho called him ‘love’, desperately trying to get the sound to imprint upon his memory. “Anyway,” he lifts his head from his palm and stares directly into the brunette’s eyes. “Two years? I can’t believe it’s been this long since I met you.”

“Your ‘arranged: in black’ series captured me, Changbin, what can I say?” The older man tilts his head to the side, tugging his lips into a smile. “I still think about it every day.”

“It’s hard to avoid thinking about it when all four pieces are hanging behind your bed, wouldn’t you say?”

“Suppose that’s fair,” Minho bites his bottom lip as he avoids laughing. “But, wow, two years. Two very eventful years. To think, you were a scraggly sophomore two years ago when I met you. You really kind of fit the ‘starving artist’ stereotype back then, hmm?”

Changbin’s eyes subconsciously darted down to the maroon tablecloth. He avoided thinking about his life before he met Minho, since it wasn’t something he was overly fond of. Sleeping for a couple of hours a night after a late dishwashing shift at the restaurant, waking up before dawn to run to his part-time barista job, then somehow getting to class just in time to nearly doze off mid-project sketch, all to repeat it again the next day. The chronic sleep deprivation painted him in an ashy grey, and he perpetually smelled of instant ramen and coffee.

No. That was in the past.

He shuddered at the thought of his past life. It was stressful, and he was thankful that Minho came along and offered him some kindness. Most art students either came from wealthy families, or lived in the same shoes that Changbin did. The ones that weren’t from wealthy lineage would probably stay under the poverty line for the rest of their lives, but at least they would be happy creating things that came from the depths of their soul.

For some, it was worth the sacrifice. He knew what he was getting into when he was accepted into the visual arts programme at the University of British Columbia, and he was prepared for the pain and agony it would cause him for the small chance he could make it big while doing something he loved.

“Binnie, love?” Minho’s soft voice pulled Changbin from his memory. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Changbin nodded his head a couple of times, almost as if he was willing himself to be calm. “Sorry, I just kinda got distracted. Thought about when we first met and kinda got transported back in time.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it definitely was far from the truth.

The older man softly smiled and nudged his champagne flute forward. “Well, here’s to two years of whatever the hell this is. Here’s to however long we have left and to wherever we may go next.”

Changbin smiled, turning his chin slightly inward as he tapped his flute against Minho’s. “I like that. To whatever the hell is next.”

“‘Whatever the hell is next’,” Minho smiled as he brought the flute up to his lips. “That’s a good one.”

They didn’t get to the bottom of the bottle of champagne until about a half-hour past closing. It had been two years of the same company every Tuesday and Thursday night, and usually most Fridays and Saturdays, yet they still found new things to talk about each time they met. “You’re still so foolishly young and in university,” Minho would scold Changbin over the phone, “so go out and get hammered at a stupid house party and I’ll come by tomorrow and help nurse you out of your hangover.” Minho was really a sweetheart, even if he didn’t want to date and was, to quote Minho himself, ‘emotionally unavailable’.

It had been two years, and Changbin still didn’t fully understand why people were so pressed on calling Minho heartless.

“And so,” Changbin took a sip of water from his glass, setting it down a bit roughly, some of the water sloshing around and splashing on to the table, “I had to sketch a live model, right? Turns out Seungmin makes a horrible model at two in the morning, but we thought the idea was brilliant.”

Minho loudly cackles, throwing his head back and clapping his hands once in front of his face. “You had just gotten done downing several shots at the bar. What made either of you think that sketching in charcoal was a good idea?”

The younger man folds over, resting his head in his palms as he tries not to collapse on to the floor in laughter. “The project was due on Monday! And, hey, we got it done, and I somehow got a decent grade in the end.”

“Ah,” Minho leans back into his chair as he looks up to the wall to his left, smiling as he wipes a tear from his eye. “I’d love to scold you for that, but the truth is, I can’t. I did the same things in uni ten years ago.”

Changbin rests his chin against the back of his hand, languidly smiling as he watches Minho get lost in memories past. These moments that they shared, where they were just so plainly human — not a famous artist, not a struggling art student, but simply Minho and Changbin — these were why Changbin never sought out another partner. It was unconventional to most people, especially those his age, to have such a hands-off relationship, but it just worked for them. Sometimes, the things that came off the most discordant could somehow still find a way to harmonize, and that was what they did.

“You know, you didn’t totally open the envelope,” Minho points at the middle of the table with an open hand, as if he were guiding Changbin back to the thick paper.

Changbin shrugged his shoulders and bashfully looked away for a moment before staring Minho down. “Come on, Min,” he lowers his voice a bit, “I don’t need to know how much you’re giving me, at least not now.”

Minho dismissively waves his hand before nudging the envelope back to Changbin. “It’s not just money, love, I promise. Nothing too domestic, either. Just,” he pauses, bringing a finger to his chin as he looks up at the ceiling, “I suppose it’s partially a token of my appreciation? Yeah, that sounds right. A way to tell you I’m thankful you’ve stuck around for so long, even with all of the weird shit we’ve gone through. There’s more to it than that, but that sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“I dunno, you’re making this feel like a real relationship,” the bluenette sarcastically mumbles a bit as he gingerly picks up the envelope, squinting a bit at Minho. He opens it, then pulls out a few plastic-like polymer bills: some green, some red. His expression quickly shifts to confusion when he comes across papery stationary, the textural difference causing a nerve to spark up in his arm. Stationary. A letter? He pulls the light grey paper out of the envelope, eyeing Minho as he opens it. “Really? Getting awfully boyfriend-like on me, Min.”

“Oh, come on, just read it,” the older man tuts, rifling through the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “I promise, it’s not as sappy as it looks.”

Changbin plucks his glasses from the table, wiggling the temples to fit just behind his ears, then clears his throat. He tries to swallow down the smirk on his face as he mocks Minho’s intonation and speech. “My loveliest Changbin,” a laugh creeps up from his stomach as he reads on. “Every single day, I wake up and I see your ‘arranged: in black’ pieces, intricately framed behind my bed, and I’m taken aback by the fact that your mind knows no bounds when it comes to expressing creativity.” The younger man peers over the sheet again, studying the somewhat bored, slightly flustered expression on the elder’s face.

“So I had a couple of glasses of wine while writing, I got a bit sentimental.” Minho flutters his lips as he rolls his eyes and flicks his wrist. “At least it’s not as bad as last year’s letter.”

Changbin smiled, but quickly brought the paper in front of his face to hide the subtle reddish tint growing on his face. “I usually don’t like keeping my own work, as you know,” he continued to read off of the letter, still avoiding eye contact with Minho, “but the graphite portrait of you, asleep on my bed from your last bout of finals — it holds a special spot in my heart. I love seeing it every time I enter my closet. It’s like there are little reminders of you scattered across my apartment, and across my heart.”

Oh.

There was a warmth that blossomed and grew in Changbin’s abdomen. The warmth reminded him of ivy hanging off of old buildings, quickly encompassing and embracing everything within its reach. It was a strange sensation, and it gave him pause before he continued reading the note.

Perhaps this was more than sentimental.

Perhaps Changbin was reading too far into things again.

“Changbin?” Minho’s voice pulled the bluenette from the cavern of thoughts he had recessed himself into. “Where did you go?” His tone was firm, distracting Changbin from the fact that Minho had interlaced his fingers between the younger man’s left hand.

This was something they always did. Minho was always touchy-feely, even if it didn’t progress past shirtless embraces as they slept next to each other, or walking hand-in-hand. The way the pads of Minho’s fingertips softly caressed the back of his hand, though, made things seem different. Special.

“Your closet.” Realizing he had spent too much time losing himself in between the grooves of Minho’s fingerprints, Changbin sputtered out some words to barely form a coherent thought. “You reminded me that I still have one of your Burberry hoodies lost somewhere in my apartment.”

Minho furrowed his brows for a moment, trying not to get caught up on how distant Changbin’s response was. “The oversized black one? You know I don’t mind if you keep it, Bin.”

“It was nearly a thousand dollars, Minho.”

The older man scoffs and rolls his eyes a bit, bringing his left hand up to the table, a small brown box of sorts covered up by his palm. “Well,” the brunette squeezed Changbin’s hand a bit, causing them to make eye contact, “when you’re done reading that letter, I’ll be sure to avoid telling you how much your ‘anniversary’ gift is.” Minho winked as he ended his sentence, right when Changbin was thinking about saying something in protest.

“Minho,” Changbin whines, drooping his shoulders a bit as he frowns.

“Changbin,” Minho teases a bit as he mockingly whines in response. “Trust me, it’s not just me spending money aimlessly. It’ll tie into the idea I have in that letter. You know, really make some of those tabloids make us look nice and get off our backs for a while.”

The younger man bit his tongue and scanned his eyes down the letter, trying to find the last spot he had read over. Across my apartment , reading the words caused his hands to sweat, across my heart, made his stomach clench. Domestic and soft, exactly what they were, but also, somehow exactly what they were not. He continued reading off the letter, but his memories started creeping up during the empty gaps between sentences.

There was the callous bite to Minho’s tone during their first real meet-up. “Our arrangement is for mutual gains: you’ll be able to live comfortably, and I’ll get the press off of my back. You won’t be a starving artist, and I’ll no longer be ‘Minho, the Heartless’. We’re professional boyfriends: all of the benefits, none of the downsides, like feelings.” His bony hands felt cold, like ice, when they shook hands to confirm their arrangement. Changbin had felt in over his head then, but he knew he didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

In contrast, there was the night that Changbin had recently stayed over at the end of October. They had gotten back shortly after one in the morning after celebrating Minho’s thirty-first birthday with a handful of his friends and several well-renowned professional artists and gallery owners. Sure, Changbin had been Minho’s quote-unquote “boyfriend” for the night, but it benefitted his art career a bit, just to branch out and connect. None of that had mattered, though, because the best part was when they had gotten half-undressed and passed out on Minho’s duvet together, giggling about how some of the attendees thought ‘artist’s birthday’ meant ‘licence to dress as insanely as humanly possible’. The one-on-one time was always what Changbin looked forward to the most: that soft, personal connection with another person on such a raw, human level.

That was the weekend he borrowed Minho’s black, oversized Burberry sweater to wear home. Changbin lied earlier. He knew exactly where it was: curled up next to his wall in his bed. The soft scent of bergamot and mandarin of the Dior Sauvage that Minho wore on his wrists and in the divots of his clavicles had slowly started to fade into hints of vanilla and sandalwood. While he knew that his arrangement with Minho wouldn’t last forever, he wanted to live in the moments that made him feel like he was in a true, caring relationship. He had a friend in Minho, he truly did. It would probably hurt like hell when they eventually decided to move on from their agreement.

We're professional. Changbin would remind himself every night as he curled up into Minho’s sweater, remembering the way Minho’s arms felt warm on his back and on his shoulders, how soft his manicured fingers were when they fit perfectly in between Changbin’s. We are not real boyfriends. The sweater would catch his inevitable tears as he lost himself in the confusing haze they had painted themselves under. Business dynamic. This was the price he would pay to get into the elusive elitist art world. Strictly professional.

Even if it cost him his sanity.

“Did I just read that correctly?” Changbin’s voice was alarmed, and he frantically re-read the words on the paper before darting his eyes around nervously. Minho smirked as Changbin leaned over the table, dropping his voice to a just-audible whisper. “You want to do what to get the press’ attention?”

Minho grabbed the ashy brown jewellery box from the table, letting go of Changbin’s left hand. He opened the box and his expression flattened. “Exactly what the paper says, Bin.” Inside the desaturated box sat a contrastingly bright, rose gold band.

It was a ring embedded with actual fucking diamonds.

To anyone else, this would be serious. ‘Call your parents, scream at your best friend, even at two in the morning’ levels of seriousness. However, Changbin and Minho were not ‘anyone else’. They were in their own strange, unique bubble where the rules of modern society did not apply to them.

“How about we graduate from professional boyfriends to professional fiancés?”

Like most Sunday mornings nowadays, Changbin woke up to the scent of freshly-brewed coffee. Minho may have travelled to fancy galleries across the world and tried extravagant blends of coffee during his tenure, but he would always fall back on Starbucks’ blonde roast for his morning routines. “Why bother going through all of the effort of getting my hands on something overly fancy from Europe? I have yet to be let down by this one, and it’s been over ten years since I started drinking it. Why stop now?”

The logic made sense, really, and the coffee wasn’t bad.

“The Vancouver Sun’s already got an article out,” Minho excitedly muttered under his breath, setting a ceramic mug down on the nightstand closest to Changbin. He stared at his phone as he made his way back around the bed, causing the mattress to sink as he sat down. “So many people are speculating, like it even matters. If they had really been following me these past two years, they’d know better.”

It was too early for this. Minho was always business as soon as he woke up: endearing in theory, terribly annoying in practice.

Changbin rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he rolled onto his back, sleepily glaring up at Minho. “You’re loud.”

“And you’re hungover,” the brunette quipped, not looking away from his phone as he smiled at himself. “Drink your water and your coffee, love, you’ll feel better.”

“Whatever,” Changbin grumbled under his breath as he sat up, reaching over to the nightstand. There was a sheen on his left hand that caused him to momentarily lose his breath. Shit. He drew his hand into his face to stare at the ring he had conveniently forgotten about overnight. It felt like nothing before he noticed it, but now that he was staring at it, it felt like the ring was going to cut off the circulation to his finger. It felt like a boa constrictor was tightening around him, making it hard to breathe.

Changbin had every intention to pull himself away from the suffocation of the ring. Instead, he found himself trying to count each small diamond wedged between the two layers of rose gold. A sudden dip right behind him and an arm around his waist literally pulled him from his thoughts. “Min!”

“It’s pretty,” Minho gently grabbed Changbin’s hand, tucking his chin into the younger man’s shoulder. “I didn’t know if you’d like rose gold, but I know you hate gold, and silver’s too simple for you. For a fake engagement ring, seems pretty convincing, hmm?”

As much as he doesn’t want to, Changbin sinks into Minho’s embrace. Blame it on the fatigue, he figured, but found himself surprised that the older man didn’t pull away. For the shortest of moments, it almost feels like they’re meant to fit together like this. “It’s expensive,” the brunette whispers, “to no one’s surprise, so please don’t lose it.”

The younger man squints in disapproval. “How much was it?”

“It’s impolite to ask a fiancé something like that, you know,” Minho huffs a bit dramatically as he feigns irritation.

Changbin, however, seems plenty irritated for the both of them. He rolls around, mere centimetres away from Minho’s face as he frowns up at the older man. “It’s a good thing this is all fake, then, right? How much was it?”

“Bin,” the brunette’s expression falters as he cocks his head to the side. “It’s not important, I don’t understand why you’re so—”

Changbin desperately wants to stay this close to Minho, to drown in his embrace and the warmth of his touch. Professional. Fake boyfriends, fake fiancés. “It’s just for show, I know. Since it’s fake, though, you shouldn’t have a problem telling me, right?” There’s a layer of hurt in his voice that he knows he can’t hide. He dips his chin into his chest and closes his eyes, desperate to make this all just stop and go away. Something about this, though, just felt too real, too close to an actual relationship.

What the fuck were they doing? All of this had to cross some sort of unspoken relationship rule somewhere, right? The blurred lines between what was real and what was fake in their arrangement was causing Changbin's head to spin.

Minho doesn’t seem sure about how to handle the situation. The moments pass by in silence until the older man takes in a deep breath, then he wiggles his index finger under Changbin’s chin, tilting his face upwards. “Hey,” he quietly demands, “look at me, Bin.”

So, the bluenette does as requested. He stares into Minho’s eyes and instantly softens.

“If it bothers you that much, I can go out and get something simpler.” Minho’s voice quivers a bit, almost like he feels how uncomfortable Changbin is. “I just… I don’t know what I was thinking when I went out and I got this one. I looked around with the agent for over an hour, and then that one just caught my eye, just as things were looking hopeless.”

Suddenly, Changbin’s hand is in Minho’s again, and the older man stares at the band with purpose, rotating the younger man’s hand around freely. “I guess I put in a bit too much of a personal flair on this. I really prioritized what I figured you’d like before the importance of keeping up the façade that this is all fake.”

They both stare at the ring for a moment, then look at one another. Neither of them moved, neither of them breathed as they stared at each other with shared panic, concern, worry. There was an unfamiliar emotion that lingered at the back of their gaze, but it was hard to place. Changbin hadn’t felt anything like this before. He was equal parts nervous, nauseated, and lost.

If this were like the romantic comedies that Changbin and Seungmin would watch while hungover, this would be the part where Minho would roll on top of him, say something like “fuck the rules, I just want you”. They would cry and kiss and roll around the sheets together. There would be a swell of uplifting orchestral music in the background, indicating that fate had given its blessing on the couple.

This wasn’t a movie, though. This was fucking reality, and there was nothing but tension in the air and a yearning in the bottom of Changbin’s stomach. Their situation was complex and convoluted and it was going to end in heartbreak for him, and only him. Really, he had no one to blame but himself.

Our arrangement is for mutual gains. Minho’s voice was so loud.

We’re professional boyfriends. It was sour.

All of the benefits, none of the downsides, like feelings. It hurt as it echoed in Changbin’s head, but Minho’s voice was all he wanted to hear.

Feelings.

Feelings?

That’s when it hit Changbin: he was falling for Minho — Minho, the (supposedly, yet to be proven) Heartless — and he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how stupid he knew it was. Perhaps the most terrifying part of this, though, wasn’t the fact that Minho didn’t feel the same way.

No, the most terrifying thing was that Changbin couldn’t tell if Minho was actually interested in him or not. Minho always felt strongly one way or another. For them to sit here, struck dumb in silence, was unnerving. The silence meant uncertainty.

It meant possibility.

#we're professional #skz fics #lee minho x seo changbin #seo changbin x lee minho #minbin #minho x changbin #changbin x minho #wherevermyway

[artificialqueens]

Flower Files, Part 3 (Rajalaskam, Witney) - Albatross

AN: The third installment of Flower Files featuring Rajalaskam and Witney

Chapter 5 - Rajalaskam

Step. Step. Squish.

Perfect, Willam thought to herself, Just. Fucking. Perfect.

Even before looking down, Willam knew exactly what had just happened. She had just stepped into a very mushy, very rancid pumpkin. She could feel the gooey, decomposing rind brushing against her bare toes. Gross! 

“Ugh,” she groaned out in disgust as she pulled out her foot from the mess. It was all over her beautiful heels!

“What happened?” came the distracted reply from Alaska, squatting down just a few feet away and examining yet another pumpkin.

It was her fault Willam was in this mess. Alaska had wanted to pick out pumpkins for the autumn display outside their house. Some would be carved, others merely decorative, but she needed at least one other person to help her carry them, she explained to her girlfriends earlier that week. Raja was quick to point out that she had to work that Saturday morning. It was very calm, very mild the way she said it but that slight curling of her lips, as well as the teasing glint in her eyes as she turned Willam’s way, let her know she was anything but sorry to miss this little adventure. So all that was left was Willam, who made sure never to work on weekends, especially in the early morning.

Goddamn it.

She tried to talk Alaska out of it, offering to buy her “one of those pumpkin spice crappuccinos or whatever” instead but Alaska was not having it.

“As tempting as that sounds,” she noted with a hint of sarcasm, “No.”

Willam had sighed, loudly and expressively. She knew she wasn’t going to win this; in the end she’d always end up giving into Alaska, but that didn’t mean she’d go down without a fight. Smiling back at her girlfriend, Alaska tried to entice her with, “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Don’t you remember picking out pumpkins when you were a kid?”

“No.”

“It won’t even take that long, promise.”

“Bullshit.”

The back and forth went on for another five minutes but as expected, Willam eventually gave in. At least, she consoled herself, it’ll just be a quick trip to the supermarket. Alaska can pick out the pumpkins while Willam stays in the nice, warm car and then she’ll help carry them after Alaska has found her favorites. Should be done in 30 minutes. 45, tops.

Or so Willam thought.

What Alaska neglected to mention was that she intended to pick out her pumpkins directly from the patch…and that of course meant walking up and down the endless rows examining Every. Fucking. Pumpkin. 

All while Willam pulled the heavy cart behind her. In heels, no less!

She had rounded on her girlfriend with an intense glare the moment they pulled into the lot and Willam realized what was going on. Of course Alaska would want to do it the old fashioned way but why for God’s sake did she have to pull Willam into this utter ridiculousness?

“Jesus Christ,” she complained, “I’m in heels for fuck’s sake!”

“You’re always in heels,” Alaska pointed out sedately as she exited the car, “And I told you to wear comfortable shoes.”

“These are comfortable!” Willam argued, following after her, “On solid ground. Not this disgusting mess…And is that fucking manure over there?”

Alaska merely shrugged as she led them over to the wagon rental. Though she tried to hide it, a devilish little smirk was curling at the edges of her lips. Willam was so going to get her back for this! And Raja. 

Lucky little bitch!

She had little doubt Raja knew exactly what Alaska meant by picking out pumpkins. Probably arranged to be working today so she’d get out of it.

Oh, Willam was definitely going to get both of them.

She complained for the first 10 minutes, non-stop, loud and annoying as only she could but Alaska was unbothered. She paid little attention to Willam’s whining. After all, it was nothing compared to her own temper tantrums. And she knew Willam would trail off sooner or later.

As the vocal complaints turned to disgruntled mumblings, Alaska felt free to enjoy herself. She loved the thought of picking out pumpkins straight from the farm; there was something quaint and wholesome about it that reminded her of childhood. And she loved that she got to experience this with one of her girlfriends. She would have preferred both but she was sure she could rope Raja into decorating the display with her later. Maybe she could even convince Willam to carve a pumpkin or two with them…

Two hours slipped by, Willam trudging along the rough path with the wagon following behind her and Alaska constantly bending over and examining each pumpkin she thought might belong in her display. There were only two more rows left to inspect and then they could call it a day. By this point Willam was dazed and resigned to her fate. She distracted herself with lazy thoughts of how to get revenge on both of her girlfriends…maybe in bed…maybe not…but when her foot sunk deep into the rotten rind of a pumpkin left a little too close to the path, she was sharply awoken from her distracted state.

A shiver had travelled up her spine as the cold, gooey insides seeped between her toes while Alaska asked her what was wrong. It was here Willam began her complaints anew but to her slight relief, they actually worked this time. Alaska had taken a look back at the wagon and the last pumpkin in her hands and decided this would be enough to at least get her started with the display piece. She might need to pick up an extra pumpkin or two from the grocery store but they could leave the fields now. Willam was being a relatively good sport earlier so it was the least Alaska could do not to force her to continue walking with all that gunk on her foot.

As they arrived back at the stall to pay for their finds, Alaska took the opportunity to pick out a few extra gourds and mini pumpkins to accentuate her display. She was quick about it, knowing Willam’s mood was gradually growing worse, but to her surprise Willam actually picked up one of the small, dark green mini pumpkins on her own. Perhaps she wasn’t as annoyed after all?

As soon as they were in the car, Willam tore off her heels and retrieved a few napkins tucked away in the glove box to properly clean them off. Before Alaska drove off, she pressed a quick kiss to Willam’s cheek and thanked her for coming along.

Though Willam would never admit it, the kiss and heartfelt ‘Thank you’ had mollified her. But she still had a reputation to uphold and continued to act irritated all the way home.

Barefoot, she helped Alaska empty out the car of their purchases and bring a few pumpkins of choice indoors for carving. While Alaska washed them off in the sink and set down newspaper over the table, Willam scurried off to change into something much more comfortable. By the time she returned, in a pair of skimpy, skin tight shorts, a well-loved T-shirt, and her hair done up in a messy bun, she found Alaska already sketching out the first Jack-O-Lantern’s face. A few smaller pumpkins had been left off to the side, misshapen or oddly textured, just the way Raja liked them. She knew Raja would not disappoint in whatever she decided to do to decorate them.

Alaska’s pumpkins, however, were kept charmingly simple. Triangle eyes and nose, scattered teeth in a wide grin, she even sketched out ear holes on the sides.

Willam watched her for a few moments as she completely absorbed herself in creating the perfect cutesy faces for each pumpkin. Then Willam let her attention drift back to the singular pumpkin she had picked out. She knew exactly what she wanted to do with it and after the morning she had, felt it was a deserving purpose for the little gourd.

She made quick work of washing the miniature pumpkin and lightly marking where she wanted to cut. She was unusually careful not to cut too deep, Alaska noticed. Her gaze kept drifting back to her girlfriend out of both curiosity and slight concern. Willam was always a chaotic force whenever crafting was involved, and then throwing in a knife as well? Alaska’s heart never raced harder than when she saw Willam haphazardly cutting into something while ignoring all safety precautions or gentle warnings from her girlfriends.

Alaska was just about to begin carving her second pumpkin by the time Willam had removed a section off the top of hers and cleaned out the innards. She carelessly licked the pumpkin guts off the knife, making Alaska’s stomach queasy in process. But before she looked away for her own sanity, she noticed Willam’s face contorting in the cutest expression of mild disgust. Alaska couldn’t stop her lips from curling as she refocused on her own crafting. 

Her attention was soon divided again by Willam running back to the kitchen and rummaging through the drawers, then off to the bathroom and strangely towards the bedroom as well. She came back with the oddest collection of items; a cheap metal flour sifter from the dollar store, a screwdriver she picked up somewhere, one of Raja’s clogs that Willam regularly made fun of, some kind of plastic tubes, and-

Wait.

Now Alaska realized what she was doing.

She’d seen Raja demonstrate this so many times (though her efforts were always a bit more organized than this).

Willam was making a bong out of her mini pumpkin. Alaska had to laugh, because of course she would. How had she missed the gears spinning in Willam’s head as she picked out the pumpkin from the stall?

“Gonna share that when you’re done, right?” Alaska asked, amusement in her voice, as Willam tried to hammer the screwdriver into the pumpkin with Raja’s clog.

“Maybe,” Willam replied distractedly. 

Read as ‘of course,’ Alaska noted with a grin.

They continued their projects for the next hour in relative silence. The dining room table was a mess of soiled newspaper, pumpkin guts and random disassembled household products Willam had collected for her home-made bong. She was still experimenting with getting it just right when Raja arrived back home. She had immediately made her way towards the kitchen, following the sounds of clatter and clanging to find her partners each engaged in their own tasks at the table. Willam was the most focused and didn’t notice her right away until she felt Raja pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She didn’t say anything but the hint of a grin as she worked told Raja more than enough. Though she had to wonder why one of her clogs was left laying on the table. Moving on to Alaska, she pressed a kiss to her cheek as well, wiping off some of the dried pumpkin guts Alaska had missed earlier when she tried to clean her face.

“You ladies have fun today?” she asked, arms wrapped around Alaska’s waist as they both watched Willam pouring a half-empty bottle of water into the little pumpkin.

“No,” Willam complained briefly before taking her first hit.

“I did,” Alaska countered. “Wish you were there though.”

“Yeah, you could’ve pulled the fucking wagon,” Willam muttered.

Raja chuckled lightly as she moved over to sit next to Willam and relieve her of the pumpkin. “Next time,” she promised, taking an experimental hit off Willam’s questionable-looking bong.

“Not bad,” she commented as her lips broke free. Willam made a noise of agreement as well as a few mental notes of what to do better next time. But it came out surprisingly effective for a spur of the moment decision.

The pair passed the pumpkin back and forth for another round as Alaska finished the last of her rudimentary cleaning. She laid out a fresh spread of newspaper for whenever Raja started her own carving. She motioned over to the collection of odd and unusual pumpkins before relieving Willam of her bong and taking a few well-earned hits. 

While the two continued to share the homemade bong, Raja’s gaze travelled to the other end of the table to inspect her pumpkins and begin brainstorming for ideas. A few thoughts were brewing but she’d definitely sketch them out on paper first before marking up any of the pumpkins. One thing she did notice right away brought a smile to her lips.

“They’re perfect by the way,” she complimented Alaska. “You know how much I like the weird ones.”

She glanced over to Willam, now taking another hit, and nudged her lightly in the side. Willam stared blankly for a moment, wheels turning in her head, as Alaska struggled not to outright laugh. Then, after 2 or 3 seconds, Willam’s mind caught up with what Raja had said and she immediately stuck her tongue out. “Fuck off,” she laughed out in a huff. “I hate both of you.”

“Yes, and we hate you, too,” Raja murmured, pressing a brief kiss to Willam’s grinning lips.

Chapter 6 - Witney

“Dandelions are kinda pretty, don'tcha think?” Courtney blurted out as she and Willam trekked through the park. Her gaze had been wandering around the huge open space that surrounded them. It seemed like everything was in bloom right now, whether it was the flowers on the trees or the wildflowers off in the distance, but especially noticeable was dandelions scattered in amongst the grass.

Irritably shifting their overpacked cooler from one hand to another, Willam remarked, “I think it’s a weed.”

“Still pretty,” Courtney countered, picking up one just off the dirt trail they were using and holding it out for Willam to see.

Despite Courtney’s usually infectious smile, Willam just looked at the object derisively for a moment, shifted the cooler yet again, and commented, “Still a weed…but not the useful kind.”

Laughing lightly as she bent down to pick up another long stemmed dandelion, Courtney pointed out, “Dandelions are plenty useful. Bees love them.”

“Bees love any kind of flower,” Willam muttered, trying to keep from huffing as she continued to struggle with the cooler. Maybe if she tried carrying it with both hands?

“They’re nutritious too,” Courtney chirped away, plucking up another flower, “…can even be used for medicine.”

It was here Willam stopped in her tracks for a hot second to give Courtney a look of concern. “Please tell me you don’t actually eat them,” she groaned in mild disgust.

Courtney’s laughter echoed through the park as she veered off the path again and replied, “No, but it’s still good information to know.”

“Right,” Willam grumbled sarcastically. Looking up ahead, she was relieved to find the picnic table was finally within sight. Just a few more feet.

Bending down to pick up another few dandelions growing clustered together, Courtney added in, “And it helps that they’re so easy to grow.“

“Again; because it’s a weed!” Willam shouted back as she rushed on towards the table. She dropped the cooler as soon as she was close enough and not a moment too soon; her fingers felt like they were about to break off! 

She shook her hands trying to regain some of the feeling back in her fingers before sitting down and unpacking their weighty lunch. Courtney was still off the path, about 10 or so yards away, picking the blooming dandelions with the longest stems. When she finally had a nice little bundle in her hand, she rejoined Willam at the picnic table. Renewing their conversation, one Willam had hoped was finally done, Courtney stated proudly, “They can even grow through the cracks in concrete. That’s perseverance.”

“That sounds stolen from a motivational poster,” Willam countered with an eye roll. Despite her firm stance that dandelions were just a weed, she could feel a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, especially once Courtney corrected her with a lazy, drawn out, “Maybe borrowed.”

For the next minute or two, Willam focused her energy on setting out their lunches while Courtney fiddled with all the flowers she collected. Willam didn’t pay much attention to her, instead she was sorting through what food was definitely hers so she could finally eat. She hadn’t realized just how starving she was until she could finally see the food laid out in front of her. 

She was nearly finished with her task when Courtney mused out loud once more, “And it’s fun to blow all the little seeds off and watch them float away.”

“If you say so,” Willam replied distractedly. Just about…Done!

“I do say so,” Courtney teased. When Willam looked back at her, ready to announce that they could start eating, she found herself having to pause. Those stupid little dandelions were gone and Courtney’s hands were currently behind her back. Willam eyed her up suspiciously as Courtney maneuvered her way out of her seat and circled the table until she was sitting right next to Willam. She could barely contain her grin, an act that did nothing to ease Willam’s concerns that she was up to something. Then, very carefully, Courtney withdrew her hands from behind her back and announced, “And…they’re the best flower to make a crown out of.”

No sooner had she said it than Willam found a small crown of poorly tied dandelions resting on her head. Immediately, she gave Courtney a withering look, imagining whatever little bugs that hitched a ride on those flowers now crawling in amongst hair, but Courtney just beamed back at her. She looked so pleased with herself, it was a struggle for Willam not to crack even just a little smile.

Sighing softly in defeat, Willam shook her head and shifted around to remove her phone from her pocket. As she unlocked it, she could hear Courtney giggling next to her, saying, “Alright, you can take it off.”

But to Courtney’s surprise, instead of immediately snatching the handmade crown from her head, Willam simply held up her phone, angled just so, and snapped a series of selfies. With her own cocky, satisfied little grin, Willam informed her, “After lunch I will.”

Squealing in delight, Courtney pulled her in for a brief kiss. Just a small way to thank Willam for humoring her, even begrudgingly. Forgetting the food for now, Willam suggested taking just a few more pictures together. “For Instagram,” she reasoned. But by the end of the day both of their profiles had been loaded with multiple stories of them enjoying their time in the park and in a few carefully angled shots, Willam’s flower crown could still be seen resting on her head well into the late afternoon.

#rpdr fanfiction #raja gemini #alaska thunderfuck #willam belli #alaska x raja x willam #courtney act #witney #lesbian au #poly #rare pair #fluff #flower files #albatross #picnic date #pumpkin patch #pumpkin carving #submission

[sandrawrites13]

baby, it’s cold outside | | mark fischbach x reader

request: It's ya boiiiii from the neighborhood yo! So uh I was wondering if you could do a Mark X Reader where it's like winter and it's snowing outside so Mark's decided to make hot chocolate for them and they cuddle in their room and watch the snowfall and it's hella cute and sweet and Mark's a bean as always (if you don't mind). Thanks A Bunch!

here you go my main man from the neighborhood. you guys seemed to like my dark thing so part two will be up later this week !!  :)  but for now, here’s a cute one shot of mark. 

a friendly reminder, my requests are always open !!  ( hint hint ) 

“you know what’s funny about that song?” you asked as you drank your coffee, a piece of toast besides you. mark was strutting around the kitchen, eating what looked like either a croissant or a muffin. where he got it, you’ll never know. 

“what?” he asked, before taking a bite of said unnamed specimen. you raised your eyebrows, leaning back in your chair. 

“that song is about date rape. kidnapping. forcing a girl to stay with him so he can rape her or God knows what else,” you pointed out, and then went back to sipping your coffee. mark stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you. 

finally, with his lips pursed, he put the food down and shrugged. “nah, i didn’t wanna eat today anyway,” he said. you let out a small laugh, watching him sit next to you, stealing a bite of your toast. 

your eyebrows ruffled. “i thought you just said--.” 

“y/n, y/n,” he boomed loudly, putting a hand on your shoulder. “let’s not think about the past. we all need to think about the future. the future, i say!” he exclaimed the last bit loudly, making you swallow your laugh just in time for him to swallow the rest of your toast. “alright.” 

“alright?” you questioned with an amused eyebrow raise. 

“alright,” he repeated wordlessly, moving through the house. “so, we need to go to sean’s today for the sketch. that should take. . . oh, give or take--.” 

“twenty hours?” you muttered under your breath. 

you were never a fan of recording skits. they were always so long and tedious. it made you want to rip your own hair out half of the time. 

he raised his hand. “all day,” he said, his tone now gone and turned into a mad, impatient one. “dang. i forgot that sketch’s take all day.” 

“how did you forge--?” 

“y/n, the future. remember?” he asked. you finally let the corners of your lips tilt upward into a smile, which would egg him on if you didn’t glance the other way and continue looking at your phone instead. 

“alright. then, we gotta go food shopping because we’re looking a little low. and chica needs another toy.” those words made your eyes go wide as you stood from your chair, pointing. 

“mark edward fischbach, we are not buying chica another toy!” you scolded, encouraging his face to turn disappointed and dramatically depressed. “she has thirty-eight.” 

“let’s make it thirty-nine!” he challenged. “we can get to forty. what’re you, a quitter, y/n? you a bubble blowing baby?” 

your eyes widened. “how. . . how dare you?” you asked in awe, walking backwards slowly. you even faked to cry, your hand over your heart. “how dare you call me. . . i. . . i need some air.” 

mark followed you quickly. through his laughter you could make out, “no!”, “i’m sorry!”, and “you’re not a bubble blowing baby. you’re a bubble blowing babe.” 

you chuckled, opening the door and almost running right into three feet of snow before the freezing air caused you to stop dead in your tracks. 

mark crashed into you from behind given the sudden stop, and both of you almost had a face full of snow if you didn’t catch your support with your hands. 

“uh. . .” you mumbled quietly, nodding. “so. . . it snowed.” 

“that it did,” mark added, slowly walking back into the house as you did similar. “that’s a lot of snow.” 

“that it is,” you added, shutting the front door. you stayed in your spot for a moment before you jumped. “wait a minute! does that mean that we--.” 

mark let out a sigh. “don’t have to--.” 

“record the sketch today!!” you screamed in excitement, chica now waking from her spot on the floor. you were practically jumping, clapping your hands. “thank goodness! i was really not in the mood to record for ten hours.” 

“we also can’t get chica another toy,” mark huffed, now peering the other way as he walked begrudgingly into the other room. “but, we can have a special day anyway.” 

“we can have a lazy day?” you asked, aloud. 

mark smiled as he moved to the kitchen, grabbing some hot chocolate on the counter and glancing in your direction. “yes,” he simply stated, grinning. 

=-=-=

as the snow piled up, you watched mark walk into your room after soft steps gently woke you up. “the hot chocolate’s ready,” he said with a smile. 

you thanked him groggily. 

the second he said you can have a lazy day you were right back in bed, the sound of the snow falling (of which you apparently didn’t even realize until you stepped outside) drawing you close to sleep. 

now, he was back, sitting on the side of the bed and handing you a mug. you accepted it gratefully, now wrapped completely in your blankets. taking a careful sip, you moaned into the cup. “ugh, i needed this so bad.” 

he chuckled, “i can tell,” he said. “you had that ‘i need hot chocolate right now or else i’m going to kill someone’” 

you laughed at that, now placing your cup down and falling back into the plush bed, it too comforting and drawing for you to just let go to waste. though your eyes battled to shut, you fought the urge and instead glanced into mark’s eyes, holding your arms out. “mark. . .” you whispered. 

he looked at you and immediately got the hint, dropping his cup down on the table and sighing a blissful sigh, settling down in the bed next to you. 

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. finally you were able to shut your eyes, whispering out a quick, “i love you,” to your husband. 

he whispered the same back, and both of you fell asleep -- the sound of snowfall filling the house, chica on the edge of the bed, and you with the person you loved most right behind you. 

#mark fischbach x reader #markiplier x reader #markiplier #mark fischbach #markiplier imagine #mark fischbach imagine #markiplier drabble #mark fischbach drabble #au #request #ask

[shibalen]

Hi! I’m so sorry about the earlier request! I misread the rules (._. ) I’d like to request from Akatsuki No Yona and Haikyuu. I prefer a romantic type of matchup. I’m a Capricorn and infp. I have a fairly large social circle and quite talkative with others. But there are times I prefer my own time and silence. I trust people easily and am loyal to my friends. I’m a left hander. My hobbies are writing, reading and watching anime. I listen to various types of music. It depends on my mood. (😁)

I’m a literature student and love to learn about technology. I have three cats and one dog. I adore animals, even insects but not spiders XD. I like dark colours and dark themed movies and stories. My ideal type of date is chilling inside a cafe or walking along a forest or a silent place talking with each other. I’m into carefree guys who get serious in the time of need. (😁)

The type of a guy who would dance around with me in the kitchen and jam to songs with me in the car and also be there when I have a breakdown. I’m an impatient fellow and tend to lose my focus easily. I’d like to request music box and dark box uwu. That’s it! Thanks! And sorry again for the earlier request! Love your blog! (😁)

♡︎ matchup for 😁anon

heya howdy doodle doo! how're you? i hope you didn't get too tired of waiting and actually see this. hehe. i gave these results lots of thought so i'm happy if you like them too!

akatsuki no yona: i match you with . . .

jae-ha !!

• you guys match so well i can't— your zodiacs, mbti, personality and your type of person are simply pointing at Jae-ha with a big red arrow!

• Jae-ha is chill and social by nature. that paired with your love for talking with people makes you a really social couple. i can easily picture the two of you being the life of most conversations.

• also when there's a crisis or any more serious situation going on you're both usually the ones to calm others down. your presence makes them feel at ease and honestly Jae-ha admires that so much in you ♡︎

• he knows he can trust you with his burdens and count on you to be there for him. he may not always voice them out loud but you know he needs your comfort when he silently lays his head on your shoulder.

• of course this goes both ways and he will never let you be alone during a breakdown. somehow he always finds the right things to say or do to help you find yourself again. his voice is deep and soothing and he will happily put it to use if it makes you feel at ease.

• though he does have a sharper intuition when it comes to strangers and therefore makes sure nobody takes advantage of you. however there was definitely one time where he let you buy something extremely overpriced just to tease you about it later

• the worse the scam the more poisonous the words he speaks to them with that lazy smile. then he escorts you away while waving a hand.

• "you have to be more careful, flower. i don't want some guy eventually making you give your heart away too, " he flirts

• "too late," you respond. "this one green-haired guy with stupid jokes already has it."

• BOOM

• ahem.

• at first you thought he was the worst case of a womanizer, and you preferred your possible partner to reciprocate your loyalty. unfortunately otherwise he was just your type so you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

• Jae-ha was attracted to you too from your smart and fun personality to your hobbies and taste in music. he loved how you stood your ground yet how flexible you were with your likes.

• obviously he didn't give up on you despite your little façade. he proved his loyalty runs deeper than most when he's fallen for the right person. you're his special, dear person and won't let anything or anyone come between that.

• will wear matching dark outfits with you! claims it's not his style but likes it surprisingly a lot. you might do ridiculous poses just to embarrass Hak.

• can be heckin annoying when it comes to your writing though. "are you going to write me into your story? of course you are ;)" "is the main character me?" don't get him wrong, he adores your writing and that's why he gets so excited about it. other times he does it on purpose to get your attention smh

• overall, light-headed teasing is something he will always do just to see you flustered. it's so adorable he can't help it. leaning in extra close to you while you're cooking together, highkey boasting about you to his friends, starting and winking at you, plus all sorts of cheesy one-liners.

• but Jae-ha is smart and knows when to give you space. when you're ready to interact again he's already prepared for a date!

• Jae-ha is romantic even on daily basis, bringing you flowers or small trinkets that he knows you like. just seeing you smile at his loving gestures makes his cheeks warm and heart beat fast (though he tries not to show it)

• please listen to him playing the erhu, he does it especially for you. when you're out on a rooftop on a moonlit night he'll serenade you with his songs.

• your dates include: walks around the outskirts of towns, moongazing, him leaping through the sky with you securely in his arms, dinner at different inns and travens with music and parties or by a bonfine and you two just being silly. also creative activities like pottery and sketching ♡︎

❦︎ ink box

— this happened before your relationship even started, back when Jae-ha first realised his feelings for you.

— you wouldn't expect it, but he struggled with these emotions a lot. this was the first time he had ever felt this way towards anybody, after all. his natural reaction was to distance himself from you because he was scared, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

— he was afraid of being tied down and tying you down. he knew love required commitment and you valued loyalty. he dreaded he wouldn't be good enough for you, instead becoming the source of your pain. you deserved much more than he was, and he was a coward.

— there was also the problem of putting you in danger because of the group's mission. any injury you'd get would be his fault and that was too much a thought to bare.

— he thought he was being smooth avoiding you, preparing for his leave without hurting you. he thought. but you were smarter, you knew Jae-ha was kind. he wouldn't do this to hurt you—not after all those fun memories you'd made together!

— refusing to beat around the bush, you tried confronting him. however, by that time he'd already set out to the next destination. he had left, without a word of goodbye.

— thankfully, Zeno was the quickest to notice Jae-ha's broken demeanor. it was heartbreak which he himself knew too well. he pulled the green dragon aside the next evening as they were gathering wood and stubly hinted Jae-ha shouldn't do anything he would regret for the rest of his life.

— the rest of the gang was quick to join after Kija happened to overhear the conversation. they all (even Ao) swore to take care of you if Jae-ha wouldn't be able to.

— you were halfway up the mountain chasing after him when Jae-ha landed directly in front of you. he was out of breath and dishevelled but the desperate glint in his eye shone brighter than any star in the sky.

— you embraced and shared a sweet kiss under the night sky. he apologised more times than you could count but after almost shattering your heart you didn't let him off the hook that easily. well, he had the rest of his life with you to make it up to you ♡︎

♡︎ runner up: Hak

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

haikyuu: i match you with . . .

rintaro suna !!

• Suna is a little different from the previous match but my instincts told me to put you together regardless! i think your personalities balance each other out while sharing the same core basics.

• you're both laid-back and have no problems interacting with people but still like your alone time. as in infp you seek new knowledge and Suna, being the smartass he is, will never bore you. he can be both silent and talkative, whichever you prefer.

• will definitely join you in being social but in a subtle way. he'll stand/sit next to you with an arm around you while you're talking to your friends. really chill but also knows how to hold a conversation and chime in with a clever comment.

• once he notices you becoming tired he casually steers you away from the rest, saying you two have to go now. how is this guy so smooth? really though he just wants to be alone together with you.

• you guys met when your social groups came together. it's that 'friend of a friend of a friend' chain and thus somehow you ended up going to one of his games because a person you knew didn't want to go alone.

• they knew Kita so y'all went to congratulate him on the win later. he then introduced you the team and therefore, of course, Suna.

• you thought he was pretty and you chatted a bit but nothing much happened. it was through these continuous meetings afterward that eventually pshed you two together ♡︎

• you had so much to talk about! stories, technology, hobbies, music, a little gossip. he liked how opinionated you were and how much you knew, then found it amusing how easily distracted you got.

• his advances were really subtle yet continuous and efficient! though some of them were kind of teasing. made sure you were comfortable with your friendship first before stating his exact feelings for you.

• Suna isn't afraid of pda and if you are too, he'll be holding your hand, having you sit on his lap, giving you kisses on your face and hand. yet although others mifht see, it feels as though every touch is a secret language meant for bust the two of you.

• his advice is quite blunt but he does it out of love, plus his actions are much softer and really patient when you're at rock-bottom. i assure you anyone neglecting your feelings is not safe.

• you're both into dark-themed stuff! y'all go to movies, festivals, bookshops and alike looking so hella aesthetic, i swear. what a beautiful couple (☆ω☆)

• your pets love Suna after they've gotten used to him. sometimes when he comes over the cats will come chill around him. it's like he's one of them and it's hilarious. you have a bunch of pictures on your phone of him and your dog.

• you like showing those photos off to his teammates because they're just that good, but instead of getting embarrassed Suna will either just agree or jokingly ask why haven't you made it your background yet.

• overtime he's learnt how to keep your focus from going too astray, though you can't say he's always vigilant himself. he slacks off during boring lectures and would much rather talk to you. the teacher had to seperate you pfft—

• can and will jam to all times of music with you in the kitchen, even if just ironically. one time his little sister caught the two of you vibing to an opera preformance and homeboy just shrugged it off and continued because you both thought it was funny.

• your dates include: going on hikes especially after a stressful period (Suna most definitely did not look up the best places near your home and prepared your favorite snacks), cat cafés, staying at home and cooking a meal cause this boy probably only knows how to pour water over noodles, and long drives and blasting music ♡︎

♫︎ music box

— I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

— Caroline by Crash Adams

— Blinding Lights by The Weekend

— Your Dog Loves You by Colde

— Hey Boy by Sia (what you'd jokingly lip-sync to for him)

♡︎ runner up: Atsumu Miya

thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for the huge delay (ಥ﹏ಥ) still, i hope you enjoyed! have a lovely day and please stay safe ♡︎

#len's matches #matchups #😁anon #haikyuu matchups #akayona matchups