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multimilfs · 3 years

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Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: A Little Nudge

Summary: Anon requested “Could I request a slightly angsty Miranda Priestly X Reader? Maybe the reader is in the hospital (it's up to you why they're there) and they're panicking because they think they're gonna get fired. Miranda can replace them within the hour, after all.Miranda shows up to the hospital after hearing what happened and reassures Reader that they're fine. She confesses to the Reader because she was so scared something horrible had happened to them and she was gonna lose them. (sorry im just in a sad mood and im weak for hospital scenes)”

A/N: It’s been ages since I’ve written for TDWP so be kind to me, please! I really hope you like it!

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

Warning(s): None

“Why is nobody ready?”

Miranda drawled from behind her desk, glancing at her watch with annoyance. Everyone near her held their breath; nobody having the guts to tell her that it was because you weren’t back yet.

You were supposed to be back with the accessories from D&G ten minutes ago.

Jocelyn and the run-through team exchanged terrified glances. Someone was going to lose their job today. And knowing Miranda, it was going to be one of them.

They had been relying on the accessories to complete the outfits they’d prepared. An abysmal thing to do, but you’d promised that you would be back early. Now you were nowhere to be found.

Miranda was conveniently unaware of your absence. She was under the impression you weren’t supposed to be back for some time, thanks to a few carefully worded statements from Nigel. If she got wind that you’d gone awol, it’d be hell on earth for everyone in the Runway offices.

Standing beside Miranda’s desk, Nigel saw Serena approach the office. The model stopped when Nigel shook his head. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Talk to Emily.” He mouthed silently.

She did just that, turning elegantly on her heel to see the Brit dialing numbers frantically. Poor Emily hadn’t even noticed that Serena was there.

“Why is Nigel telling me to talk to you?” Serena asked softly.

Emily startled slightly, before looking relieved to have some type of help. She put the phone down on the hook quickly.

“Y/N has vanished,” Emily whispered, “I can’t get her to answer her bloody cell phone and she was supposed to be here ages ago!”

“What do you mean she vanished? She doesn’t vanish.�� Serena asked.

“You’re telling me. Jocelyn needed the accessories from the winter collection for the run-through and she promised to have them here. Miranda is two minutes from firing them all if we don’t come up with an excuse.”

Emily let her head fall into her hands, repeating her low mantra that she loved her job. Today was not going to be an easy one, it seemed.

A moment before Serena could suggest anything, Miranda’s cold voice echoed from her office.

“So what I’m hearing is that you failed to prepare? After I gave you countless days to finish a simple task.” Miranda asked.

Everyone winced at the chill in her voice. La Priestly wasn’t known for being warm, but this felt like frost-bite.

“We’re just missing the accessories for a few of the outfits.” Jocelyn offered.

Miranda’s hard gaze settled on the girl, making her regret speaking. Drawing attention to herself was the last thing she should have done.

“‘Just’ the accessories,” The editor said dryly, “If you were to go skydiving, I’m sure you’d be fine without a parachute then?”

Jocelyn shook her head quickly. The only way out of this would be for a miracle to strike. She was mentally kissing her job goodbye.

Then Emily’s cell phone rang.

Scrambling for the device, she could have jumped for joy to see your name on the caller ID. She was furious, mind you, but glad to see you were okay.

“Where the bloody hell are you?” Emily hissed in lieu of a greeting.

“Em, I can explain-“

“I’m sure you can, but it better be good or I’m throwing you La Priestly.”

“I’m in the hospital.” You said.

Emily inhaled sharply. She didn’t miss the way your voice cracked over those few words. It may mean more work for her, but an injury like that could cost you your job.

“What did you get yourself into?” Emily asked.

“The heat today exascerbated something and I collapsed, the doctors are running tests now.” You explained softly, lacking the energy you normally had.

Serena watched worriedly as Emily put her forehead down on the desk, letting out a defeated sigh. This felt like the icing on the cake of an already terrible day. She had no idea how to break it to Miranda. The woman was practically reliant on you and your abilities.

“Em?” You whispered over the line brokenly, “Tell Miranda I can have my desk cleared once I’m d-discharged, okay? I understand-“

“No. You-You don’t get to abandon me so close to Paris. I’ll find a way to fix this…”

“It’s okay. I understand what it takes to be one of Miranda’s girls. Collapsing on the job isn’t part of the description.”

“She can make an exception.” Emily snapped.

You sighed on the other end. It broke your heart that you’d probably lose everything now, but you understood that Miranda was far too busy to accept an injured assistant. Even if you did hope that she cared enough to keep you on.

“Do what you can, okay? Just don’t get yourself sacked. I’m at Presbeterian, room 311.”

There were a few more words exchanged before Emily hung up the phone, looking hard at Serena, who stared back with concern.

“Y/N is in the hospital.” She said quietly.

Serena stood with a look of shock on her face. What could have happened to put you in the hospital?

“How are you going to tell Miranda?” She asked instead.

“Beats me, but someone has to.” Emily laughed bitterly.

She stood and walked to the doorway of Miranda’s office, where the woman was regaling Nigel with the incompetence of her staff, who were standing in the room. Nigel noticed Emily and raised an eyebrow in question, to which she shook her head. His face seemed to pale.

Unsure of what to do or say, Emily remained standing in the doorway. She kept her hands clasped in front of her to keep from ringing them.

“Is there a reason for your hovering, Emily?” Miranda asked, her icy gaze resting on her poor assistant.

“Um, well.” She tried, but nothing came out. She froze.

“Do take your time. None of us have jobs to do.”

The editor rolled her eyes, a devious smirk resting on her face. She drew a sort of horrible glee from seeing her employees squirm.

“Y/N is in the hospital.” Serena said.

Any movement in the room stopped immediately. The run-through team held their breath, looking to Miranda.

Upon hearing the words, Miranda felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her hands gripped the edge of her desk hard. Besides something happening to her daughters, something happening to you had become her worst nightmare.

“Excuse me?” She asked, tone just above a whisper.

“She’s conscious, she called to let me know herself where she was,” Emily rushed out, before anyone could make the situation worse, “Something occurred that caused her to collapse, but-“

“I’ve heard enough.”

Miranda was out of her seat the second Emily mentioned that you were awake. That you weren’t gravely injured or in a coma. Her fear eased slightly, but it wouldn’t vanish until she saw you. She was barreling through the office without a care for what was on her agenda.

“Cancel any meetings for the rest of the day and get Roy here immediately. I want access to her room upon my arrival; I don’t care what favors you have to promise or whose egos you have to stroke, get me into that room.”

She snatched her coat and purse from Serena’s hands, rattling off the demands without slowing her pace. Then she was ensconced in the elevator while everyone looked at one another in shock.

“Do you think she’s going to fire her?” Emily asked Nigel, who laughed.

“I think that is the last thing she plans on doing. Now I’d get on the phone with Roy…”

Eyes widening, Emily let out a yelp, rushing towards her desk. Nigel just shook his head; of course Miranda would hold out on her feelings until you fell injured. She apparently just needed that final nudge.

———

In your hospital room, you were trying valiantly to hold back tears. Your head was leant back against the pillows, eyes closed. All you could see was Miranda’s face in your mind.

You weren’t sure what happened; one second you were walking down 35th, the next a paramedic was standing over you hounding you for information. If you hadn’t been in an ambulance racing through traffic, you would have demanded they let you out. You had a job to do.

Now, you couldn’t. You had let down the editorial team and Miranda by proxy. It hurt you in a million different ways, but you accepted that you were out of a job. That you would no longer spend the days around the woman you secretly loved.

It sent a pang of pain through your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut against it. Remaining strong, even now, was important to you. It wouldn’t do to let your resolve crumble.

Absentmindedly, you heard someone walk into your room. You let out a loud sigh.

“Look, doc, I told you I’m fine. My head may be throbbing, but I’m not going to die on you. Though I may if I don’t get something other than hospital food.” You laughed.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

You snapped your eyes open at the voice that was clearly not your doctor’s. Standing there, looking divine as ever, was Miranda Priestly. The woman you were hopelessly in love with.

“Miranda?”

“No, Donald Trump.” She deadpanned, a smirk pulling at her mouth.

Did Miranda Priestly just make a joke? Your mind asked, though you couldn’t stop the grin that spread on your face. She looked pleased at your reaction.

“You didn’t have to come all this way, you know,” You said softly, reality creeping back in, “I told Emily that I could have my desk cleared as soon as they discharged me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Miranda said, feeling as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs.

“I know how busy your schedule is- Hell, I arranged it. You didn’t have to come all the way here to let me go.”

“Is that why you think I’m here? To fire you?”

“...Isn’t it?”

Miranda let out a hollow sounding laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. You watched her with thinly veiled confusion. Then she walked to your bedside, hesitantly placing her hand on top of yours. Your heart stopped.

“Silly girl,” Miranda said softly, “Do you think I would come here for something as menial as that? Do you think I’d race here, heart pounding with fear, to fire you?”

You felt like you were in a dream. Given that you were in a hospital, it didn’t seem too outlandish that you were imagining it. But when Miranda leant in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, you knew this was reality. This was no mere dream.

She made to pull away from you, offended at your lack of response, but you wouldn’t let her. Grabbing the lapels of her blazer, you dragged her lips back to yours for a long kiss.

When you finally separated, you felt like you were riding a cloud. This was never what you expected to happen. It was wilder than your wildest dreams.

“So… I take it I’m not fired?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

And so overcome with happiness, Miranda let her normal mask drop, throwing her head back and letting out a joyful laugh.

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #tdwp #the devil wears prada #miranda priestly imagine #tdwp imagine #tdwp x reader #the devil wears prada imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #jan2021 #multimilfswritings

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hoe-doroki · 3 years

Note

Hi there! I don't think I've requested anything from you before ( my memory is awful though)

Anyhow I was wondering if I could get some Izuku smut with a female reader.

The scene is youre out with your girls, ( mina, hagakure, Momo) at the club having a good time. You see this green eyed stranger looking at you across the room.

His boys hype him up to ask you to dance and it ends up turning into following him back home ( I LIVE for soft dom! Deku!)

Thanks for taking the time to read and answer this!

Ugh, sorry this took so long, nonnie! You sent this in just as I was being eaten alive by a fic that’s wayyyyy longer than it needs to be. But I’m here now and you said the magic words: soft dom. Yesssss. I went college!AU for this and I hate clubs (drinking, dancing, flirting, no thanks) so I projected that on the reader a bit. Oopsie! It was hard to keep Izuku in character for this, but I did my best. Anyway, hope you like!

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, Kaminari and M*neta leering, spanking, slight exhibitionism, alcohol (not drunk sex, though), dirty talk

rating: explicit, 18+

wc: 5k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Sometimes people looked at you, Mina, Momo, and Tooru and wondered how you were friends. People who had only known each of you as you were in college could never put it together. But the answer was simple: you’d been friends since high school. You were rapidly becoming different people, but those three were still your girls through and through.

That was how you, Mina, Tooru, and Momo ended up in the club that day. Two friends who really wanted to go—Mina and Tooru—and two friends who really didn’t—you and Momo. These things happen when you become friends years before you could be allowed in any club. Your college friends never would have invited you on an excursion like this—hell, none of them would ever be seen at a club either. But when Mina and Tooru showed up at your door begging you to go out and experience your twenties, you couldn’t say no. Now you were spilling out of the car Mina had called and walking on high heeled booties to a club you’d heard of but never been to.

“Obviously you actually wanted to go, Momo, otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing a top like that.”

Tooru wasn’t hiding the fact that she was ogling Momo’s very prominently displayed chest, all but bursting out of the deep v-neck she had paired with a short skirt.

“It’s only sensible for me to wear a top like this,” Momo said, her voice firm despite awkward fidgets to put her breasts a little more away. “Places like these are so hot that a shirt with a higher neckline would be soaked with cleavage sweat in a minute.”

“Mhmm, right,” Tooru said, flouncing away in her own crop top and shorts, eager to enter the club.

You’d gone simple, just tossing on a bodycon dress that you’d ordinarily pair with a sweater and tights, but that Mina had convinced you to wear on its own tonight. You crossed your arms, the chill of the evening seeping past the thin fabric even just in the short time it took to get from the heated car to the sweaty bar.

Tooru had run to the door and was nearly bouncing, waiting for the rest of you to catch up. Mina jogged over to her, looking the coolest of all of you in her black mesh crop top with nothing but a bra underneath and shorts that had the lacy scalloped hem of her underwear peaking out the top of. You hurried after them, just eager to get out of the cold. Tooru whipped the door open and the three of you piled in all at once, flashed your IDs, and then you were in.

The sound of the bass had thrummed loudly even outside, but once inside, your senses were overloaded. The music was deafening, the smell of alcohol bitter and heady, and the heat of sweaty bodies oppressive as Mina grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd.

Even with Mina clearing the way, you had to elbow your way to the bar. This was the easiest part of the night—a task, something to do aside from trying and failing to work up the nerve to dance. Over the music, you yelled, “Whiskey ginger, well is fine,” to the bartender and turned to your girlfriends.

Mina and Tooru were already swinging their hips as they waited for their drinks, shimmying against each other to the beat. You and Momo were a little stiffer, not quite having the nerve or confidence to let your bodies be taken by the music.

“Girl’s night!” Mina cheered once everyone had a drink in hand. Glasses clinked and Tooru took a healthy gulp of her drink

“Can’t dance if you’re worried about spilling your drink,” Tooru said.

“Not with that attitude!” Mina said. She thrust her beer bottle in the air and then grabbed Tooru’s hand and the two of them stumbled into the mass of writhing bodies.

“You gonna follow them?” Momo asked, chewing on the straw of her drink.

“Not yet.” You had to shuffle away from the bar to make room for other patrons, moving to lean against one of the walls. “Maybe a bit of liquid courage.”

“It probably would have been wiser to do shots.”

You looked around, noticing how many people were already sending glances Momo’s way. You could draw direct lines all around the room between men’s leering eyes and Momo’s partially exposed chest, already beginning to glisten with sweat. You pursed your lips. It was nice to have Momo around as a fellow shy dancer, but it was discouraging to always be the one next to the prettiest girl in the room. People were looking right through you.

“You’ll probably get some sent your way soon enough,” you muttered.

“What?” Momo asked, her voice loud over the music.

“Nothing!” you replied. You squeezed the lime wedge into your drink and swirled it, drinking thirstily.

You hoped for one of two things. For the night to pass by quickly or for, unlikely though it was, something exciting to happen. Bars and clubs were predictable. Just once, you wanted to be surprised.

“Woah, look at her.”

Midoriya tried and failed to follow his friend’s gaze into one of the dark corners of the bar. Mineta was a good foot shorter than Midoriya, so it was hard to tell exactly where his line of sight was taking him. Kaminari seemed to hone in right away, though, pointing eagerly at the wall near the bar.

“Good find, Mineta,” Kaminari said. “Damn she’s hot.”

Midoriya followed Kaminari’s finger and noticed two girls huddled close together, sipping their drinks and observing the crowd, occasionally leaning over to talk to each other. One was dressed in a top and skirt and the other in a tight dress. The second girl’s hips were moving to the beat just slightly, as though she might not even know herself that she was doing it. She laughed at something her friend said, smile opening wide and fearlessly.

“Wow,” Midoriya said, eyes locked on her.

“What, did Mineta finally find a girl to meet your ridiculously high standards?” Kaminari asked, clapping Midoriya on the back.

“Maybe,” Midoriya murmured, watching as she waved to some other girls in the crowd.

“About time,” Mineta said. “I’ve never seen more perfect tits in my life.”

That snapped Midoriya out of his focus and he looked down at his friend, whose eyes were unblinking, scarily locked straight ahead. “What?”

“That plunging neckline perfectly showing what it would look like if I had my hands on either side of them,” he continued, his voice distant. Luckily, Kaminari smacked him upside the head.

“If you’re saying it loud enough to be heard over the music, you’re saying it too loud,” Kaminari chastised. “Besides, if Midoriya finally found a girl he likes, you should give him first dibs.”

“What?” Mineta asked, turning towards Kaminari, outraged.

“Wait, wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Midoriya said, waving his hands in front of him before his friends could have it out. “The girl I was looking at isn’t wearing a plunging neckline. Look there.”

Midoriya pointed in your direction as subtly as he could, smiling as he caught another glimpse of your beautiful laugh.

“Oh, her friend,” Mineta said.

“Yeah, that tracks,” Kaminari added, looking between Midoriya and you. “Well, you should go for it, man! Try your luck!”

Midoriya looked at Kaminari, brows furrowed. “Did you guys invite me just to get me laid or something?”

“Of course not,” Mineta said. “Your innocent face makes us look less like two fuckboys and the girls will trust us more. You’re our cover.”

“Purely selfish reasons then, okay,” Midoriya muttered. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go talk to her.”

“Do it!” Kaminari said, giving you a thumbs up. He kicked the back of Midoriya’s calf and sent him tumbling into the crowd. Amidst a song of sorrys, Midoriya made his uncertain way toward you.

Three men had already tried their luck with Momo in as many songs. She’d kindly refused each advance—no level of drunkenness had ever led Momo to so much as a sloppy makeout and you weren’t sure how many times hell would have to freeze over for that to change. You joked about each of the guys and their sad pick-up attempts, but, still, it had you feeling low. None of the guys even pretended to be interested in you. They went straight for Momo, trying their darndest to keep their eyes on hers and not drift south.

“Hello, uh, miss…”

You nearly rolled your eyes as you looked up from your drink, half gone already, to find another sucker that Momo would have to reject. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were struck by how different this one was from the others. He didn’t look like the usual meathead dude-bro who swung by. He had a round face and freckles smattered under the roundest green eyes you’d ever seen. He looked sheepish already, anticipating the rejection he’d get from talking to a girl so far out of his league.

You felt the jolt of an elbow in your ribs and looked at Momo who was giving you intense eyes, eyebrows raised. She looked at you and then at the boy with the green hair, tilting her head, and suddenly you realized that you were “miss.”

“Oh, hello,” you said, unable to hide the confusion on your face.

“I’m Izuku,” the man said, smiling softly at you. “Would you, um, care to dance?”

You smiled. It sounded like this boy was expecting a waltz instead of the hips that were grinding against each other in the middle of this dance floor.

“I’m… not sure,” you said, so unfamiliar with the procedure here that you were floundering. “You see, I don’t really dance.”

The boy breathed out what looked to be a sigh of relief and you suddenly noticed the muscles bulging under his t-shirt. His cute, innocent face was hiding a man who was seriously stacked. “The truth is, I don’t usually dance either. I was pressured into coming here by some friends.”

You looked over at Momo. “We know the feeling.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t get your names,” Izuku said, suddenly looking between the two of you.

Momo looked at you for a second then said, “I’m Momo and this is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Izuku.”

“You as well,” Izuku said to Momo before turning back to you. “You know, the thing about dancing is that if you just start and let go of everything, it can actually be kind of fun.”

This boy sounded just like Mina, the same argument she made every time she dragged you and Momo to one of these things. Sometimes you managed to let your guard down enough to enjoy it, sometimes not.

“It’s also more fun with someone else.”

Izuku was looking at you hopefully, and that just made his eyes even wider, such a dark forest green in the dim light of the club. You could feel yourself being pulled to him, like a string between you growing taut when Momo put a hand on your arm. “I’ll hold your drink and just come back when you want it, okay?”

Momo was giving you an intent gaze and you knew she was offering you an out. Try dancing with the boy and, if it wasn’t turning out well, say that you needed to go back to your friend. Easy.

“Okay,” you said, taking one more sip before handing your drink off to her. Then you extended you hand toward Izuku, who took it with his broadest smile yet, and led you into the mosh pit.

There was no sign of Mina or Tooru anywhere, haven fallen invisible in the throng of people. So it was just you and Izuku and a hundred strangers, all feeling the music sync with their heartbeats and then their hips, sending them moving.

You started facing each other, your hips moving from side to side, the rhythm slowly moving up so that your shoulders were shimmying, head bobbing. Izuku grinned, bopping along excitedly. He wasn’t a smooth dancer, not cool or rhythmic, but he didn’t seem to care. He put his hands lightly on your hips, encouraging you to move a little more. Asking you to let go.

You let your hips follow his touch and laughed when he rocked you from side to side, totally out of line with anything that might be sensual or suggestive. It was silly and you realized that maybe you’d been putting too much pressure to look a certain way, to be a certain kind of person. Music was for everyone, dancing was for everyone. Izuku seemed to know that already.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, giving yourself into the joy as the two of you rocked, free of expectation or anyone else’s experience. Before you knew it, the music had changed, the next song slightly slower, and your motions smoothed out to match. Izuku slid one of his hands back into yours and raised it over your head, initiating a turn. You went along and the next thing you knew, your back was pressed against his muscular chest, hips moving in tandem.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Mhmm.”

You could feel all corners of him pressed against you and you couldn’t help but push back into him. His chest was broader than it seemed, and you could feel the crease of his pecs, of his abs. His hands were on your hips, strong arms brushing your sides. You brought one hand up to touch his bare bicep, feeling how hard it was even unflexed.

Suddenly, you could feel Izuku’s breath on your jaw, the flutter of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, exposing the long column of your neck to him. He took that as invitation enough and pressed a kiss to it. He kissed up to your jawline and just behind your ear. He gave the lightest of sucks before you pulled away and offered him your mouth.

He took it eagerly, your lips moving at the same pace as your gyrating hips. You lost yourself in the feeling, the anonymity of kissing, hidden in a crowd of people. The rhythmic dance of your hips lulling you into a kind of easy complacency as you felt Izuku’s hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips against his. The other one crept forward on your thigh, awfully close to your center, to the hem of your too-short skirt. He never breached either line, though. Just kept his hand there, suggesting where it could go.

“Come home with me,” you whispered when you separated for breath.

“What?” Izuku asked, face flushed, voice just carrying over the music.

You twisted back around so that you were face to face so that you could press your lips right up against his ear. “Come home with me, Izuku.”

You called for a car and sent Momo a text saying that you were going home. You hoped that Momo, Mina, and Tooru wouldn’t want to come back to your shared home anytime soon—Momo was smart enough to figure that out herself.

Twenty minutes later and you were home, you were horny, and you had someone willing and able to solve that.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” Izuku asked while you unlocked the door and ushered him in, kicking off your shoes as quickly as you could.

“Half a drink,” you said quickly. “You?”

“None.”

“Perfect,” you said, and you wrapped your arms around him once again, pulling him in for a kiss.

Izuku did you one better, grabbing hold of your thighs and picking you up like you weighed nothing. Your dress rose up over your hips and your center fell right against his crotch, grinding into it.

You were ready to give directions to your room, but Izuku didn’t carry you further than the living room before slamming your back against a wall and pressing his hips into yours. You gasped at the impact, but it was nothing painful—just surprising. Izuku dug his fingers into your thighs and said, “You seemed awfully eager for this. Desperate enough to handle a little roughness, princess? Or did you think this was gonna be easy?”

The epithet of princess send your heart plunging to your core, heat spreading throughout you. His voice was low, much lower than it had been at the club and your thighs clenched around him. “I thought…maybe…”

He’d been so sweet at the club, shy almost. You tasted his tongue on yours and he hadn’t been lying—no alcohol. The only taste passing between the two of you was the tang from your whiskey ginger. But now his grip on you and the low growl in his voice was telling you another story.

“Do you wanna be rough or do you wanna be a little princess? Or maybe both?”

“Both,” you keened desperately, breathlessly.

“I shoulda known, you grinding down on my cock like that,” he said, nibbling your exposed neck. “Can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?”

He pulled back so you slid an inch down the wall, but his grip was tight enough to keep you from falling any further. Then his hips slammed back into yours, as though you were fucking already.

“Shit,” you whispered as he bit down on your collarbone.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want,” he said. “If you’re not, it’s going to be a very long night.”

That half threat was almost enough to trigger your backtalk, see exactly what he had in mind to turn this night into a long one. But, by the same coin, you wanted to see what he had planned already.

“I’m good,” you whimpered.

“You are?” Izuku asked. “Prove it.”

He pressed his chest into yours, and you felt your breasts flatten against his pecs, your ribs trapped from a deep breath by his thick forearms.

“Strip and suck my cock.”

You unwrapped your legs from his waist and he released you to the ground. Your dress was stretchy and off in an instant, thrown to the floor, panties soon to follow. Then you were on your knees undoing his dark jeans and pulling out his long, plump cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, stroking your hair.

Preening at the praise, you wrapped your lips around your teeth, and swallowed him as far as you could go in one go. You wanted to be a good girl, after all.

“Shit,” Izuku said, keeping a light grip on the back of your head, but letting you do what you want, setting your own pace. You wasted no time with playful licks and kisses, immediately bobbing your head up and down and stroking the rest with your hand.

The noises that Izuku made, little huffs and whines, were cute, showing glimpses of the shy boy who had approached you at the club. He took off his shirt and you could see his abs in all their glory, even better than you’d imagined. As you sucked him off, you brought a hand up to the ridges of his lower abs and rubbed lightly, enjoying the hard muscle. After a trip down to his balls, sucking one into his mouth and you kept up your firm strokes, Izuku pulled you off, breathing heavily.

“That’s good. You’ve proven that you’re a good girl, princess.”

“I did?” you asked shyly, giving his cock a long lick just to make sure.

“Yes,” Izuku shuddered. “Stand against the wall.”

“Here?” you asked.

There were windows all over your living room, giving a clear view to the street and, more importantly, from the street into your apartment. More than that, there was no telling when your housemates would get home and, even if they knew you’d brought a boy home, they’d hardly expect him to be fucking you in the living room.

“Was I unclear, princess?”

“No,” you said, and you went to stand facing the wall. Izuku came up behind you and knocked your legs further apart, and then reached in front of you, rubbing two fingers from your slit up to your clit in a couple firm strokes. You gasped, your head falling forward, but before you could get used to the rough touch, he was gone.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked casually.

“In my nightstand,” you said, moving to stand straight. He pushed your hands back against the wall, warning you not to move.

“Which room is yours?”

“The far one on the left,” you said, only turning your head to look over your shoulder.

“Good,” he said. “Don’t move.”

Then he was gone, leaving you naked, legs spread in your living room. You could feel how drenched you were—Izuku had taken a whole globule of your wetness and spread it all over your pussy. Now, standing spread, you could feel the cold air from the room on you when all you wanted was heat.

Izuku took his time in coming back, slow footfalls making their way back to the living room. You saw a box of condoms drop on the couch next to you and heard the telltale sound of one of the packages being ripped open. The next thing you knew, Izuku’s hands were on your hips, just like at the club, only now his cock was free, sliding in the slick of your pussy.

You gasped, pushing harder against the wall and thrusting your ass back toward Izuku. “Please,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you don’t have to ask,” Izuku said casually. “I know exactly what your slutty pussy wants. I can feel it dripping all over my cock. And you’ve been very good, princess, but that doesn’t mean that you’re in charge. Understand?”

“Yes, Izuku.”

You were pushed forward by the sudden force of a slap against your ass, then Izuku’s chest pressing firmly back into yours, his teeth by your ear. “Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

“That’s better.”

He went back to thrusting, one of his hands snaking around your front, through your curls to spread your lips. Your puffy clit was exposed to the air and Izuku’s fingers spreading the skin provided just the slightest bit of pressure, but not nearly enough. You whined, bending more into him, aching for more contact than the occasional brush of his cock skating across your clit. But you wanted to be a good girl too.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Izuku said, his thrusts coming to a stop as the head of his cock butterflied your opening. “You’ve been very patient. Are you ready for your reward?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You groaned in relief as he split you open, sinking into you just as he pulled his fingers in a hard, slow stroke up your clit.

“You like that, princess?” Izuku asked, making his thrusts slow and deep, his finger’s strokes on your clit languid and intentional.

“Yes,” you moaned, rocking your weight back onto your heels as you met Izuku’s every plunge.

“You feel so good,” Izuku said, his voice becoming softer and more breathy as he got lost in the feel of you. His right hand began spinning circles on your clit, the left wrapped around your middle, fingertips rubbing almost tenderly along your side.

You could only pant, leaning your head back on his shoulder as Izuku’s thrusts sped up, your climax rising within you. “Fuck,” you murmured as his left hand fell to your hip, changing the angle so that he was now pounding your g-spot with every go. He continued like that for a minute, each hit bringing you higher and higher until he suddenly stopped.

“What?” you asked, and the next thing you knew, you were being pushed to the arm of your couch, a hand to the small of your back pressing your spine parallel to the floor, and—before you knew what was happening—he was back in you, going full speed.

You gasped, your head falling down, nipples rubbing against the fabric of the couch as your tits were sent swinging. That sensation caught you, sending fresh sparks through you.

“Are you close, Princess?” Izuku breathed, his quick thrusts breaking his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“Touch yourself, then.”

You followed his instruction immediately, snaking your hand down to your clit and rubbing it with your practiced touch. The feeling of your cold fingers against your scorching clit, Izuku’s hot cock railing in and out of you, and the occasional spark of your nipples rubbing against the couch had you on the edge of your peak in no time.

“You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum on my cock?”

“Yes,” you whispered, the heat in your stomach burning, almost unbearable as you reached your cusp.

“I’m close too, Y/N,” Izuku whispered. “God, you’re so perfect.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto your shoulder just as you shattered around him, keening as you rubbed yourself through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he said, and you felt his thrusts become jagged, barely leaving you every time before plunging balls deep back into you. He shuddered and, before long, he finished too, taking slow, easy thrusts in and out of you before falling fully on your back, wrapping his arms around your middle.

He stayed there for just a moment before pulling out, taking off his condom and knotting it. You’d collapsed onto the arm of your sofa, face falling down the side as you tried to get your breath back under you, the feeling back into your legs.

“Was that too much?” Izuku asked, his voice soft and gentle again as he came in front of you, gently putting his fingers under your chin to bring your face back to him.

“No, that was amazing,” you said.

Izuku smiled and brought your lips to his for a quick kiss. “I’m glad. Where do you keep your water glasses?”

“Cabinet above the sink.”

“Great.”

Izuku gave you another kiss, this time on the cheek, and then he was gone. You stayed still for a few more moments, your breath back in both hands, the heat seeping from your face slowly but steadily. You pressed yourself up, curling your spine like a cat to fight against the deep sway you’d had against the couch and the wall and gave a little shimmy to work out the kinks. You took a quick trip to the bathroom, then you went around and scooped up all the pieces of clothing that had been thrown hither and yon and carted them back to your room. You’d just flipped on the light switch and dropped them in a pile on the floor when Izuku came back with a glass of water and a wash cloth.

“You got up,” he said.

“I just didn’t want my roommates to get home to find me fucked out against the couch,” you said with a smile, taking the glass he handed to you. “We have house rules.”

“That’s fair,” Izuku said as you took a glug of water. “Lie back on the bed.”

His voice was far less demanding than before, but you went along anyway. You set the water glass on the nightstand and then lay down, allowing Izuku to spread your legs. Some of the old heat returned to your face and you looked away from him as he took the washcloth to your center.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he said.

“It’s just different,” you squeaked. “After we’re done…In the full light and you’re just down there looking at me.”

“It’s only for a moment longer,” Izuku said as he cleaned you. True to his word, he took the washcloth away after a moment, pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and said, “You’re beautiful.”

The washcloth was added to the stack of clothes on the floor, and then Izuku was back in front of you, running his fingers lightly along the outside of your thigh.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said softly.

You sat up, putting a hand on his arm. “Stay.”

“Can I?”

His eyes were wide and innocent, like he hadn’t just fucked you raw in plain sight of the neighbors. Like he hadn’t spanked you and called you princess.

“Of course,” you said.

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Cuddling is kind of my favorite part.”

“Is it, now?”

“I’ll prove it,” Izuku said, flipping off the light and climbing into bed behind you as you settled in. Then he had you wrapped tight in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. He let out a deep, satisfied sigh into your neck and said, “It’s just the best.”

“It kind of is,” you said, snuggling back against him.

There were a few more murmurs shared between you two but, slowly, the words fell loose, eyes falling closed. Your breathing evened out, and then there was nothing but Izuku’s arms and breath around yours.

“There’s a box of condoms on the couch!” you heard Mina screech a couple hours later, jolting you out of your deep sleep. You felt Izuku’s arms tighten protectively around you as he too let out a sharp intake of breath. “Our girl fucked!”

“Ooh, what a surprise!” Tooru cheered.

“Out here?” you heard Momo groan, her voice much more tired than Mina’s or Tooru’s.

“Dammit,” you whispered, and Izuku giggled behind you.

“That was my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Shh, just go back to sleep,” you said. “If we wake up early, we can sneak you out before any of them are up.”

“So long as I get to see you again,” Izuku murmured, nuzzling back into your shoulder.

Your chest warmed and you pulled Izuku’s arms closer against you, gripping them tightly before your hold fell lax in sleep. Tooru was right—you’d gotten the surprise you’d wanted.

“Definitely.”

#ask ana #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #not/sfw #mha smut #bnha smut

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mctherofdragons · 4 years

Text

Head Above Water | D.M.

He found you captivating, but not in the way Pansy Parkinson was. Pansy was pretty like the girls in the cinema, but you were captivating like the girls in the Jane Austen novels he secretly read by the fire at Malfoy Manor.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader

Request: A muggle born reader that's always bullied by Crabbe and Goyle, But Draco is always watching her, and he considers her like the purest girl in the universe, but he refuses to leave those feelings bloom thanks to the blood status and shit. One day Goyle brings her to the lake to tease her, and Crabbe pushes her to the water and she starts to drown? Draco is panicking and he comes to rescue, once he brings you there there's fluff and him confessing to her! I love your writing love!!

Trigger Warnings: drowning, near death experience, bullying, mouth-to-mouth

Author’s Note: This request had me all sorts of emotional. We love protective Draco. I didn’t edit this so I apologize for any typos. By the way, friends, requests are open. Please let me know if you’d like to be on my taglist. I have taglists for all Harry Potter universe writings and a Draco Malfoy specific taglist. _______________________________________

Draco mindlessly doodled in the margins of his textbook, barely listening to Slughorn drone on about solutions and ingredients. He wasn’t listening, as the blonde’s mind was almost always on you. He found you captivating, but in the way Pansy Parkinson was. Pansy was pretty like the girls in the cinema, but you were captivating like the girls in the Jane Austen novels he secretly read by the fire at Malfoy Manor. He was entranced by what he couldn’t have. The forbidden fruit, he thought to himself, peering at you across the classroom.

Blood lineage was something that had been ingrained into Draco’s psyche as far as back he could remember. His father would speak to him sternly, explaining how pureblood wizards were of higher esteem. Mudbloods, as Lucius had called them, were nothing more than grime. Draco had taken the only knowledge he’d ever known about blood purity and applied it to his daily actions. He took pride not only in being of ancestry, but of spitting insults on any muggle-born he came across. The only problem was he had never accounted for a girl like you. A girl whose laughter sounded like cardinals landing in trees and whose skin looked like artwork.

After class, he had found himself sitting out by the Black Lake, secretly writing poetry in one of his notebooks. It was the perfect day to be in the tepid fall sunshine, listening to the sound of fellow students chatter and bask in the last few weeks before the snow began to fall. If anyone had known just how soft Draco Malfoy was for you, his reputation would be irredeemable. But in this moment he didn’t much care. He relished in the feeling of the warm autumn breeze dance across his skin as he found ways to describe you, drawing in cursive letters with his quill: she is bewitching, divine, perfect, angelic, everything-I-ever-wanted. Draco heard a bit of a commotion and peaked up. He saw his two friends, Crabbe and Goyle, looming over you. You had been sitting right on the edge of the lake, a blanket spread beneath you. As you had worked away at reading your Defense Against the Dark Arts text, your two most despised bullies had happened upon you and decided to use you for their amusement. Goyle had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder, laughing loudly. “Let’s dump the mudblood in the water like the garbage she is,” Crabbe cheered. You kicked you legs, banging on Goyle’s back to get him to drop you.

“Putrid mudblood,” Goyle laughed despite your protests. All at once, he heaved you into the water. Maybe he was trying to kill you, but the reality was that Goyle likely had no idea just how deep and dangerous the lake truly was. The water was icy cold, sending shock waves of pins and needles all over your body. You were sinking faster than you legs could keep up with. Your surroundings were pitch black and regardless of your efforts, you couldn’t see anything besides the sun which felt a million miles away above you. Your mind raced with thoughts of the creatures you knew lurked beneath the surface. You tried with no avail to paddle upwards toward the light.

Panic had set in as the sweeping realization came over you that perhaps this was how you were going to die. Murdered at Hogwarts by a pureblood - which honestly was not far off from your muggle family’s greatest fear. You closed your eyes for a moment, beginning to lose more air and the inability to continue fighting. You had contently accepted your fate, until you felt an arm sweep around your waist. Your savior was pulling you quickly up toward safety.

You were unconscious by the time you had been laid on the grass. “Oh,” whispered, pulling your mouth open and attaching his. In an effort to save you, Draco did the first thing he could think of - mouth to mouth resuscitation. He was breathing heavy as he attempted to refill your lungs with oxygen from his own. “Come on, beautiful girl,” he begged, taking a deep breath before leaning back down to attach his lips over yours again.

Finally, you began to sputter. You felt yourself be turned you onto your side and let any water you had inhaled come out of your mouth. You turned back over to look at whoever had pulled you from certain death, moving your wet hair from your face slightly. There before you sat a soaking wet Draco Malfoy. His platinum hair was matted down to his head. You gazed over him, taking in the sight of his white button up shirt, which was now opaque and sticking to his skin. Water rolled down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw and onto the ground. He teeth chattered and he shivered a bit as he looked back at you. The autumn air that had once felt pleasant now felt like an artic wind.

“M...Malfoy?,” you coughed, taking a deep gasp in. It was painful to speak.

The blonde cupped your face. His family ring felt glacial against your jaw bone.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

You noted his choice of words. It wasn’t that he had thought you were dead, or that his friend would be in an awful lot of trouble. He thought he’d lost you. The words that came next were perhaps more jolting than the freezing water you’d just come out of.

“Oh, I’m so glad you are alright. You are exquisite, y/n. I love you, long have I loved you,” He said breathlessly. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. If you give me the chance, I’ll protect you forever. I’ve wanted for so long to tell you, and I’ve been a fool for waiting. To think I almost didn’t get my chance...I....”

You cut him off, reaching up to place a finger to his lips. You gazed into his blue eyes, searching for any inking that this was all a part of the grand and horrible stunt that had just been played. But there was no contempt in his irises, rather, just pure adoration of you and everything you were to him.

He leaned down, stopping for a moment to read your eyes, as if to ask for consent. You leaned up, letting his cold lips meet yours. Your body felt warm again as you pressed back into him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip. Just then, you heard the voice of a professor, practically screeching.

“Get her to infirmary! Oh, dear Miss Y\L\N,” she tutted, watching Draco pick you up. You gazed up at him, enamored by being held in his arms.

“I’ll take her,” he said protectively. You felt safe for the first time since starting at Hogwarts six years ago. You felt chosen by someone you didn’t think would in a million lifetimes chose you.

And perhaps, you thought, this makes me feel like I’m dying in the most beautiful way possible.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco #draco x reader #dracotok

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roselightfairy · 3 years

Text

For @carlandrea, who prompted Thranduil + Gimli. I don’t know exactly what I was intending with this, and I have no idea if it makes narrative or emotional sense, but... it’s all for the Atmosphere, baby. Just go with it.

...

Legolas was not often called away for duties when they visited Eryn Lasgalen – not since he had removed to Ithilien and taken the better part of his unit of archers with him. Though he remained yet a prince of Eryn Lasgalen in name, he was lord of Ithilien in deed and in duty, and was treated as such when he returned home.

By his father, at least. His sister had no such reservations, either in the enthusiasm of her greeting or her requests for him upon arrival. She had asked him to accompany her on a brief scouting mission, and – whether out of guilt for having robbed Lasgalen of its most skilled archers, or desire for her company, Gimli knew not – he had agreed. The journey was meant to take them only perhaps a day and a night, and in the meantime Gimli wandered the halls alone.

He had accustomed himself quickly to the caverns where the elves lived: he could find his way under stone well enough, no matter who else might inhabit it. Still, they felt strange to him – instead of the thrumming of warmth that dwarven homes always awoke in his chest – the long-awaited welcome of Erebor; the glorious thrill of Aglarond – these halls rang with an empty loneliness, an ache in his chest as of a missing piece, some long-held sadness. The closest he could come to comparing it was the dimmed ancient glory of Khazad-dûm, but even that was not quite right – there was a diminishing in these halls, an echo of emptiness not of a grandeur now lost, but of a hope never fulfilled. It echoed in his chest, in the sound of his footsteps, flickered in the shadows of ivy on the walls, illuminated by torchlight; it swept across his face in the breeze from the wide windows and skylights.

The halls of Eryn Lasgalen were quiet at night. Elves slept little, so Gimli would have expected bustling, but any reveling that occurred took place out under the stars, and he supposed even elves needed to rest at times. His footsteps were loud on the stone floors, the solid step of a dwarf accustomed to walking where he would, though it felt strangely illicit here, where so few dwarves had been welcome. Gimli was given the freedom to roam where he would in his husband’s home, where his father had been locked away merely for setting foot in the forest, and he felt almost guilty for it, as though he dishonored his father’s trials with every step.

His wandering footsteps took him around a corner, up a set of spiraling steps, and he found himself in a shaded alcove hung with ivy and berries he dared not touch, against a window cut into the stone that looked out over the forest. Gimli folded his arms on the sill and gazed out, noting the rustle of leaves in the darkness, of lights in the distance where elves must be dancing and drinking. He wondered where Legolas was, out there in the forest, beneath the shaded boughs – or among them.

“May I join you?”

The voice came from behind him, practically in his ear; Gimli whirled, nearly choking on his spiking heartbeat. Legolas’s father stood behind him, not as close as he had sounded but still far nearer than he ought to be, for how silently he had approached. He had forgone the crown of leaves tonight; his golden hair streamed loose down his back, and he wore a simple green tunic and a faintly amused smile.

“Of course you may,” said Gimli, his voice rasping as he recovered his breath. “I would not turn you away anywhere in your own halls.”

Thranduil tilted his head as if in acknowledgement of that point and came to join Gimli in gazing out the windows. He left a respectable few inches of space between them, but still Gimli rarely stood so near to Legolas’s father; his nerves hummed in acute awareness of their proximity.

It was silent for a time, and then Thranduil spoke again. “I am sorry to startle you.”

There was just enough upward lilt in his voice, something lighter beneath the dry deadpan, that Gimli risked a flicker of his eyes to the side, a slight incline of his head. “Forgive me, your majesty,” he said, “but I do not think you are.”

Thranduil laughed openly at that, and Gimli restrained a startle at the sound. “Perhaps not,” he allowed. “Sometimes, the temptation to ensure that one has not lost one’s touch is simply . . . irresistible.”

“Perhaps particularly when one is approaching one’s son-in-law?” Gimli suggested, equally dry, and was rewarded with another laugh.

Thranduil’s laughter was more restrained than Legolas’s or even Laerwen’s, as though he were waiting for another punchline, but still the rare mirth felt like a gift – like a sign of favor. “Perhaps,” he said, his smile fading as he turned again out the window. His long fingers came to rest on the sill as though it were an organ and he meant to launch into a piece of music. Like spider legs, Gimli would have once thought them – such was the phrase often used to describe Thranduil in Erebor – in exaggerated tales told after a few drinks only, for Dáin would not condone it. But still it was whispered: the lord of the spiders at the center of a web of greed and deceit.

It was an epithet Gimli would never use again – not after seeing the hatred in Legolas’s eyes when he spoke of the spiders and what all they had taken from his people and his family.

Silence fell between them, but it was not a silence Gimli could read like he could Legolas’s – he knew not whether to speak and break it, or to let it stretch. In absence of intuition, stretch it did, long and taut until something felt about to snap, and finally he could bear it no longer.

“Your halls are beautiful,” he offered, cringing even as the words left his lips. But he had begun, and so he must continue. “The design is like nothing I have seen before.”

“That means much, coming from a dwarf of Erebor,” said Thranduil. His lips pursed, then relaxed. “But even we of the woods make do, when we must.” He gazed out the window again, and Gimli too turned to look out over the woods, the patches of trees light with revelers. He wondered what Thranduil could hear.

Thranduil’s face remained as unreadable as ever, but something in his stance, in the tilt of his head, reminded Gimli abruptly of how Legolas stood when he looked at Ithilien, at the homes elves had built in trees, reveling in their newfound safety. “I know something of making do,” he said slowly. “But I do not think the creation of something beautiful is wholly a loss, even if it comes from sorrow.” He clamped his mouth shut before he could speak further, unsure whose painful memories he might rouse with these words – Thranduil’s, or his own.

Thranduil turned to look sharply at Gimli, his eyes keen as though measuring him. It was not the penetrating stare of the Lady Galadriel, but still Gimli felt somehow tested in his gaze, those cool grey eyes like steel raking over his body. When Thranduil looked away at last, he could not say if he had been found wanting.

“You are more right than even you know, maybe,” Thranduil said at last. “But I will hope for your sake and for Legolas’s that you need never resign yourself to it.” He sighed, and for just a moment his hands tightened their grip on the windowsill, his knuckles flashing white beneath his skin – and then, as though Gimli had imagined it, they were loose again, resting against the stone like on organ keys.

As Gimli floundered for a response, Thranduil straightened beside him, a wave passing through his spine to draw him up even taller than before. “Are you faring well in these halls?” he said. “No one has given you trouble?”

Gimli blinked, shaken by the abrupt change in mood. “Yes,” he said, “yes, everyone is perfectly cordial.” Not perfectly – not with the murmurs in dark corners in the Sindarin that Gimli could understand well enough; not when he sometimes felt a prickle on the back of his neck and heard laughter behind him, though he could not see who followed him. He felt safe enough here, particularly when Legolas was by his side, and that was enough.

“Good.” Thranduil nodded. “Do tell me if at any time our hospitality is less than might be hoped. I would not have my son-in-law treated poorly within my realm.”

“I” – How should he promise to do something he had no intention of doing? “You are kind,” was what he managed at last, a non-answer.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, and Gimli knew he caught it, but what could he say to such an answer? “I am hardly kind,” was his response. “As you have no doubt been reminded. But I do not make commitments lightly.”

“Nor does your son,” Gimli said, before he could think better of it – thinking of the earnestness of every one of Legolas’s promises, how sincerely he held his word. His heart ached at even this brief separation, at this strange conversation with Legolas’s father while his husband was away, and yet he wondered if Legolas’s sincerity was some gift from his father, undiluted by the years of trial and suspicion that shielded Thranduil’s eyes.

“No,” Thranduil said – soft, a rush of air, almost a sigh. “No, he does not.”

The melancholy that rose between them was entirely different now: not an acknowledgement of past suffering but an unspoken shared knowledge of future regrets that neither of them could help – a shared love for one who had set himself firmly on the path to grief, heedless of what either could wish for him. Gimli had known moments like this before – more often with Thranduil’s daughter than with the king himself – of that sudden kinship, that shared silent sorrow. For a moment, it was all he could feel.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the moment was ended and Thranduil had let his hands fall from the sill, stepped back from Gimli’s side. “I will leave you to your thoughts, then,” he said. “Have a pleasant evening, Gimli.”

“And you,” Gimli managed after him, half-stunned in his wake, but Thranduil gave no indication he had heard him but a half-raised hand, as much a dismissal as a farewell, and then he was striding off down the hallway and disappearing into the dark.

He departed as soundlessly as he had arrived.

#my fic #gimli #thranduil #gimli & thranduil #legolas x gimli #it's implied

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imaginefan · 3 years

Text

Dramatics *Part 4*

Klaus Mikaelson X Reader

Word Count: 766

Requested: Anon

Request: Can you do a part 4 of dramatics and Klaus finds reader hoping they can work something out? Reader is cold towards him cause she refuses to let him in again cause of all the hurt he did to her. Also that he never noticed she was gone until he needed something from.her. lots of angst please. He kisses her to shut up and she enjoyed it for a minute before slapping him and screaming at him again. Thank you!

*Part 3*

It didn't take long for Klaus to realise how much he relied on you and how alone he felt without you, he expected that you would have been back soon when you realised that you were as lonely as he was but you didn't, he never heard from you and it was starting to worry him, he didn't know where you were or if you were even alive, he wanted to talk to you but he didn't know how to find you and he didn't until he decided to enrol Hope at Alaric's School.

Caroline had found you on her travels around the world and you explained everything that had happened while you were in New Orleans and after talking to Alaric they decided that you would be a great teacher for the kids, you were one of the only Hybrids around it would be nice for the kids to learn about them from an actual Hybrid and since you really had nothing going for you, you decided that it was worth seeing if you liked it. Turned out that being a teacher was kind of your thing and the kids seemed to love you so you ended up staying there. You had been there for about 6 months before you found yourself thinking that fate had a funny way of drawing you to things that you thought you were done with.

You had just finished up teaching a class when you heard that voice that you never thought that you were going to hear "They never told me that they had such amazing teachers here." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You figured that you were going to bump into him again considering you were now back in Mystic Falls but you were hoping that you would have sorted your feelings for him by that time. "What are you doing here?" You asked as you sorted your papers. "Hope needs somewhere safe to stay, Hayley and I thought that this might be the safest place she could be." He answered. "Mmm." You hummed. "Well, then it seems that you want to be talking to Carline and Alaric, not me." You answered. "I still need to talk to you." He answered and you looked at him and rolled your eyes. "Really? What do you want?" You asked. "What are you talking about?" He asked. "When did you realise that I was gone?" You asked, "when you needed something?" "How did you know that?" He asked. "As much as I wanted to leave everything behind my curiosity was still there, so I asked Cami to text me when you came asking and that was months later." You explained. "(Y/N) please I just want to talk." He pleaded as he stepped inside the classroom and closed the door. "What do you want?" You asked again. "I'm sorry." He said softly and you rolled your eyes as he stepped towards you and you stepped around him, he was quick to grab your wrist pulling you closer "I realised that I need you more than I know, I was so lonely without you." "Well, now you know how I feel." You answered. "Feel?" He asked. "Feel, honestly I thought that when I saw you I was just going to cry but it seems that I'm just angry now." You answered honestly. "Those feelings from before? What about them?" He asked. "What does that matter?" You asked attempting to pull yourself away but instead, he pulled you closer, his free hand moved your chin so that you were looking up at him, t was only a second before he pressed a kiss to his lips and for a second you enjoyed it but then you remembered everything that happened and you wanted to scream at him, you pushed him away roughly before glaring at him. "You don't get to walk back into my life and pretend that a kiss is going to make everything better, I should have known when I was a werewolf that you only wanted me because I was looking for an Alpha to follow, I was an omega whose pack was killed, but you didn't see me as a wolf, you saw an opportunity. I'm not going to make myself available to you again, you're here for your daughter so maybe you should find her." "(Y/N) please." He tried one last time but you disappeared to the door of the classroom. "I'm done Klaus, that's the end of it." You dismissed him before disappearing out of the classroom and his life again.

Requests and general question!

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries one shot #the originals #the originals imagines #the originals one shots #klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson one shot #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

When they meet for the first time, they don’t really recognize each other. There is a sense of familiarity, though, a fleeting feeling that disappears the moment their paths diverge again.

Levi enters the temple, scowling as a smell of a dozen candles enters his nostrils. If he were at any other place, he’d start complaining right away. But this is a place for worship, and even though, he doesn’t truly believe in the power of gods, he’s not brave enough to defy them either.

Despite his best efforts to mask his discomfort, she sees right through him. She giggles, utterly delighted. Levi looks up, his eyes wide. She’s nothing like any other priestess he had met before.

He kneels before her, kissing her hand.

“I came here at my master’s request,” he begins with his head still bowed. It’s a sign of reverence, but also a way to hide his uneasiness. Those brown eyes of hers are too vivid, too bright. Looking at them feels like he’s staring at the sun. He feels that if he gazes for a moment longer, he will never be able to tear his eyes away.

Maybe, that’s the sign on her Oracle's powers. Or, maybe, divine intervention.

“I know why you are here,” she replies, her voice deep and melodic. She comes closer and grabs his arm, making him stand up. “Your master wants to receive a prophecy. He won’t like it.”

“So the war…”

“Will not end in your favor,” she finishes for him. “I’m sorry,” and Levi knows she truly is, can see it in the curve of her lips and the remorse inside her eyes.

“Thank you,” he bows again. He reaches out to touch her hand, simply because he wants to feel the warmth of her palm. She intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand.

She smiles, and Levi has a fleeting thought that in another life, he would have died for that smile.

“Your master won’t listen, right?” she whispers, and her smile turns sad.

“He won’t,” he shakes his head. “So that is our first and last meeting, Oracle.”

“May we meet again, Levi,” she says, and Levi doesn’t quite remember introducing himself to her.

“Watch over us, Hange,” her name slips easily from his lips.

She hasn’t introduced herself either.

***

When they meet for the second time, Levi is but a simple servant. He’s working at house of a Florentine banker. His master is an important, wealthy man, who has more money than he knows what to do with. As his servant, Levi spends his days, scraping the marble floors and wiping the golden ceilings until they glisten like a sun in the sky.

He hears about her before he sees her. She is an artist, a rising star and the talk of the whole city. Some say that she’s a genius, whose hands are blessed by the God. And some say she’s a psycho, whose dangerous, heretical ideas would certainly lead her to the deepest pits of hell. Levi doesn’t really care either way, he was never the one for gossip.

What he cares about, though, is the invitation she receives from his master. She is to paint the master’s daughter, so she will be living in their manor, until she finishes the portrait. And so Levi has to work twice the usual, making sure that everything looks perfect for the important guest.

When he sees her for the first time, she passes him by in a hallway. She is walking by his master’s side, gesticulating wildly as she tells him about her next project. The afternoon sunlight dances on her skin and hair, enveloping her in a warm shine. Levi is utterly mesmerized, and so he allows himself to stop for a second and admire the sight in front of him.

He reprimands himself for it later, when he lies in his bed and all he can see are the cheerful grin and brown, excited eyes.

***

When Hange sees him for the first time, she grabs his face in her hands.

“Oh,” she breathes out, an impossibly wide smile on her face. “You’re magnificent.”

She looks as though she lost her mind, but Levi doesn’t even think about taking a step back. He stares back at her, feeling something tighten in his chest.

“Let me draw you,” she whispers. “Just one drawing, please.”

Levi should say no. He’s busy all day, he doesn’t have the time to cater to the whims of some crazy, bespectacled artists. He means to say no, almost says it.

In the end, he doesn’t have the heart to outright reject her.

“I work during days.”

“I can— I can come to you at night, you don’t have to be awake, I just—” she ruffles her hair, frustrated. “I just really need to draw you.”

She’s clearly asking for too much, and her offer sounds more than a little bit creepy. Still, Levi is reluctant to refuse.

“It’s best if I come into your room at night, mine doesn’t have enough lighting.”

“Of course!” she beams. “I’ll be waiting, thank you so much!”

She looks so earnestly happy, so excited and giddy, Levi’s own lips almost curl in a smile. He lowers his head, hiding his amusement before she can see it.

“My name is Hange,” she offers, still smiling.

He knows it, of course. It’s hard not to, when she’s practically a living legend.

“I’m Levi,” he answers.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she chuckles. She presses a hand to his shoulder, squeezing it firmly, and then she is gone.

Levi stares after her for a solid minute, standing in an empty hallway like an idiot. It was just a simple touch, a common gesture, but it leaves him shaken to his core. It feels familiar, Hange feels familiar in a way he can’t yet comprehend. He feels like they’ve met before, feels like he knows Hange, even though he doesn’t. He just met her, but it doesn’t seem this way.

He closes his eyes and sees Hange, but that’s not— not the Hange he has seen moments ago. She’s not wearing a white puffy shirt and dark leather pants, the Hange in his mind is dressed in brown jacket and bright yellow shirt. She holds two blades in her hands, but they look nothing like the swords Levi is used to seeing. Hange doesn’t just stand either, she’s flying through the air.

And the weirdest thing – Levi’s flying next to her.

***

When he comes to her room late at night, Hange lounges on a couch. There is a glass of wine in her hand and a lazy, dreamy smile on her lips.

As soon as Levi enters her room, she jumps to her feet. The movement is sudden and erratic, and it causes the wine in her hands to spill onto her shirt and the floor beneath her feet.

Levi glowers – he had scraped this carpet clean just days ago - and crosses the room in two short strides.

“Fucking hell, four-eyes,” Hange’s eyes widen as soon as the words leave his mouth. Levi freezes too, his mind scrambling for an explanation for the weird nickname.

Hange is the first to recover. With a soft chuckle she takes a step back. Her fingers are in her hair and she awkwardly scratches the back of her hand.

“I should change,” she says, more to herself.

Levi wants to protest, wants to offer his help, wants to do at least something. His heart constricts painfully at the thought of Hange leaving him, even though the rational part of him knows that she’ll be gone just for a few minutes. With a considerable effort, he persuades himself to relax and nods.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Hange asks, before she turns around. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible!”

Levi sighs, fighting back a smile. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Thanks!” she chirps and then dashes out of the room.

When she comes back several minutes later, she sits Levi down on her coach.

“Make yourself at home,” she winks, gesturing to a table full of various fruits and sweets.

“I don’t think I sh—”

“Don’t be silly,” Hange chides. “What’s yours is mine.”

"Alright," Levi agrees, popping a grape into his mouth. It's too sweet for his taste, but it's not often that he gets to eat anything better than the scraps of his master's dinner. He decides to savor this moment and eats another grape.

Without wasting any second, Hange takes out the easel and sets out to work. At first, Levi feels awkward. Hange looks straight at him, seemingly unblinking. Her attention is focused solely on him, and Levi desperately tries to stop himself from fidgeting.

"Should I do something?" he blurts out, when Hange starts eyeing him critically.

"Not at all," she answers with a cheeky grin. "Relax and be yourself. Just try not to move too much, alright?"

"Of course," he murmurs and settles back onto soft pillows.

He lets his guard down completely and closes his eyes. Hange is practically a stranger, a person he met just a few days ago, but he feels safe with her. He trusts her, despite his life teaching him that he should never trust anyone, but himself. However, Hange seems different from all the people he has met before. She is different, there is something familiar about her, as though they've known each other for years.

Levi doesn't quite know what to make of it.

Despite his troubling thoughts, he relaxes. The sound of charcoal scrapping against the paper and the softness of the coach underneath him slowly lulls him to sleep.

He wakes up hours later, when Hange gently shakes his shoulder.

"Hey, sleepy head," she says with a smile so pretty, Levi feels an acute desire to taste it on his lips. He almost leans in, but, thankfully stops himself at the last moment. He tries to put the blame for the weird impulse on his still sleepy state, but the excuse sounds hollow even to his own ears.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep. Did I ruin your drawing?" he moves to get up, but Hange's hand on his shoulder presses him back down.

"No, no," she shakes her head ever so slightly, and the strands of her brown locks hit Levi's face. That's what makes him realize their close proximity. Hange's kneeling by the coach, and her nose almost touches his chin. Levi looks down at her, and the feeling is alienating, so weird and wrong, it makes him uncomfortable. Shouldn't it be the other way?

"I've finished it already. It's only a rough draft," she comments self-deprecatingly. "But I wanted you to see it," she hands him the easel. "What do you think?"

Levi looks at the drawing for a long, long moment. Every single person who had ever praised Hange were right, her art skills are phenomenal. Staring at the easel feels like he is staring in the mirror. Hange got every detail right, down to the crease between his eyebrows and the small scar on his left cheek. In the picture, he is holding two blades in each hand, and with a start Levi realizes that that these are the same blades he imagined earlier that day.

"What the hell, four-eyes?" he scowls at her. "Don't you know how a real sword looks like?"

Hange rolls her eyes, her smile never faltering. "I just decided to draw them this way. Don't really know why, though."

Levi doesn't know it too, but he knows there is a connection between his vision and Hange's drawing. He also knows that there is a connection between them. He knows with absolute certainty that it's not the first time he had met Hange.

And something tells him that it won't be the last time either.

Before he can contemplate it any further, though, Hange presses her lips to his. Levi hesitates for just a second, just long enough to settle the easel carefully on the floor. Then he fists his hands in Hange's hair and returns the kiss just as passionately.

*** Later that night, after they did what a servant boy should never do with a high-born artist, they lay together in bed, basking in each other's presence. Hange’s her arms are around Levi, and his cheek is pressed to her chest. The sound of her steady, rhythmic heartbeat is oddly calming.

"There are so many things we don't know yet, Levi. I have so many ideas, so many inventions I want to create..."

Levi listens to her ramblings with a slight curve of his lips. Hange's bright, excited eyes and hopeful words evoke something in him, something akin to nostalgia. He closes his eyes and sees the endless sky and the green hills beneath him. He sits atop a giant wall, and Hange's by his side, her shoulder pressed against his, and she talks and talks and talks, speaking of a better future and new discoveries. He shakes his head and the image disappears. Levi slowly opens his eyes to see Hange stare at him.

"After this commission is over, I want— I want to go to Rome, and then I want to visit Constantinople," there is a wide happy smile on her lips, and Levi reaches out to kiss the corner of her mouth. Hange's smile grows bigger and her gaze becomes softer. "Would you like to go with me, Levi?"

Yes, Levi almost says. But deep down he knows that's impossible. Hange's a genius, a prodigy, and he's just a servant. There are miles, worlds separating them. They've found each other, but they're not meant to be. Not yet.

"No," Levi answers with a rare softness in his voice. "My place is here."

Hange's smile becomes sad, but she nods and presses their foreheads together.

"Then I'll see you in another life?"

"Later, Hange," Levi agrees and allows himself to smile.

***

They're only kids when they meet again in another life. Hange, as always, is bold and energetic and she befriends the gloomy and awkward Levi almost by force. They become practically inseparable ever since. They stay by each other's side throughout childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. The whole town expects them to marry the moment both of them are of age. Levi’s own mother often nudges him to propose to Hange and start a family. And he wants to, he really does, but not now. What they already have is nice enough.

"There is no need to hurry," Hange says, when they sit together under a shadow of an oak tree. The soft morning light makes her look absolutely radiant, and Levi loses himself in watching her smile. He leans in and presses a kiss to it, thinking that Hange is right. There is no need to hurry. They have all the time in the world.

They spend another few years in bliss, carefully toeing the line between friends and lovers, and when the time comes for Hange's twenty-fifth birthday, Levi goes to her house, intent on finally confessing his feelings. He prepares the speech and even robs his mother's garden of a few sunflowers. He feels more than a little bit awkward, he isn't the most eloquent or romantic person, but Hange knows him like no one else does and Levi finds immense comfort in the thought that whenever stupid shit will come out of his mouth, she will be able to understand him all the same.

Whatever words he had prepared and rehearsed, though, die in this throat the moment Hange opens the door. There is a glint in her eyes and a blush on her cheeks that makes her look almost feverish. Levi has a sinking feeling that he knows the reason for it. The crudely drawn pamphlet in Hange's right hand only heightens his suspicion.

"Levi!" she proudly shows him the pamphlet. "They— they are recruiting! The army is going to pass our town on their way to Saratoga and I'm going to join them. I— I will finally have the chance to do something! To fight back the oppressors! To bring freedom to our people!”

Hange’s speech is strangely familiar, in more ways than just one. Obviously, it’s not the first time Levi has heard about her dreams of building a better future for their nation, but as he stares at the righteous fire inside Hange’s eyes, as he tries to picture her in battle, he sees her fighting giant, ugly creatures and not the soldiers in red coats.

Levi blinks a few times, forcing the bizarre vision away. Evidently, Hange’s departure, although not unexpected, leaves him shaken to the core.

"Oh, you brought flowers!" Hange claps her hands in delight. "What's the occasion?"

Levi gives her a flat look. "It's your birthday, shithead."

"Oh, right!" she slaps her forehead. "I totally forgot about that."

"Idiot," Levi flicks her nose, making Hange yelp in pain and cover her face. She glares and he smirks, daring her to retaliate.

She sticks her tongue out and Levi rolls his eyes. He turns around, heading to the kitchen to find the only vase Hange owns.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," she announces, while Levi rummages through the kitchen cabinet. His hand hovers in the air, as he tries to find his breathing.

"I can't go with you," it comes out in a shaking whisper. He lowers his hand and grips the table so tightly, his knuckles become white.

"I know," Hange answers just as quietly. "You have to care for your mother, Levi. I understand." She comes to stand around him, wrapping her arms around his body and pressing her chin into his shoulder. "I'll come back before you know it. Just— wait for me, alright?"

"Wait for you?" Levi echoes, confused.

"Well," Hange chuckles warmly. "Don't go marrying someone else before I get back."

"Idiot," Levi raises his hand and entangles it in her hair. "Everyone knows I'm crazy for you."

"You're crazy for me, huh?" she shifts her face to kiss his cheek. "Is that really so?"

"Unfortunately," Levi replies, turning around and pressing his lips to her.

The sinking feeling inside his chest doesn't disappear, but with Hange in his arms, he almost forgets about it.

***

Hange leaves the next morning, and the hollowness takes over Levi's heart. He worries about her, constantly. Day and night, he wonders how is she doing and what is she doing. Hange writes him, of course. She sends letters, where she talks about her brothers in arms, her superiors and trainings. She tells that the food there is horrible and that she hates waking up before sunrise for the morning drills.

Other than that, though, she seems happy, excited at the prospect of fighting for her motherland. She writes about her new friend - Colonel Erwin Smith. She gushes about his intelligence and courage, and as Levi reads it, he imagines Colonel as blonde, blue-eyed man. He sees him so clearly in his mind, as though they've met before.

In the next letter, Hange confesses that sometimes she feels like she has known Erwin for a very long time. She writes that it seems like they’ve already met before.

"You will like him too," she adds, before she goes on to complain about cold nights and drinking soldiers.

Several months later, Kenny shows up at their doorstep, claiming that he came to see his dear sister. Reluctantly - Kenny's arrival always means trouble - Levi lets him in.

In the evening, his uncle gets drunk and starts talking about a new gig of his.

“I’ve acquired a tavern in the New York,” he smirks proudly. “All the red coats love it. They drink like pigs,” Kenny adds dreamily.

And Levi gets an idea.

As soon as Kenny passes out, he grabs pen and a paper, and starts writing to Hange.

She likes his plan and promises to talk it through with Erwin. He agrees to it without hesitation.

Now, every once in a while - whenever Hange asks him - he goes to help with Kenny's tavern. He pours the drinks and cleans the tables. He listens intently to the talks around him. Sometimes, he drinks with soldiers too - when asking directly, it is much easier to get the information out of them. He is careful not to be too obvious, though. Most of them are drunkards, but not idiots.

It is dangerous to pass the numbers of their ranks, the location of their troops and the plans for their future attacks in the letter, so Hange comes to get them personally. They meet in the forest that surrounds their small town, careful to be as discreet as possible. Hange never stays for long, always in a hurry. But Levi adds some home-cooked meal to each of his messages, and Hange always stays just long enough so they could eat it together.

Only during those short meetings, those fleeting moments Levi feels truly alive.

***

The war lasts longer than any of them had anticipated but Levi is patient. Hange promised she'd come back, and he trusts her. In all the years they've known each other, she had never broken her word.

In the last letter he receives from her, she is optimistic as ever. The war is almost over, she assures him. Soon we'll be together again, she adds. As always, Levi believes her.

In the following week, the news finally reach their town. In the battle of Yorktown, the British surrendered.

Levi smiles for the first time since Hange left.

She is finally coming home.

***

Another week passes, and Levi is in the middle of dough kneading. He hears the knock on the door, and his heart swells. He shouts to his mother that he'll get it and rushes to the door, not even stopping to wipe off his hands. She was never against a little mess, after all.

When he opens the door, however, it's not Hange who stands at the other side of it.

The blonde man with bright blue eyes - Colonel Erwin Smith, Levi realizes immediately - wears a grim, solemn expression.

"I'm sorry," he says. "She was a hero," he adds.

Levi nods, feeling numb, and lets the man in.

He makes them tea and sits Erwin in his kitchen. It's quiet at first. Levi stares down at the table, his hands trembling and his head spinning.

He doesn't understand. It's Hange, Hange, his weird and wonderful Hange. She can't be dead. She can't— she can't just leave him. She promised to return, promised to come back to him.

He slams his cup against the wall. It shutters into dozen pieces. Levi stares at it, unblinking.

Alarmed by the loud sound, his mother runs out of her room. Erwin hurries to calm her down and then he comes back to the kitchen. He cleans the mess Levi made and then firmly squeezes his shoulder.

"Do you have something stronger than this?" he asks, gesturing to the tea.

Levi nods, absentmindedly, and gestures to the cabinet above the sink.

Erwin pours them two glasses of bourbon. Levi downs it instantly. Erwin follows his suit and then he starts talking. He tells him about Hange's days in the army, how brilliant and talented she was, how much dedication she had for their cause.

"Before her death," Erwin begins slowly. "She— she asked me to tell you - she'll find you again. In another life."

"In another life," Levi repeats, his voice hollow and bleak.

*** The next time they meet, Levi is already dying. He doesn't need the doctors in white coats and with stethoscopes in their hands to tell him it's consumption. He knows very well about the disease, has seen many associates and friends, his own mother die from it. He knows what to expect. What he doesn't expect is a smiling, friendly face.

Doctor Hange Zoe is a genius, or so the nurses say. They say she was asked to work in the best clinics of Britain, but she chose St Thomas Hospital, simply because she wished to help the needy. She's weird and eccentric, too intense sometimes, but also gentle and caring. Most of the patients adore her.

"You look awful," she announces chirpily, when she visits Levi's ward for the first time.

“I’m dying,” he answers bluntly.

“Ah, yes,” Hange bites her lip, shoving hands into the pockets of her coat. “Let’s try to do something about it, yeah?”

***

She tries to save him, she really does. Hange spends days and nights by his side, trying remedy after remedy. In the end, nothing is stronger than the disease.

When his time comes, when Levi lies in a creaking hospital bed, he’s a sweaty, trembling mess. Hange doesn’t leave him even then. She frets over him, adjusting his pillow and fixing his blanket.

“I should— maybe, you want a glass of water?” she paces around the ward, nervously ruffling her hair. “Or maybe, I should bring you another blanket? A warmer one? I can ask one of the nurses—”

“Hange,” Levi croaks, lifting his hand to weakly grasp her wrist. “It’s over. You know it, I know it. Just calm the fuck down.”

“But you— you’re dying. How can I be calm about it?”

“Come here,” with the last strength he still possesses, Levi scoots over to make a place for Hange on the bed. She sits by his side and takes his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. Her other hand is in his hair, and her fingers gently push the sweaty strands away.

“It’s okay, Hange,” he looks up at her, his eyes shining with fever and something much, much softer, something that Levi doesn’t want to name. Not now, when he’s on his death bed. “I’ve lived more than I expected to anyway. And I’m glad— glad that I got to meet you. I wish—” he pauses, clearing his throat. When he speaks again, there is a feeble smile on his lips. “I wish we could have stayed in that forest, though.”

“What?” Hange freezes, frowning in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “Just felt like saying this to you.”

It’s probably the fever messing with his head, but this feels familiar. Hange looking down at his weak, incapacitated form, her expression solemn, worried and exhausted. It happened before, Levi is sure of it. And looking into Hange’s wide eyes, he knows – she’s sure of it too.

It isn’t long before he draws his last breath. The last thing he feels is the gentle kiss Hange presses to his forehead. Levi dies with a smile on his lips.

***

When they meet for the next time, they both are finally in their element. They're at war, and amidst all the horror, pain, death and tears, the only thing that keeps Levi together is the knowledge that Hange's here with him and she always has his back.

It's almost unnatural how well they work together. They're two parts of the same mechanism, perfectly synchronized. Hange's the brain and he's the brawl. There is no one else he would rather do it with.

It happens when no one expects it to. It's one of those uneventful days, when the sun shines brightly and the sky is clear.

Levi smokes a cigarette and watches the cadets run drills. Usually Hange stands next to him, teasing the young soldiers. But this morning they've managed to intercept a coded transmission, and she had been mulling over it with Armin for almost three hours now.

Levi is about to take the last drag of his cigarette, when Armin runs out to the training field, his eyes wild.

“T-the enemy!” he shouts and then doubles over, putting hands on his knees and taking a deep breath. “The enemy!” he repeats again. “They’ve discovered the location of our base. They’re coming for us!”

Hange comes to stand behind him, her face grim. “We need to evacuate and quickly. Take only the most valuable.”

“Will we be able to escape?” Jean wonders. “Armin said they’re already coming. How long do we have?”

“Not long,” Hange answers truthfully. “But if you hurry up, you’ll be able to escape.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Connie frowns.

“Someone has to buy some time. I’ll hope up in an aircraft and try to slow them down. Now, shoo, you all. I’ll see you later.”

Levi watches Hange smile and his heart falls. He knows where this is going, knows how this is going to end. He doesn’t wish to repeat it.

“Four-eyes,” he growers. “What the hell—”

“My time has come, Levi,” her lower lip starts shaking and she bites it, refusing to meet his eyes. “I want to look as cool as possible, so just let me go, alright?”

“We can— can do it together, then maybe—”

“No,” Hange resolutely shakes her head. “Levi, they need you. The kids, they’ll need some guidance after I’m gone. Armin is great, but he’s young. Take care of them.”

“Hange,” he knows he won’t be able to stop her. So he accepts it, same as he accepts every part of her, good or bad. They share the same flaw, after all. Their duty always comes first. Their love for freedom and humanity is more important than their love to each other. It’s always been the same, they’ve always been the same.

So Levi presses his fist upon her heart, staring right in her eyes.

“Dedicate your heart,” he whispers. He leaves before he can change his mind. He runs away before Hange can come up with a witty comeback. He gets to work and helps the kids with loading the weaponry before his resolve crumbles.

When he is driving a car, taking all of them away from the fight, he tries to pretend that the sound of crushing aircraft is only in his head. He tells himself that the tears in his eyes are caused by the bright sun ahead of him. He pointedly ignores his broken heart.

***

Their next meeting is the most mundane of them all. In truth, it’s so ordinary that Levi doesn’t quite believe it. It’s hard to call any of them ordinary after all.

There are no deaths this time, no war or diseases, or pain. They are common people with ordinary jobs and plain, devoid of any danger lives.

Levi is a simple office worker, who gets a job at Erwin’s firm after he helps him with solidifying a very important deal.

At his first day at job, Erwin gathers a committee meeting, so he can introduce Levi to his new coworkers.

It’s awkward as hell, and Levi feels like he’s a new boy at school. Considering that he’s almost pushing thirties, it’s a feeling he never thought he’d get to experience ever again.

He only half-listens to Erwin praise him and his past accomplishments , as his attention is more focused on his colleagues. They seem fine, but there is one person in particular who gets most his attention.

She wears a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and her hair is put up in some semblance of a pony-tail. She looks at him, not averting her eyes, even when he looks back. Levi glares at her, prompting her to turn away. It has a diametrically opposite effect, though. The bespectacled weirdo smiles and winks at him.

Levi rolls his eyes and scowls. What is she, a child?

***

She catches him just after the meeting is adjourned.

“Hello,” she draws, curving her lips into a wide grin. “Erwin has told me all about you. He’s very impressed,” she leans closer to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell me your secret.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Levi tries to push past her, but the four-eyed weirdo follows after him.

“He says you have incredible diplomatic skills.”

Levi barely resists the urge to scoff. Diplomatic skills his ass. The only reason why Erwin managed to sign off the deal he needed was because he took Levi with him and instructed him to make “the scariest face possible”.

“Fuck off, four-eyes,” Levi flips her off, but she is unrelenting.

“C’mon! Don’t be like that!” Hange pouts. “I just want to know what you did to impress Erwin like that! I’ve been his councilor for almost three years, and he had never praised my diplomacy. Oh, how about that!” Hange grabs his arm and links their hands together. “I’ll treat you to dinner this evening, and you tell me about your secret deal with Erwin?”

“No,” Levi replies, shaking her off. Then he glances at her and raises an eyebrow. “A dinner? Are you trying to hit on me, four-eyes?”

“Why,” she asks, her voice and deep and husky. Levi feels his cheeks turn to red. “Is it working?”

“No,” he answers, even though he actively tries to fight off a smile.

“Please,” Hange whines. “Just one dinner!” she pauses, lifting her face and putting on a thoughtful expression. “And maybe drinks afterwards?”

“Aren’t you asking for too much, four-eyes?”

“Nah,” she says with an infuriating grin. “I know you will agree,”

Levi almost growls in frustration. He just met this weirdo, but she already reads him like a goddamned book. He wants to refuse, just to spite her. Something tells me she won’t back off that easily, though.

He sighs, admitting his defeat. “You’re paying for the dinner and drinks. And,” he raises a finger. “You’re going home to change your clothes. This thing,” he points at her shirt, “reeks.”

“Deal!” she beams. “I’m Hange, by the way,” she extends a hand to him.

“Levi,” he takes her hand in his. Her palm is calloused, but warm. Levi doesn’t want to let go. He does let go, though. There is already an abnormal standing next to him. He doesn’t want to join her ranks.

“Ah, Levi!” Hange puts an arm around his shoulder. “I get a feeling we’re off to a great start here!”

He doesn’t answer, but doesn’t push her away either. Maybe, that’s already an answer.

And as Hange starts leading him through the office, he can’t help but agree with her last words.

Maybe, this time it will finally work out, he thinks. Maybe, in this life they’ll be allowed to live happily.

#HUGE historical innacuracies #just ummmm... ignore them lmao #anyway! hope you like it!!!!!!!!#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #hange zoe #levi ackerman #snk fanfiction #snk fandom

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xwasted-days · 4 years

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𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 || 𝖇.𝖍.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: It’s probably been done before, but I wanted to throw together a little song-fic based on Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars. I’m sappy and I like sad things. Also, this is my first tumblr fic, pls be nice. Requests are open and I have no tag-list, because it’s a new blog.

Work Count: 2, 276

Complete Story Warnings: Major Character Death, Pure Angst, 10/10 sad. Also, probably language.

The battle of Starcourt was turning in favor of the party and all therein, but war was never without casualty.

Billy Hargrove had a questionable character and reputation among most in Hawkins. People wanted him as a friend or a fuck, and those that didn’t wanted him gone. Few succeeded in ever knowing Billy as more than the sad little king of his sad little hill, and even fewer knew the plights he faced at home. A minimal two: Max, the step sister, and Y/N, the girlfriend, who rushed into the center of the mall behind Mike Wheeler, unable to help as Billy threw himself in El’s path. Y/N moved before her mind could register: scrambling forward when Billy caught the mindflayer’s clawed gullet in his hands. Those beautiful, calloused hands with the feather-soft touch. She took another step forward, faltering as a tentacle dug into his left side, the sickening crunch of torn flesh and splintering ribs echoing in the building silence. The second hit came and she rushed forward again, slipping on fragments of broken glass. Y/N’s knees hit the ground hard, the sharp sting barely registering as the hits kept coming, clawing all around his torso. He screamed each time, every cry cutting off in a strangled garble at the sharp shock of another tentacle landing its blows. Billy screamed, daring the monster on, and Y/N screamed, begging it all to stop.

The final blow landed in the center of Billy’s chest, silencing him. Max’s scream sounded somewhere behind her.

As the mindflayer pulled away, thrashing, snarling, wailing in defeat, Y/N ran forward, slipping in rapidly pooling blood as she pulled Billy to her chest.

I remember tears streaming down your face, when I said, “I’ll never let you go.”

The words, even as they left Y/N’s lips, felt like the deepest and most real thing she’d expressed since the moment he was taken by the mindflayer.

Since the darkness had fallen over Hawkins, she’d felt vacant, plastic, unreal. She supposed the notion came first when Barb had gone missing; when the trio of sub-popular girls was first fractured. Everything seemed to fall apart until Y/N found out what really happened to Barb, what was haunting Will Byers, and what hunted the people of Hawkins.

Life was a ceaseless ebb and flow of highs and lows; still, she never expected the tide to pull away as it was now. Nothing could compare to this feeling: her boyfriend tucked in her arms, fading away before her, was what would cause the tidal wave to break.

Cool and fragile, the rapid thundering of his heart beneath Y/N’s palm, the salt of crystalline tears sliding off his angled pale, cheek, his hand gripping her arm as he clung to waning life. Billy opened his mouth, hoping for any words to form. None did. He felt the pain with each blow, but as the creature yanked itself away and Billy fell, there was no sensation. Nothing but an icy numbness. After his mom left, Billy prayed for nothing more than to lose his feeling, and now it was gone he wanted it back.

He wanted it back because he wanted to stay with her. He’d always known he was a selfish bastard, but this instance wasn’t for himself. It was for her; his Y/N. The only girl he gave a shit about for longer than one night at a time. And now, he was going to lose her. “..I-” he struggled again, shivering in her arms.

When all those shadows almost killed your light

“Shh,” Y/N cooed, bringing her hand up to brush sweaty, blonde curls off of his forehead, ignoring the scene that played out around them. Billy was never meant to get caught in this crossfire; he was meant to be as he always was: cocky, stupid, young and reckless. Seated atop his lifeguard seat, staring out over the crowds of Hawkins Community Pool as a king surveyed his kingdom. Instead, he was out there, vulnerable to to the upside down, taken as so many others had been.

Y/N glanced down at the gaping, bloody hole that forced the pale colored fabric of the shirt at Billy’s chest to dip inward, the rich, viscous, and sickly stain making her stomach churn. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, a meager attempt at staunching her tears as she played strong for Billy’s sake. She felt his hand at her arm give a squeeze, her attentions drawing back toward the boy in her lap. Y/E/C eyes connecting to Billy’s steely blue ones again, she offered a shaky smile, her thumb smoothing along the arch of his cheek.

I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone…"

Billy’s voice was soft and hoarse, barely audible as the commotion of the party and the mindflayer fizzled on around them. The fair haired, beautiful boy Y/N had fallen so deeply for let out a soft grunt of protest at the ache, his body twitching involuntarily as pain coursed through him.

“Think you can get rid of me that easily, ya little shit?” Y/N asked with a gentle chuckle, keeping her shaky grin to ease Billy’s worry. Her tears flowed more freely now, slipping down her cheeks as she held him close. “Gotta try a whole helluva lot harder than that, Hargrove. You and me. California, remember?”

The broken king of Hawkins High put on a woozy, pale-lipped smile and hiccupped on a sob, coughing after. A soft mist of blood peppered his lips and chin, staining his teeth crimson. California, their would-be paradise, far away from Indiana and all their worries. He’d sworn up and down that they would leave one day, go back to his home and flourish in ways unimaginable. His promise now seemed as broken as he was. He was fading. Y/N didn’t have enough time.

But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.

The flutter of Billy’s heart was growing more and more faint, and the beats, which willed themselves with great difficulty, grew slower and slower in their efforts.

Billy leaned his weight further into Y/N’s body, slack and woozy. All the coherency in his head fading. She had promised that wouldn’t leave, said she wouldn’t let go, but she had. Or hadn’t she? He could hardly tell, his vision fading in and out, gleams of purple and pink, the hazy sound of distant chatter. Billy felt his chest heave with a great gasp, and his jaw open and close with the effort of breath. It happened again, and again. He felt hands on his arms, squeezing, but he couldn’t register the effect of the sensation. He was cold, so cold. He wished so vehemently that he could ask Y/N what was going on, but Billy couldn’t seem to find his tongue.

That’s a first, he thought, trying to squeeze back the person in his numbed fingers. Every bit of him was so cold, probably frozen from where he had been, lost in darkness with the delicate snowfall. He was sure another erratic breath would leave him in shards. His head lulled to the side, hardly-seeing eyes registering the plume of Y/H/C and a small streak of fiery red. He searched between them, hoping to register on either of the faces that peered down on him, but none came. He coughed, gagging on something oozing in his throat, feeling hands tighten and voices raise.

Soft curls of blonde hair fell over her his forehead, even as Y/N pushed them away, shifting his weight so Billy’s head was more firmly pressed to her chest. He was growing more and more still, even as she and Max begged him to stay. The girl took a breath, fighting down the body-trembling sob that wedged in her throat. “Billy? Wake up, Billy, please?” She asked, watching a tear of her own fall down to slip against his cheek, rolling down onto his stubbled chin.

Billy took a deep, shuddering breath, so loud he scared himself. He'd forgotten to breathe, and the muted voices he heard in his haze kept him there. Her voice. The voice he listened to in the quiet solitude of a shared bedroom, or in the crowded halls of Hawkins High. The voice he grew to love before he could even remember what love felt like. The voice he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

He blinked, trying to clear the tears in his eyes, focusing on Y/N and Max hovering above him.

“....I’m sorry.” Billy shuddered as his eyes glossed over, a sudden cloud overtaking his vision. The clarity of the world was fading into shapes, then shadows, and careening rapidly into darkness. There was a loud bang somewhere near him and had he retained the strength, he would have jumped. Another bang. And another. One, two. One, two. One. Two. One. Two, each pair of beats getting further and further apart. Billy breathed out, defeated, overcome by the realization that those noises were thuds of his heart stopping. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, he couldn’t taste anything but the heavy black goop on his tongue, he could only smell the coppery, acrid stink of blood that clogged his sinuses. All that was left was hearing; Billy was caught listening to the terrible, awful rhythm of his once-small heart, stopping. He listened again, hoping to hear the voices, praying they would draw him out of it, but there was no sound. Nothing. Not even the beating of his heart. Just his remaining consciousness, slowly going black. Billy Hargrove was dead, he knew. He wanted to scream, to panic and cry, but nothing was there.

He didn't see the light that everyone blathered about, he didn't feel the peace. He was the hollow, lifeless shell of a boy who could have been more than a lifeguard with an attitude problem. And he was dead. And he left her behind.

His beautiful Y/N, whose voice and smiles and touches were forfeit to the darkness that consumed.

Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.

Y/N felt the final, sickening beat of Billy’s heart beneath her hand. Another tear fell onto Billy’s face, then another. And another. Max whispered, begging her step brother to wake, her small hands shaking his bloodied shoulders to no avail. A hard, broken, centuries old sob tore through Y/N’s chest and echoed through the mall; the cry of everyone who had lost someone they loved for good. The cry that begged death to return a loved one to the land of the living that always fell on deaf ears.

“Billy, please,” she whimpered, trembling fingers soothing the lifeless skin of the boy she loved. Every thought, hope, wish, and dream connected to him was gone, dead as he was.

Jagged orange patterns began to dance on the ground all around them, and offered the girl nothing but a ghastly illumination along her lost lover’s gaunt, pale face. It made him look hollow, as if no happiness, no mischief, no curiosity had once been lurking behind those coy, gorgeous eyelids. His once tanned, golden flesh was sickly and pale, the adonis within snuffed out forever. Y/N snarled and sobbed hard, holding Billy closer, hiding him from the sickening yellowed light of the fire that grew.

She heard feet scramble around as the party gathered, their footfalls echoing like hard beat of the drums of war.

Villains never prevailed. Heroes never lived. No one was ever truly saved. Y/N’s shoulders caved and shook as she sobbed, broken and holding onto Billy’s body. Stifling a hiccup, she sighed sadly and started humming and rocking him back and forth; their song mumbled on tear-stained lips. She was chained to her place on the ground, lost.

She didn’t see the others there, she couldn’t hear their words. She didn’t take notice when Max hid her face in El’s shoulder and sobbed for her lost brother.

The world around her was crumbling into vacant nothingness and Y/N felt herself heave with another sob. She leaned back, her blood stained fingers gently brushing the infallible, pure flesh of Billy’s cold cheek, smoothing the tears she’d left there away with another broken whimper. “I love you…” She whispered longingly, her voice needy and raspy.

A hand pressed to Y/N’s shoulder. It didn’t matter whose it was. It wasn’t his. And she hated that it pulled her back. The distant thrum of helicopters rattling in the skies, the sobs that left Max as she cried, the soft sniffles that sounded from El as she sat in mourning solidarity with her friend. Steve’s voice low as sirens began to wail in the streets.

“Y/N. We gotta go,” Steve said, joined at her flank by Robin, whose thin hand came to rest on Y/N’s arm. She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave him. Another sob leaving her, Robin leaned forward to rest her head on Y/N’s shoulder, rubbing her arm gently as she could, tears flooding her own eyes as she looked across to Steve’s battered face.

Harrington hated Hargrove with all he had, but he didn’t deserve this. Y/N didn’t deserve this. Nostrils quivering as he fought to keep strong, he gave Robin a solemn nod. Together, they helped place Billy on the ground where he fell and pull Y/N back, consoling her as she cried.

Just close your eyes. The sun is going down You'll be alright. No one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.

#bh.#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove #st3 #stranger things #oneshot #billy hargrove oneshot #stranger things billy #stranger things fanfiction #fan fiction #song fic

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 3 years

Note

Hello! If you don't mind me asking, are you planning on watching House of the Dragon? I'm personally unsure about it. I was cautiously optimistic about it since D&D are not involved, but the recent casting news have been ugh disappointing imo. What do you think?

Hey anon! Sorry to say I kind of mind you asking because my inbox is still closed (to everyone except my secret Santas, which is why the ask page is accessible at all), but then I realized it’s possible if you’re on the mobile app only, you haven’t seen said note in my askbox, or my FAQ, or anything of the sort. And with older metas of mine being reblogged recently, it’s possible you may be confused. (I hope you’re on mobile only and not just ignoring my requests.) So I wanted to inform you of that... but also, y’know, I kind of wanted to make a post about the HotD cast anyway? And this ask is as good a prompt as any... so, you’re lucky, but please don’t push your luck. ;)

So, straight up: I currently have no plans to watch House of the Dragon. HBO is not getting any of my goddamn money, I don’t trust like that. And hunting down illegal livestreaming sites is a pain in the ass and I regret ever doing it for GoT, as well as regretting getting drunk every weekend enough to dampen my senses to ever tolerate that show. Yeah it’s different showrunners and writers, I know. It’s still (mostly) the same executives at HBO and even if the pervert producer is gone (or is he?), you know they still just want to sell sex and violence and dragons to an audience that thinks fantasy is for geeks.

Also, considering that Fire & Blood’s story of Dance of the Dragons has very little actual narrative or dialogue, and the historical record is deliberately untrustworthy, that gives them pretty much full rein to do whatever they like with the story and characterization and words without even being slightly obliged to GRRM at all. Furthermore, since the story is wholly political with virtually none of the magical side of ASOIAF (excepting dragons), and honestly does not have much in the way of themes or depth that main ASOIAF or even D&E has, I think it will be very hard for an adaptation to show even those brief sparks of quality that used to make me wistful GoT couldn’t be that good all the time and eventually just made me frustrated and depressed. Note I do like the history and characters of the Dance despite myself, despite its many many many textual issues, but I don’t need to see an adaptation, I have a very visual imagination. I don’t watch a lot of television to begin with, I don’t see why I should start again with this.

However, I’m not going to avoid spoilers or discussion, and I’ll probably follow the show the tumblr way, through gifsets and video clips and people bitching on their blogs etc. If, somehow, by some miracle of good screenwriting and acting, the show manages to transcend its source material, I’m sure I will be informed. And then, if and only if then, I may try watching. (Without, of course, giving HBO any of my goddamn money.) We shall see.

(Though I certainly don’t know why anyone in Targ standom would ever watch a Dance adaptation considering almost every Targaryen and everyone else in the story is terrible except Helaena and the kids, and considering how the story ends, unless y’all are gluttons for punishment? (I do not comprehend hatewatching, sorry.) It’ll probably be fun at first to see the adventures of those “precious silver douchebags” (to borrow a friend’s tag), but eventually rocks fall, everyone dies, including the girlboss you know you’ll hope the story will be changed enough that she succeeds. Just letting you know now, she won’t.)

That said. I’ve been following the casting news and I think the hate/fear/wild screaming is entirely overblown. Yeah, I know, but wait, just listen. On Friday I officially welcomed @naomimakesart to the “favorite character is now played by an actor who looks nothing like most fanart and is mostly known for wildly different roles” club. I still remember that day in September 2009 when my brother texted me “yarp��... and that right there is the thing. Yeah. Rory McCann looks very little like most pre-GoT Sandor fanart... but many fans grew to love him anyway. (There are some who never did, of course. And yeah the character went off the rails by the end, but truly, who didn’t. Having seen his audition, having spoken to him and heard him wistfully talk about book scenes he loved, I’m convinced if Rory had only been given Sandor’s actual scenes and such, he would’ve killed it. Sigh. Deep, deep sigh.)

And Rory isn’t the only one. Neither of the actors for Jaime and Cersei were considered “beautiful” enough at first. I recall very clearly people bitching about Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (about his nose particularly?) because they had wanted Tarzan-era Travis Fimmel to be Jaime. (Seeing people bitch because current-Fimmel isn’t playing Daemon made me laugh out loud for both BEYONCE?! meme -type “why would you ever cast him omg he doesn’t fit my headcanon Daemon at all”, and amazing amounts of fandom flashbacks.) Lena Headey was “too square-jawed”, “too mean-looking” (since at the beginning you should never be able to guess she’s evil), “too dark-complected”, “too mannish”, not at all attractive enough. (Tricia Helfer was the most common “but I wanted” for Cersei, btw.) And of course “they don’t remotely look like twins, ugh!” Note, there’s receipts for all of this, none of it is made up. (Unfortunately.) Those two actors are just the ones whose casting wank I recall most clearly, particularly because oh how the turn tables.

Also. You know, there’s a post with Matt Smith and Mark Simonetti’s TWOIAF Daemon going around with shrieks of horror... and I’m finding it maddening in a “am I crazy? am I the crazy one???” way, because Matt looks like the painting. Their features are not that dissimilar.

Same deepset eyes. Same cheekbones of doom. Same thin lips. Same protruding chin. Same high forehead. Same invsible eyebrows ffs. Matt has a squarer jaw, and a longer more rectangular face, and a wider nose, but considering that Daemon’s features are not described in the text, and this is the only official ASOIAF artwork that shows Daemon’s face straight on, I can for sure see why he was probably shortlisted to begin with. And that’s not even getting into to his role in The Crown, which I’ve heard is very well played with politics and palace intrigue... and if you doubt Smith can play seductive/roguish and/or evil (depending on how you LARP as a Westeros historian), or look good with long hair... well. I do not want to watch the movie, but this trailer is disturbingly enlightening.

And as for Rhaenyra... y’all know this show is starting at the beginning of the story, right? When she’s a teenager? Not a voluptuous MILF? Yeah, Emma D’Arcy doesn’t look like a Magali Villeneueve painting (though who does, good lord), but you know who she does look remarkably like? Harry Lloyd.

Same jawline. Same nose. Same thin lips. Same sharp cheekbones. Notably, same kind of sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes as Matt Smith. HBO evidently has a concept of a “Targaryen look” that’s a little bit quirkier than supermodel-Greek statue-gods on earth, yeah, fine. But it’s consistent, and they look like family, and that-- that is good casting.

And yeah, in a few months to a year or so, you’ll see them in costume and wigs and makeup, you’ll see them in motion and speaking lines, and go Oh. That’s different. Never mind. And while people will make fanart of the show depictions of the characters and those will probalby get popular, they’ll also keep doing fanart of their pre-show headcanons, and those too will be popular. (God knows when I draw or visualize book!Sandor, Rory does not come to mind, lol.) Either way, there’s no reason to panic. We’ll live.

(Though will we live well? Got to wait on the writing and showrunning for that, alas.)

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quirk--karma · 3 years

Text

The Things We Lose Aizawa x Reader

Aizawa looked at the clock yet again. He was probably just as eager as his students were for class to end on a Friday. Just another 17 minutes until the bell and he coul- “Daddy!” Tired eyes suddenly widened at the cute voice that followed pattering footsteps. Without much warning his two-year-old son came barreling towards him, eventually grabbing onto his leg. “Maka, mommy said to wait for her and not bother daddy in class!” Aizawa’s head turned to see his five-year-old daughter trying to round up her sibling. The sounds of murmurs and whispers from his class didn’t go unnoticed. Looking up he could see twenty pairs of wide eyes homing in on the two children who had suddenly made an appearance. The black-haired man sighed heavily.

Its not that he wanted to keep his loved ones a secret, but he definitely tried to keep a distance between his teaching life and his person life. But seeing as Maka and Keshi had just bridged that distance between the two worlds, Aizawa decided the only thing to do would be to introduce them. Lifting his son up and beckoning his daughter over he turned to the class, whose roaring mumbles trickled into dead silence. “Everyone, this is my daughter Keshi and my son Maka. Keshi, Maka say hello to my students.” “Daddy are these the future hero students?!” His daughter asked with wide excited eyes. His son simply stared in amazement as his tiny hand timidly waved out to the teenagers. “Yes, they are.” “Put me down! Put me down!” Maka said suddenly fighting out of his father’s embrace. Before he knew it, his son was running between the rows of desks eyeing every single student. Most of the guys chuckled at the little boy’s antics and answered any questions he had about their quirks while the girls were squealing over the chubby toddler. “Sorry daddy, mama was trying to talk with her friend Ms. Midnight and she told me to watch Maka but he ran off to your class.” Keshi explained to her dad with a guilty look. He placed a hand on the girl’s soft messy hair and smiled. “That’s okay. Where is your mother?” “Oh she-” “I’m gonna be a hero too!” A determined little voice bellowed out from near the back of the class. Aizawa saw his son’s eyes sparkling as he clenched his little fists and stared up at a certain green haired student with determination. “Look what my quirk does!” Father senses kicked in as his son removed the glove from his left hand and knelt down to the floor. He saw the tips of his marker-like fingers ready to press to the ground before raising his voice. “Don’t draw on the floor!” Too late. The class chuckled at the boy’s cute lumpy character, which he looked rather proud of as he stared at it. “Wow, so your hands are markers? That’s pretty nea-” Midoriya stopped speaking as the image on the ground began to twitch. The entire class including the kid’s father watched on in amazement as a little 2d creature sprung up from the drawing and began crawling around the classroom. The two-year-old simply giggled in delight before looking to his father for praise. Aizawa felt his throat tighten at seeing his son’s quirk manifest for the first time. His quirk, it was just like- “Holy shit! Get it off me!” The class laughed as the explosive blonde tried swiping at the thing that was crawling over his body before hoping off. He’d let out a sigh of relief before practically jumping at the sudden appearance of his teacher’s daughter before him. “What the hell do you wa-” “That was a naughty word.” With that a small hand reached up and rubbed across his lips quickly but softly. Pulling away, the class was momentarily horrified to see Bakugou’s mouth completely gone as if wiped away. The teen began clawing at his face before the missing body part slowly rematerialized. Small sparks shot from Bakugou’s palms as he glared at the little girl, only to be surprised when her face didn’t falter an inch. “Keshi, don’t use your quirk on my students. Apologize.” Aizawa’s voice came out quiet but firm. “Sorry.” The young girl said never breaking eye contact. “You don’t sound sorry at all.” Bakugou said leaning towards her. “Because I’m not.” She whispered with a smirk before walking back over to her father. “Creepy little brat. She’s too much like her dad.” “Mr. Aizawa, we had no idea you had a family!” Mina exclaimed as she took a wonky 2d flower from a blushing Maka. “And with such impressive quirks!” Iida exclaimed examining the kid’s finger pads. “They really are amazing.” Izuku mumbled, jotting away in his journal. He tapped his pen to his lips momentarily before a figurative lightbulb went off. “I got it! Maka’s quirk reminds me of the former pro-hero, Scribble!” “That would be me.” A sweet voice called out from the front of the classroom. A beautiful woman in a wheelchair made her entrance into the classroom ignoring the dumbfounded stare from Aizawa. “Forgive me for interrupting your instruction time. I should have kept better tabs on my kids.” The woman said bowing her head slightly to the whole class. “Class was about to end in a few minutes anyway.” Aizawa said still staring at the chair the woman was sitting in. “Mama look what I made!” Maka said running up to her, holding his strange sentient drawing. The woman smiled brightly as she held her arm out to hold it and of course the class couldn’t help but notice it then. Midoriya, having known the back story of many pro-heroes, already knew to expect it but the attitude in the room shifted to see this wheel-chair bound woman with only a single arm. Before she could admire the drawing any further, the object suddenly melted into a little pool of ink that stained the woman’s palm. “Sorry mama!” “That’s okay baby, you’re still learning!” Mina suddenly took out a sheet of paper and placed her flower drawing on it to catch any ink spillage. “Wow! Ma’am it’s so amazing to meet you! I remember watching you on the news a few times when I was younger!” Izuku said standing up to give the woman a proper bow. “Please dear, don’t flatter me so much. And none of this ma’am business, I’m only 27!” “Oh yes sorry Mrs. Aizawa!” Izuku said with a big smile not missing the falter in her teacher’s face as well as the woman’s. “Just (Y/N) will do.” She said with a small fake smile. “Ahem for those of you who don’t know. This is (L/N) (Y/N), known by her hero name as Scribble. She’s Keshi and Maka’s mother.” While all the students said their hellos there was no denying that they all caught the weird way Mr. Aizawa had introduced her. “Mama mama! I found two new girlfriends in this class!” Maka exclaimed jumping into his mother’s lap. “What, two?!” Mina exclaimed, hopping up from her seat. “Who’s my competition?!” Behind her Tsuyu hid her own flower and heart drawing in her backpack. As the older woman laughed the release bell rang and all the students began to gather their stuff. Finally casting him a glance the woman attempted to speak up before Aizawa beat her to it. “Care to tell me why you’re in a wheelchair?” His students had cleared out by now and he was ready to let his questions free. The woman gave him a blank stare before turning to her kids with a huge smile. “Why don’t you two go and visit Uncle Zashi?” “Uncle Zashi! Uncle Zashi!!” The two exclaimed excitedly before bolting out of the classroom. “Well if you must know, they found the same issues as they did before. I chose to try a limb sparing surgery. It means I’ll have to be off my legs for a while but at least I actually get to keep them.” The dark-haired male scoffed but felt his demeanor soften as he grew worried again. “You could have kept me updated.” He replied with a slight damper in his voice. “What for?” An awkward silence spread between the two in the empty room before he spoke up once more. “I got to see Maka’s quirk. When did that happen?” “Last weekend. I know you were busy with training and couldn’t pick the kids up. He’s been super excited to show you ever since.” “And you didn’t you call to tell me that because…?” (Y/N) looked down at the lone hand in her lap. Aizawa wanted nothing more than to take back that stupid question, he knew damn well why she didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s just like my quirk used to be.” (Y/N) finally responded with a hoarse voice. Looking up she had an unreadable expression. “This is a long weekend, right? I’ll pick the kids up Monday afternoon. We already put all their stuff on your desk in the teacher work room. I’ll see you in a few days, Aizawa.” The whirl of the wheelchair’s motor hummed through the air as his ex-wife made her way out of the classroom. Staring after her retreating figure, Aizawa couldn’t help but think about how this was the most they’ve spoken in a year. ~~~~~ “Grilled cheese with pickle?” Aizawa asked with a quirked brow at his daughter’s weird request. “Yeah lots of pickles!” Keshi said slapping her hands on the table. “No crusts!” “Alright then. For you, Maka?” “Grilled cheese with tomato! Extra cheese and extra crispy!” “That’s how your mom likes her sandwiches too.” He commented feeling his own words tug at his heartstrings. He noticed his kids’ confusion as he pulled out the toaster along with a box of toaster bags. They watched as he prepared their sandwiches to their requests, placed them in little baggies and put them in the toaster. “What are you doing daddy?” Maka asked looking up at his father expectantly. “Making grilled cheese.” “That’s not the way mama does it!” He said a bit perplexed by his father’s unorthodox methods. Hearing that, Aizawa had vivid flashbacks to when he and (Y/N) were freshly graduated from U.A. New and broke heroes, he remembered fondly the way she would stand over the stove grilling sandwiches for dinner. He could imagine her sitting on the counter wiping her mouth, asking why he was staring at her so intensely, never realizing how beautiful she looked doing even the most mundane things. “But we will like them anyway daddy!” Keshi spoke up noticing a sudden crestfallen look on his face. “Maaakaa you made daddy cry!” Aizawa’s head snapped up at that comment. Looking up at his children, the blurred vision let him know that his eyes had indeed been watering. Rubbing at them he turned to put in his eyedrops. “I sorry daddy! I will eat all your food because its good like mama’s! Don’t be sad!” “No, don’t worry. You didn’t make me sad, I promise.” “Then why are your eyes teary, daddy?” Keshi asked with a small frown. Running a hand through his hair, he figured at the very least his eldest would understand what he meant. “I miss mama.” He answered honestly. “Why don’t you come visit us at mama’s house sometime?” “I don’t think mama wants me there.” “But why not daddy? I was asking some of my classmates and they say their mommies and daddies live together so why do you and mama have different homes?” Aizawa held his breath as he racked his mind for a way to answer that question. He knew things like this would eventually pop up as his kids got older but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be for awhile longer. “Well because moms and dads only live together when they are married. Mama and I aren’t married. Besides I need to stay here for my students.” He answered firmly, hoping it would be enough to squash the conversation. Sure, enough his kids wouldn’t let it go so easy. “Then why don’t you marry mama? Like me daddy, I’m gonna marry Ms. Mina and Ms. Tsu!” Maka said with a replenished sparkle in his eye. This caused his father to let out a sincere chuckle and smile at his kids. “Yeah daddy! Marry mama! You can bring her flowers like Uncle Zashi!” Aizawa felt his spine go rigid at his daughter’s innocent comment. He looked between both kids who held clueless smiles. He always promised himself he would never use his children as a means to get information about his ex-wife. He’d felt it was a scummy thing to do but right now he already felt like scum. “When did Uncle Zashi bring mama flowers?” “When she was in the hospital! Grandma and grandpa took care of us while mama was getting her legs fixed but sometimes Uncle Zashi would pick us up and we’d go eat and he’d take us to see mama. Every time he would bring her lots of flowers and candies!” “He’d buy us candy too!” “Would he now?” Aizawa had every emotion he’d ever felt whirling around in him before he smiled. “That’s good, I’m glad he bought my babies some sweets too.” “I’m no baby!” Maka protested with a little pout, before scrunching up his tiny nose. “Daddy something smells bad.” Snapping out of the conversation and his thoughts, Aizawa noticed that the sandwiches had yet to pop out despite the amount of time. Sure enough the toaster had been set to max and grey smoke was beginning to rise from the machine and burnt sandwiches. Quickly unplugging the machine, Aizawa lifted the toaster and rushed to place it outside the teacher’s dorms with his kids following on his trail. “Why does the toaster even go that high?!” His daughter exclaimed, trying to fan the smoke out of the building. “A villain must have been behind it!” Maka added, nibbling on a slice of cheese he snagged from the counter. “Okay, well dad tried. Get ready, we’re going out to eat.” The kids raced back inside, cheering. “And please brush your hair, Keshi!” “Brush yours, daddy!” “That’s fair.” He watched as his kids scrambled to get ready and finally let his face fall. Throwing himself on the nearest chair, he gripped at the area right above his heart. While he sincerely doubted that (Y/N) was dating Yamada, he couldn’t help but come to terms with something he hadn’t quite faced yet. They’d been divorced for 2 and a half years now. Eventually, if she hadn’t already, (Y/N) would move on. Maybe she’d get remarried, have another child, move across the world to be with that person. And yet his life hadn’t moved an inch since their split. He hadn’t dated or even shown an interest in doing so and he truly didn’t believe he would. (Y/N) was the only woman he’d loved ever and even when the two were still together he’d always told her that would never change. All he wanted was for things to be the way they were before. He needed her back in his life and he’d tried in the past to show that to her. He called to ask how she was doing but she always steered the conversation back to the kids. He would offer her gifts, but she refused every single one or gave it to their babies. Simple conversation wasn’t something he could make with her anymore and it killed him. Now it would seem even his best friend was closer to her than he was. She was and always would be the love of his life, but one thing was obvious. She was over him now. ~~~~~ (Y/N) opened her eyes slowly. Glancing over at the clock she cursed her sleep schedule for waking her so early. Turning over she was met with an empty bed. A space a husband hadn’t filled in years but one her babies found themselves in most mornings. She really tried to get them to sleep in their own beds but by morning one or both of them wound up starfishing it on the mattress, leaving their mother to cling to the edge. But the weekends were like this…lonely…empty. She couldn’t find it in her to feel too sorry for herself. Aizawa, she figured, felt like this five days of the week compared to her two. At the very least she could say he had his students to distract him on those days. The weekends were too quiet. Everything that needed to be done for the next week was always already completed. Often times she couldn’t help but think how much more busy her life would have been if she had taken the job offer at Shiketsu, instead of the average middle school she worked at now. It had been a job with better pay, better benefits, and more prestige but it had been too far west for them to make it work. Being so far away Aizawa would never have been able to see Maka and Keshi. Maybe once a month, if they were lucky every OTHER weekend. But she could never do that to them…to any of them. He might have been a crappy husband, but he’d always been a great father, and (Y/N) would have never made it hard for him to see his kids. Finally hauling herself out of bed and into her wheelchair, the woman went into the bathroom to prepare for her day. Smiling to herself she scrolled through YouTube to play her baby’s favourite song while she got ready. “Baby shark dododododododo Baby shark!” Running the brush through her tangles, (Y/N) laughed to herself imagining Maka singing the song in his usual off tune voice. Her joyous moment was cut short by a bing on her phone. Putting the brush down she grabbed her cell and opened the message from her friend Yamada. She’d known him since they were all in school together and was glad her divorce never made it so that she couldn’t still be his friend. ‘Let’s grab dinner tonight!’ ‘Sure but let’s make sure it’s a place that serves alcohol. I need a drink!’ ‘Same! I’ll pick you up at 7:00!’ ‘…Remember when we used to head out at 11?’ ‘We’re getting old…’ ‘Speak for yourself! See you then.’ (Y/N) felt relief for having something to do. Her phone suddenly went off again, catching her attention once more. ‘And (Y/N)…leave the ring at home. You’ll never meet someone with it on.’ Sighing heavily, she didn’t even bother to answer. She knew her friend thought it was a security blanket but honestly it was just her first line of defense. She wasn’t interested in romance or being flirted with. Putting her old wedding ring on when she went out drinking helped deter even just a few people from approaching her. It had nothing to do with her ex-husband. When he left he didn’t take much with him, didn’t even ask for the ring back. She’d tried returning it in the past but he insisted he didn’t want it and it was hers now, to pawn or give to the kids when they were older. It mostly spent its time in her junk drawer with several other gifts he’d tried thrusting upon her within the past few years. Jewelry, concert tickets, gift cards, fine clothes, things she couldn’t give away to her kids sat collecting dust in there. For a while it had been a constant thing, confusing her to no end. Aizawa was someone she barely understood when times were good between them. So, when they went bad…boy did they go bad. Only recently had he stopped trying to give her things or prod Yamada for info on her, that he would run to tell her about. In some ways she was happy. The divorce had been hard and that had only made it harder. Maybe she was also happy for him, he’d clearly not been happy in the marriage. Even after it was over, his actions trying to get her attention made her think he still wasn’t. But now that it finally stopped she figured maybe he finally was happy. Maybe he was finally moving on. Which meant…she’d have to as well. Rolling into the living room, she was snapped out of her thoughts when her wheelchair went over a bump. Looking down her eyes widened. Leaning down she swiped the object off the floor before rushing to dial her ex on the phone. It rang for a bit before going off to voicemail. “Dammit. Aizawa, Keshi forgot her extra EpiPen here at my house. I know you’re really careful with her but I’m gonna take it to you in case of emergencies. I’ll be there soon!” All thoughts of her tragic love life or drinking tonight went out the window as the frantic mother grabbed her things before heading out to her car. ~~~~~ “Oh come on it’s not like I’m some kind of stalker! I’m here on official business!” “Why do I find that hard to believe?” Aizawa said to Emi as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Daddy who’s that at the door?” Maka said grinding his tiny fist into his eyes, mirroring his father. The green haired woman blinked at the child a few times before squealing in delight. “No way, is this your baby!?” Ms. Joke exclaimed crouching down to pinch at his chubby cheeks, much to Maka’s disapproval. “I know you mentioned you had been married and had some kiddos, but I never knew they were such little cuties!” “This is my son Maka and please don’t baby him like that. Maka this is daddy’s friend Ms. Emi.” Maka swatted at her hands that ruffled his bed head. Before he could control it, he began giggling. “Don’t use your quirk on my kid!” Aizawa scolded, his eyes now glowing red and hair floating around. Much to his surprise Maka didn’t stop giggling, looking more closely he saw Emi making funny faces at his youngest. Turning off his own quirk he sighed. “You look just like your dad! How old are you sweetie!?” “Two.” The boy said smiling, holding up two random nonconsecutive fingers. “How about in sixteen years we get married?!” The woman said playfully, holding her hands out to the small boys who eyed her up and down. “No, you’re too old. Besides I have two future wives waiting for me!” “Ouch, being rejected by your toddler hurt more than by you.” Ms. Joke chuckled in a half jest. “What can I say? He is my son after all. Is your sister still asleep?” Aizawa asked Maka, looking back into the bedroom. “Yup. Mama said she’d sleep through the end of the world if you let her.” Emi snorted a laugh before beaming up at Aizawa. “Like father like kids huh?” “I guess. Would you like to join us for breakfast in the common area?” Aizawa asked begrudgingly. “I’d love to!” Emi responded quickly bouncing on her toes. “We can go over the paperwork my school sent your way.” “I wake up Keshi, daddy?” “No, let her sleep in for a few more hours. What do you feel like eating this morning?” The black-haired male asked looking down at the young boy who in turn stared down at his own little sock covered feet. “I not hungry, daddy.” “Really why not? Mama said you’ve been eating a lot in the morning.” When Maka had no response, Emi giggled into her palms. “Uh oh is daddy’s cooking that bad?” “It’s not and refrain from calling me ‘daddy’ if you don’t mind.” “What if I make breakfast for you guys?! After all you are doing me a huge favour by completing this paperwork so early in the morning! How about pancakes?” “Yeah!” Maka cheered suddenly running to cling onto the bottom of Ms. Joke’s shorts. “Please daddy?” The little boy pleaded putting on his glossiest puppy eyes. “Yeah pllleease daddy?” The cheerful woman said teasingly, hoisting the young boy up onto her hip. “Ugh fine. Just don’t put any c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e in it because Maka gets hyper. And definitely no berries, Keshi is severely allergic. Which reminds me, Maka where is her pen?” “Mama put it in the paw patrol packpack.” “Alright, be good with Ms. Emi while I look for it okay?” “Okay daddy. Come on Memi!” Maka exclaimed pushing out of her hold and tugging on her hand to lead the way. “Memi? How cute!” Soon enough the seafoam haired woman was flipping hot pancakes on the stove catching Maka observing her carefully from the corner of her eyes. He had been informing her about his favourite shows and YouTube videos while she listened intently, nodding and humming in acknowledgement. Aizawa had still yet to join them, she figured he was having a hard time finding his daughter’s EpiPen. In the back of her mind she couldn’t help but vaguely imagine that this would be her life if she ever got the chance with Aizawa. “Here you go love.” Emi said placing a single large pancake onto the boy’s awaiting plate. Gingerly she drizzled thin lines of syrup not wanting to get the kid too hyper. She watched in amusement as he attempted slicing the pancake, poking and mushing it down with his fork. When all else failed she witnessed him lift the entire thing with his hands and bring it to his mouth to take a chomp out of it. “Woah woah here let me cut it for you!” Maka placed the pancake down before something across the room caught his eye. Emi saw his eyes light up as the little boy went running. “Mama mama!” Ms. Joke turned to the entrance only to see a worried looking woman come in on a motorized chair. She watched Maka barrel towards her before flinging himself into her lap. “Hi my baby!” The woman said, squeezing her son with her one arm. “We are going home now?” “Not yet sweetheart, Keshi just forgot her medicine at home. Eww why are your hands so sticky?” The boy’s mother asked with a chuckle. “Syrup. Memi made me pamcake.” “Memi?” (Y/N) questioned finally looking up at the attractive woman now standing only a few feet away. “Hi, I’m Emi Fukukado.” She said holding out a hand to shake only to feel like an asshole when she realized the woman was missing the proper arm to offer. She dropped the gesture right away and noticed a bright smile come onto the woman’s face. “Ahh yes the prohero Ms. Joke correct? I believe you used to work near Maka’s father? I’m (Y/N) (L/N), the mother.” Ms. Joke’s mouth formed into a soft ‘o’ shape. Aizawa had always spoken of a wife since they’d known each other. She’d also known of the pro hero Scribble, whose hero career was cut tragically short. But she’d never known they were one in the same. “She’s daddy’s friend, mama.” Maka offered with a smile. “Daddy said to call her Memi.” “Sounds kind of like mommy, huh?” (Y/N) said ruffling her boy’s hair only for Emi’s heart to sink into her stomach. “I think he’s just having trouble with my name. Aizawa and I are-” “Oh here do you mind giving this to him? It’s Keshi’s EpiPen, she’s allergic to-” “Berries! Yeah Aizawa had been looking everywhere for this! I’ll be sure to give it to him right away!” (Y/N)’s smile faltered slightly before sighing and kissing Maka on the forehead, placing him down on the ground. “Alright baby, mama has to go now.” Maka began to whine slightly. His watery eyes were hard to ignore. “I go with you!” “Don’t you want to stay with daddy?” “Yes, but wanna go with you too!” The little boy hiccupped with tears running down his chubby cheeks. “Don’t leave! I wanna be with you AND daddy!” Emi felt her heartstrings constrict tightly like a violin. Aizawa never told her anything about his ex-wife so she couldn’t pretend to know the whole story. But it was obvious the young boy was struggling with the divorce in a way he couldn’t articulate. Leaning down to lift up the black-haired child Emi smoothed her hand over his head and shushed him. He rested his head on her shoulder taking in shaking breaths, clearly trying to calm himself. Her hand rubbed circles into his back soothingly, but his breathing was still ragged. “Hey come on, I’m sure mama is really busy! Your dad has the best time when you’re here! Maybe when Keshi get’s up we can go to the park!” He was shaking his head while his wails now verged onto hysteric levels. Emi was beginning to panic and was about to place the child in his mother’s waiting embrace before he began pushing out of her arms, kicking and grabbing for his mother to pick him up. “No! Mama! Mama! Go with you and daddy!” “Emi, what did you do to Maka? Why is he crying like that?” Aizawa said suddenly appearing from his bedroom looking disheveled. His eyes found the two women and child right away, widening when he processed the image before him. Speeding walking up to them he took Maka from his colleague quickly. “(Y/N), I didn’t know you were coming. Is everything okay?” The disheveled man attempted to smooth down his crazy hair with his one free hand while patting his still sobbing son. Of course (Y/N) looked fucking gorgeous this early in the morning and he looked like a hungover swap rat. “I called but I suppose you were busy. Fukukado said you were looking for Keshi’s EpiPen, but the kids may have knocked it out of the bag. I decided to bring it over and now that Maka is calming down I’ll be going.” Aizawa looked at the child in his arms who was now drifting back to sleep. Taking a few quick steps towards his ex he attempted to reach a hand out to her shoulder and wasn’t at all surprised when she pulled back. Didn’t mean it hurt any less though. “Would you like to stay and chat? We can have breakfast or coffee.” He offered feeling the heavy tension in the room as Ms. Joke shifted her weight and averted her eyes. “Thank you for the offer but I wouldn’t want to intrude. Besides I have plans for tonight that I need to get ready for. Bye Fukukado. Aizawa.” The dark-haired male watched as the woman made her way out the building. Why the hell hadn’t he charged his phone last night? Why did he have to be busy when she came? Why did Emi have to be here? He knew that (Y/N) probably assumed she was his lover and it shouldn’t matter…but deep down he didn’t want her to think that. “Hey, I’m really sorry Eraser.” Emi whispered, finally speaking up. “Just sign the paper for me and I’ll be out of here.” Breathing out a huge sigh, Aizawa walked back to his room to lay Maka in bed next to his sister. Smoothing his black hair out of his face he turned to his colleague with a small smile. “Why don’t you stay and have breakfast with me? I wouldn’t want your cooking to go to waste.” Ms. Joke seemed surprised but nodded eagerly, following the tired man out of the room. Though the experience was much more awkward than she had anticipated. Aizawa was silently eating his breakfast and sipping a glass of juice. He wasn’t trying to make conversation and Emi figured he was too deep in thought to hold one she started. That’s when she noticed it, a small sparkle around his neck. Whatever was on the end of his necklace was carefully tucked away into his black shirt. If she looked closely enough, she could make out a circular pattern pushing through. He didn’t seem the type to wear jewelry, so she felt comfortable making the assumption she was about to voice. “I guess that’s why I still don’t have a chance with you huh?” “What?” “I mean I knew back when you were married that you were 100% loyal but even now I’ll never have a chance. And that’s because you’re still in love with your ex-wife.” “Don’t psychoanalyze my situation.” “Oh come on I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen your eyes light up the way they did when you saw (Y/N). When you talk about your kids sure, but that’s a different kind of sparkle. Then I saw you trying to fix your appearance up for her, last time you did that was for the sake of U.A because you’d be on national television.” Reaching across the table Ms. Joke tugged on the chain around his neck that sent a wedding ring flying out of his shirt. She watched him glance down at the low swinging object not verbally confirming anything. “You wear your old wedding ring around your neck. I know I come on really strong all the time but as a friend I want to know what happened? Why did she divorce you?” Aizawa fiddled with the gold band, glancing between the woman in front of him and his plate. Having been divorced for what would soon be 3 years, he hadn’t had to tell this story in a long time. And even then, only so many people knew the details. “I was the one who asked for the divorce.” He noticed Emi raise her eyebrows in shock, but she gave no response and waited for him to continue. “It’s a really long-winded story but to put it shortly, I made a decision for her and she didn’t agree with it and we just couldn’t be together after.” “I’m going to need more than that. Does…does it have anything to do with the incident that made her retire? I mean the press talked about it like a tragic decision she had to make for her family’s sake. She was only 23 and to be retired that shortly after debuting...” “She was gonna be big. Her name would have been up there with some of the greatest. I was so sure of it. Her rank was moving fast, her quirk was amazing. Hell, even after having Keshi so young, she was back out there… It wasn’t my decision to make, I know that, but I did.” “Sho, calm down love. You already upset Keshi with all that screaming outside.” (Y/N) said swinging her legs from the high examination table as they waited for the doctor. “You were at an elementary school for god’s sakes. It was supposed to be simple and easy, you just broke that arm and to rebreak it? Where the hell was Mic?” “Babe he was right there giving the presentation with me, you already interrogated him in the waiting room. A seven-year-old lost control of their quirk for a split second. I’m fine, it hurts like a bitch but I’m okay. Come here.” Aizawa shuffled over to his wife and allowed her to pull his head to her chest as she stroked his hair. He could feel her laying soft kisses on the top of his head. His eyes snapped open when he felt her tracing a pattern on his back. He knew she was drawing on the back of his shirt but didn’t pull away. “Love don’t move that arm.” “Come on, it’s already all cast up.” A loud meow filled the room and with a sudden kick off from his back Aizawa turned to see a plump chalk outlined cat sitting on the ground licking itself. He reached down to pick it up and touched its fur, if he didn’t look at it he would think he was holding the actual animal. “Mr. and Mrs. Aizawa?” A sudden voice echoes into the room. (Y/N) took her opposite uninjured hand and swiped it over the cat, erasing it from her husband’s arms. “Took you long enough. How is my wife’s arm? Will it have permanent damage because she had already broken it recently? Why did you have to run so many tests?” “To have the same bone broken twice, we were admittedly worried. Well we ran some scans of your body we noticed two separate things that need to be addressed. One possibly good and the other potentially very bad.” (Y/N) and Aizawa looked at each other with a slight bit of worry. “I guess we’ll hear the bad first.” Both watched as the doctor placed images on the lit board in the room. He pointed at a dozen or more milky dots littering her humerus. The big words he was using were flying over (Y/N)’s head while Aizawa seemed to be clinging to his every one of them. Finally, a certain word stuck out. “Wait, tumor?” “Tumors. All of these dots in the scan, we are unsure if they are benign or malignant at this point.” “Malignant? What you mean like cancer? You think I have bone cancer?” Her voice asked timidly only for her husband to grab her good hand and give it a slight squeeze. “We don't want to say that just yet but on first glance it doesn't look good. Have you been experiencing unexplained pain in that arm?” “No I-“ “Well wait yes she was complaining about a dull ache for almost half a year now.” Aizawa interrupted suddenly. (Y/N) shot him a look but he paid her no mind. “But I use my arm a lot in hero work so I'm sure it's just soreness!” “And your friend Mr. Hizashi informed us that the child merely bumped you when your arm broke? Such little force to cause a break is-” “Well he was kind of far! I don't think he saw properly! That kid had a strength quirk, so he could have put a lot of force-” “(Y/N) it's okay.” Her husband said grabbing her face gently and pressing his forehead to hers. When she’d finally calmed down he pulled away and looked at the doctor. “Okay so let's assume the worst. If it is bone cancer how do we...what do we do next? How do we treat that?” “Normally in the case of a single malignant tumour we can perform an extraction in the target area only. However, in this case, there are nearly a dozen tumours in her humerus. It would likely be advised to perform a full amputation of the limb.” “No! No no no I can't let you do that! My quirk is activated with this arm! Look see my chalk tips?! Without this arm I have no quirk!” “Yes, we've been made aware. In any other case we would suggest chemotherapy or radiation. That wouldn't be the best treatment but it would be another option.” “Then we'll do that!” “Here is where a problem may lie. The other thing our test showed was that you are currently pregnant.” The room went silent. The hands that had been clasping each other slightly went slack. Clearing her throat, (Y/N) had to restate what she just heard to be sure it was actually what was said. “Me? I'm pregnant? We're having another baby?” “Yes. Now it would seem you are very early in your pregnancy. That doesn't mix well with the other options.” “You mean it could hurt the baby?” “It's possible. Chemo is a risk to the fetus in the first trimester. Radiation is a risk up until delivery. If you choose to carry to term, amputation would be your best option.” “Well we aren't aborting, right?” Aizawa asked, looking to his wife for approval and saw her nod in agreement. “So, we only have one option.” “Amputation.” “No treatment.” Both spouses looked at the other as if they’d gone absolutely insane. “What do you mean 'no treatment'? That wasn’t an option.” Aizawa was the first to speak up. “Well I'm making it one. If we choose not to treat what would happen?” “Well you'd have the same symptoms as now, pain brittle bones but eventually if we fear the worst the cancer could metastasize. If that happens it will be much harder to get rid of.” “What are the chances of it metastasizing within 9 months?” “With how many tumours and depending on how bad it is the chances are not in your favour.” “Okay so here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna hold off for a few months until it's safe to start chemo, then we do that. Once I have the baby we can do radiation. But I'm not risking my baby or my hero career.” “So, you’ll risk your life?” Aizawa asked finally letting go of her hand entirely. “I will be fine for a few months. Everything will be okay love. I promise.” “But it wasn’t, I’m assuming?” Ms. Joke asked interrupting Aizawa’s thousand-yard stare. “She’d always been so stubborn. Who the hell even fights crime while pregnant? She took on jobs up until Keshi was born and intended to do so with Maka. I kept telling her to stop, especially with her conditions. She always wanted to save everyone but what about herself? So, I get a call one day that she’d been hurt by a villain, really badly, blood everywhere.” Aizawa took in a few shallow breaths. He could still remember the frantic call from Midnight. He was still hearing (Y/N)’s screams of agony, the very same arm completely shattered from fingertip to shoulder. Her x-rays were like nothing he’d ever seen, her bones had been splintered into something that he would no longer call bones. Mic had been holding Keshi, looking just as nervous. When (Y/N) had lost consciousness from the pain her decision now became his. “The doctors told me they could reset everything back in place. That it wouldn’t be easy but it was possible. Yet in the back of my mind not a day had gone by since she’d gotten the news, that I didn’t wish she’d chosen to not take any risks. So, as her medical proxy, I approved the amputation.” Emi gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. She knew it was a hard decision and she would never sit there and judge him. But she couldn’t imagine waking up suddenly quirkless, having someone take the decision away from you. To know that everything you worked for suddenly came to a dead halt. “She didn’t even need to be told it was me. When she woke up and found out what happened she cried. I mean she sobbed, we couldn’t even bring Keshi in there because we knew it would upset her. When she finally calmed down and she told she’d never forgive me.” “So how were you the one who ended up asking for a divorce?” “I stayed by her side for a few months. But I would always catch these looks she’d give me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Looks as if she hated me, as if she was struggling to even be around me. Things weren’t the same after that, she wasn’t affectionate, and we didn’t talk like we used to. I didn’t want to keep her in a marriage she wasn’t happy in, so I filed for divorce a few months before Maka was born.” “Hmm don’t take offense to this but that’s kind of a dick move.” Aizawa’s head snapped up, not expecting to hear something like that from Ms. Joke. She noticed the look on his face and held her hands up in defense. “Don’t get me wrong, I know it must have been difficult in a way I could never imagine but I can’t help to think of her side you know? I mean in less than a year you find out you have cancer, lose your quirk and your job, then lose your husband all while being pregnant with his child. You gave her a few months to process something that probably would have taken ten times longer.” “I didn’t want her to be upset.” “Or did you not want her to be upset with you? I know it was hard on you, to think that your wife hates you. Now imagine that feeling times two because I bet that’s what she was going through. To me it sounds like you hated that your wife didn’t idolize you anymore. You hated that you gave her a reason to rightfully be upset with you…so you left.” “Yeah well who asked you?” Aizawa mumbled looking into his cup. “No one but if you did ask me, I would tell you that I think she still loves you too. I think if given the chance she would take you back.” “Huh well as usual, you’re wrong.” “Hmm why do you say that?” “I’ve given her chances to take me back. Chances to even just talk to me but she shoots down every single one. If anything, giving these ‘chances’ have only made things worse. Maybe a year ago when I was living at my old apartment, while the kids were sleeping…we spent a night together. I hadn’t been with her or anybody since we split, and I thought I finally had her back. But when I woke up she’d already left. We’d been MARRIED and she treated me like a one-night stand.” Emi could hear how hard it was for him to talk about this, how uncomfortable he was. She didn’t pry yet he continued on. “I tried talking to her about it and I realized that she could separate sex and love as two different things. I couldn’t and didn’t want it to happen again. Really it just severed us even more.” “Hmm this is a tricky situation. I’m 99% sure she’s still in love with you. She looked super jealous when she saw me in here with Maka.” “Of course, but that’s because you were holding her baby, it had nothing to do with me.” “I don’t think so. This wasn’t motherly instinct anger, this was ‘back off my man’ anger. Hmm well this is gonna sound stupid, but did you ever tell her you were sorry for what happened.” “I’m sorry for the consequences but I’m not sorry for the decision I made.” “Did you ever tell her you were sorry for how you made her feel?” The silence between the two was enough of an answer. Emi sighed but smiled at her friend. “Even if it’s years late…say you’re sorry. Tell her you’re in love with her and never stopped being. Tell her how much you want her back and pray it all works out.” Aizawa looked deeply into the woman’s eyes before letting out a short sigh and averting his eyes back onto his plate. “And if she does turn you down…well I’m always available for a date. I’m good with kids and cats!” This got a surprisingly genuine laugh from the man, startlingly Ms. Joke more than anything had that morning. “I know you are, Emi.” ~~~~~ “It’s not fair Yamada! She was so hot!” (Y/N) whined like a teenager as she took another gulp of her drink. “You’ve been hung up on Ms. Joke for the past 4 hours. Do you want to date her or be her?” “Yes!” The two giggled stupidly as (Y/N) appreciated the loud noises of the bar they were in. She was more grateful than ever that Yamada was able to meet tonight and get her mind off things. “Besides why does it bother you so much?” “Because my ex is moving on to bigger and better things. Career wise and in his love life. Yet here I am still stuck in my same old routine. My life has only gone downhill since the split.” “I told you, you shouldn’t have let the divorce go through. You should have taken those divorce papers and ripped them right in front of his face.” “Then Aizawa would have stayed miserable married to me.” “Fuck him!” “Ugh god I wish. I would take another session with him in a heartbeat. How does he manage to look even better than when we were in high school? While I got this mom body to deal with.” “Shut up, you’re still hot.” “You only say that cause you haven’t seen the real story! Clothes can hide a lot!” “Can’t hide everything. (Y/N), you’re a milf if I’ve ever seen one!” (Y/N) choked on her drink before busting out laughing. “Dude shut the hell up, you have to say that because you’re my friend!” “What? I’m just letting you know if you weren’t my best friend’s ex-wife, you’d be my current wife! Look don’t take my word for it. Hey c’mere!” The loud blonde called out to some random guy walking by. “Yamada stop!” (Y/N) urged all while stifling a giggle. After enough arm flailing, the stranger made his way over to the couple of tipsy friends. “If given the opportunity would you or would you not take my friend to the nearest hotel and have kinky sex with her all night?” “Yamada!” “Hell yeah, if she’s offering!” “See I told you, you still got it.” Yamada said with a cocky smirk before his face faltered as a strong set of hands began messaging his shoulders. “What about you, beautiful? You can join us too. Make it a really fun night.” (Y/N) let out a hysterical giggle as the man blew air onto her friend’s ear and he instantly recoiled with a girlish scream. “Sorry I don’t have enough alcohol in my system for that!” “Well how much more do you think it will take?” The stranger said reaching into his wallet. “A few drops short of alcohol poisoning! Come on (Y/N), let’s go!” (Y/N) continued to laugh as she wheeled out after her bolting friend. Once they were a few feet away from the bar, the blonde man turned to his friend with a pout. “It’s not funny!” “You should have gone for him he wasn’t bad.” “Yeah well my standards go a little higher than ‘not bad’. Besides that man wanted to ravish me, take away my innocence!” “Your innocence!? Bitch please, if you’re innocent then I’m a virgin!” “Rude! You make me seem like a cheap slut.” Her friend pouted slightly. “Aww no come on. You’re an expensive slut! All someone has to do is mention how much they love your radio show and boom you’re waking up in a stranger’s bed.” Hizashi did chuckle a bit at the truth behind that statement. He’d gone out with (Y/N) enough times for her to see his patterns of casual flings. Which in mentioning only made him curious. “I do tend to get pretty sidetracked when we go out like this. What happens to you? Do you ever find anyone that catches your interest?” (Y/N) slowly stopped laughing and began wheeling towards the park across the street. Not leaving her friend hanging she just sort of shrugged her shoulders. “Not really.” “So…have you BEEN WITH anyone since you got divorced? Besides of course that time you used Aizawa.” The blonde threw his hands up in defense when he saw the woman shoot him an icy glare. “I didn’t use him okay. He wanted it just as much as I did, he just had to go and make things weird after. And to answer your question…yes I have been with other people.” “Oh yeah? How many?” “Like one practically every weekend the kids are with their father.” “Shiiiiit and you’re calling me the slut? How come I’ve never gotten a turn?” “Because Aizawa would string you up to the tallest tower in Japan.” “Wait so you score a new body each week and you still think you’re not attractive? Biiitch you were just fishing for compliments at this point.” “Yeah well if I’m so hot how come Aizawa didn’t want me?” Hizashi stopped walking and watched his friend carry on. Very rarely did she speak about her feelings on the divorce in this manner. No matter how drunk he got her, her confessions were always full of comical anger or humorous self-deprecation. She never said anything so serious. “Didn’t want you? You’re joking right? You know that man has been pining for you since highschool and kicked it into overdrive the past three years. I’ve told you all this before. I know you don’t like to mention it but you can talk to me about this you know? It’s been a long time…don’t you think it’s time to talk about it with someone?” “Whatever, people pinning over others don’t divorce their pregnant wives. They don’t break apart their families. They don’t make life changing decisions for the other knowing damn well its not what they want. They don’t ruin everything you ever worked for! I worked hard to have a nice family and be this great hero and he took it all away from me.” (Y/N) stopped her wheelchair and wiped at her damp eyes. “He took everything from me, and he never even apologized for it.” “Would you have forgiven him even if he did?” Hizashi said kicked at the rock on the sidewalk. “Because from what I remember, you told him the opposite. But I don’t think your deal is forgiving him, it’s about forgiving yourself.” “What the hell do I have to forgive myself for?” “For almost hurting your family more than he did.” Hizashi sighed before plopping on the park bench. “You’ve always been a proud girl and if I had half your power or charisma, I would have been the same. It made you a great hero, but it also made you a pain in the ass. (Y/N), there was no perfect ending to your situation. Aizawa knew that no matter what someone was going to lose something.” “Yeah well why did it have to be me who lost everything? And why did he get to decide that?” “Because you didn’t lose everything and he’s the reason you didn’t. Remember when you came into that hospital completely broken, they told you Maka was in distress. There was so much going on and another incident like that… Aizawa made the choice for him to lose you so that he could keep Maka and so Maka could keep you. You both could have died or just Maka or just you. His reason for leaving you was selfish but not his reason for choosing what he did.” (Y/N) continued to let the hot tears stream down her face as she took in her friend’s words. “I know you were hurt. I know he made a mistake not talking it over with you more. And he made an even bigger one by being a coward and running instead of sticking with you. But (Y/N) you got to let him make mistakes because he let you make yours.” “What good does any of that do me now? It’s been years and the things I’ve said to him…the way I treated him. He’d never wait so long just off hope alone.” “I don’t think that man could give up on you if he tried. Talk to him and if things don’t go the way you want, I would make an excellent step-dad!” “Stupid!” ~~~~~ “Mama’s gonna be maaaaad!” Maka sing-songed as his father’s heart pounded hard. “Yeah mad at daddy!” Keshi mocked shaking her head to feel her newly shortened hair sway back and forth. “You know better than to fall asleep with gum in your mouth.” Aizawa said fruitlessly attempting to smooth down her tangled bob. “How the hel-heck is your hair still a mess even this short?” “Well like father like daughter no?” The familiar voice came from the doorway. “Mama!” Keshi and Maka called out in unison as they ran over to the smiling woman. She ran her hand through the young girl’s short hair. “I’m sorry (Y/N). One of my students gave her bubblegum and she napped with it and it ended up in her hair and-” “I think it’s lovely. Very cute and accentuates those beautiful sleepy eyes of yours.” Aizawa couldn’t help but blush. He knew she was referring to their daughter but everyone had always said he and Keshi shared the same tired eyes. “We are very sorry ma’am!” A blonde boy said looking just a bit nervous. “We gave her some gum without asking.” (Y/N) was surprised by the small gaggle of apologetic boys standing behind her family and smiled. Knowing Aizawa, he had probably forced them to come and apologize to her. The thought made her giggle slightly. “But you’re right! She does look really cute with that haircut!” Kaminari offered rubbing his palm across the girl’s head, static electricity making it fluff up. The girl’s cheeks puffed in anger as she pulled away from him. “She’s too young for you, go away.” Aizawa said his hair slowly floating. “W-what!? That’s not what I meant!” “Hey be careful this guy’ll fall for anyone whose nice to him.” Kirishima said slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Well then I will have to be mean to him!” Keshi mumbled running to bury her pink face in her father’s leg. “Besides I like Shiso bestest. He reminds me of daddy!” “It’s Shinsou. Shiso is a type of plant.” “The kid from the Sports Festival?” (Y/N) asked Aizawa who nodded quickly. “The resemblance is uncanny. When I saw him on T.V I was sure I was looking at an old high school photo of yours. I almost thought maybe you had a secret love child you never told me about.” The woman teased. Todoroki’s eyes widened and his lips parted to speak before Midoriya gently placed a hand in front of his mouth. “We should probably get going now so you can get situated.” Iida spoke up, ushering his classmates out the door. “Mama you aren’t mad at daddy, are you?” Maka asked sweetly. “Of course not baby, hair grows back.” “Then he can come live with us and you two can get married?” The young boy asked hopefully, making Aizawa’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Leave it to a toddler to have the attention span of a ferret when you need him to remember something and then to spill every detail to your ex-wife that you figured he would have forgotten. “Go on daddy, tell mama that you miss her!” His daughter urged pulling his fingers towards his wife and son. “Keshi, that’s enough. Go take Maka and both of you go potty before you get in the car.” Both kids seemed to be visibly disappointed that nothing seemed to change but did as their father told them. (Y/N) watched as their little bodies turned the corner and against her better judgment looked up at Aizawa. “(Y/N) I didn’t put them up to that or anything. I would never use our kids to guilt you and I ju-” “I know, Sho.” She hadn’t called him that nickname in years. He missed it even though he’d told her how much he hated it when they were together. “And when you came over and saw Ms. Joke. She and I aren’t dat-” “It’s really none of my business.” “Well it is because you need to know who’s around our babies. I’m not dating anyone, she’s just a colleague.” “I see…I’m not dating anyone either. Not even Yamada, he told me you were worried about that. I would never do that to you, you know…date your best friend.” “You’ve never even thought about it?” “You got me there. I can’t lie. He’s attractive and attentive and great with our kids but when I look at him all I see is you. If I wanted him, I would’ve chosen him back in highschool.” Aizawa was staring at the woman in awe. She was speaking with him like a normal person. There was no ill intended sarcasm or strained disinterest. He didn’t know why it was happening but he figured it didn’t matter either way. Getting onto his knees so he would be level with her eyes, Aizawa placed his hand on her knee. The young woman looked taken aback but didn’t move away or push him off. “(Y/N), I can sit here and blame you for never getting to do this. To imply that you never gave me the chance to say it would be wrong because I had three years to tell you and it shouldn’t have taken me this long to make it happen. I am so sorry for what I did to you. You needed me and I left you. I saw everything you were losing, and I didn’t stop and think that I shouldn’t let you lose me too.” The woman almost looked like she wanted to cry before scoffing and turning her head. “Idiot. None of us lost anything important. I lost a job but I found another. I lost a quirk but I found it again through Maka. Our children are both alive and happy. If anything all we lost was us…our marriage.” “This was the only way I was willing to lose you and I knew I would. I wasn’t going to let you die. I could stand to lose you as a wife but I couldn’t stand for the kids to lose their mother.” “I know. If you had a chance to go back and do things over would you have changed any of it?” “Any of it? Yeah, I would. After I made the decision, I never would have left you. You needed time and I didn’t give it to you. I’d have given you the world. But if you’re asking if my decision would have been different…no. I could live my life a thousand times and I would always choose to make that call.” “I see…” “I guess that’s not exactly what you wanted to hear.” “Well-” “We’re ready momma! Let’s go get food!” Maka said barreling into his mom’s lap. “What? Food? You little piggies are always eating! But I suppose we can grab something to eat before we head home.” “Yay! We say bye to daddy now?” Maka asked looking just a little sad. (Y/N) looked into those bright round eyes and pressed her lips to the child’s forehead before smiling brightly. “Why don’t you ask daddy if he would like to have dinner with us?” Aizawa’s head snapped up in disbelief. “Yes daddy please come eat with us!!!” His kids said now crowding around him. Looking up (Y/N) was smiling at the image of her children and their father together. “Wahhh! Daddy why are you crying now?” Keshi called him out immediately, only for the man to laugh and wipe at his eyes. “I would love to come have dinner with you guys.” “And then you come live with us? Or we live here with you!” Maka exclaimed excitedly. “One step at a time, kid.” “Come on daddy! I will race you and Maka to the car!” Keshi called out already making a bolt for the car with Maka trailing behind her. “Hurry up or you’ll lose.” “No, I don’t think I will.”

#aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa scenerio #mha aizawa #mha scenarios #mha #mha x reader #bnha scenario #bnha #bnha x reader #x reader #readerinsert #x s/o

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that-damn-girl · 4 years

Text

Moves

(Oneshot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)female!reader

Words: 3000+

Type: Fluff/Smut. Self-love/appreciation.

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Accidental voyeurism. Language. Unprotected sex.

Summary: In order to relax after a long day you decide to dance around naked in your room, unaware of your accidental audience or how you’re about to get lucky.

A/N: This is for a Drunk Drabbles request by @the-ss-horniest-book-club .The prompt is in bold below. Listen to Work From Home by Fifth Harmony. Little huge inspiration is taken from that one episode of ‘Friends’. Hope you like it!

Darkness loomed around the unlit sections of the compound. The inward side of the hollow square building right in front of your bedroom windows was much the same.

It was silent than most other nights. Maybe it was for the fact that all the others had been on a mission, leaving only you and Bucky in the compound. But it wasn’t like Bucky liked making his presence known. If he didn’t want to bother you with anything unnecessary, it was more than fine with you.

The day had been long, too long for your liking. Not much physically, but mentally you were exhausted out of your mind. Filing mission reports and going through those of others for an entire day would do that to anyone. Except Steve. God, you had a newfound respect for Steve’s tolerance of these dumb things.

Regardless, you welcomed the silence and solitude with open arms. It gave you the best opportunity to do what you’d been desperately wanting to do for a while now.

A long and blissful bath later you emerged from your bathroom wrapped in a fluffy towel. The dark in your room was switched on to a faint gleam while the soothing music from your speakers changed tunes to those of sultry ones under your command.

I ain’t worried ‘bout nothin’

I ain’t wearin’ na nada

I’m sittin’ pretty, impatient, but I know you gotta

Put in them hours, I'mma make it hotter

I’m sending pic after picture, I'mma get you fired

As their melody struck your ears, your hips slowly started swaying. The flirtatious lyrics hit and your eyes closed out of their own accord. Hands splayed out in the air and your body started dancing provocatively.

You felt good about yourself and your body. Something in the moment made you feel sexy. Attractive. Desirable. It was an uplifting feeling, sending you in a cheerful mood.

A boost of confidence encircled you as you started unwrapping the towel around you seductively and without haste. Your hips never stopped swaying to the tunes. You didn’t know why, but you imagined yourself performing for an audience. It was a man in your thoughts. Though a faceless one, but with want and need for you clear in his eyes.

I know you’re always on the night shift

But I can’t stand these nights alone

And I don’t need no explanation

‘Cause baby, you’re the boss at home

Your thoughts once flickered to the wide open curtains of your window behind your bed, but looking at the lightless rooms in front of you, your reasoning convinced you to pay no heed. There was only one other living soul in the compound whose room was on your side of the building. Unless Bucky didn’t venture out to the other side, he had no way of seeing or knowing about your activities.

Suddenly, Bucky’s images clouded your brain as if on cue. The faceless man on your bed took the form of the metal armed man, enjoying your act with pure lust in his eyes. The mental pictures burned your insides with desire. You didn’t oppose the illustrations entering your brain. On the contrary, they were rather enjoyed and encouraged.

Without second thoughts you started enacting the sensuous steps you’d seen in various videos. Hands moved all over your body, being dragged slowly from your legs, through your torso and in between the valley of your breasts to your head before grabbing your hair in your hands and posing for your mind crafted Bucky.

You don’t gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work

But you gotta put in work, work, work, work, work, work, work

You don’t gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work

Let my body do the work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work

We can work from home, oh, oh, oh oh

As your hands stretched out to your knee caps, your hips moved down when you bent your knees and and then back up with a grinding motion.

You let yourself loose in the harmony as you felt the influential disposition of the lyrics. It was empowering to say in the least. As you danced to them, you could sense seduction and enchantment roll out of you in waves, drawing in all the positive vibes around you.

Hands spread out in the air imitating other alluring steps. Your body followed risque and steamy movements. An ounce of shame didn’t touch your mind as you revelled in the fortitude and boldness you experienced.

Let’s put it into motion

I'ma give you a promotion

I’ll make it feel like a vacay, turn the bed into an ocean

We don’t need nobody, I just need your body

Nothin’ but sheets in between us, ain’t no getting off early

For a moment you wondered what it’d be like to have an actual audience; to actually have Bucky and perform to him as such. A rush of hunger and yearning coursed through you, making you wish it all was true. You knew it wasn’t though. Happy with your own self, you didn’t mind the disappoint. After all, you had to make do with was with you. There was no point in crying after what wasn’t.

Only if you’d known how well your prayers were being answered to.

~~~

The stars shone bring against the black backdrop. Some twinkled, others didn’t. Bucky had a perfect view of the half moon shining bright in the night sky.

Sitting on a chair near the larger than life windows - literally, it’s Stark - with his feet propped up on the edge of the bed, Bucky quite enjoyed star gazing from the absolute darkness of his room. He didn’t have any lights on since the common area lights from below poured into his room enough for his enhanced eyes.

Another source of illumination popped up in his peripheral vision. When he spun his head, he found out that it was from your room. Your towel clad figure appeared and started swinging your behind rather lewdly. You had his full and undivided attention.

As you moved about your room with legs and hands working to create sensual and bawdy movements, he felt guilty about watching and intruding on your private moment. He’d intended to turn his head away. He really did. Until you started undressing.

His eyes were as wide as saucers when he was what was happening in front of his eyes. Your naked body did erotic and obscene dance moves with agility. His sweats did little to constrict the twitching and hardening of his member.He wasn’t proud of himself for gawking at you when of course you didn’t want him to. Or did you?

I know you’re always on the night shift

But I can’t stand these nights alone

And I don’t need no explanation

‘Cause baby, you’re the boss at home

Not considering the headrest of your bed partly in front of your windows, it definitely looked like you were performing it for him. He’d shifted rooms from your side of the building to his side, so that him and Steve lived in rooms next to each other. Also, Steve had claimed the lighting and views of the sky was best experienced from his side. Bucky didn’t know the views he’d experience would be so great.

Most of the compound knew about him having switched rooms. Did you not? Or did you, and seeing that you and him were the only ones around you were trying to seduce him? Well, if you wanted to, you already did.

Getting excited for the night ahead, Bucky took off in the direction of your room.

~~~

You were lost in dancing and singing along the lyrics when you heard loud knocking on your door. Surprised, you quickly put on a bath robe before opening the door. The man who’d been laying on your bed in your mind was now in front you. Your heart raced with a speed more than you could handle.

Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned against your door frame, a smug smile on his face, “Hey, Y/N. Restless tonight, aren’t we?”

You desperately wished he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks in the low lighting, “Sorry, were you sleeping? I didn’t think the music was that loud. I’ll keep it down.”

You spun on your heels to lower the volume but before you could take another step Bucky grabbed your elbows and turned you back around. The momentum made you hit his chest. His other arm circled your waist and kept you firm in his hold. He bent down to your ears, “I wasn’t, baby doll. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?” You squeaked. After being naked in the cool conditioned air, the warmth oozing from his body into yours felt good. Nevermind the fact that the thin bathrobe barely did anything to prevent the softness of your breasts from being pressed into his hardness.

“Come on, Y/N, are you really gonna pretend you were not enticing me and inviting me to come here with all your sexy dancing?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear, smugness dripping off of him.

Your eyes went wide. Oh no. Oh shit. How did he know? You were trying to seduce, yes, but an imaginary Bucky. You pulled your head back as far as you could, “Not you…I wasn’t…” You looked around your rooms as if the answers were written on the walls, “How did you even see me?”

Bucky raised his eyebrows before releasing you and pointing to his room, “You kept the windows wide open? Everything was clearly visible from my place.”

“But you live just a few doors down the corridor. How is that even possible?”

“No. I moved in next to Steve’s.”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

You looked outside your windows, pointing to where he had pointed earlier, “You were there?”

“Yeah.”

“In the dark?”

“Yes.”

“Why?!”

“Because I like dark!”

“Oh my god!” Your hands shot up to your face. You thought if you could hide your face and not acknowledge the situation, you could neglect it forever. You know, like an ostrich.

You were embarrassed to the point of no return. Though you’d felt attractive, you had no doubt that to him it must have been the most silliest thing ever.

Gathering some courage you looked to him, “Bucky, I didn’t mean for you to see that. It was- It’s just that I felt like having some fun.” You shrugged sheepishly.

Bucky was no less abashed than you were. Why did he even think that you’d want to seduce him? Of course you were having fun and of course he was being stupid. He rubs the back of his neck, “Y/N, I am so sorry. It just seemed like, you know…I thought-”

“You know what? Forget everything else.” You stepped closer to him and kept your hands on his shoulder, “You liked my moves?”

Bucky grabbed your waist and and pressed your lower body against his, “Loved them, doll.” His erection was hard as it touched your abdomen. He spoke huskily, “Would you like to see mine, hmm?”

You eagerly nodded before whispering, “Show them, handsome.”

Without wasting another second Bucky clashed his lips with yours. He sucked on your lips as his tongue licked them. You opened your lips and his tongue played with yours. He pushed you to the nearest wall and groped your ass. Lifting you off the ground, he wedged you between his body and the wall. Your legs wrapped around his abdomen and interlocked them.

A sense of urgency hung in the air. To feel each other. To sate the blatant and primal need inside. There was only pure lust flowing through your veins. Your hand looped around Bucky’s neck as his pole grinded against you. His lips worked ferociously with your as lewd noises escaped you both.

Bucky carried you to your bed and dropped you atop it. Climbing your form, his lips attacked your neck as his hands came to the knot of your bathrobe, “You want this, Y/N?”

You nodded, mumbling out a “Yeah.” He unravelled the knot and opened the robe. Hands with varied temperatures touched your torso. They moved up and down your skin in a frenzy as the rock hard erection rubbed against your thigh.

Plump lips trailed harsh kisses from you neck to breasts until finally capturing your pebble like nipple. One hand slip up to cup another breast, kneading it a little more than gently. His moist tongue circled one nipple making it damp while the other was rolled and tweaked, making you let out something between a moan and a gasp.

You could feel the wetness gather between your legs with Bucky’s stimulation. Your fingers crept up his back and into his hair, gripping them tight.

His free hand travelled down between your thighs and started working their magic on your bundle of nerves. You gave out a soft moan as calloused fingers grinded the sensitive tissue. Jolts ran through your body. It felt like a fire deep within had been ignited.

Bucky’s tongue switched sides before it resumed it’s onslaught on your perky nipple. The saliva covered pebble felt much cooler than the rest of your body when left uncovered in the air, making tingles run down your spine.

You bit your lips as his fingers large fingers rolled your clit rather expertly. Your entire body was hot, inside and out. The slight weight of him over, the warmth of him covering you, his needy touch over your excited body working towards sating your desires; it all made your heart throb inside your chest.

Your thighs started to clench together, but his strong legs kept them wide apart for him. His fingers increased their speed on your nub, making you arch your back and moan out his name, “Bucky…”

“Wet, doll? Yeah?” His fingers were soaked in your slick as they worked to uncoil the tension in your lower belly. The other set of fingers circled and rolled your already rock like nipples. Another loud moan left your lips as he pinched your nipples, “Answer me, baby.”

You couldn’t form straight words with him charging your body with all his might. In trying not to stutter much, you stuttered a little, “You-ah, you make me w-wet, Bucky.”

As if energised by your praise, his fingers started massaging your clit faster than ever. Your breathing ragged with all the wiggling you did under his touch. Everything he did, from his mouth sucking and nipping your nipples alternatively and his fingers massaging your nub, overwhelmed you.

“Just there Bucky, don’t stop.” You heaved.

Bucky hadn’t intended to.You felt the strain loosen in your belly, his fingers fondling and stroking eagerly to the point of too much. Your hand tugged at his hair tighter while the other clutched your pillow for support. Letting out a series of delicious moans, you came. His fingers still rolled your nub, making you ride out your orgasm.

As the waves of pleasure passed, your body relaxed as you calmed down on your bed breathing hard. Bucky slid off of you, stripping out of his clothes, “You don’t think this was it, do you? There’s still so many of my moves left, doll.”

“I am far from done, Bucky. You got a long way to go before satisfying me.” You leaned up on your elbows, watching his mouth watering body uncover as he shed his clothes.

“It’s good we got all night then.” He dropped his boxers, leaving his impressive length bare for your eyes. You expected him to be huge, but what you saw was way more than that. You couldn’t shift your eyes from his size, “Wait until you what heights it can take you up to.”

Bucky immediately got atop you, taking your lips in his. Teeth and tongues clashed. His hand went down to his shaft, stroking his already hard length. He slid it up and down your slit, coating it in your juices, “You good?”

“Yeah.” You said, impatient to feel his length inside you. He rubbed himself against your pussy lips, teasing you slowly and patiently until whines started falling out off you, “Please,” you voice croaked, “I need you.”

Not being able to control himself any longer, Bucky placed himself at your entrance, biting his lips in anticipation as he pushed inside you slowly. You gasped at the stretch his thick cock made. You shut your eyes as your arms wound tighter around his neck. He kept entering you bit by bit until his hips were flush against yours.

“So big,” You moaned in his ears. As if the tightness of your silky walls pressing against his member wasn’t enough to make him loose his mind, you had to praise him with your lewd moans. Bucky didn’t know how long he’d last as he waited for you to adjust to his size.

You rolled your hips against his lightly. He started moving inside you with short thrusts, groaning at the snugness of your velvety walls around him, “So tight.”

Bucky gave you hot open mouthed kisses as he moved inside you. The heat of his skin against yours was growing on you. Your arms moved to his beefy biceps, your nails lightly scratching his back in the process.

Bucky started pumping deeper inside you with quickened frevor, reaching that special spot inside. His head rubbed against it every time he dove inside you, making fire course through you. You arched your back. Your moans grew louder in intensity, encouraging him to continue his onslaught.

There was a sheen of sweat forming on both your bodies as you glided over each other. Moans and grunts filled the room along with sounds of hips clapping as he fucked you hard animalisticaly. Pants slipped out of your mouth in addition to the moans. He railed into you, releasing all his pent up sexual frustration into you as you did the same.

Knowing he was close, Bucky slid his fingers back to your clit, massaging them as fast as his cock impaled you, “Gonna come, doll?”

You could only answer in high pitched moans, “I know you are there. Come for me, honey.”

The tension in your lower abdomen was building quite steadily. It neared it’s peak with Bucky’s fingers rolling your sensitive clit and his cock brushing against your that spot before finally uncoiling. White hot pleasure ran through your veins as you came. Feeling your walls clench around him, he couldn’t hold out any longer as his face contorted into pleasure. His pace decreased until he stopped and came inside you with a groan.

Panting heavily, your hands covered your eyes as you tried to even your breathing when his voice came, “Don’t relax just yet, doll. There’s still so many moves left.”

~~~

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Thank you for reading!

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willowbird · 4 years

Note

Congratulations on reaching 100 followers!!! A little WolfStar drabble about the first time they hold hands romantically would be lovely. <3

Ahh thank you so much!! And thank you for requesting some adorable WolfStar. I’ll admit I am ancient and it’s been about 15 years since I’ve actually written any WolfStar that anyone can see so I hope this still jives with the fandom and I hope you enjoy!!

---

Remus slipped as silently from his bed as possible, grimacing at the chill of the stone floor against his bare feet. James had stolen all of their rugs for some kind of scheme that Remus was sure they’d all regret later, and he wasn’t wearing any socks because he hated the feeling of them catching on the sheets as he attempted to get comfortable at night. As such, even when he did wear socks to bed, he usually ended kicking them off in the process of settling in.

This wouldn’t be an issue, but for the incredibly annoying (and annoyingly repetitive) occurrence of Sirius stealing his slippers -- a rather redundant action, considering he had been the one to purchase them for him last year for Christmas.

He thought he was so clever, the slippers being shaped like wolves and all. Then of course he decided to take himself for a thief and swiped them regularly for his own use.

As the slippers weren’t where Remus preferred to keep them in front of his nightstand, that meant that they were probably being held hostage by the nefarious dust bunnies lurking under Siruis’s bed. Unwilling to risk waking the other boy by rustling the drawn curtains of his four-poster, Remus opted to dig his socks out of the tangled blankets of the foot of his bed.

Two minutes later, Remus was sneaking quietly down the stairs. He bypassed the cozy armchairs by the dimly smoldering fireplace and held his breath as he crept past the study tables where two fourth-year girls had passed out atop a smattering of books, quills, and bits of parchment. Remus could see ink smudged on one of the girls’ cheeks from where she’d taken an essay as a pillow. If he wasn’t attempting to be stealthy, he might have slipped over to them to either nudge them awake and send them off to bed or at least snoop to see what class they were about to be behind in.

As it currently was, however, he did not want to wake them, so he curbed his curiosity and inched toward the portrait hole on sock-muffled feet. He got a whole six more steps before a quiet sound behind him had him whipping around.

“Sneaking off without me, Moony? I’m wounded.” Sirius was kneeling on the cushion of his favorite chair before the fire, arms folded over the back of it, his cheek cradled in the crook of his elbow. The tilt of his head and the position he had arranged himself in meant that only one devilish dimple teased from the corner of his mouth. Remus’s heart didn’t particularly seem to notice the lacking, considering it had instantly switched from the jolt of alarm to the familiar stutter of Merlin-be-damnd swooning the second he caught sight of him.

With all the suave and distinguished eloquence he possessed, Remus said, “Uhh...”

Sirius chuckled, a low and warm sound that reminded Remus of the crackling of the hearth and the fizz of butterbeer tickling his nose. Then the other boy stood from the chair and as he rounded it Remus’s eyes were drawn down to the happy-looking wolf faces on the slippers currently warming the other wizard’s feet.

Remus narrowed his eyes, lifted his gaze, and glared.

Sirius paused and damn him and those big brown puppy dog eyes and sheepish smile -- but Remus would not be swayed. Those were his slippers.

“Why did you even get me those slippers if you were just going to steal them all the time?” he hissed, keeping his voice low even as he cast a quick glance over at the two fourth-years. One let out a small snore; the other appeared to be drooling. Remus really hoped it wasn’t Transfiguration homework.

“No changing the subject,” Sirius chided quickly, changing the subject because apparently, he could set the rules and then also ignore them -- prat. “Where were you sneaking off to at...” he paused and looked up at the lion-faced pendulum clock on the mantel “...two o’clock in the morning?”

Remus sighed. He knew it was no use to argue with Sirius now, especially not as he could see the shadow of concern behind his mask of amused curiosity. A couple of weeks ago, he still might have tried to brush it off. He’d have fidgeted and shrugged, dodging around the subject until Sirius got the truth out of him or gave up for the moment.

Except... well, things had changed, hadn’t they? He and Sirius were... well, he wasn’t really sure what they were. No, that wasn’t true. He knew they were friends. But... they were also... more. That night in the forest had changed things between the two of them and just because they hadn’t exactly sat down and talked about it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

“Remus?” Sirius spoke his name quietly, drawing him out of his thoughts.

He offered a small smile and shrugged. “Sorry. in my head again. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“So you were going to... what, wander the castle on your own?” Sirius looked skeptical.

Heat touched Remus’s cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck. “No, I was gonna go down to the lake, just to sit for a while, get out of my head a bit.” With the exception of the first day of term when the first-years were brought across the river on the boats, the boathouse beneath the castle was all but abandoned. Remus used that exit to get out to the lake, sitting at the edge of the narrow pier or walking the strip of ground against the castle to an old stone bench dedicated to some long-gone wizard whose name was mostly eroded away.

“In your socks?”

Remus scowled at him, which only made Sirius grin.

“Sorry,” Sirius amended through a chuckle before sobering. He gestured toward the fireplace with a nod. “Come sit with me instead? It’s cold out there.”

Remus felt warmth returning to his cheeks as he looked from Sirius to the fireplace and the various chairs and couches around it, then over to where the two girls were still snoozing on their homework.

“They aren’t waking up anytime soon,” Sirius said when he followed his gaze. “And we could sit on the small couch. I mean... if you wanted to.” The small couch had its back to the study tables. If the girls did wake up and look over, they wouldn’t see anything.

NOT THAT THEY WOULD BE DOING ANYTHING.

Remus was blushing so hard he felt dizzy and was only slightly mollified to see that Sirius was also tinged pink. Except, of course, that Remus thought Sirius’s blush was really, incredibly adorable so that didn’t really help matters.

Needing to move things along so he didn’t stand there any longer making a fool of himself, Remus cleared his throat lightly. “Y-yeah,” he squeaked. Then coughed and tried again a half-octave lower and closer to a normal speaking register for a sixteen-year-old boy as opposed to a nine-year-old girl. “Yeah. Sure. Good. Let’s yes. I mean, let’s do this. That. Not that we are doing anything! I mean--”

He stopped abruptly as Sirius reached out and grabbed his hand.

All the breath froze in his lungs as the whole world narrowed down to the warm weight wrapped around his fingers. Sirius looked about as surprised as he felt, but after a moment, instead of pulling away, Sirius adjusted his grip so that their fingers interlocked. His expression smoothed and he took a small step forward.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I know. It’s... we don’t have to talk about it. But... will you sit with me?” There was a rawness in Sirius’s voice that pulled Remus out of his own head and the echo-chamber of his own pulse resounding between his ears. He really looked at Sirius -- looked at him and saw the dark eyes with the faint shadows under them, the slightly pursed lips, the traces of tension in his proud shoulders. Worry, hope, fatigue, and a tremulous vulnerability that Remus wasn’t sure he really showed anyone else.

Something inside Remus unlocked and relaxed. He squeezed Sirius’s hand and offered a small smile as he nodded. “Yeah. I... I would like that.”

Remus got to watch some of that tension fall off the other boy’s shoulders, got to watch the warmth seep into his eyes even as both dimples winked out to tease him now. Sirius tugged on his hand and Remus let him lead him over to the couch and pull him down beside him. The whole time, Remus was incredibly aware of the heat that was Sirius’s hand in his -- like it was an anchor of light tethering him to a secret universe only he and Sirius had access to. He’d known Sirius since his very first day at Hogwarts and over the years they’d probably held hands a hundred times over -- running from various bits of trouble and playing games and doing things as friends do them -- but this time... this was different.

Sirius held his hand, but it felt like he had his fingers right on the pulse of Remus’s heart.

When they were situated on the couch, side by side, Sirius still didn’t let go and Remus didn’t want him to. He squeezed lightly, and Sirius squeezed back. Then, after a moment there was a gentle weight against his arm, followed by the tickle of Sirius’s hair against his neck as his head found a pillow of his shoulder. Remus’s lungs tightened and his heart skipped. Then, making a decision, he let himself relax against the cushion. He let himself melt back and sink in. He let himself tilt his head in turn so that his cheek rested on the loveably tousled mess of Sirius’s hair.

They sat there as the fire quietly crackled and dimmed, neither speaking but neither needing to. All they needed was to be there, together -- shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

#asks #wolfywordweaver #wolfstar #hp marauders era #100 followers #my writing #omg its been 15 years since i've shown anyone anything i've written for this fandom #i really hope it doesn't suck #adorable hand holding #midnight cuddles

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earnestly-endlessly · 4 years

Note

Can i request Cherik fic rec of collage au? Pretty please? Extra cookie points if it’s long fic

Thank you for the request anon! I am so sorry how late this is, but I hope that this list will give you plenty of new fics to read and enjoy!!

College/University Cherik AU

** Where they’re both college/university students**

A Road Trip to Pennsylvania – Aainiouu

Summary: For a year Charles has nurtured the biggest and most embarrassing crush known to man towards Erik. They are friends and roommates and when Erik asks Charles to accompany him to home on Thanksgiving of course Charles goes.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Love Medley – ikeracity

Summary: Charles and Erik have been friends and roommates for two years. They've also, coincidentally, been in love with each other for two years. Neither of them has ever had the courage to admit it to the other, but Erik's new friendship with Magda and an untimely accident forces them to confront their feelings once and for all.

it was a red scarf semester – ikeracity

Summary: When Erik makes a bet that he can get into Charles Xavier's pants before the semester ends, he doesn't expect Charles to resist quite so much. And he doesn't expect Charles to change everything he thought he knew about mutants, friendship, and love.

Can You Feel My Heart – FuryRed

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier.It’s as true as the words written on the wall in the bathroom at the university that Erik attends. Erik sees them one day- accompanied by a crude drawing of Erik and Charles glaring at each other- and recognises the truth of the sentence, and smiles.

He hates Charles. Probably…

Enemies With Benefits – bettysofia

Summary: Casual sex with your sworn enemy gets tricky once feelings get involved.

CMUniverse - Pookaseraph

Summary: A series of fics that star Tony, Charles, and Erik (and probably some others as the idea expands) at Carnegie Mellon University. Some are AU of each other, don't use logic.

Math Reasons - pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Still Life with Cookies – stlkrchck

Summary: It wasn't fair that he only wanted Erik to draw him when Erik wanted to listen to him talk about how unfair the lack of emphasis that tenure committees placed on teaching ability was and tuck him into the hat and scarf and mittens that he wore even though it wasn’t properly cold yet and kiss his gorgeous, ridiculously red mouth and make out with Charles on the bed that he'd apparently wedged between the window and "pipes of some sort, don't ask me why there are pipes in my room, Erik," in his tiny dorm room.

Or: Charles is a nude model, and Erik is an art student.

The Pretender – Clocks

Summary: Charles is sick of having his best friend Erik drop to one knee and fake-propose to him in restaurants, just to score a free dessert. He doesn’t know which is worse: the complete embarrassment, or the likelihood that Erik doesn’t mean a word of it.

That time the System didn’t work – bluexlily

Summary: "pick each other up from bad dates" au

They had stablished The System a long, long time ago.

Since they became each other’s roommate, actually, and realized that they had more in common than their home state and decided they should be friends.

Whenever he or Charles is on a date, they send a first message after meeting the prospected boyfriend.

Accidentally Welcome to the Rest of Your Lives - Kianspo

Summary: Non-powered college AU. Erik and Charles have nothing in common until they end up having sex at someone's party. They don't have much in common after that, either, but find each other a hard habit to quit.

A Study in Advanced Lecherism - orphan_account

Summary: Charles has this thing he does when he's drunk. He gets completely lecherous. For some reason, that really pisses Erik off. Who knew?

Learning Curve – pocky_slash

Summary: (Non-powered college AU) Erik takes a trip back to campus to visit a despondent Charles and does his best to offer comfort.

Charles Does Not Buy a Shamwow - Madneto

Summary: Charles and Erik are spending the first few days of their university's winter break alone at Erik's mother's house. Then, Erik's mother decides to come home early unannounced... while Erik and Charles are naked on the living room couch.

5 Times Charles Had Nothing to Say and 1 Time He Did – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Charles Xavier usually has a lot to say. But sometimes he doesn't and that's nice too. (Written for the prompt: Erik befriending and falling in love with mute!Charles)

Five Useful Signs When Dating Charles Xavier (a down under remix) – letosatie

Summary: Erik meets a fascinating mute boy and rapidly discovers sign language is useful.

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

The Wall (a.k.a. Erik Lensherr) – fkbunnyclub

Summary: Charles doesn't really want to have a crush on the cute stoic senior who keeps dropping by the library where he works who also has a pregnant girlfriend. Or so he thinks.

Building a fire – dedkake

Summary: Erik wishes he were in law school instead of med school, because then he would be researching the legal remedies for the doubtless thousands of violations his apartment building's slumlord owner, Sebastian Shaw, has perpetrated on his tenants.

On the bright side, maybe he can finally coax his bizarrely oblivious roommate, Charles into sharing his bed, or curling up together on the couch under many blankets. Purely for surviving the night, of course.

April Showers – ikeracity

Summary: Walking home in the dark in a rainstorm is not Charles' idea of a pleasant night. Of course, the stranger with the umbrella who offers to walk him home makes the experience infinitely more agreeable.

Alles hat ein Ende, nur die Wurst hat zwei – Darksknight

Summary: “My mother has expressed that if I come dateless, I will be assigned one, to put it lightly. So, you see... well, I have a favor to ask. Erik, darling. Will you be my pretend boyfriend?"

Erik thinks it over for a second. "... No."

Mutant House at Dead Kings College – mabyn

Summary: When it comes to romance, Charles has terrible timing.

Best of Enemies – Black_Betty

Summary: Student and mutant rights activist Erik Lehnsherr is furious when the college newspaper chooses to interview his opponent Charles Xavier instead of him.

He's mad because of the politics of the thing. It nothing to do with how hot Charles looks in the picture accompanying the article.

Seriously.

The Luck You’re Born With – Lynds

Summary: College AU. Erik thinks Charles Xavier is an arrogant, rich brat, whose only redeeming quality is his intellect. Charles never disputes this image. Then through an accident Erik finds out that Charles has been long cut off from his family and is essentially a single parent to a ten-year-old Raven.

Like Roses and Wine – Schwoozie

Summary: Charles is not what you would call a “sports person” - but the promise of free kisses after the game, especially with one Erik Lensherr playing midfield, is a temptation Charles can't resist.

Every Song I Know – Fengirl88

Summary: “Erik,” Janos says wearily, “you had amazing sex with this guy. He obviously really likes you. You have, what, a month, six weeks left? You can spend it moping and hiding and worrying you're going to run into him. Or you can call him, have a good time, and figure out where you go from there.”

Erik groans. It's what he wants to do, so much it scares him.

[or, the one where Erik and Charles meet and fall in love as exchange students, break up, and meet again by chance seven years later]

Argue me tender, argue me true – Wild_Imagination

Summary: “You’re having your bad-boy crisis with seven years of delay, Charles.”

“Why must he spit out those hateful, misanthropic, science-free, separatist ideas of his with a face like that!”

Charles and Erik attend the same college, and they never, ever agree on anything. But that's fine, because Charles can't stand him. No, really.

Simultaneity – TurtleTotem

Summary: Trying to deliver roses to his girlfriend, Erik knocks on the wrong door -- but Charles is so happy to get them, how can Erik possibly tell him the truth? Love, lies and exhaustion follow as Erik tries to keep boyfriend and girlfriend happy and, most importantly, unaware of each other!

**Where one of them is a college/university student**

in the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

Mutually Beneficial Transaction – Pookaseraph

Summary: In his sophomore year at Columbia University, Erik, feeling slowly strangled by his mounting college debt, places an add on a sugar daddies website. He doesn't know exactly what to expect from it, but when he's contacted by a man named Charles who seems less creepy than the other people who have responded to his profile, he decides to give it a shot. Charles is nothing like what he expected, and Erik finds himself slowly falling in love with his sugar daddy while trying to find out exactly what caused this amazing guy to buy his emotional and sexual intimacy when he clearly deserves so much more than that.

Authority kink – aesc, Subtilior

Summary: “You’re going to be in your room, on Skype with full video, when I call you tonight, at … nine o’clock sharp, your time.”

Tonight.

Erik, a proud and surly graduate student, keeps his deepest, darkest desires under tight control. Charles, his genetics professor, keeps handcuffs on his copy of the university handbook. You can see where this is going.

An Ideal Grace – afrocurl, nekosmuse

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It's really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It's also too bad Erik doesn't seem to know how to use Google.

Note: This is not technically a university/college AU, but I’ll let it slide because it’s one of the best cherik fics out there and for the majority of the fic Charles is in Erik’s class (even though, unbeknownst to Erik, he’s a professor as well).

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #asks #earnestly answers

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

Text

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: “Romantic Rail Getaway” Zuo Ran Route, Day 4

Translation Masterlist | Themis Event Masterlist

Zuo Ran Route: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

Videos, where applicable, are hyperlinked on the headings in the post.

See under cut!

Part 1 – Waterbus Scenic Location – “Visiting James River”

After deciding we would report the random fee collection cases in Rumbaliya…

Zuo Ran and my itinerary had an additional sense of mission tacked on.

We recorded every cost during our trip and diligently inspected the amount indicated on each electronic receipt.

MC: Sure enough, there’s an issue! Lawyer Zuo, look…

MC: On the bill for the waterbus we were just on, there’s an additional 30% service fee.

MC: There are also additional costs of unknown sources on the speedboat receipt.

Zuo Ran: And there are additional costs on the waterside restaurant receipt.

MC: If we didn’t check, we wouldn’t have known…

In fact, not only the receipts we received today had issues. Last night, Zuo Ran and I carefully checked the bills from the past few days…

On the first day of our trip, we had been charged with additional service fees. We simply had not noticed back then.

MC: I feel like these are sufficient to indicate problems.

Zuo Ran: Mhmm, I’ll look up the route to the police station…

We hadn’t finished talking when a furious voice cut Zuo Ran’s voice short.

???: You’re bullying others too much – I’m going to sue you!

A man whose hand was wrapped in bandages furiously walked out of the water bus station.

From time to time, he would point into the air and swear, seeming to be severely resentful of some people in the bus station.

However, no one came out of the bus station to respond to him…

Injured Visitor: Don’t hide in there without making a peep. I know you’re there!

Injured Visitor: I don’t care, you better give me an explanation!

Seeing him like this, I couldn’t help walking up and asking him.

INTERROGATION START

Issue Reason

MC: Hello, may I ask… what happened?

Injured Visitor: Hmph, I wanted to board the waterbus, but they wanted me to pay for tickets for two!

Injured Visitor: Don’t you think that group is just ridiculous?

MC: Eh? Yeah… that’s so weird, why did they want you to pay double the cost?

Injured Visitor: Because my left hand’s bone is fractured and I’m afraid of accidentally getting my arm bumped into, so I requested the staff to leave a seat empty on my right side.

Injured Visitor: I didn’t force them to give me an empty spot, I was just saying that it would be great if there was a bit more space…

Injured Visitor: But the staff told me that they could give me a single seat, but I had to make up for the cost!

Injured Visitor: They even said that this was their rule, and unless I bought an empty spot, they wouldn’t let me get on the bus!

Injury Situation

MC: Is your injury… alright?

Injured Visitor: Oh, it’s fine. I accidentally fell and injured myself a few days before travelling. It’s already been several days, and it no longer really hurts.

Injured Visitor: The doctor says that it’s regrowing the bone right now, and I can’t jostle it that much.

Bus Rules

Zuo Ran: I remember that… there aren’t rules of this sort when riding waterbuses.

Injured Visitor: Right? I also said, how could there be this sort of rule!

Injured Visitor: After, I told the staff that “I don’t need to pick a seat, I’ll just sit with the other riders.”

Injured Visitor: Who would’ve thought that the staff member would actually say “No can do, this will affect the other riders”!!

MC: (That being so, aren’t they deliberately forcing this visitor to buy another bus ticket?!)

Issue Aftermath

MC: Then… what happened after?

Injured Visitor: What sort of “after” could it be? I straight-up stormed off the waterbus and ran to their office area, demanding they refund the ticket…

Injured Visitor: Hmph, their manager ended up telling me that tickets could not be refunded after sale!

Injured Visitor: Reason this out for me – I didn’t ride the bus… so why shouldn’t they refund me?!

MC: (Looks like, aside from random fee collection cases, Rumbaliya’s attractions have a lot of heartache-inducing problems.)

INTERROGATION END

MC: To be honest, we’ve also encountered some bad situations…

I gave a simple explanation of what we’d encountered for this injured visitor.

Injured Visitor: Ugh, so you two have also encountered these things.

Injured Visitor: Actually, same here. When I dined at Kelosi City a few days ago, the restaurant also charged me a lot in service fees.

Injured Visitor: That day I was in a decent mood, so I didn’t make a big deal out of it…

Injured Visitor: Who would’ve thought that they wanted to defraud me today over here! Hmph, I don’t want to endure it anymore!

Zuo Ran: Are you willing to come with us to the police station to account for your situation?

Injured Visitor: Sure, I’ve got to give them a few words and have them give me an explanation!

Part 2 – James Bridge

[Gameplay]

Part 3 – James Commerce District

[Gameplay]

Part 4 – James Plaza – “Governance Program”

James Police Station

MC: The course of events is basically like so.

I gave a systematic, detailed account of the problems we’d encountered for these few days and handed the related evidence to the police officer.

After the police officer who received us finished listening, his brow wrinkled tightly.

Police Officer: I’m very sorry that you had to encounter these things. In the past, though we have received a few visitors’ complaints on the attractions’ price issues…

Police Officer: But as there were few of them, after we finished mediating on scene, we didn’t intervene too much.

Police Officer: Please don’t worry. We will definitely clear this up under pertinent regulations.

Police Officer: For the excess fees at restaurants and scenic locations, we will also supervise the return of those to you all from related persons.

MC: Thank you. It’s just that we hope that there will be a more thorough resolution for this…

I hadn’t finished speaking when that injured visitor started shouting angrily.

Injured Visitor: Hey, so it ends like this?

Injured Visitor: Can’t you properly think up of a way to make sure those people will never defraud visitors again?!

Police Officer: Please don’t worry, please don’t worry, we will definitely bring out a governance program as soon as possible. It’s just…

Zuo Ran: If I may be so presumptuous, is it that you’ve encountered a difficult issue?

Police Officer: Oh, that’s not it. It’s just that a definite implementation plan might require a stretch of time.

Police Officer: Although, please believe us – within the upcoming few months… we definitely will have the ability to completely eliminate the random fee collection cases in the scenic areas.

INTERROGATION START

Governance Plan

MC: May I ask… is it alright if you tell us about your governance plan?

Police Officer: Unfortunately, I cannot reveal too much, but I can guarantee…

Police Officer: After we will work with the police stations in all of Rumbaliya to spread rectification work and strictly handle the fee collection cases that already exist.

MC: (It sounds like they’ll probably draw up a very detailed governance plan…)

Visitor Compensation

Zuo Ran: Then, how will the losses that have already been dealt to visitors before be dealt with?

Police Officer: Oh, please don’t worry.

Police Officer: With regards to this, we’ve already prepared a related reimbursement plan.

Police Officer: We will do all we can to guarantee the benefit of each visitor. After verification, we will have related scenic areas carry out compensation according to rules.

Afterwards Handling

MC: I’m sorry, there’s something else I want to ask…

MC: After centralized regulation, do you have other plans to prevent cases of this sort from happening again?

Police Officer: Of course, we will partition out a group of colleagues to manage these affairs.

Police Officer: Also, we will have periodic checkups, as well as irregular spot checks to ensure that staff at scenic locations are cooperating with our work.

INTERROGATION END

MC: I hope it’s as you have said… that the fee collection cases can be held back in time.

Police Officer: It definitely will. Please believe in us.

Police Officer: When all of you visit again, you will definitely feel an obvious change.

Part 5 – Romantic Greenhouse Park

[Gameplay]

Part 6 – Tenderness in the Greenhouse

James Greenhouse Park

Following James River to the end of a little lane, Zuo Ran and I entered a greenhouse park filled with blooming flowers and wandered in it.

Diverse and splendid flowers, green plants that were full of vitality – everything was filled with life… just like my mood now.

MC: Awesome! Good thing Lawyer Zuo was there for the scenic spot fee collection issue to finally be resolved.

The evidence that Zuo Ran and I collected finally made the relevant people pay attention to the fee collection issue.

The staff repeatedly promised that they would definitely rectify this issue and work on reimbursements for visitors who had blindly suffered losses.

So far, the effort we had expended finally received its harvest in stages.

Zuo Ran: In fact, most of the credit goes to you for how smoothly this issue was resolved. I did not help much.

MC: You clearly helped a lot!

MC: Lawyer Zuo, you helped me organize the information, collect the visitors’ feedback, and helped me obstruct that unreasonable restaurant boss…

MC: If not for you, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to deal with this so well on my own.

Zuo Ran: You’ve already done very well, and good work deserves to be praised. Unless you want me to tell you…

Zuo Ran: Do not be arrogant, and continue doing your best?

MC: They’re all fine. Either way, it’s all praise, and I can accept it all.

Zuo Ran: Ah… I just can’t beat you.

Zuo Ran made a helpless expression, but his eyes revealed a deeper smile.

Zuo Ran: Seeing your mood improve, I can be at ease. For the past few days, you…

MC: Hm? Lawyer Zuo, my mood wasn’t as bad as you imagined.

I sat on a chair in the garden, enjoying the gentle sunlight that shone through the glass of the greenhouse.

MC: We did encounter some troublesome things these past few days and I was indeed annoyed…

MC: But these things won’t affect my mood! I’m even full of confidence that these sorts of things aren’t problems at all.

Zuo Ran sat beside me, his shining eyes fixed on me, seeming to decipher the deep meaning in my words.

MC: Because we’re the best partners. I know that if we’re together, any difficult issues we encounter will be resolved smoothly.

Zuo Ran: You’re right, we are the best partners.

MC: I feel a lot more relaxed! We can finally continue our trip!

MC: In a moment, how about we go see a performance again? Hm… or we could stroll down the riverside?

MC: I saw on the guides that the sunset view at the side of James River is very beautiful. Let’s go take…

The two words “take photos” hadn’t left my mouth when I suddenly froze, and with a “buzz”, it seemed like something was resounding in my head…

MC: Ah! I’m so screwed! I-I completely forgot about taking photos for Yao Yu!

For these few days, I kept feeling like I’d forgotten something, but I didn’t pay it much mind.

I’d completely forgotten about Yao Yu having me take photos!!

MC: I’m done for. Now I won’t be able to finish the task… in the next few days back, I’ll just cling onto Yao Yu’s legs and cry.

Zuo Ran: …

MC: Lawyer Zuo… you’re even laughing at me!

Zuo Ran: I’m not laughing.

Zuo Ran said he wasn’t laughing, but a smile still sprung up in his eyes.

Zuo Ran: Don’t rush, we’ll go now to take a picture of the James River sunset.

Zuo Ran: Also… the train will arrive at Forenlo Palace tomorrow and there are lots of building landscapes there. You’ll definitely be able to take beautiful pictures.

MC: Starting from now, I’m going to take pictures seriously! Lawyer Zuo, you’ve got to supervise me!

Zuo Ran: Okay, I’ll supervise you.

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #artem wing #zuo ran #mihoyo #未定事件簿 #weiding shijian bu #tot translation

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