#(didn’t think you’d ever see my art tag again‚ huh

[haet-sal]

Hug in A Letter // juhaknyeon x reader

Told in a series of letters. Haknyeon never thought he’d find the person that’s the sole reason he’s alive again, or that his life would continue… and yet, now he’s in university doing both those things.

Tags: ANGST, haknyeon x reader, FLUFF, lover from the past/meant to be type of romance, cold!reader, shy!hak

Warnings: scars on wrists and arms (cause unexplained), bullying, Y/n is a rigid bitch, miscommunication, love triangle but not really

W.c.:8.8k💗💞💗💗💞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Y/n,

You probably don’t remember me, huh?

That’s a weird way to start a letter.

Why am I weird about this? It’s not like you’d ever read it…

Sorry, I’m not a letter guy. But I just had to talk to you and if it is in the form of unread ink then let it be. I just…

I never thought I’d see you again.

Really. You were an angel that appeared to me that winter day, purer than the snow around me, even when that dirty maroon blood was tainting it: you wiped the blood off my lips with the back of your hand, and when it stained your skin, I pulled away you said:

It’ll be okay.

That’s what you said.

Today you were with your friends when I saw you. We’re in the same year. Of course we’re in the same year. It’s not news to me. It’s just…

You joined the photography club. I realized it when you were behind me, signing up for the same thing. You wrote your name under mine, and for a minute I just gawked, before I told myself to keep walking. I don’t want you to hate me.

My father’s been telling me I need to socialize like a real college student, that if I keep acting like a loser that’s all I’ll ever be. He says I should stop acting so haunted by the past, because nothing can hurt me now, but I always feel like I’m still in that snow. Not that I’m doing this for him. I’m not even doing it to see you—I know you would never like me, of course I do. I’m just… Photography sounds fun. It’s something I used to enjoy, before I became The Monster That Fails to Enjoy Anything.

Legitimate title. My sister made it up on our family vacation.

I’m still recoiling from the whiplash of having you stand there, right in front of me, or well, behind me once I turned around, anyway.

I must have turned around with my head down for a long time, because when I looked up you were walking with your friend, ahead of me.

Already people were whispering things about you, things I knew and didn’t know, like: you’ve spent a good chunk of your life overseas (knew that), your brother Younghoon is a model (knew that), your family’s famous (which I knew, more or less).

The Photography club wanted to initiate us this very night, and just before I got into the hall they rented for this, I kind of wanted to back out. Just walk backwards, say sorry, no one would miss me anyway. I wanted to see you, y/n, but also… I didn’t…

I was just scared. You’d think I’d get over all these fears after everything that happened, but really I just became more and more of a clockwork robot broken by anxiety.

One of the initial seniors from the photography club convinced me to go.

“N-no,” I said, “I’m okay.” These days my voice doesn’t reach as loud, but I hoped it was loud enough to hear—only, of course, he doesn’t care what I want.

“Come on!” His name was Jaehyun. “It’s more fun the more people we have, you’ll have fun.” I guess I got the better end of it, because the female members he recruited and persuaded into attending the club night by several winks and… this weird flirty thing he does with his eyes that makes them fall all over him.

But he knew I was nervous, so he walked me into the club, and was also the one to offer me a seat next to him, in the front row in front of the stage.

I didn’t get to look back into the crowd to see if you were there, so I tried to concentrate on the group activities, which is something I should do if I’m trying to be normal, and there was:

President Choi Chanhee, who was actually a photography major already signed to some art gallery that wants to show his photos

Ahn Sohyun, the vice-president of the club, an impressive feat since she was only a year above us.

And the new freshmen introduced themselves one by one: me, Donghyuck, Kevin Moon, a girl named Rachel, Changmin… you.

You mumbled your name like you were embarrassed to be here but I heard it nonetheless, and when you were speaking I finally got a chance to look at you—not to be creepy, but… to make sure it was you.

I mean, of course it is. You look like you, and your name… I guess I was just never sure if you existed for real, like you’re someone I only see on TV, so whenever you’re in the same room with me, it’s just…

The freshmen started to dance and have snacks after that, classic initiation night, I guess. It’s the end of summer but still feels like the middle of it, and the night was hot and everyone’s already discarded their jackets in a pile.

I’m the only one still standing with my hoodie zipped all the way up.

At first I tried to look for you, but I quickly gave up. I don’t even know what I’d say to you. It would be weird if I just kept sitting when everyone was either drinking or eating or dancing, so I tried to walk around, keeping my eyes on the ground—it’s a habit I learned a long time ago, a habit I can’t unlearn because eye contact scares me—and then I spot you, you’re talking to Choi Chanhee, about his photos and his major. I don’t even know what your major is.

The party transformed completely into a dance thing, and everyone was now crowding around the stage, where they encouraged freshmen to get up and dance, one by one. You were spared the treatment, because everyone was rather afraid of you, or were in awe—either way, you didn’t need to subject yourself to embarrassment like that.

Someone pushed me into the stage lights, I guess it was my turn–and I just froze there, on stage, and everyone’s looking. I search for you but I can’t see through the blinding lights.

“Haknyeon’s cute,” someone says.

“Haknyeon-ah! Do you have abs?”

“Show us!”

I tried to get off the stage, but just like 5 years ago I’m pushed back, there’s no way to escape, and I’m back under the lights again, and everyone’s laughing—not at me, I know that, but there’s no way to control the rapid beating of my heart.

“You’re sweating.” Rachel reached over and pulled the zipper of my hoodie down, and then quickly, with action that shows she works the coat room at restaurants, slid the hoodie off my sleeves.

I should have worn a long sleeved shirt. But I like the one I had on then, you know? I like the color of it…

At home I just walk around with short sleeves, sometimes less—my scars don’t scare me, and I’ve been living with them for, like, 4 years? 5? It’s just a part of me now. All the itching and extra skin and discoloration, it’s a part of me now.

I guess when people see it it makes them want to touch and observe me like a lab rat.

But everybody in the room did that side-eyed glance at my scars, the kind where they’re apologetic about the curiosity, but they still stare—

And that’s when I realized all the attention was on me. Even you—you were watching me, too, except you didn’t have that friendly, initiation-night smile like everybody. You had a blank stare, dark eyes like doll’s eyes, so tough but stunning. And you looked like you were bored of me, which, I have to admit, I’m bored of myself too.

But everybody else certainly wasn’t bored. They were intrigued, disgusted, whatever else—by the scars on my arms. I gingerly put my hoodie back on, while you just looked away.

So you don’t remember me?

Rachel was the one that handed me the hoodie back—it wouldn’t help me now, but it would palliate the staring—and when I looked back at you, you’re talking to Chanhee again, although he looked distracted.

The party went on all night, and I had half a mind to just stay for half of it, and after the scar thing no one talked to me, anyway. There was free beer, though, so I drank a little. It would be weird if I walked out after that scene—but also no one was talking to me.

I lounged around for a bit in the room, but suddenly someone takes me by the arm, and I’m walking unwillingly out the hall.

It’s Ji Changmin, who is nice enough. He grins at me. “We needed some fresh air,” he says, “here, I bought you your own cold one.” It was a beer.

It was club night all over campus, so there were people from every club walking around us, as we sat on a bench behind the garden statue, shrouded in the dark.

“It’s alright,” Changmin told me. “It’s not on you that everyone is a freak.”

I don’t like that word, as much as I use it on me. Plus, the fact that they stare makes me the freak, not them.

“If they stare, it’s because they’re mannerless bastards. Not because of anything you did.”

We just sipped from our cans in turn, sometimes talking about our lives, as we introduced ourselves to the other. Changmin initially wanted to join the dance club, but apparently he was ‘overqualified’ and Chanhee, the president, asked him to join his club, ‘on knifepoint’, he says, “he was literally pointing a pair of scissors at me when he asked me to join.”

As we sat in the dark, people would pass by, sometimes talking about me.

“Did you see the scars on him?” comes a voice, and Changmin saw me cowering in my seat, although we were covered by the statue and they couldn’t see that I was sitting right there. He nodded at me to be quiet, it would be over, anyway. “He must be sick—do you think someone did it to him?”

“Maybe he did it himself. Look at the look in his eyes—crazy son of a bitch.” I held my breath until those people had passed by.

Changmin sighed at me. Clinked our beer cans together. “Here’s to this semester—at least you’re being talked about.”

We both walked back to our dorms later that night, but with a group from the club. I’m finally included in a group, again… it feels good. But I know you went back in that blue racecar-looking… thing… that’s way too cool to be called a car, and I know you have an apartment somewhere close but also expensive. Tonight, like always, that day flashes by in my eyes, and like always, I wonder, why me? Why did you save me? Were you just bored? Righteous? I can’t think of more reasons.

I don’t know how to sign this letter so I’ll just write:

From,

Haknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

I guess you’re looking out for me, even till now. You’re really a nice person. I can’t even stop telling you how nice of a person you are, if only I could get the words out… if only we could talk.

Changmin is still the only person that talks to me. It’s great that we’re in the same major together, and although you’re not, your name is the only thing on everybody’s lips. It’s quite a major feat.

“Y/N spent half her life in America.”

“Y/N’s brother, Younghoon, is an international model.”

“Y/n’s a bitch.”

This statement broke through the gossip that started before the lecture, and I almost turned around to see the source of it, because who’s saying that—but I fought the urge, I was going to lay low, anyway, plus I can’t act like I know you, because I don’t.

“What do you mean, she’s a bitch?” someone asks. Thank God, I’m not the only one with questions.

“Did you see the way she didn’t talk to anybody except for the club president, Chanhee? She’s only interested in connections.”

“Of course, she’s raised like that… rich people have no manners.”

“She told me to shut up this morning—like, real mean, glaring, ‘shut the fuck up’. And she stared down everybody at my table—that qualifies as bitchy, doesn’t it?”

“Jeez, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying—” the guy’s voice drops to a lower octave, but the lecture hall was dead silent that I could hear: “—was just saying Juhaknyeon’s weird, that everyone saw his arms last night, and it’s covered in scars, just discussing it, civilly.”

“And she told you to shut up?!” someone asks in shock.

“She threw a coke can at me. ‘Shut the fuck up’ real messed up, angry voice.”

Someone laughs. “Does Y/N L/N like that guy? Like, for real? Because why else would she—”

“Who knows? But they filmed him taking his jacket off, didn’t you know?” someone says. “Everyone in the uni knows he’s a freak—no matter what Y/N has to say about it.”

I guess I’m screwed. I guess we’re both screwed. But… is it okay that I feel a little happy about this? I always knew I would have a hard time fitting in, but the fact that you’re trying to defend me makes me happy. That I’m kind of in this with you—you, and Changmin.

I guess it kind of makes me a loser if I keep thinking of you as a friend. We haven’t even talked.

Anyway, thank you.

From,

Haknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

I don’t get it. Why are you doing this to me?

The more I think about it, the more it looks like it’s just a long-winded joke. Your brother or someone set you up to this. It’s surprising that you’re here, but more surprising that you act like you know me.

We don’t know each other. I keep telling myself that.

Today is club day, and they’re going to a village somewhere in the rural parts, apparently there’s a waterfall there. Chanhee funded the trip, but needs more people to sign up. I almost didn't go, no one asked me specifically, and Changmin’s not going, either. I wanted to lay low.

I thought you were going, but soon Sohyun and Rachel cornered you and asked if you would. You looked annoyed. You always do, but…

“Ask Haknyeon,” you told Rachel. “If he goes I’ll go too.” And then you slammed your locker shut.

Of course that day only ended with Rachel, Yunjin, Sakura, all the other boys and girls with a crush on you, cornering me and asking me to go on the trip.

It’s funny, because they never even considered me as part of the club, and now they’re begging me, “Haknyeon it’ll be so fun. You’re one of us!” It’s… hilarious. If only I still had a heart to laugh…

But all this socialization in my life trained me into being unable to say no as an answer… so of course I’m going, and I told them that. Rachel excitedly walked off to tell you—I don’t know what your face looked like when she told you.

Why would you do this to me? Why would you mention me by name and force me into that? It’s strange, Y/N, do you still see me as that boy in the snow? That I’m weak, that you could destroy me?

You could destroy me, I know that. But why would you want to? I thought you were nice to me.

I guess I’m going… on that bus with the rest of the club on that long winded road. To a motel surrounded by farms. I still don’t understand why you mentioned me, except if it were some sick joke.

I guess I’ll see you on the bus.

From,

Juhaknyeon

.

Dear Y/n,

Fuck. Did we just fight? What is this?

I’m writing this on my notes app in the back of the bus while that guy Donghyuck’s beside me, eyes closed, trying to sleep. I don’t even feel like this is secure enough of a position to write to you, because what if the words mirror off the window and everyone can see?

But I’m hiding and writing.

Why am I such an idiot? There’s no one I want to meet more than myself, so I could beat him up. I’d skin him from the inside out if I could, that bastard.

So today started with the bus ride—I mean, literally started, I wasn’t even awake until the bus started moving—and I was completely resigned to my fate, this would be three whole days of torture, living with people, riding a bus through roads that could make the strongest stomachs carsick… hotel food… the list goes on.

You enter the bus with a frown and your bag, and sit in a single seat at the front. I gawked at you for a second, before I realized that other people could see me looking and draw conclusions.

So I sat in a four-seater, don’t know how I ended up there—with Donghyuck and Rachel and Sakura.

“Does y/n like you?” Donghyuck asked somewhere along the ride, just when we were starting to doze off.

I just shifted in my seat, not making eye contact. I think someone needs to teach me the art of eye contact again, because now people’s gazes scare me, especially kids my age. It’s like they’re searching for a way to bring me down, they could get up at the next move and just—I feel safer with my eyes closed or on the ground. “No,” I answered. Well, it had been more like, n-n-n-no.

“I mean it just doesn’t make sense. She doesn’t even smile to anyone, but with you—” Donghyuck sucked in a breath. The others with him just nodded along. “She even told Sohyun she’s not going on this trip if you don’t come, isn’t that weird?”

“Maybe she didn’t want Hak to be left out?” suggests Rachel. “Because of freak-rumors and such?”

“You must think she’s an angel or something,” says Sakura. “Y/N’s so nice to you, isn’t she? She made sure you got on this trip.”

Just as I feared: food from unrated restaurants in the middle of nowhere. The bus stops for relief, and we eat, if Changmin were here maybe I would be more comfortable but I’m just sitting with Donghyuck and the girls, we ordered bibimbap, which even the four of us couldn’t finish.

You sat away from everybody, in a solitary table eating nothing. You bought a coke bottle, though, and kept drinking. I stared at you for a bit, which made Donghyuck nudge Sakura. “They’re in love,” he told her. “It’s some secret relationship.”

Our secret relationship came to this.

I cornered you beside the bus stop where you were washing your hands; everybody was still eating. You glared at me when I came near, so I knew I wasn’t welcome, but I was kind of mad at you, too, so:

“Why are you doing this to me?” was my first question. I didn’t mean for it to come out like a demanding challenge.

“Doing ‘this’ to ‘you’?”

“Why did you tell them you’d only go if I came?” You looked even more annoyed than before, so I go on: “is this… a joke? Did someone put you up to this? Are you trying to hurt—”

“Idiot,” you sneered under your breath. “Fucking idi—I didn’t want to come, as you can see, I didn’t think you would! I just said that so we could both stay home, but who fucked it up, Haknyeon, who?” You kicked at the wall in front of you angrily, and I stepped back a little, trying to give an angry person space. You just rolled your eyes, and then walked past me, colliding first into my shoulder deliberately.

When we all get back on the bus, you’re in your single-seat, sunglasses on, with a frown on your face. Someone asked you “who shit in your coffee?” and you snarled through gritted teeth, “shut the fuck up.”

Now I’m here sitting beside Donghyuck. Did we fight? Do we even know each other well enough to fight?

I just don’t get it. I hate myself for fighting with you, I should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t know why I started it in the first place—it’s not like I’ll ever get real answers, anyway. I should have shut up, now I feel like I’ve lost your trust, and whatever you felt when you were protecting me, you wouldn’t do it again.

I really hate myself right now.

From,

Juhaknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

You’re sleeping 4 feet away from me right now, which is, well, cool, but I’m gonna stay awake all night to make sure you’re safe. The latch to the door is broken for some reason, adding to my vigilance. Plus everyone in the club is horribly drunk, so I…

I’m gonna stay awake. Gives me more time to write this letter, anyway.

Just to recap because I feel like we might forget how we ended up here:

The bus ride was horrible. It’s more horrible that we’re gonna have to ride it all over again when we get back to the city later, it gave everyone motion sickness. No one’s prepared for the ride home.

But we saw the waterfalls! Well, the rest of us did, anyway. You stayed on the bus playing games on your phone. I snooped around and gawked a little–it’s one of those dashing games. I guess even that monotony is better than hanging out with the rest of us, huh.

Chanhee loves the waterfalls (read: took 19,686 pictures). Everyone did, actually. You can’t see anything from the bus, but inside there’s a stream and it’s really pretty. Everyone swam. Except me, I guess, you can probably guess why I didn’t.

And then we drove to the motel, where we were planning to get drunk for the whole night. I thought it’d make everything weird if I went, so I didn’t go. I just sat in the motel room, charging my phone. Thinking of writing you another letter, but I don’t even know what I’d say.

The guys went out to drink around 9. At 10, there’s a knock on the door—the latch is broken, so it just slides to the side.

Your head poked in. “Oh, you.”

I gawked at you wordlessly, pathetically actually. But you didn’t hate me so much. “Can I stay here for a bit? It’s scary in my room.”

I nodded, and you came in, immediately lying down on the mattress they laid down for us. “Aren’t you gonna get some shut-eye, too?” you asked me.

I just shook my head. We stayed there in silence for so long. I wanted to ask why you didn’t go to drink, but I couldn’t get it out, couldn’t get myself to speak to you. You let me do my thing, which was staring at my phone like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, when really all I wanted to do was stare at your face. Ask you questions. All about you, all about that day in the snow.

You spoke first, though. I never speak. “I’m sorry about earlier today.”

I wasn’t expecting an apology at all, so I’m surprised. “Huh?” finally, some sound from me.

“I was just… I didn’t eat anything, so I guess I was hangry. It’s fucked up. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I shrugged. “Used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to people treating you like that.”

You looked at me in a special, peculiar way. Not hating but also not enjoying my company. You saw me scratching the tag on my back, it’s hot and I’m covered in sweat. And I’m still wearing a jacket over my shirt. “Take it off,” you say, “the motel heating is fucking off its rocks, it’s like 30 degrees in here.”

I just shook my head and mumbled it’s not hot at all, but…

You crawled over to me and swiped the sweat off my forehead. “It’s just the two of us here, Haknyeon.”

I gripped at my sleeves. “No…”

You gave up easily, thank God. You sat back on the mattress. “Fine, I guess. I’m sleepy.”

“Do you remember me?” I ask out of the blue, and it should have been quiet, I didn’t even mean it for you to hear, I was just wondering it to myself, it’s become a habit of speaking my thoughts out loud because usually no one’s around to hear…

“Do you know me?” you asked in return, louder than me this time.

I looked away. “No.” Which was true, I didn’t know you other than that day and chance sightings, and I’m not delusional enough to force a connection.

“I’m sleeping,” you say. “I trust you, so I’ll just sleep here. Is that okay?”

I said yeah, and then you’re curled up with a pillow. I dug up a fan from the closet and plugged it in facing you so you’d be a little cool. I’m still keeping my jacket on, though. It just gets weird if anyone sees it, even you, who knows how I got them.

Thank you for trusting me.

From,

Haknyeon

[continued on back page]

Okay, I just… I’m having flashbacks again, as bad as it is. You’re still asleep. I’m writing this in the small flashlight, in case turning the big lights on would wake you up. There’s been a few club people coming back to sleep, but I won’t let them in my room—not unless it’s a girl that I can trust around you anyway, but neither Rachel nor Sohyun are back.

5 years ago was the worst year of my life. I guess it was always like that since I was a kid, people didn’t seem to take my side in fights, or I was always under the upperhand… but it didn’t get as bad as freshman year of high school.

On the day you talked to me, it was snowing.

Winter may be the cruelest month to do these things in. One time I stood wearing a mere short-sleeved school shirt in ankle-high snow, with the boys all standing around me—my puffer jacket was clogging the toilet in a stall on the second floor—and they were saying “it’s not that cold,” all the while wearing 4 layers, the pure irony. And the snow fell all around us.

On the day you talked to me, they weren’t around. I was bleeding from my head, I swear the blood was frozen and congealed with my eyelashes, everything was just cold and painful, and I was wearing one jacket. Hands in my pockets. They’d intimidated me into kneeling in the snow, and demanded that I kneeled there until they came back. It was almost past lunch, and they would either actually come back to torment me more or just go back to their classes, mindless of me.

I tried to report them, a few times. I tried to get my parents to help me. It was always the same thing—even the bullies themselves wouldn’t come to the office with me, it would be the students’ representative, which happened to be your brother, Younghoon–he’d apologize, and do nothing. He just kept saying “we’re all friends. We just need to respect each other.” to me, as if I was the one needing to respect people.

You walked up to me, that day in the snow. It was lunch time, and everyone was eating inside, I know students stared but they never got closer. But you did.

“Get up,” was what you said. Just like now, today, you’re impossible to read. I thought you were angry at me—I’ve seen you before, I know you’re Younghoon’s sister, I know nobody could help me, so…

“Get up, let’s go to the hospital.”

I didn’t move. If anything, I kneeled firmer than before, sinking into the snow, head facing the ground. I’m meant to be sorry, although I don’t know for what.

“Get up!” you yelled at me. “If you won’t get up, you’re gonna get sicker.”

You kneeled down with me, and I opened my mouth, I said, “don’t,” the sound got away from us with the wind and you didn't hear it.

You wiped the blood off my brows. “It’ll be okay.” It was staining your hands, and then it fell onto the snow, maroon against pure white. I was the one dirtying it.

That’s when I looked up at you, finally, although I wasn’t supposed to. “Kneel with your head bowed” had been the order. But when I looked…

You looked angry. “Get up,” you said again, this time with your arm hooking with mine to pull me up. And yet, I planted myself on the ground, afraid they would hurt us both if you got me.

“Juhaknyeon, please.” You knew my name. That was the most surprising part of it. “Get up, come on.”

Tears and blood congealed and froze around my temples, I don’t know what I’m doing. Crying icicle tears and still planting my knees on the ground. I can’t get up, I can’t.

You gave up eventually, and I didn’t watch it happen—I kept my eyes on the ground. Praying for something. But when you came all my prayers were answered, and after that… they never bothered me again.

I don’t know what you did, but I know you did something. It was you. You did more than Younghoon ever could, you saved me.

I’m always going to see you as an angel, that day in the snow. I’m sorry my blood stained you, it was dirty. I’m trying to never bleed that way again. Thank you for then. I think you might be the sole reason I’m alive. Now I have to protect you, which is why I’m here staying up. In the moonlight, the outline of your nose is really pretty.

That’s creepy to say. I just wanted to compliment you, sorry.

Note to self: just so I remember to tell you: Rachel eventually came back to the bedrooms and I let her sleep in the same room with you, warning her that the latch to the door is broken. Writing this in my own room with Kevin and Chanhee. It smells like soju here it’s unbearable. I hope you’re sleeping well, though, good night.

—Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

Are we friends now? It feels like I need a bigger audacity to assume that. An audacity I don’t have.

I guess if the things that happened to me didn’t happen, I would be a happy person. Someone who easily makes friends, someone kind… As much as I wish I were that person, I also don’t want someone else to go through what I did. I guess I just think that I can take the worst of it. Anyway, today it really feels like the worst of it is over. Changmin texted me ‘hey loser, how was the trip’ and I wrote back. I finally have a friend… or friends, since the whole club is so nice to me.

I don’t know why, but they’re a little iffy about you. I find it weird they think badly about you, but when I try to defend you it just makes things worse. I would tell people that you helped me out back in high school, but… I don’t know if you’d like to let people know we’ve known each other that long.

Man, you can sleep. You sat on the bus with your head resting on the window, and just went to sleep. It’s not even like you’re part of the hangover crowd, which everybody is, because just look at Chanhee. I’ve never seen eyes that tired.

You pulled me in to sit with you, though, and like everything you do, I don’t understand it. I just sit quietly. Writing to Changmin on the phone, which I have all sounds off and set on vibrate mode, so it doesn’t disturb you. Everyone’s quiet, and the bus curtains are drawn.

Some time along the ride, your sleeping figure started to lean on me. You were asleep, I’m sure, and that moment was when I let myself dream…

In the universe where I was never hurt, I have an audacity big enough to believe I should be the one kissing your lips. I ask you out. You fall asleep on me, just like this. You put your hand in mine. You feel my forehead by pressing yours against it when I get sick. When I lean into you, you won’t pull away—because I’m not a loser with scars. Because I’m not me. And that’s the only way you’d ever like me.

I thought no one saw us, that we were shrouded on the dark bus… but I guess everyone saw. When we’re on campus again, Donghyuck and the others teased me about it, some of them clasping my arm in a side-hug.

“Juhaknyeon, what the hell did you do that the ice princess is all over you?”

I don’t know, either. I just don’t know why you would keep helping me all this time.

From,

Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, I feel like I need to apologize for my earlier wishful behavior that you were mine, because today you came to the club meeting with your boyfriend.

Of course you have a boyfriend. I shouldn’t be surprised. I guess it’s a good pairing, too, because Youngjae is bright, happy, so funny, and his family is just as affluent as yours. I guess he’s the exact type you should ever go for.

But anyway Youngjae arrived at our club meeting today all flashy, and Chanhee was over the moon because apparently they know each other. Youngjae’s parents own a gallery and everything, and they talked for a bit. You looked so happy and bright, bragging about your boyfriend. “This is Eric! He and I got close when I was studying in L.A.”

And Eric mingled with the club, everyone likes him. Some people thought we were a budding love triangle, though, if only they knew how we were really connected. They’d just feel bad for me, hoping on someone just because they saved my life once.

“Ayy,” someone went, whistling over the club sounds, “what about Juhaknyeon… he’s gonna be heart broken his princess has someone like Eric.”

“Are you jealous, Hak?”

I just shook my head.

But later when we’re partnering up for the club projects, you jumped over to my desk and said you wanted me as a partner. I guess you really do think of me as a friend—which I’m happy about! If nothing else at least we’re friends.

So now we’re partners in this project. Chanhee gifted me a camera to use for the club—he has many, he says. I would be bragging about it to you, but Eric’s around, and… I didn’t want to complicate things for you.

Eric tried to talk to me, though, which I found weird. He asked me about my major, how life is, and all that. Do you talk to him about me? I guess it’s only natural… But at the end of it, he told me, “I think you’re a good guy, Hak.” I guess that means he trusts me around you?

I kind of feel bad for wishing you were mine, because I don’t know, it just feels wrong now, and I’m sorry. Anyway, in other news, Sohyun asked me out today. She wanted to know straight up if we ‘wanted to try’ to date, and I said yes, I mean… just for the experience? Plus she’s always nice. I want to thank you for always being kind to me, though, because without you I wouldn’t have the confidence to go out with her.

I’ll try to actually talk to you sometime.

From,

Your Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

Eric was kind of aggressive towards me when I saw him at the end of all my classes, in the parking lot. I don’t even know why, because I just found out you two aren’t dating, so… why was he so mean, out of nowhere?

I guess I want to ask you but I don’t want to make you mad, either.

You looked actually happy when I met you for the project today. The whole catch is that we don’t have to do anything, really, for the club, our photos probably won’t even be selected for Chanhee’s project. But I tell you this and you said:

“No way! You like taking photos, so we’re gonna take your work to the gallery!”

You weren’t frowning or cursing when you said that, and you seem… not mad. Maybe I am a good influence around you, haha.

I should ask about you and Youngjae, I thought, so I did, “so you must be really glad Eric flew all the way here from L.A.? What are you guys doing?”

The same expression on your face that resembled gray clouds. “We’re just hanging out.”

Okay…

“So how long have you been dating?”

You gasped. “Wait you thought—”

I’m embarrassed for embarrassing you. “You’re not—?!”

“Eric’s a friend.” You frowned, looking down at the ground. You didn’t meet my eyes for a long time. “You thought we were dating? And you were happy about it?”

I don’t understand why you’d be upset that I’m happy for you… I didn’t say that, though. I just shrugged. “Sorry, it’s just—you two looked really close, and when you introduced him—”

“And you were happy I’m taken?” you shrugged my hand off you, and I didn’t put it on your shoulder a second time. “Anyway. We’ll take pictures good enough to get into Chanhee’s collection, alright?”

“I think we should make you the subject,” I told you. “You’re the prettiest thing anyone can photograph…” I trailed off. I wished I hadn’t said that, and anyway you barely heard me.

But you did hear me, though. You barked out a horrible laugh. “I guess now that you know I’m single, you can flirt all you want, huh?”

I tried to defend myself: “I wasn’t flirting, I was just saying you’re—”

You didn’t listen to me, you were playing with your camera.

You were in a good mood, up until lunch time. I sat with the photography club, and you mindlessly followed me there with your tray. The usual gossip ensued, but I wasn’t paying attention to it, I was just looking over at you. If you were eating well.

Sakura mentions my name and I suddenly get sucked back to reality. “So, Haknyeon and Sohyun are a thing now, right?”

“Holding hands~” Donghyuck teases, “there’s a photo of you two in the campus couples’ instagram.”

“Congratulations, you two…”

I looked away, unable to take the attention, and across from me Sohyun smiled. “Thanks, you guys…”

“Haknyeon and Sohyun?” I’ve never heard your voice so small, it made me cock my head to the side to watch you speak. You’re standing with your back turned to me. “They’re dating?”

“Holding hands,” says Rachel.

“Ah, Y/N’s sad~ She likes Haknyeon,” someone says.

You glared at Sohyun. “You think I don’t see right through you?” you hissed at her, and then you stood up, with a tray of half-eaten food, and walked off. I should have tried to stop you, because you never eat well, but Sohyun tried to talk to me now, and I can’t just shrug her off, we’re sort of an item now. I tried to text you, though, and you didn't reply. I’m still waiting on the text about the project.

Which brings me to my next recount: I don’t know what’s with it, but, like, Eric was kind of aggressive towards me when I saw him at the parking lot today. He bumped into my shoulder, actually rather harshly, and went: “next time think about what you’re doing.” What does he mean? I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, per se, at least to him…?

Anyway, I’m still waiting on your text. I’m thinking, I’ll really have you read all these letters, just so you can understand me better. I don’t like it when we fight.

Anyway, I’m sorry. If you’re in a bad mood you can come to me, though. :)

Your Haknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

This is a joke. I might never forget this conversation, it’s riding my mind and I can’t—

Y/n, you’re lying, there’s no way that

This is killing me.

When you met me today you’re actually in a good mood. You don’t even always dress like this… colorful, like spring flowers. You look pretty.

Words just flow and flow out of you, and sometimes you’d ask me about Sohyun.

(“Did you go on a date with her?” “Yeah” *snort* “That’s great.”)

I asked you why you didn’t bring your camera, and you shrugged. “It was actually Eric’s. I don’t actually own a camera—I don’t like taking photos.”

“But the club—?”

“Listen,” you said, “I might have learned the basics on lighting and angles, but I have no interest in photography and my gallery on my phone is all empty—I don’t even have an instagram.”

“I don’t have insta either—Wait, you don’t like photos?” I asked. “Then why did you—come here? This far? Join the club?”

“You were in line,” you say. “In front of me. I saw you, so I… signed up right after you.”

“What?”

“I like you.”

I made a noise that’s somewhere between a gasp and a cry. I don’t ask ‘what’ again, even though we both know that’s what I’m thinking.

“Haknyeon,” you say, “no matter how anti-social everybody else in the world thinks I am, I still try to be your friend, don’t I? I’m the one making the first move everywhere with you—I ask you to sit next to me on the bus, I invite you to parties myself, I asked you to be my project partner.”

“Y-yeah,” I say slowly, camera dropping to hang on my neck heavily. Nervous, so I’m playing with my hands. “Um… why do you do that?”

“Because I like you,” you insist. I’m dumbfounded, but you look angry that I’m dumbfounded and don’t believe you.

“You like me?” I probe, “After you’ve seen me in the snow—after you saw me like that, all… hurt…”

“I've liked you since then,” you say. “Actually, even before that. Before we even met in the snow. I always knew who you were, and liked you.”

I just gawk wordlessly until it makes you roll your eyes.

“Well,” you say, sighing, “you have a girlfriend, so I’m confessing. I know nothing will come out of it.”

“You don’t know,” I said suddenly, before I could stop myself.

“Don’t know what?”

“My pain. You don’t know how bad it is, how painful it was, so… you can’t like me. Because you don’t know me.”

You scoffed. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t know anything, huh.”

But I was wrong, Y/N, which I just decided I am, after I’m in bed thinking about today. I was wrong. I mean, there’s no way you like me, maybe you’re confused—a 5-year-old confusion. But I was wrong to assume you had no pain in your life. The way you glared at me when I said it just says it all. I was wrong to say that… But I guess now I can't take what I said back.

From,

Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

I have a feeling I might need to talk to you instead of writing letters I’ll never send. Maybe this will be the last one.

I just needed to talk to you about Sohyun.

We’re not dating anymore. I don't know what you'll think, it’s not like you were betting on us failing, but… well, nothing could keep us together! Not when Sohyun only wanted me to one-up you, anyway—and, yes, I knew it all along. I just pretended to be an idiot for a bit. I thought…

Nevermind what I thought.

What were you thinking?

Sohyun and I met at the school cafe after dark. She was angry, and I swear something was off, and one of her acrylic nails was broken. She was fuming when she stormed towards me, it was almost scary. “I’m going to fucking kill Y/N L/n!”

I’m always a little guarded for you, so I ask what happened.

“She attacked me,” Sohyun insisted. “She yelled at me—oh, I am writing this on the college forum, let everybody know what a fucking freak that girl is—she gets everywhere because her family’s famous, she’s arrogant, you know—”

“What did you do?” I asked out of the blue, just because I wanted to know, but she changed her entire demeanor at me, like a bird with ruffled feathers. A fight.

“What?” she spoke with narrowed eyes (that was about the time I realized I fucked up), “What does it matter what I did? She came over to my table and yelled insults at me.”

“What did you do that made her mad?” I asked. It might have been the most engaged I’ve ever been in any conversation with Sohyun, and it pains me to admit it’s about you.

“I’m dating you, if someone attacks me this way, you’re supposed to protect me,” Sohyun says adamantly, wringing her wrists everywhere. I think she might be madder at me than at you. “What kind of boyfriend—do you know what I go through trying to support you, walking on eggshells about those ugly fucking scars all over you, everyone thinks I’m a saint, so you should also—”

“Okay,” I say.

“I’m just saying, I do it out of the goodness of my heart, Haknyeon. Not just being your friend, but also trying to be your girlfriend.”

“Well you don’t have to be either.”

She gasps. “I am not getting dumped by a—” She hurled insults at me, one after another, that I was barely even sorry for her anymore. At the end of it, I smiled. My first real smile in a while.

“Dump me, then. Whatever you feel fits. I’m going home.” It was the most damage I could do, with my character. Somebody else would have hurt her more. I slinged my bag over my shoulder, and walked out on her.

I think I might need to give up on the Photography Club. I made an enemy out of the vice president, after all. It’s funny, it genuinely brought me joy, but I don’t feel bad when I think about leaving.

Because you don’t like it there, either.

—Your Hak

You’re sitting on a bench outside of the dorms, even though you don’t live there. It wasn’t the first time. You know Haknyeon’s window has to be somewhere in the visible lighted up windows, and sometimes you walk by, just to see if it’s still lighted up, or if it’s off, he’s sleeping, or sitting in the dark. As creepy as that is. You’ve always been curious about him, ever since high school. After that day in the snow, you threatened his bullies. You had to move away to America after that, but you made Younghoon keep an eye on them, never hurt a hair on Haknyeon’s head ever again.

You liked him for so long, and you hoped, if you ever did meet again, you’d at least have the courage to say hi. But it really happened, and the first night you saw him again, you couldn’t gather the courage. Instead you talked to Chanhee, and everybody else, just anyone but him. You couldn’t gather the strength.

You only loved him in the only way you knew how: protecting him. Telling people off when they used him as a gossip tool. When Sohyun used him… you fought back. That’s how you ended up here, in front of his dorms, with a swollen eyelid.

It’s necessary to mention you’ve never been in a fight before.

“What are you doing here?”

That’s Haknyeon deep voice, which you recognized immediately. With a sigh, you turn around.

“It’s not so I can see you, trust me.”

Back to his withdrawn character, he balances himself on his heels, mumbling, “why fight?”

“I think you mean ‘why did you fight’?” He kept staring at the ground. “Your taste is girlfriends is horrible…” You tutted. But your eye was hurting. “Do you have an ice pack or something? My eye really hurts.” Which was half truth but half just wanting to spend time with him.

Haknyeon takes you to a convenience store in the corner of the building block, and basically nurses you, carefully pressing the ice pack to your eye.

“How could her nail just scratch you?”

“Ow,” you say, “be gentle.”

“By the way, you’re really bad at fighting.”

“I literally fought her for y—” you stop yourself. “I mean. I just… she’s annoying.”

“I never realized.”

“Yeah, your perfect little girlfriend, huh?” you scoffed.

Haknyeon smiled like he had a secret, as he hummed, pressing the pack to your eye. “It must really hurt…”

“I think you’re been in more pain than me.” It just slipped out of your mouth, so you backpedal. “I mean… fuck, what’s wrong with me?”

“So you do remember everything,” he concluded.

“I don’t forget anything about you, actually. Not since the day we met—but meeting you here was an accident, I thought I’d have to search through facebook or insta to get your contact back again.”

“Well, I don’t use instagram so you’re lucky we met here…” Haknyeon smiled, expression warm and the ice pack on your face lessening the swelling. “Do you really mean it, that you’ve liked me since high school?”

“Every day since I met you. It’s love at first sight.”

“You don’t look like the type to believe in it, funnily.” He looks up at you, grinning. He’s never looked at you this way before—his eyes had some wonder in them. Like the space between stars, dark under the streetlight shade. “I don’t have a girlfriend, if you were wondering.”

Doubtfully, you quirk an eyebrow at him. “For real?”

“I decided ice princesses are better than universal-nice girls.” Haknyeon grinned at you. “I’m not… I’m not saying I need an answer straight away, though. It’s fine if you’ve changed your mind—”

“Haknyeon,” you say, “I made up my mind 5 years ago, when I saw you in the snow.” You reach over and swipe at the hair on his forehead, just like you wiped the blood back then. “Is this okay?” you ask, inching closer towards him.

“It’s okay.” His eyes closed, as if he’s trying to feel the moment with every cell in his body, and you take the opportunity to kiss him, closed eyelids and soft lips.

When you pull away, you swear you’ve never seen Haknyeon so smiley. Which makes you gloat. “Let’s see Sohyun top that,” you hissed under your breath. Ha! You kissed your crush of 5 years.

And you would keep kissing him… and kissing him and kissing him. And he never pulls away from you, no matter how cold, annoying, or mean you get. Sometimes all three of it at once.

~~

“You’re dating Juhaknyeon,” Donghyuck gushes. “I mean, I knew you liked him, but what’s all that with Eric, and Sohyun—”

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” you answered, “ever since freshman year of high school.” And you don’t hold his hand but you look over at him, into his sparkling eyes.

“Wow,” says Donghyuck. “First love?”

“Wow,” says Chanhee, with more emphasis. “Our first photography club couple!”

Haknyeon’s slowly starting to wear short sleeves, now. Soon it’ll be spring, and you can see the cherry blossoms, in the warm weather… and he’ll take off his jacket for once. Scars do heal and fade, and after you’ve kissed his, he swears, they’re fading out more quickly than ever. Not that you needed them to fade: you loved him for the scars, not despite, and you like him, just like this.

For Chanhee’s project, Haknyeon submits just one entry: you, in the snow, wearing almost the same outfit when he met you. This time, the snow remains white, pure. He’s not bleeding anymore.

#the boyz scenarios #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #Juhaknyeon x reader #juhaknyeon imagines #haknyeon x reader #haknyeon imagines #tbz scenarios

[tokai-teio]

behold, one of my doctor OCs, depicted terribly through a lazy sketch i did at work

she’s based off an aplomado falcon because her speciality tactic is ambushes

#doctor sepia #arknights #prefix draws #adventures of prefix #(didn’t think you’d ever see my art tag again‚ huh? me either) #sfw

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨4

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) only plot hehe

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m at my tipping point, I swear. I’m dealing with everything in our household, new bed (delayed delivery yay!), cleaning, cooking, dog walking, and working. My only escape are my fics and this weekend I’m telling everyone to fuck off so I can do the writeathon... but sorry for the rant, enjoy more Clark.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Wednesday trickled by like sand in a glass. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you typed away and a double espresso shot was the only thing that saw you through your hours at the gallery. Vanessa was excited for her next event and already asking after some new pieces from you. You promised her some from your storage unit to stave her off as you held in your yawns. 

You collapsed into bed that night beside Marcus. He complained about his day until he drifted off and you followed suit shortly after. You awoke with a decision, the echoes of your boyfriend’s gripes in your head and heart. You hated how miserable his job made him, how dull your own was. It felt like there was nothing else but the almighty dollar.

You called Clark after an email to Jim, your nerves alight in anticipation of the disgruntled reply. It didn’t matter. You were done. You didn’t need to worry about the all caps messages and curt zoom calls.

“Hey,” Clark picked up, he sounded out of breath.

“Oh, hey, sorry, it’s me,” you swiveled in your chair, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nope, just getting in a work out,” he grunted, “you’re not bugging me if you have good news for me.”

“I think… I do,” you forced out, “I just sent in my resignation.”

“Mmm, you don’t sound… happy,” he hummed.

“I am, I think I’m just processing it,” you replied, “I said I’d let you know today so I’m letting you know.”

“Well, how soon can you be here?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I guess, I could leave as soon as you want me,” you said.

“I’ll send a car,” he intoned, “I’ll give the driver your number, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” your voice almost squeaked, “I can do that.”

“Alright, sweetheart, see ya soon.”

The line cut out and you lowered your phone slowly. You stared at Outlook and the new email icon along the taskbar. You closed the laptop and stood. You could worry about the fallout later, right now, you had to get ready for another day of painting.

🎨

It was starting to feel like deja vu every time you arrived at Clark’s house. You got out and thanked the drive, Jeremy, before he drove off. The doors opened before you got to the top of the steps and your host was already dressed in the same outfit he wore for each session. His hair was neat but his beard was even thicker than before.

“I think you can tell I’m a little antsy to start,” he chuckled, “how are you, sweetheart?”

That pet name caught in your mind again. It might just be a habit of his. Nothing more than an absent-minded word.

“Me too, honestly,” you smiled, “but I have a weird question for you.”

“Ask away,” he said as he walked with you through the foyer.

“The beard… you want that in the portrait or--”

“Oh, ha, yeah,” he ran his fingers along his jawline, “I guess I wasn’t thinking. You’re the artist, what do you think?”

“Well, erm, either way is fine,” you said, “I was just… wondering. I’m not even close to starting on, uh, you yet. I mean, right now I’m just working on the background and basic shapes.”

“I’ll let you make the call when you get there,” he said, “say the word and it’s gone.”

“Alright,” you came to the top of the stairs and he pointed you ahead of him.

He followed you as you entered and you went about filling the jar with water and resituating the set up. He sat as you mixed and chose your brush. You climbed the ladder and peered around the canvas at him. He took on the same pose as usual and you dipped the bristles into the pigment. You could make a happy life of this.

🎨

Clark shifted and cleared his throat. You rolled your wrist and glanced back over at him as you drew your hand back from the canvas. He braced the chair and pushed himself up.

“How about a break?” he asked as he shook out his arms, “back’s a bit stiff.”

“Sure,” you said, “I think I could sit down for a moment.”

You took a step down the rung of the ladder but your toe slipped and suddenly your palette was against your chest. You slid down backwards as Clark rushed over and barely kept you from toppling the entire thing over. You laughed at yourself as he righted you and looked down at your paint-streaked shirt.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“You okay?” he asked as he kept his hand on your upper arm, “be careful.”

“Yeah, I’m-- clumsy, is all,” you carefully pulled away and set down your brush and palette.

“Come on, sit,” he pulled up the stool and planted it before you, “take a minute.”

As you sat, he stretched his arms over his head and then out to the sides. He paced around the other side of the table, long strides as he worked the cramps from his long legs. He stopped and came up to play with a brush as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“Well, I did have another offer for you,” he said, “I was thinking of waiting but might as well ask now.”

“Oh?” you raised your brows curiously.

He swished a slender brush in the air then lowered it and picked at the tip.

“I’m having a get together on Saturday, some business friends and the like,” he said as he set the brush back with the rest, “it won’t be work. You’ve earned some time off. You can even bring the boyfriend.”

“Saturday?” you pondered, “I’m usually at the gallery on Saturdays.”

“It would be great networking,” he said, “and I already told all my friends about you. They’re excited to see your work. It will almost be like a viewing and it’s only right the artist is there.”

“I could make it work,” you mulled, “Marcus would love to come back.” You snickered, “he loves this place.”

“It’s a nice house,” he said casually, “a bit big for one person… hence, the party.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” you stood and slid your palette closer and cleaned it off to remix the mess of paints.

“Great,” he said as he rounded the table and brushed close to you, “it’ll be nice to look at a mug besides mine, huh?”

You laughed as you squeezed out the dark paint and nodded, “ha, sure.”

🎨

The rest of your week was spent much the same. Jeremy drove you to Clark’s and you went up to the studio to continue your work between small talk and silences that grew so thick you had to break them with mindless comments. It wasn’t enough to focus on the path of your brush as the man tugged at your attention.

Marcus was excited when you told him about the party. He raved about how he needed to let loose, about how much expensive alcohol he was going to drink, and the awesome backflip he was gonna do into the pool. You reminded him, he hadn’t done anything like that since college but he swore he could still do it.

You didn’t share the sentiment. You were anxious. You were flattered to be invited but despite what Clark said, it still felt like work. His friends were going to be there and he apparently was trying to sell them on your art. 

You didn’t realise until after you hit send on your email, but you put your livelihood in this man’s hands. A man, you reminded yourself, who was little more than a stranger.

On Friday, a day you were thankfully not called to the mansion to teeter on the ladder and paint, the buzzer rang and drew you off the couch from amid your YouTube binge. The man on the speaker called back that he had a delivery and you let him up. You took the box from him, the thick silver ribbon giving away the sender even before you could read the tag.

Inside you found a black dress with little gemstones set into the fabric like stars in the sky. It was nicer than anything you’d ever owned before and a pair of silver shoes were tucked in beneath the outfit. You took the shoes from the tissue paper and something else shifted in the bottom.

You reached in and revealed a velvet box from the depths of overzealous stuffing. You opened the lid and found a simple chain of diamonds. You gaped in disbelief. They were real. The fake ones didn’t look so nice.

You phone chimed before you could even think to call Clark. It was as if he could see you. You answered and your voice warbled pathetically.

“Hi, I was just gonna call,” you touched your throat as it constricted.

“Yeah? I got the notification that it was delivered,” he said, “you like it?”

“It’s too much,” you gulped out, “really, I can’t--”

“I want you to look nice. I want you to feel good and have a good time,” he said, “I feel like you’ve been working so hard. You need a chance to just let it all go.”

“Look, I…” you were uncertain how to handle it. It was more than generosity but you felt wrong denying it as much as you did accepting it, “I’ve never had a boss buy me diamonds. At least let me give those back.”

“Boss?” he mused on the word, “I suppose, but you gotta dress the part now, sweetheart. You’re gonna rub shoulders with a lot of rich dicks like me. Pardon my language.”

“I didn’t realise it was such an upscale thing,” you put the velvet box down and turned to sit on the couch beside the large box. You played with the silver ribbon and chewed your lip.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing, you got this,” he said, “trust me, if you can win me over, my friends will be child’s play.”

“Mhmmm,” you stared at the tv mindlessly, “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

There was silence and you heard him sigh then a subtle metallic click.

“Because I can. And you’re a talented artist. Didn’t all the big painters used to have patrons back in the day? You know, Da Vinci and all that.”

“Sure, I guess--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m glad you like the dress, I gotta go.”

He hung up abruptly and you turned your phone to stare at it in confusion. You were starting to get a bad feeling and that little voice in that back of your head, that little sabotaging bitch, whispered in your ear. No, you wouldn’t let your self-doubt get the best of you this time. You either grabbed this chance or you spent the rest of your life doing menial work and painting the world as it passed you by.

🎨

Friday night, Marcus couldn’t stop rambling about the party the next day. You just couldn’t get over the tickle in your chest, the same one you got before job interviews and doctor’s appointments. You were on edge, even as you spent your stress on him, your body writhing against his as you panted and pouted. It had been a while since you fucked. All the work and the stress had just let things slip past you. Maybe with your new gig, you could get back to those early days when it was all you wanted to do.

You slept soundly. You blamed the sex and the momentous week. You got up, had a lazy brunch time meal, and beat Marcus at MarioKart several times over before he convinced you it was time to get ready. 

You pulled on the gifted outfit after fighting with your make-up and hair. You gave a little tada spin to Marcus and he lifted his brow as he tried to figure out his tie.

“Wow, where’d you get that?” he purred, “fuck, let’s be late.”

He ran his hands over your hips as you neared him and fixed his tie for him. You giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jeremy’s on his way,” you warned, “I don't wanna bite the hand that feeds.”

“Oh, and it feeds you well,” Marcus chirped, “you think he’ll let me have a spin in the McClaren?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. I don’t need to scrape you off the side of the road,” you took your phone as the screen lit up, “come on, he’s here.”

“Fuck, babe, really, you’re gonna make me follow you out of here with your ass looking like that?”

“Stop,” you tittered, “you know, there might be more sellers tonight?”

“Oh yeah? I guess you’ll be paying a mortgage soon enough.”

“Me?” you scoffed.

“Sure, I’ll be your sugar baby,” he kidded.

“Well, baby is accurate,” you teased as you stepped onto the elevator, “please, just behave.”

🎨

You were surprised to see Vanessa at the party but reassured to see a familiar face. Clark had been distracted by his other guests and you did your best to mingle, letting Marcus take the lead until he was distracted by another guest’s Rolex and started asking too many questions. If you did start selling art to these kinds, you suspected you’d be paying for a lot of overpriced brands. That was a worry for another time.

You stood with Vanessa and a man she introduced you to. Bruce Wayne was tall and his dark-hair was combed back neatly as he spoke over the glass of wine in his hand. You were bored of the Monet-Manet argument, one you’d heard a million times from the stubborn gallery owner, and you were at your limit of socialisation.

You excused yourself and put down your unfinished drink on a table. You looked around but couldn’t see Marcus anywhere. The last you saw him, he was with Clark but you couldn’t find him either. You frowned and wandered between the pairs and trios gabbing around the room.

Just past the bar, you looked back and still no sign of either man. You huffed and your heels clicked into the foyer and to the stairs. You’d go to the studio and sit for a moment and collect yourself. You just needed to take a breath.

You climbed the stairs slowly, the din of the party floating up behind you. You came to the top but stopped as your eyes were drawn to a pair of open doors opposite the studio. You neared and stayed against the wall as you peeked inside. Marcus admired an old-six shooter and spun the barrel.

“You got everything, man, I swear,” you hid behind the door frame and listened.

“Eh, it’s all just things,” Clark replied, “I bought that from an auctioneer down in Texas. A verified antique but it just hangs here. Not good for much but looking at it.”

“Dude, what I wouldn’t do to live here? Have cool guns and even cooler cars? Shit, you know how fucked it is that my lady is making bank and I’m over here with my dick in my hands? I mean, I’m proud of her but… I mean, if I could get paid thousands for drawing, I would’ve tried to learn.”

“She’s good. Dedicated,” Clark remarked, “she’s special. Worth more than money.”

Marcus hummed and you heard the barrel click back into the place. Neither of the men spoke as you heard something shift and Clark cleared his throat. Subtle footsteps moved around the room and you pressed yourself to the wall. You should leave and let them talk but you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Isn’t she?” Clark prodded.

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know. I just wish I had more,” Marcus said, “I probably sound like a chump, huh?”

“You can’t have it all,” Clark replied.

“Says the guy who can buy anything and everything,” Marcus moped.

“Oh?” Clark intoned, “so… how about it then? Fifty thousand.”

“For what?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Her,” Clark answered.

“Her-- I… my girlfriend?” he sputtered.

“If money can buy me anything, that’s what I want,” Clark said firmly, “it’s a one time offer… whether or not you agree to it, I’m gonna fuck her.”

You skin crawled at his words and you covered your mouth in disgust and shock. You inched closer to the door to hear better as you waited for the response.

“One hundred,” Marcus said.

“Seventy-five,” Clark countered.

“That’s my girlfriend, dude,” Marcus hissed.

“And yet you’re haggling with me over her. Eighty.”

You tore yourself from the wall before you could hear anymore. You felt hollow and heavy all at once. Your eyes were glossy as you scurried over to the studio doors and pushed the left one open. You unhooked the diamond necklace and tossed it onto the paint-stained palette and rolled up your brushes.

You stormed over blindly to the easel and pushed it over. It clattered to the floor loudly but you were already out the door and halfway down the stairs. You gripped your clutch and the bundle of paintbrushes tightly as you continued on outside and the blurred outlines of luxury cars passed you by. 

You stomped up the long drive in your heels as you flicked away tears and pulled out your phone. You knew it was too good to be true. Any of it; your art, Clark, Marcus. You weren’t good for anyone unless they could get something out of you.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #superman #portrait of a dangerous man #dc #dcu #mob au #au #mob!au

[harfanfare]

I saw this post and I was wondering if you write Malleus' too, is okay for you to make that?

How to win a heart of Malleus Draconia?

a/n: I started posting my writings here because I want to improve my English — so I technically wouldn't make this request. But! Someone on Wattpad (where I take requests) asked for the same thing, so I rolled up my sleeves and wrote this guide today in both languages. Enjoy~

1. Don't be afraid of him.

It is said that the first impression is the most important.

So when you first saw this guy walking through the corridor of Diasomnia, it was hard for you to get rid of that view from your head.

Illuminated both by the green magic flames set in the lobby, as well as by the moon, which eventually managed to break through the dark clouds and with a bright glow appear in the windows of the dormitory, he seemed... lonely and beautiful.

You shuddered as you took a step down the hallway and the dark-haired man turned to you. He measured you with his emerald eyes. And then you recognized him; all the conversations about the mysterious and fearsome Malleus Draconia flew through your head.

Everything told you to rush towards the hallway and run as far as possible, but a piece of you found it inappropriate. Or rather, no one would want to chase everyone away from themself... right?

When you realized you were looking at him for a while, you took a deep breath and nod slightly.

"Good evening, Draconia-san," you said quickly. After a while you added, "The moon is beautiful today, don't you think?”

 2. Smile a lot.

Today was a really wonderful day: the test was postponed, your favorite dish was given in the canteen, and for some reason, the last two lessons were canceled – your class had to make just a quick note about a topic and it took less than fifteen minutes.

"Something happened?" Malleus asked, seeing how almost in the jumps you walk past him. When you looked at him, he added, "You smile a lot.”

"I can stop smiling if you want," you made a sad face, but after a while, the corners of your mouth began to tremble uncontrollably and twisted up again. "Oops, I can’t. Today... it was such a good day... that I think I'm slowly using my life's happiness.”

"I didn't say that smiling is bad," he said. "You look so much better when you smile.”

"Oh," you sighed with apparent surprise. "Is it a compliment?"

"It’s rather a fact..?"

 3. From time to time visit him during club activities.

"Is this a class of the ‘Gargoyle research society club’?” with a deaf knock you opened the door. Malleus turned to you, making a break from browsing through the materials gathered in the library about the history of each of the gargoyles on the school grounds. And there were a lot of them.

"Yes," he replied briefly, getting up. "Do you need something, [Name]?"

"Not at all, my club don’t have a meeting today," you said, closing the door behind you.

You looked around: the room was as clean as ever, except for one desk, where were laid several huge volumes about statues in NRC.

“Are you here alone?” You said before you thought. You lowered your eyes to see Malleus nodding unconcerned slightly. You blinked several times trying to think of what else you could say. "This room... could be a secret base," that was the first thing that came to your mind. Malleus turned his head to one side, uncertain of your response.

“A secret base..? Why?”

"I have no idea," you admitted quickly. "But the very existence of a mysterious point is interesting, isn't it? Doing normal things, such as watching movies or just talking, seems more interesting in places like this,” After a moment of silence, you sighed. "You know what, this idea with the base is stupid”

"We can try," he replied with serious tone. You raised your eyes to see how he looked around the room. "But you'll just have to explain this idea to me in more detail. We can also tell Lilia, Silver and Sebek about it...” he smiled as if seeing your five together in his thoughts was a pleasure. "It will be surely... fun.”

 4. Get yourself a Tamagotchi.

"Look!" you spin a new key chain on your finger. You finally stopped and showed it to Malleus. "Now they are matching!”

A small electronic toy, in a dark green screen that, when it flashed, showed a virtual, pixelated animal. You were impressed with how good quality it was made, especially since you only gave the Shroud brothers a sketch of a toy that Malleus owned.

Your keychain was exactly the same, just a different color and with another pet.

Malleus pulled out his own device and put it on the table. He pressed one of the buttons and a small pet appeared on the keychain – a dragon.

"They can now be friends," you brought your toy closer to so-called Gao-Gao Dragon-kun.

"Do you think so?" He asked in a very surprised tone, but it sounded as if in a moment he were about to burst out with an inexplicably joyful and surprised laugh.

"Of course. Everyone needs a decent friend, no?”

 5. Gain the trust of Lilia, Silver and Sebek.

Lilia, one of Malleus' closest people. It is much more likely that you will meet him before Malleus. He will be very proud when he learns that Malleus has found a friend. If you become a taster of Lilia, in terms of his pastries, he will 100% like you, and at 20% you will leave the kitchen alive and well.

Silver, who has mastered the art of sleeping in any conditions. It's easy to get him into your plans, although with the craziest ones he will hesitate. Rather well-disposed towards everyone, he can cover for you when you are not in class— but he usually inadvertently falls asleep and both of you often have penal assignments after school.

Sebek, faithful to Malleus, if he doesn't like you, you won't have too many opportunities to stay by Malleus's side without a thunderous glances at you. He will recognize you if you will listen carefully to his monologues about his master and as a sign of your friendship, he will teach you by heart of all the titles and achievements of Malleus so far.

With this trio by your side, you can get a lot further than you might have imagined...

 6. Be a master in hide and seek.

You’d give your right arm that your breath was too loud.

You pressed your hands to your mouth as you crouched in the corner of the room.

From whose voices you already heard, you knew that Lilia had already found Sebek. This meant that you or Silver would still be helping cook dinner since Malleus didn’t come at the start of the game.

This may seem silly, but the ability to play classic games was one of the elements of the art of survival in Diasomnia.

It was thanks to games like ‘stone-paper-scissors’, hide and seek or tag that household chores fell on the shoulders of the losers. Lilia loved the idea, and there was always a proud smile on his lips when he saw his beloved children play together.

You heard the steps behind you and shivered.

Very slowly you turned around and looked up to see Malleus standing over you and wondering what you were doing, crouching in the darkest corner of the room.

Puns were also included in the survival pack.

Fearing that Lilia would hear your whisper, you put your finger on your mouth, asking him not to say a word. You put a begging eye into it – all but not cooking with Lilia. Not again.

Malleus nodded, recognizing the gravity of the situation, although he smiled.

Really, no one would want Malleus to be an enemy.

Or at least in such a situation.

 7. Do not hesitate to ask him for help with learning.

"In theory, you should focus on the space around you," Malleus pulled a wand in front of him. It flashed, and almost at the same time, a thin but incredibly strong protective barrier was created around him. “Weaker spells can be reflected. In turn, the stronger ones are better to block”

You nodded understandingly.

Defensive magic was not something easy to understand. Most depended on the person against whom the counter spell was being prepared. And there are countless people who walk on this Earth and want to start fights.

"Unique spells block or avoid physically," he continued. You nodded at every subsequent sentence, slowly feeling like all the lessons are eventually gaining transparency. “Using unique magic against unique magic, the stronger will win, both will lead to explosions or completely reduce.

He looked at you when you wrote down the last sentence in your notebook.

"I sincerely hope that you will only need this information in class," he said with a sigh. "If you need help, call me. I will come. I promise.”

 8. Sometimes be persuaded to wear extravagant clothes.

"Do you really think it suits me?" you turned around, looking at yourself from every possible angle in the mirror.

You were going to the theater in a few classes to see some era-related play that you've been discussing now in history lessons. Everyone, respecting the reputation, actions and achievements of theatre, dressed in their best clothes.

Malleus stood next to you.

He was already wearing a black and white outfit with green accessories. They all worked so well together and fitted him like a glove that you were sure that the whole outfit was made especially for him.

"Yes," he replied. "Everything you put on today suited you very well.”

Once again, with critical eyesight, you looked at the outfit, face and hair, before you quickly turned off the lights in the room and closed the door behind you.

Then you smiled at Malleus.

"We can go now," you said. You made your way through the portal to the main NRC building. "And... thank you for your help.

"My pleasure," he said. Under no circumstances was it just a polite formula. He really loved looking at you.

 9. Invite him to your birthday/party.

"Another break from school soon, huh?" — you muttered, leaning against the railing.

You took a deep breath and let the fresh, pleasant air refresh you.

"Are you going to home, [Name]?" Malleus asked. Green lights were still flying around him, so you guessed he’d just appeared here.

"I haven't decided yet," you sighed. "It would be nice to go home, but the break won't be very long... Ah, that's right!” you straightened up and turned to him. "How about spending another break together? As soon as I can, I will contact my family... although I cannot promise anything.”

Though he did not show it, Malleus' heart beat a little faster.

Spend free time? With someone? With someone he likes?

"Of course," he sounded less calm than he thought. He wasn’t often invited anywhere, even for the things he should have been on, so there was a lot of excitement growing in his body. "I don't see anything against it.”

 10. From "The Great Malleus Draconia-sama" to "Love".

"Ah, The Great Malleus-sama!" you sighed theatrically, taking from him a box of chocolates with a joyful smile. You could promise that because of this dark-haired boy here, you slowly become pampered. "Thank you for your generosity!”

Malleus frowned.

"The Great Malleus-sama"..?” he pondered, putting his fingers to his chin. "Did Sebek told you again to call me with this title?"

"No," you laughed softly at his reaction. "I did it out of curiosity. Maybe I could call you some cute nickname, hmm?" you smiled mischievously.

"For example?"

"By adding ‘-chan’ to your name?” you turned on your phone and typed something related to the nicknames. You started reading suggestions and struggled to hold back from laughing. ” ’Sunshine’, ‘star’, ‘flower’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘love’...

"I like the last one," he said, and the invisible force stung you to the ground.

"Would you like me to call you like that? Out of curiosity or out of love?" You laughed, but your cheeks were all red with blushes.

He smiled sincerely at your reaction.

"Hmm, I wonder..?"

#i wonder too #malleus draconia #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst malleus x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #diasomnia x reader #twst malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #anonymous

[90stvshowgoth]

—BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: after dabi was seen leaving your apartment complex last week, the commission has sent a lesser known hero to help guard the building until new cameras are installed. however, no security measures in the world could keep dabi out.

w/c: 5064

tags: dubcon, cuckolding, creampie, voyeurism, humiliation, exhibitionism, arson

a/n: this is the final chapter to this little duology, and the reason why its so much shorter is because the first one was really supposed to stand on its own, but i got so many requests for a sequel i couldn’t help it. so i just took the kinks i didn’t get to use last time and pay off some setup and voila. however, just ‘cause this is the last chapter of this story doesn’t mean i’m not gonna write a fuck ton of other stuff for him. ily burn man. plus i’m working on a huge, multi-chapter fic for him while i post smaller one-shots >:) that being said, enjoy.

The impact Dabi left on your life was far bigger than you thought it would’ve been on the night you snuck him away from the law. As he was running from the cops someone saw him climb through your window, and a different person also saw him climb down the fire escape. With witnesses like that, the other tenants were downright furious.

You almost felt bad for the landlord, it wasn’t his fault you were insane enough to willingly let a villain come inside both you and your apartment.

Your landlord and the police department came up with a solution. The apartment complex would be installing new state-of-the-art locks on all fire-escape adjacent windows free of charge. This wasn’t exactly an issue with seeing Dabi again, since all you had to do was purposefully leave yours unlocked.

It would take two weeks to install all the cameras, but until then, a community-assigned hero would be stationed to guard the complex.

His name was Kao, a middle-ranked hero with bright orange hair and a winning smile framed with dimples. At first you thought he might’ve been one of the better heroes, waving you off to work and walking you there the other day, but recently he’d begun to creep you out. The friendly conversations about a tv show you both enjoyed began to turn into invasive questions about your love life.

A week of lingering glances and uncomfortable prying culminated that Friday as he had flat out asked you to dinner moments prior.

“C’mon, I just— I said that wrong, lemme try again,” He stuttered, keeping pace with you as you marched towards the building.

“No, Kao, look, you’re cool and all, but I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” You huffed, striding into the doorway and towards the elevator. That might not’ve been the whole truth but you obviously couldn’t tell him that you had the hots for a terrorist.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well you just got off work, right? I remember which room you stay in, maybe I can swing by tonight?”

You whirled on him, your jaw slack in shock at the insensitivity of his words. The reminder that he knew where you lived sending a shiver down your spine, “Kao, this conversation is done. I don’t want you following me around anymore, hero,”

Deep down, your words sounded familiar. If they were raspier and said behind a thin veil of indifference, you might’ve realized that you were talking like Dabi.

“What is that supposed to mean? We’re the good guys!” You slammed your fist down on the close-door button, your mouth a thin line, daring Kao to make a move and stop the doors. He didn’t, and soon the reassuring pull of the elevator set your shaking body at ease.

‘Who does he think he is?’ You were bitter, rightfully so, you think.

You were so frustrated that you had difficulty inserting your keys into the lock, twisting it with a growl and throwing open the door, ready to collapse onto your pillow and vent to whoever was online about your heroic stalker.

When you noticed the scent of cigarettes in the air.

“Hey, doll,” Warmth surged through your chest at the sight of him, the villain’s feet kicked up onto the coffee table.

You were hanging your coat on the hook before moving beside him to the couch, “What took you so long?”

“Not happy to see me? You seem a lot bitchier than I remember,” The crude edge of his humor was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling niceties of work, and you smiled for what felt like the first time that day.

Shaking your head, you toed out of your boots and made your way to the frayed couch, “I’ll tell you all about him,”

That got his attention, “Him?”

“A hero,” Dabi’s frown worsened, an accusatory look in his eyes, “before you ask, no, you idiot, I hate this guy, there’s not a chance I’d sleep with him.”

The tensity in his shoulders relaxed, bring the half-finished Newport to his lips as you continued, “Since you broke in last week all my neighbors lost their shit. They threatened to sue if my landlord didn’t assign a hero to watch the building for a bit. I thought he was cool, but I’ve just decided that he’s a total prick.”

He hummed, nodding understandingly, “Want me to kill him?”

You gaped, hitting him on the chest, “Wha—No, Dabi, what the hell?”

He just shrugged, the intensity of his words almost funny to you, and as you recounted the last twenty minutes the ashes of Dabi’s cigarette fell to the floor. The dying lights of the sun streamed through your window, the smoke oddly beautiful in the glow as he handed you the last hit of his cheap cigar.

“You know why heroes are like that?” You shook your head, enjoying the numbing calm of tobacco, “It’s cause they’re spoiled. They go their entire lives being praised for everything they do so they don’t know how to take no for a fuckin’ answer,”

Apparently your smoking buddy was feeling talkative, much to your delight. His words made you pause, remembering the relieved faces of your neighbors whenever they’d see the gaudy costume Kao wore as he strode by.

“Shit... guess you’re right,” You mumbled into his side, not minding the ever-present aroma of burnt skin and smoke that clung to Dabi’s coat.

He scoffed, “I’m always right, baby,” His words earning him a pinch on the arm.

“No, you ass, just about the hero stuff,” He grinned, the staples on his dimples taut against his skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Careful, doll, you’re starting to sound like a villain,” The drop in your stomach sent heat down your skin, yet somehow you were still shivering under his predatory gaze.

You shook your head, trying to will away the red that dusted your cheeks, “No way, my quirk isn’t strong enough to be a villain,”

He raised his eyebrow expectantly, broadly gesturing for you to go on.

“Well...” God, why is this embarrassing? “I can give people headaches.”

You didn’t know if he would laugh at you or belittle you for your meaningless quirk, but he did neither.

“Think you could practice it more? Get better at it?” He was serious, staring at you and expecting an answer.

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, “I mean, maybe? It’s not hard to do, I guess,”

Dabi smirked, pulling you onto his lap. It felt as if the week hadn’t happened at all and you were right back where you started, your face flushing at the memories of that night. He dragged you close, eyes dark as he whispered something into your ear...

“Think you could split someone’s head open with a migraine?”

Your gut wrenched, flinching at the gory idea and making you sit up in Dabi’s lap. The atmosphere in the room hadn’t changed, his stare as menacing as before.

That is, until he started to crack up. Louder than you’d ever heard before, his fit filled the apartment until he had to cup his stomach from laughing too hard; the wheeze in his rough throat echoing around the room as your blush spread all the way down your neck.

“Oh, you asshole!” If anything, your shove against his chest only made him more giddy. The panic-fueled adrenaline was still surging through your body, unwillingly making the wetness between your thighs spread, even as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that Dabi had been fucking with you.

Your legs shook as he held on to you for balance, his cackling dying down but the shit-eating grin never leaving his face, “You were so freaked out, huh?”

“Yeah, no shit!”

He hummed, running a hand through your hair and suddenly yanking you forward, basking in the sharp yelp it brought from you, “You’re cute when you’re scared,”

You’d missed the way his scabbed lips felt on yours more than you’d ever admit. There was something about him that left you breathless, eager and questioning your life choices. Groaning into his mouth before pulling back and laving your slick tongue along his disfigured lower lip, you rolled your aching heat against him to force a truly pornographic moan from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck—” One of his hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass through your jeans, “Fucking hell, you missed me that much?”

You nodded dumbly into his shoulder, pressing chaste kisses along the ragged skin as he slid his finger past the band of your jeans, cupping your dripping sex with wide eyes.

“Goddamn, s’no way you’re this wet for me already,” His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to figure out why you were hiding into his neck, “What’s got you so worked up, doll?”

You couldn’t come up with a good excuse in time, Dabi thinking back to how your thighs had tightened up when he asked if you could kill someone, your eyes were frightened back then, yes, but there was something else. Something you wouldn’t tell him.

When the realization hit him, it hit hard.

“Holy shit, you get off on being scared?” He couldn’t believe his luck, the embarrassed groan you buried into his shoulder confirming his suspicions.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, a childish wonder over his features, “Aren’t I fuckin’ lucky?” He sneered, pulling you back til you were at eye-level again.

“I’m gonna try something, baby,” there was an edge to his voice as he settled one hand on the small of your back, pressing your tits against his chest as he held your bra strap back with the other.

“What are you… Dabi, what are you doing?” The scent of fire and burning fabric filled the air, the ends of your bralette smoking between his fingertips, embers turning to ash and sprinkling down the couch until it was flimsy enough for Dabi to rip free, teeth sinking into your neck as he held you still to keep your skin safe.

It was jarring and a bit terrifying to be restrained against someone like Dabi without knowing his intentions. But nothing in you could deny the blinding rush of pleasure it ripped down your spine.

“It’s all starting to make sense, doll-face, I guess I was right the first time,” His hands tossed the smoking bra into hallway, reaching between you and torturously pinching and pulling on the rosy blush of your tits, “you do have a thing for villains,”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy again, doll,” Without warning he shoved your torso forward, your body bouncing against the couch, his hands flying to the button of your jeans.

“—Didn’t have time to take you right last time, didn’t get to taste you,” his words made you whimper in his grasp, keeping your legs somewhat raised as tugged down the tight denim.

You fully expected him to take you rough like before, make you choke on his cock before having his fill, but as he tugged off your black panties he crawled down the trembling body beneath him, slowly moving over your ribs, your stomach, and finally your drooling cunt.

He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled your thighs closer, keeping them spread wide as the hot fan of his breath on your pussy sent a thrill through your neglected nerves.

“I want you to scream my name,” It was an order, not a request. The unhinged tremor in his hands was unsettling, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Dabi’s tongue immediately found your clit, mouth wrapping around the glistening bead and sucking all at once, the moan it drew from your lips unholy. He moaned at the taste, hiking up your hips onto his shoulders.

“Christ, you’re sweet, doll, like fuckin’ candy...” He muttered in disbelief, more to himself that to you, licking a wide stripe along your drenched lips, diving into you deep enough to have your limbs spasming around him.

On instinct your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the sharp cry that the villain drew. He didn’t warn you before bringing his hand up high and slapping it into the bare skin of your thigh, a scream echoing through the living room. Distantly, you wondered if your neighbors could hear...

“Don’t you dare hide a single sound from me, slut, or this ends now,” his ultimatum was scary but the insult felt heavy in a way you’d never felt before, and you nodded without a second thought, breathlessly bunching one hand into the arm of the couch above you and the other into the ashy black of his hair.

You nodded down to him, silently saying to continue; the villain fixed on watching as your chest swelled in time with your breathing, a rush of blood going to the heat of his cock.

His pace was hungry, nipping at your thighs whenever he thought you were too comfortable, spinning circles into your clit with his tongue and chuckling at the noises it brought, “You gonna cum, princess?” You could only respond with a scream of his name, the plea music to his ears, but he needed you to be louder if he was to get what he wanted.

“Louder,” Dabi called your name like a prayer, moaning into your cunt as you practically suffocated him between your thighs, “Fuck—Louder, baby, scream it,”

“Dabi!!” Your orgasm was hot against his tongue and he drank in every last drop of your climax until you were wrenching away his greedy mouth, your pussy swollen and red from his care.

Just as you started to compose yourself, a frantic banging sounded on the door. Someone from the hallway was slamming down their fist, screaming your name.

“Hey! Did you just say Dabi?! Are you okay in there?” It was Kao.

Horror clawed away any kind of afterglow as you cupped your hand to your mouth, leaning up on your elbow and whispering, “What do I say?”

Dabi’s voice was just low enough to hide behind the pounding of Kao’s fists, “Do you trust me?”

Before you could answer the hero behind the wall called your name again.

“If you don’t answer me in five seconds I’m breaking this door down!”

Your gaze flickered from the front door to the villain that was wiping your slick from his chin.

“Yes,”

Dabi grinned, grabbing your wrists and holding you against his shirt, one hand wrapped painfully around your tits and the other erupting with blue fire in his palm.

“Come and get her, hero!” You made a confused squeal, thrashing around in his grasp, eyes wide and afraid as Dabi shushed into your ear, trying to calm you down.

‘Like hell if you’d calm down, he’d practically just signed your death sentence!’ you heaved against the fugitive, trying to shake yourself free to no avail.

All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and imagine you were somewhere else as door was jolted in its hinges, the doorknob falling with a distant clang, and before you could beg Dabi to stop whatever stupid game he was playing, Kao ran into the room, eyes furrowed and fists raised as the door squeaked on the loose hinges behind him, blissfully unaware.

“Where are y—“ Kao’s voice paused mid-sentence, you flinched in Dabi’s hold, the heat of the redhead’s stare washing over you, naked and wet, making you tilt your head down, trying to hide yourself from the world.

“Isn’t she cute, hero?” Dabi rasped against you, the heat of his fire illuminated against the sweaty sheen of your trembling body. Kao didn’t know what to do, flustered and struggling to hide the tent in his latex costume.

You knew fighting back against the villain was pointless, falling limp in the strength of his arms as he chuckled into your neck, looking over at the bump in his pants, “You were right, babe, I think he likes you,”

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Kao screamed, diving towards the couch with his fist raised back.

Dabi simply grinned, carefully hovering his flame ever closer to your now bare tits, you couldn’t help but scream at the proximity, and whatever plan Kao had in his mind died before his fist could make impact.

His novocaine laced voice spoke calmly beside your ear, “Any closer and she’s dead,” The hot rush down your legs wasn’t due to his flames, as one hand took to rubbing your sensitive sex, the sounds it elicited from you unintentional and mortifying under the presence of Kao in the room.

“What... what do you want, you bastard?” Dabi laughed at that one, tweaking your clit between his fingers and conducting the most beautiful notes from your pillowy lips.

“I think It’s pretty obvious what I want, don’t you think?” Your name on his lips sent you keening against him despite the inferno roaring inches away from your skin. He couldn’t move without Dabi’s flames hovering ever closer to your heaving chest, and to Kao, you were very clearly about to die. Although you didn’t believe Dabi would hurt you, he had asked you to trust him before he got Kao’s attention, after all, the line between foreplay and conflagration was becoming blurry.

Kao backed up into the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, barely making an effort to try and hide his erection anymore, ��I’ll send you to fucking Tartarus for this, Dabi.”

“Oooo, scary,” His unlit hand trailed down your jawline, tilting you to his side until he could slide his tongue into your open lips, humming into your mouth, “What do you think, doll?

“Dabi, please... wait,“ The strength in your voice wasn’t as heated as before, and even you had to admit it sounded half-assed.

Kao’s quirk must be no good for long range because all he could do was stand there, trying to avert his eyes from your drooling cunt in favor of glaring daggers at the coy villain pulling soft mewls from your lips, “I swear... I’ll see you rot in prison for this. You’ll be fucking executed, you rapist—“

“—woah, woah, that stings, hero. Doll, is that really what I’m doin’?” You groaned, not exactly answering because you couldn’t hear the question, your eyes still shut tight in embarrassment.

The growl in his voice sent another soaking rush towards your pussy, as his hand grabbed you jaw, pulling you up, “Look at me,” Your eyes widened at the sight of Dabi so close to you, his chest warm against your back, the aches of your last orgasm fading into something new.

“Tell me to stop, princess, your call,” Time stood still as Dabi kissed a soft pathway along your neck, weirdly gentle as he listened for your response, his clothed hard-on pressed firmly against your ass.

Too flustered to speak, you merely wrenched your arm free from his grasp, carding you hand through his hair and pulling him to your desperate lips. You could feel him tug into a smirk against you as your hips eagerly ground themselves on him despite the audience.

Kao choked on his own spit, stepping backwards, but stopped when Dabi aimed his ignited hand towards the hero who was having difficulty piecing together your actions in his head. “What,” His voice cracked when he called out your name, “are you...?”

Dabi pulled away, a feral glint in the blue hidden beneath his hair as he licked a disgustingly wet stripe along your cheek, chest rumbling behind you as you squirmed at the gross feeling, “I’m still gonna need you to beg, sweetheart.”

Your dignity was hanging by a thread, hinging on whether or not you followed his lead, but the insane buzz your anxiety had stirred up under Kao’s confused stare and Dabi’s aching cock was impossible to ignore. He rut himself into the dripping curve of your ass, his jeans soaked with your slick as you found the courage to speak.

“Fuh...” Carefully, Dabi pressed a loving kiss to your temple, his stare fixated on Kao’s as you strung the syllables together, “Fuck me, Dabi,”

The hero couldn’t believe his ears. She’d turned him down countless times despite his pursuits, yet she was somehow fine with this? Kao briefly thought that perhaps his crush was a villain this whole time, but that couldn’t make sense with her weak quirk.

You felt Dabi twitch beneath you, the shameless way you showed yourself off was as humiliating as it was hot, and he laughed in lightheaded disbelief against the back of your neck, taking your ass in one hand and slipping the other down his pants, tugging off the painful metal zipper until his boxers were pulled down just enough for his cock to finally be met with the soft warmth of your cunt.

“As the lady commands,” Dabi grinned, reaching around your waist to take his pierced dick in his hand, rubbing and tapping his swollen head deliberately against your clit, pre-cum drenching your pussy as you felt boneless in his arms.

“Ah-! St..S-top tea-sing, Dabi!” You babbled, squirming to try and find an escape from his grasp or maybe trying to force him inside you, but all your struggling did was make him harder. But before you could beg, you froze at the sight of Kao a few feet away, his legs bending into a sprinter’s pose. He was going to run?

Dabi was having none of it, a controlled jet of flame grazing Kao’s knee, scalding the skin beneath the latex. The hero cried out into the bite of his fist, collapsing into the wall a few feet away.

“Nah, hero. You’re not leaving just yet,” The villain rearranged you on his lap, “See, the thought of you jerking off to my girl? It kinda pisses me off, actually,”

The color in Kao’s face drained as he had no choice but to sit and watch as Dabi slowly sunk you down on top of him, one hand drawing soft circles into your stomach as you reveled in the feeling of his piercings hot against every part of you.

“Though, I’m wondering, what did you think about, huh?” Kao sputtered, unable to form words just like you, formless noises falling from your lips.

His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, raising you up only to shove you back onto his cock, the flames that still extended to threaten Kao suddenly flared up in time with his thrusts, the weight of him felt so much deeper at this angle and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

“I... nothing! I didn’t—“ Another whip of fire cut through the room from Dabi’s fingertips, a cast of blue leaving bubbling skin in its wake, pain flashing across Kao’s face.

“Fuckin’ liar,” You yelped as Dabi shoved you down, moaning into your ear as you squeezed against him, sobbing his name into his chest as he picked up a steady pace in your guts.

Kao cried out, stuttering and gripping along the inflamed line of skin, “I-I thought— thought about her... fuck— I just wanted her to suck me off, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”

He must’ve realized the mistake in his words as soon as he said them, squeezing your eyes shut but having no choice but to smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the sound of muffled screaming as it filled your apartment, “Can’t blame you though, her mouth is God,”

Your hands scrambled for balance against Dabi as the screaming of his victim made him downright feral, filling your tight heat so well it had you crying.

“Damn, you’re soaked for me, doll, I just knew you were a kinky fuck deep down. You’re a slutty little girl for me, aren’t ya?”

As much as it hurt to admit it, he was right. He was painfully right, and you told him so. The unhinged, unstoppable force that was Dabi ignited a passion in you that’d never been fed before. He was torturing the hero you hated all while taking your cunt in deep, harsh thrusts, the metal imbedded into his cock and his chest behind you were blisteringly hot against your skin.

“Tell him, baby,” His question fell on deaf ears, your tongue lolling from your mouth a bit at the pleasure.

It caught you off guard when he drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, a blistering red handprint in its wake, saying your name so softly, turning off his quirk to run his hands through your hair, he whispered, “Tell that fucking hero who you belong to,”

The world tipped over as Dabi gripped your shoulders, pushing you onto the wooden coffee table so your ass stuck in the air. In an instant he was on you again, pounding into your cunt with a glazed fervor, your words downright biblical in his ears.

“On-ly... Dabi ca—Ngh, Only Dabi can fuck me this good,” You forced the words from your throat, thankful for the table serving as an impartial shoulder to cry on as Dabi lined himself up with your cunt.

“More, princess,” The snap of his hips had you drooling onto the table, catching sight of Kao’s slumped body in the corner as Dabi’s breath sounded much louder than before.

“Fuck, baby—” You cried, craning your neck back to look at him. Sweat glistened at the crown of his dark hair, steam shading his breath as he took you hard, “Your cock is— shit its so deep in me,”

Your nerves were spent from exhaustion as he railed you, being more vocal than before as he choked at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his fingernails digging future bruises into your hip dips, “Wanna feel you cum in me, want you to fill me up— Dabi, wanna make you feel good,”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t...” He ground his teeth together, making you squeal as he mounted you from behind, spreading your legs out wide so you had no way to hide yourself, “Gonna fuck’n cum-gonna cum in you- fuck, fuck, fuck—!“

You both hit your highs at the same time, Dabi accidentally digging your face into the wood as he held you as tightly to him as possible, his cum running hot due to his quirk as he pumped you full, that broken cry of yours like music to his ears, humping you a few times to ride out his climax.

You felt warm and safe, Dabi’s weight a comfortable blanket even with your shivering skin pressed naked into the coffee table. However, the quietly groaning hero in the corner made you quickly come back down to earth.

“Dabi... did you kill him?” Your voice was small beneath him, but he just shrugged.

“Nah, not yet, don’t worry,” He kissed your neck one more time, his thumb rubbing circles into your indented stomach, pulling you off the table and back into his arms.

He pulled out of you and grinned at the sight of his release spilling down your thighs, “Damn...” he whispered, taking in the sight with a satisfied whistle, “C’mon Doll, forget about him.”

You were grateful he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, your legs gelatin at this point, and as he laid you down to rest he grabbed one of your discarded shirts that hadn’t made it to the hamper and wiped down the remains of sex from your twitching cunt before leaving the cum-stained top ignored on the ground.

“You doing good, baby? Didn’t go too hard, did I?” His concern was diminished somewhat by the grin on his face, satisfied with the mumbling, love-drunk form he’d reduced you to.

Shaking your head, you burrowed into the warm blankets, peeking your eyes out from beyond the covers in a way that even Dabi couldn’t deny was pretty cute, “No, just... what are you gonna do with Kao?”

His face was unreadable as he leaned closer, “Do you really want to know?”

Truth be told, no, you didn’t, you were just a civilian, far removed from the complex fight between heroes and villains. You were only in this situation because you’d grown to care about Dabi. In some small, sarcastic way, he’d wormed his way into your life, and he hadn’t hurt you so far, only going as close as possible to bring you over the edge again and again.

“No...”

“Good answer,” he stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went back into the living room. You heard a muffled thud and what sounded like Dabi cursing before he reappeared in your bedroom, Kao’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. For such a wiry guy, Dabi was pretty strong. Moving to the open window he basically threw Kao’s body onto the outside metal grating, his lungs uneven after carrying him.

Just as he swung his leg onto the windowsill you shot up in your bed, hand outstretched, “Wait!”

He turned back to look at you, genuinely confused as to what you could want.

“Kiss me before you go?”

He froze, then grinned, scoffing at the innocent gesture you gave so openly to a murderer like him. There had to be something wrong with his little villain-in-training to make her okay with it, just like him. Dabi ignored that thought for another day, striding forward and finally giving you the goodbye kiss you’d been denied last time, his tongue trying to map out every detail in case he could ever forget before pulling away with a warm softness to his ocean eyes.

“I think I might be starting to like you, Doll,” A feint rush of color fell on his unmarred skin and you’re sure your heart stopped beating for a good three seconds.

His words were a worn record being played over and over in your head long after he crawled down your fire escape, the teasing, sated haze in his voice hidden beneath a rasp of smoke. You weren’t sure how much he meant what he said, but you’re sure that the first thing you said in return was exactly what he wanted to hear; at least judging from the boyish smile that lit up his face when you said it.

“Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay,”

@effmigentlywithachainsaw @touyasfatcock @thicchaikyuuboys @awritersometimes @chey-the-simp

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x reader smut #dubcon #murder #mha #my hero academia #dabi smut #touya x reader #touya todoroki

[badfvith]

get the camera | fred weasley

Request: can i request a fred x lupin!reader where fred goes to meet remus and sirius to see that he’s a good boyfriend towards the reader and maybe remus and sirius catch fred and the reader taking a nap and cuddling? x

A/N: i am in love with a good daughter of the marauders reader so this was so fun to write 🥺also i made this take place during their 6th year but i kind of ignored the whole “sirius is dead” and “wizarding war” thing for the plot bc like ive said before, im a sucker for some fluff. anyways i hope you like it!!! 💓

warnings: none! this is teeth rotting cotton candy sunshine & rainbows style fluff

word count: 1206

“Are you nervous Freddie?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that love.” He smiled as the two of you made your way up to the door of 12 Grimmauld Place. “You’ve been talking about this night for weeks.” 

You sighed. “I know I know...I’m obviously not worried about you it’s..them. They can be quite..childish together sometimes.” 

Fred stopped walking and hopped in front of you, catching you off guard. He grabbed your gloved hands in his. “Darling you do remember who you’re dating right? I believe childish is my middle name.” He said, causing you to let out a small smile. 

“Look at me.” He continued. Your gaze shifted from the snowy ground beneath your feet to your beautiful boyfriend. His ginger hair was tucked messily underneath a hat you were sure Molly had knitted him, and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. “I’m not gonna run off when they start displaying your horrendously embarrassing baby photos.” He joked. You lightly punched him in the stomach at the comment, causing him to laugh even harder. “I’m all in with you. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” 

You gave him an emotional smile back. “Kiss me.” 

“Gladly.” He smirked as he leaned down to press a sweet but firm kiss to your lips. 

You pulled away when it actually registered that the two of you were in the middle of the sidewalk during a snowfall making out. “Alright. Let’s go.” You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the staircase.

The door was unlocked when you turned the handle, your dad and his best friend obviously awaiting your arrival. 

The long hallway was empty when you entered and the two of you began to take off your coats and many other winter layers you were sporting. “Dad?” You called out, signaling your arrival. 

A few seconds later two familiar faces popped out of the kitchen and suddenly the house was full of life. 

“There’s my girl!” Lupin smiled, pulling you in for a hug. As the two of you embraced, Fred hung up your coats. “And Mr. Weasley. Long time no see.” He continued. 

“Good to see you again Professor.” Fred smiled, referencing the fact that your dad was indeed both of your defense against the dark arts professor a few years prior, before the two of you started dating. 

“Ah come now Fred there’s no need for that. Call me Remus.” He chuckled. 

“I don’t suppose you’re going to call me Professor too?” Sirius piped up, causing you to burst out laughing. 

“Sirius the only thing you’re professional at is not cleaning up after yourself. Every time I come over I end up having to do your dishes.” Remus replied. 

“All the more reason to keep inviting him over huh?” Sirius said and all of you laughed. He finally looked over at you with open arms. “(y/n). Come here sweetheart.” You went over to hug him while Fred and Remus began making their way to the kitchen. 

“So he’s treating you right then?” Sirius asked after a moment. 

“Better than I could possibly put into words.” You beamed. 

“Good.” 

The two of you then joined your dad and boyfriend in the kitchen, where Remus was fixing dinner. You all fell into easy conversation, and of course it took the turn you were absolutely dreading when Remus pulled out a worn out album you knew you to be filled with photos of you from your childhood. 

“Oh Merlin...” You groaned and banged your head dramatically against the cabinet you were standing in front of. Fred was getting far too much enjoyment from this and you wished you had Harry’s invisibility cloak right about then. 

“Now this. This might just be the greatest photo in existence love.” Fred stated a few minutes later. Your eyes shot open when you saw him holding up a photo of you flopped over on the ground crying and looking miserable. 

“IS IT DINNER TIME YET?” You yelled over the three others in the kitchen laughing hysterically at your tantrum that was so wonderfully captured in the form of a moving image.

“Almost.” Your dad said when he finally caught his breath. “Sirius can I trust you and maybe Fred to get the dishes? I want to talk to (y/n) for a minute.” 

“Go ahead. We won’t burn the house down right Weasley?” Sirius asked. 

“Definitely not. We’re very trustworthy.” Fred laughed. You smiled at his playfulness before you followed your dad into the living room. 

“What’s up?” You asked and sat down on the couch. 

“You remember how nervous I was when you told me you both were together?”

“Of course. Though I knew you’d be nervous about anyone I ever started dating.” You laughed. 

Remus smiled and reached out to grab your hand. “Well I just want you to know that I’m not nervous anymore. He’s great.” 

A smile made its way across your entire face at his words. “Thank you.” You whispered. “I always told you he’s the best.” 

“You did.” He nodded. “Just be careful of losing him to that one though...” He nodded in the direction of the kitchen so you knew he was talking about Sirius. “Them two have the same ridiculous sense of humor.” 

You laughed at his statement. “Yeah I’ll watch out for that.” 

The two of you wrapped up your conversation and made your way to the dining room. The utensils were definitely not in the correct spots and none of the dishes matched, but no one seemed to mind at all because luckily the house was still standing. 

After dinner was over, you and Fred made your way to the couch while your dad and Sirius were cleaning up. 

He sat down on the corner cushion and you curled up next to him, summoning the blanket draped on the chair next to you onto your lap using “accio.” Your head was on Fred’s chest as he gently stroked your hair. 

“They love you.” You said quietly after a few minutes. 

“Well that’s good isn’t it? Because they also love you and given the choice I have a feeling they'd choose you over me.” 

You laughed. “Stop it! I really think Sirius might like you more than me.” 

Fred laughed this time and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. You yawned and felt your eyes begin to close the longer you stayed in this position. You’ve never felt more content than in this moment, in the arms of the best boyfriend in the world, under the roof of the best almost-dad and real dad in the world. 

~

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up slightly after hearing some shuffling around you, but it must have been late because it was completely dark outside now. The only light came from a lamp on the other side of the room. You felt the steady rise and fall of Fred’s chest underneath your head, signifying that he was sleeping as well. 

You were in and out of sleepy consciousness for the next few minutes but you were awake enough to process a few sentences. 

“Sirius! Get the camera. This one’s going in the album.” 

tags:

@tinylumpiaa​ @kashishwrites @lateautumn @asksiriusblacvk​ 

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #lupin!reader #remus lupin daughter imagine #sirius black daughter imagine #remus lupin daughter #fred x lupin!reader #fred x lupin reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine requests #harry potter #harry potter imagine request #weasley imagine #weasley twins

[waitimcomingtoo]

touch

chapter three: contact

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: you love him, but you can never touch him

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Peter found you brushing your teeth in the bathroom that connected your rooms. He wordlessly got out his toothbrush and starting brushing his own teeth at the other sink. You looked at him in the mirror before spitting and drying you face. As you were putting your toothpaste back in the drawer, you accidentally closed it on your finger.

“Ouch.” You jumped as you yanked your finger back, inspecting it for broken skin. It wasn’t injured, just throbbing. You looked at Peter out of the corner of your eye before touching his arm with the throbbing finger and sending the pain into him.

“Ow.” Peter jumped a little and looked at you in confusion.

“I thought you wanted me to touch you.” You replied sarcastically to prove a point.

“Is this a joke to you?” Peter asked bitterly as he glared at you.

“Joking is the only way I can deal with this.” You answered honestly.

“We don’t have to deal with this. We could just be together.” He said solemnly as he put his toothbrush away. You looked at Peter in the mirror and sighed sadly.

“It’s too big of a risk, Peter.” You frowned. “I love you too much to put you through that.”

“And I love you too much to accept this ending.” He stated as he turned to look at you.

“You think I want this?” You laughed sadly as you stepped up to him. “You think I don’t want to kiss you whenever I want? Or hold your hand? I want all of that. But I can’t have it. I can’t risk it.”

“So because you might hurt me, we can’t be together?” He asked. “It’s not like you ever hurt me before.”

“But I’ve hurt other people before.” You said gravely, coming as a surprise to Peter.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked as he saw a sadness cloud your eyes. You looked down for a minute and sighed before shrugging and folding your arms.

“I had a best friend when I was younger. We were just like you and I. We spent every day together but I didn’t touch her because of what I could do. I was so careful.” Your voice cracked as you shook your head. “I tried so hard to keep her safe.”

“What happened?” Peter began to worry when he saw how worked up you were getting.

“She had a peanut allergy that I didn’t know about. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she didn’t know about. She ran up to me at recess and hugged me and-“ You sucked in a breath as tears streamed down your face. Peter looked at you with sympathy and put his hand as close to yours as he could without touching it.

“She died, Peter.” You whispered. “I killed her.”

“You didn’t know.” Peter tried to comfort you.

“Exactly.” You cried. “But I do now, and I can never make that mistake again.”

All at once, Peter understood why you were so hellbent on not touching. You were traumatized, and you didn’t want to repeat history. Peter took a step towards you and hovered over you, giving you the impression he was going to kiss you.

“Peter, don’t.” You said softly.

“I’m not gonna touch you.” He said. “I just want to tell you that I understand.”

“You do?” You asked hopefully.

“I hate it.” Peter admitted. “I hate that it has to be this way. But I understand.”

You stared at him for a moment before smilingly softly in appreciation. You picked up piece of paper off the counter and kissed it before tucking it into Peter’s pajama pocket.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you, peaches. You didn’t deserve that.” Peter apologized as he held his hand over his pocket.

“It’s okay. I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did. I was hurting too.”

“So do we just go back to being friends? Friends who are in love?” Peter laughed sadly.

“Unless you want to be in a relationship where we never touch each other.” You laughed, equally as sad. Peter chuckled softly before making a face.

“I mean…” He looked at you shyly and shrugged a little.

“You’d actually want to do that?” You asked curiously.

“I would.” He confirmed. “I’d rather be limited with you than unlimited with anyone else.”

“Okay.” You nodded eagerly. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Peter sighed in relief and leaned down, lips almost touching yours but not quite.

“I love you, peaches.” He whispered, lips grazing yours as he spoke. You sucked in a sharp breath, inhaling him and his scent.

“I love you too, Peter.”

~

Peter was working on mission plans for Tony the following week when he got a text from you.

“Meet me in the lab.”

His eyebrows knit in a straight line as he set his pen down. He quickly made his way to the lab and found you inside, holding something behind your back.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you as he walked into the lab.

“Hey.” You smiled back. “I um, I made something. Well, actually, Dr. Banner made most of it but I gave him the idea.”

“What is it?” Peter wondered as you took a small, silver device out from behind your back.

“Its um, it’s a stun ray.” You laughed nervously. “It stuns you and temporarily takes away your powers.”

“What are you planning on doing with it?” Peter asked curiously. You picked up the gun, shrugged, and shot yourself in the chest. Peter immediately rushed to you to see if you were hurt.

“Are you okay?” He asked once he got to you.

“Uh huh.” You said through a smile before pulling him into a kiss. Peter’s eyes widened before fluttering shut as his arms enclosed around your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your torso, kissing you with everything he had. You ran your fingers through his hair before letting them rest on his face, kissing him deeply to make up for all the time you had lost. Peter only pulled away when he couldn’t breathe, resting his forehead against yours as he panted. Tears of joy slipped down his cheeks, making him take your face in his hands and kiss your forehead.

“Does it last forever?” He whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, keeping his arms securely around your waist.

“20 minutes.” You said as you rubbed his chest. Peter nodded before leaning down and kissing you again, just as passionately as before. He pulled away suddenly and held you back from him.

“Wait. As much as I want to kiss you, and I do, I really just wanna…” Unable to find the words to say, Peter trailed off and pulled you into a hug. He held you tightly and rested his chin on the top of your head, swaying softly back and forth as he rubbed your back. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his chest, taking in his scent in a way you never could before. You felt so close to him that you could cry, griping his shirt to pull him even tighter.

“I love you, Peter.” You mumbled in his ear.

“I love you too, Peaches.” He said back before pulling out of the hug. “Hold my hand, please.”

He held up his hand in the way he did that one day in the kitchen and this time, you interlocked your fingers with his. He held up his other hand and you did the same, hands clasped tightly around each other’s.

“This is nice.” Peter laughed softly. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

“I know.” You nodded. “I wanted this too.”

“You’re so beautiful.” Peter sighed as he took your face between his hands again and rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. He let his hands trail down your arms before taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. “Beautiful, beautiful Angel.”

You smiled with joy as your touched his face, memorizing the features under your fingertips.

“Your skin is so smooth. And your hair.” You gushed as you have it a tug. “So soft.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Peter chuckled, leaning in to your touch the way he always wanted and placing a kiss on your palm.

“I love it.” You told him as your carded your fingers through his curls.

“How often can we do this?” Peter asked as he drummed his fingers on your waist. “How often can you use the stun gun?”

“Dr. Banner said it’s only safe to use once a day.” You frowned slightly, but Peter lit up in a smile.

“I get to touch you everyday?” He asked hopefully as he took your hands in his.

“For 20 minutes, yeah.” You nodded, smiling as well now.

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Peter sighed happily before kissing you again. “How much longer do we have?”

“Seven minutes.” You told him as you checked your phone.

“Dance with me?” He requested as he assumed waltzing position. You smiled softly and nodded as you began to sway back and forth to music that wasn’t playing. Peter rested his head on your shoulder after a minute as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow dance.

“I like this dance much better than the one we used to do.” You mumbled against his neck before placing a kiss there.

“I know, Peaches.” Peter sighed in content. “Me too.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @fancyxparker @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterspideysstuff @reemusluupin @perspectiveparker @itsemohours @satanswitchings @okkulta  @parkerlovebot @sarcasticallywitty15 @mati4188 @geminiparkers @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland 

@thebloodrobin @florencxs @hermayone  @patricks-fabulous-face @tom-holland-is-bae @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland @captainmarvelnerd @f-hollands​ @ilovefrogs1000​ @catkeeperthetall​ @itstaskeen​

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x avenger!reader

[loving-all-for-loki]

Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

-

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader one shot #loki one shot #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #lovingallforloki #themoonandherdarkness

[katsukisprincess-archive]

kinktober day one: dry humping with bakugou

a/n: AHHH IT’S HERE! this is my second year doing kinktober and i am so fucking incredibly excited for it. this was the month that brought me so many new friends and caused me to read SO many amazing fics and i can only imagine how well this year will go. i’m a wee bit nervous as it’s my first time writing in a long while and definitely my first time writing bakugou in months- let me know what you think! <3 

warnings: dry humping, dirty talk, spitting, hair pulling, choking

tags: @nobody0805​ @dabilove27 @bakugotrashpanda @tomurasprincess @fae-father @xeina @shigarakiisking @engel-hageshii @luxivii @bnhathirstreblogs @babayaga67 @tigerseye375 @kingtamakimurder @keopiis @iambashfulperson @buttressflybarnes @sunsetchan @thehalfdemonicangel @raekah @aupheliathedk @pozhdukem @rinsbigcock @jungkookcankickme @endeavorsimpstuff @irvingka @trafalgar-temptress @keilemlucent​ @imbearlythere @qtgothics @leeswritingworld @briswriting​ @lilacgrave​ @txmxkis​ 

Working alongside Bakugou Katsuki was… manageable. 

Most days, it was fine. You were an adult with your own life, your own career, even your own set of ear plugs for those days when the wall separating your offices was just not thick enough. You were both hired in at the same time, so unfortunately for you, you spent plenty of time alongside the blonde doing paperwork, training exercises, even first missions. While his quirk was strong, yours was just as. 

Since there was no difference of power in the slightest, there was plenty of competition. Small training gigs, time in the gym, even things like who was carrying the most debris after a wreck became extravagant deals that neither of you would ease up on. 

At first, everything about him annoyed you. You didn’t go to school with Bakugou, so you didn’t grow up with a tolerance to him unlike the redhead that visited the agency once in a while. Your first impression was disgust, and while that still stuck, you found yourself eerily fond of the attention. 

“Keep your eyes to yourself, firecracker.” You would tell him as you sauntered down the hallway, making a show of the simple task of walking into the conference room. He would grunt, still not taking his eyes off of you, until the name registered in his head. His yells and approaching footsteps were drowned out well enough as you shut the heavy wooden door and paid attention to the task in front of you. 

Press conferences were not your thing. Even worse, they weren’t Bakugou’s thing, meaning you stood huddled together in front of a microphone while the more extroverted members of your agency filled the reporters in on what was happening with the latest mission and things of the sort. Eyes on the crowd, straight face for the cameras. That was all that mattered. 

Bakugou normally stood on the opposite side of you, not making eye contact with you once. It was so straightforward that you wondered if he watched back on the tapes and counted to see who blinks more in the time span of the conversation. Just the thought made you snort.

“What’s so funny, huh?” 

The gruff voice behind you nearly made you jump out of your skin. You were so focused on the reporters setting up their cameras that you failed to notice the fact that Bakugou was right behind you. 

“Need to be so close?” You muttered over your shoulder, hoping he didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you momentarily spooked. When you cast your eyes to the right, near the podium, you were reminded of just how many heroes were working this last mission with you. Bakugou had no choice but to stand right behind you. Before you could complain further, the conference started.

You weren’t sure whether it was because of the man behind you or the blinding lights in front of you, but as soon as the voices rose, you found it hard to breathe. The lights were so warm, immediately washing over you like a tide and causing you to fight to keep your eyes open. The thoughts you were trying so hard to keep buried in your head, the ones that usually began with Bakugou so close to you like this, were reaching dangerous shallows with every hot breath down the back of your neck. 

“Do I make you nervous?” 

If you weren’t zoned out from the event, you wouldn’t have heard it. Gruff, low as ever, but still laced with enough interest to raise goosebumps to your skin. You froze, just for a moment, before shaking your head. You were lying.

He could tell.

One step in front of him had Bakugou’s entire body aligned with the back of yours. He was considerably taller than you, wider also, causing you to wonder what it would feel like if he put his large arms around you. From the crowd this didn’t look out of the ordinary at all- he was just standing behind you like he was thirty seconds prior. 

Prior, though, you weren’t feeling the way you were feeling now. Your breath staggered out of your mouth as you remembered your need for oxygen, and at your nervous movement, you felt Bakugou’s chest swell against the top of your shoulder blades. Whether this made him proud or nervous in return, you’d never know. 

The thought of pride racing through him had you feeling weak. With your mind flipping through the ridiculously thick stack of memories where you two would attempt to one-up each other, you knew you couldn’t let this moment slip you by either. If he was going to play, you weren’t going to sit on the sidelines. 

Thankful for the heels you were wearing, one push to your tiptoes gave you the perfect height to brush your ass up and against him. It just looked like you were adjusting your stance to the crowd, but it was so much worse to the blonde who sucked in his breath sharply in response. The fact that he was already hard, and so fucking massive against you, had your head spinning and knees weak. If you were questioning before how he felt, his racing heart against your back had the facts clear. 

Lowering yourself down onto your heels, you tried to move back to your original position in case anyone around you was catching on. You didn’t get far, though, as one large hand found its way to your hip and pulled you back to where he was needing you most. Ensuring he didn’t move too quickly just in case, Bakugou began rocking his body forward, little digs against your ass filling the time for the rest of the conference.

“My office.” 

***

The contents of Bakugou’s desk were on the floor before the door was even closed behind you. He looked good in a suit, you were finally able to see, but you had to admit that the straining bulge in his pants was your favorite part. 

With the door locked and your ears ringing, you didn’t have a chance to open your mouth before Bakugou was turning you around and shoving you so you were bent over his desk. 

The air in his office was much cooler than the heat of the lights, so when he pulled your dress above your ass and laid a sharp slap to your cheek, it rang through your body like ice. You were finally able to call out in pleasure now that you were alone, and the sound went straight to Bakugou’s cock. 

You didn’t dare lift your body off the desk, instead you laid there and listened to the sound of his belt unbuckling and his pants falling to the floor. When his body collided with yours again, his clothed cock lined up along your panties, which were thoroughly soaked from the antics in the conference room. His length stretched from your clit to the top of the line of your ass, and it was so hard you were convinced you would be able to cum just from the little humps he began doing against your center. 

“Feel how fucking hard you made me in there?” Bakugou growled in your ear, one hand tangling through your hair to get a grip as he yanked your head back and off of the desk. “Is that what you wanted? All you fucking do--” He paused to let out a grunt as he rolled his hips especially hard against you. “--Is try to be better than me.” 

“Maybe I am.” 

Your words, although breathy and higher pitched than normal, were enough to make him flip you over onto your back, slide your legs onto his shoulders, and push you down against the cold wood surface. His cock lined with your center again as his hand found home wrapped around your neck. “Like fucking hell, princess.” 

His boxers were stained by your wetness, and with every thrust forward his rock hard tip pulled against your clit. It was hot again, your breath mingling with his and sweat droplets forming on your bodies. He was moving so intensely, you were unable to peel your eyes away from where he was grinding down against you. When he was sick of not having eye contact, Bakugou growled, releasing your neck to grab at your cheeks with one hand and force you to look at him. Your mouth fell open into a pretty O, and he took the opportunity to spit into it.

“So damn wet.” He grunted, his cock twitching against you as he watched you attempt to swallow with your mouth still held open. “I should have fucked you into this desk a long fucking time ago.” 

“Then fuck me, please~” Your whines rang off the walls like a melody, everything he had been dreaming about as he would fist his cock under his desk. All it took was one look, one glance from you during the day and he was dreaming about tearing you apart with your hero costume. You wanted him to fuck you, moreso than you had ever wanted anyone, but your cunt deceived you as it tossed you into the heaviest orgasm you had experienced in years. 

The sight in front of Bakugou was art. Your mouth widening, drool dripping down your cheek; your hair was tangled from his pulling and your eyes were rolling back into your head as he felt your pussy convulse against his throbbing cock. He barely had time to hold on himself, but he waited until you were falling down from your cloud before dropping your legs and gripping your hair by your scalp, his other hand freeing his member so he could jack off onto your face. 

A mixture of pain from his grip and pleasure from your orgasm had tears running down your cheeks, but it soon decreased as his hold moved from your head to the edge of his desk. He was leaning over you completely at this point, your continuous whimpers, moans, and whined encouragement helping him to release his load all over your face, into your hair, against your tongue. You heard a loud snap, but you weren’t able to open your eyes and see what it was. 

When Bakugou crashed onto the desk next to you, you wondered silently if your head was ever going to come back down to earth. Everything you had experienced, even if it was all maybe less than an hour, had made for the start of what you hoped was a very interesting relationship. 

Finally peeling yourself off of the desk, you gasped when you turned around to see a large chunk of wood missing from the surface. Your bewildered eyes made contact with the blonde next to you, who held your gaze for a moment before letting out one loud bark of a laugh.

That laugh was enough to fuel you for days.  

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kinktober #bnha #mha #tw: spitting #tw: choking #tw: hair pulling

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 8

A/N: hello i have returned!! this chapter was weirdly difficult for me to write, but from here on out i think the writing will go much smoother! but unfortunately i do have classes to be worrying about soon, so who knows how much time i will have to write. but still!! very excited about this fic and how you guys will react to upcoming events >:) (plus i added some implied nature wives (katherine and shelby) to this bit so this fic is basically turning into me making empires smp gayer) also check out this stunning art of chapter 5 by @artanogon! and if you wanna make art of this fic, you absolutely can, just be sure to tag me so i can see it!

Warnings: depression of the heartbreak variety, past violence

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

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Jimmy was trying his hardest to not be mopey as he helped Katherine with rebuilding. He knew that he had promised that he would help her- but his own confusing feelings about Scott, his lack of building know-how, and the dejected look Katherine had as she looked at the slight crater where her castle used to be had Jimmy feeling far out of his league. But he put on a brave face- he needed the distraction, after all.

They began with filling in the crater, mostly silent as they moved dirt over with their shovels. Then once the ground was level, they could begin with setting up the framework of the castle. They spoke more to each other then- but it was mostly Katherine telling Jimmy where to put the support beams. Jimmy wanted to say something, anything to break the tension and melancholy air- but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Katherine that didn’t lead back to the tragedies they had experienced. Jimmy wished that Joel or Lizzie were there- but they were off gathering more materials for Katherine’s castle, and probably wouldn’t return until nightfall. So until then, it was just Jimmy and Katherine, silently stewing in their respective sadnesses.

Luckily- or maybe unluckily- someone much more chipper than either of them came along. Jimmy almost didn’t recognize her at first- but quickly realized that the figure approaching them was the mushroom gnome queen, Shrub. Or Shelby-she had said they could call her that too. She was dressed far more casually than she had been at the ball, a polka-dotted red kerchief tied over her head, brown overalls over a green shirt, and red boots with white polka dots. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and Jimmy could see the tops of mushrooms peeking out of it.

“Um- hello! I- I wanted to offer some gifts from the Undergrove, maybe they could help with rebuilding! Or they could just look pretty- or just be a peace offering- or a gift of sympathy for what happened,” Shelby rambled, seeming just as skittish as she had at the ball, but was less afraid and more excited. Katherine set down the beam she was holding, and gave Shelby a small smile.

“The gift is much appreciated, thank you. It was nice of you to stop by- I apologize for the appearance of the Overgrown. Usually it’s prettier here,” Katherine said, looking over her lands for a brief moment before focusing back on Shelby.

“Oh! Well, what I saw of it at the ball, your empire is lovely! I’m sure it will be back to its former glory soon… if you’d like, I can help! I’m good with plants and I’m not a bad builder!” Shelby offered with an encouraging smile. Katherine practically glowed at the praise of her empire, and smiled back.

“I’d love to have your help- it’s just been me and Jimmy working all day, and most of our time was spent filling in the crater. Some extra hands would definitely help things go faster,” Katherine replied, gesturing at the land around her. Shelby beamed back at her, setting down her bag of mushrooms.

“Then I’m more than happy to help! We gnomes are small but mighty, just tell me where to lug these beams around and I’ll do it!” she chirped. Katherine blinked in slight surprise at her eagerness, but looked over to the stack of beams beside them.

“Well, there is one that needs to go across those two over here for the entrance. If you’re as strong as you say, then maybe you can help Jimmy with getting it up there- I’ll set some scaffolding up so you guys can reach it,” Katherine explained, going over to where two beams were upright and doing just that. Jimmy watched her set up the scaffolding for a moment, until he felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned and looked down to Shelby, who quickly looked away once she realized she had been caught staring.

“Is everything okay? You seem jumpy,” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Shelby chuckled nervously.

“Oh. Well- you see, gnomes can’t swim. And I’m kind of afraid of the water and water related things because of it. But you and the ocean lady seem like really nice people! So… sorry for being jumpy. It’s a habit,” she admitted sheepishly. Jimmy let out a good-natured laugh.

“I mean you’re right to be spooked by Lizzie, she can be scary when she wants to be- but most of the time she’s very nice! And trust me, there is not a single threatening thing about me,” Jimmy said, tone turning a bit rueful at the end of his statement. Shelby frowned.

“The guy with the goggles and his friend sure seemed to think otherwise, why else would they bother you like that?” she asked. Jimmy blinked in surprise at that.

“You… you think Fwhip and Sausage are afraid of me?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well… not afraid, but definitely threatened. I’ve seen it before, back where I came from. You’re someone who won’t bow to people easily, and people like them don’t like that,” Shelby explained with a shrug. Jimmy considered this for a moment.

“Huh. I guess… I never saw it like that before,” Jimmy said, a small smile coming to his face.

Their conversation was ended by Katherine waving them over, and Jimmy and Shelby picked up one of the beams to carry over to where the scaffolding had been set up. Shelby was surprisingly strong for her stature, and carrying around the beams and placing them where they needed to be was much easier than before she had arrived. It was less quiet with Shelby around too, as she cheerfully asked questions about their empires, as well as sharing some things about her own empire. But then there was one question that caused Jimmy’s blood to freeze in his veins.

“So you said that Joel and Lizzie were getting more building materials, but what about your partner? Is he with them too?” Shelby asked, and for a moment, Jimmy was confused.

“My… what?” he asked.

“The elf guy you were dancing with at the ball! You’re very cute together, by the way,” Shelby continued, completely oblivious to the tension in the air her statement created. However she soon noticed Jimmy’s pained expression, and it was her curious smile changed to a concerned frown.

“We uh. We were never together. And he betrayed us,” Jimmy said stiffly.

“Oh- oh I’m so sorry. You guys had just looked so happy together, I had just assumed- I’m sorry,” Shelby rambled, and Jimmy gave her a weak smile.

“It’s alright. I guess I was kinda happy- but it was never real. Not for him, at least,” Jimmy replied, throat feeling tight. He hadn’t really meant to burden all of his issues onto Shelby, but his mouth was moving a little faster than his brain was at the moment, and he couldn’t hold back his words.

“Well- well then that guy is missing out! You seem great, and he gave you up for what, tactical gain or political advantage or something?! He doesn’t deserve you!” Shelby declared, hands on her hips as she smiled up at Jimmy confidently. If someone he barely knew had so much confidence in him, then why shouldn’t he? Jimmy smiled back at Shelby.

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. Shelby gave him a half laugh, half playful scoff.

“Of course I’m right! Now c’mon, this castle isn’t gonna rebuild itself!” she chirped, heading over to the stack of beams. Jimmy could only stare after her for a moment, dumbfounded. Katherine seemed just as amazed by the gnome’s boundless positivity, a smile growing across her face.

“She’s spirited,” Katherine murmured. Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, you two are like birds of a feather,” Jimmy murmured back.

"We both are definitely nature-oriented," Katherine added with a chuckle. She looked at Shelby fondly for a moment, until her expression turned into a frown as she noticed something in the sky. Subconsciously her hand started reaching for Jimmy’s, and he took it as he looked up to the sky with her. Two figures were flying in- and the tension in Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly when he recognized them as Pearl and Gem. But he still gave Katherine’s hand a gentle squeeze all the same.

“What’s going on? Are we under attack again?!” Shelby asked anxiously, coming over to stand beside them and look up at Pearl and Gem flying in.

“Don’t know yet- they weren’t directly behind the explosion… but they are allied with the people who were,” Katherine said apprehensively. Shelby looked down from the sky, frowning in concern- and upon noticing Jimmy and Katherine’s joined hands, she grabbed Katherine’s other hand with a comforting smile. Katherine flushed slightly, but smiled back at Shelby gratefully.

“Please don’t be alarmed!” Gem shouted as she came in for a landing. Frankly, that didn’t make Jimmy feel any less alarmed.

“We aren’t allied with Fwhip and Sausage anymore. We don’t want any part of what they’re up to,” Pearl clarified, landing beside Gem.

“Really?” Jimmy asked warily. Gem looked to Jimmy with an open, pleading expression.

“I meant what I said when we told you that we didn’t know what Fwhip was up to. He left myself and Pearl completely in the dark, while Sausage and Scott were the only ones who knew about the full plan. But even then, I don’t think those two had the full picture, they looked surprised that we hadn’t known about the TNT. The point is- Pearl and I were tired of being part of an alliance that lied to us, and lied to us to hurt others! Katherine- if I had known what was going to happen, I would have never gone along with it and would have tried to put a stop to it,” Gem explained, turning her focus to Katherine as she spoke.

“So… you two are… on our side then?” Katherine asked slowly. Pearl gave her a gentle smile.

“If you’ll have us, yes. We also figured you could use our help rebuilding,” Pearl replied. Katherine looked to Jimmy, as if she was asking for his opinion. Jimmy blinked, and looked at Pearl and Gem. They seemed… candid, at least. But after Scott… Jimmy wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore besides his steady allies. However, they weren’t Scott. And furthermore, it really wasn’t his call to make. It was Katherine’s.

“It’s your empire, Katherine. If you don’t want them here, then just say the word. But you won’t get a fight from me if you do want them to help,” Jimmy said gently. Katherine smiled, and looked back to Pearl and Gem.

“I would absolutely appreciate your help. We’ve almost got all the framework for the castle set up- but having someone with wings help us out with some of the taller parts would be lovely,” Katherine said. Pearl beamed, and Gem clapped her hands excitedly. Gem came closer and Katherine let go of Shelby and Jimmy’s hands to talk over building plans with Gem, Shelby following after her and listening as well. Pearl, however, walked over to Jimmy with a mildly timid expression.

“Pearl?” Jimmy asked.

“There’s something I think you should know,” she blurted. Jimmy blinked in surprise, tilting his head to one side in confusion.

“I… okay,” Jimmy said semi-apprehensively. Pearl took a deep breath, like she was unsure of how to continue.

“Gem and I just came from a meeting with the Wither Rose Alliance. Well… it wasn’t much of a meeting, Gem and I broke off ties with the alliance pretty quickly and then left. But… there’s a… there’s something about Scott,” Pearl explained slowly. Jimmy tensed, swallowing nervously.

“Oh?” Jimmy asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Like I said, Gem and I didn’t stay long so I don’t know for sure- but there was something off about Scott. He just… didn’t seem himself. I think he was just as unhappy with Fwhip as we were with him. I… I just know he meant a lot to you. And I think you meant a lot to him too. I just… I don’t want to get your hopes up, but maybe… maybe you should give him a chance,” Pearl continued. Jimmy’s mouth fixed into a firm line.

“It’s a nice thought… but I don’t think I can trust him anymore. Not after everything that happened,” Jimmy said, throat tight as he tried not to cry. Part of him really wanted to hope that maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding, that Scott really did care about him- but Jimmy couldn’t afford that kind of hope. Pearl nodded in understanding.

“That’s fair. Like I said… just thought you should know,” she said, before walking over to join Katherine in her discussion for the build. Then Jimmy- only feeling ever so slightly useless now that Katherine had so much more help- swallowed the tears that thinking about Scott caused, and joined them.

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#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #katherine elizabeth #shubble #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #flower husbands #nature wives #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

[whelvenwings]

Castiel's grace is missing, and Dean's frustrated - instead of looking for it, all Castiel wants to do is grow his flowers. Eventually, the two of them have to talk about it.

Read it below or here on AO3! Tags: Canon Divergent, Gardener!Cas, Cas' Grace

This fic was inspired by this wonderful art by saminzat, and written as part of the @spnreverse-promptchallenge!

It’s not Heaven. It’s not even close. It’s just a garden, where Castiel is growing things.

If it were Heaven, Castiel thinks, then Dean would be looking a lot happier, those wrinkles around his eyes all eased away. If it were Heaven, there would have been a break in the clouds overhead when Dean arrived.

If it were Heaven, the peach rose would be in bloom, not straggling all green and leggy and ungainly through the picket fence that Castiel had put up to help it grow.

Castiel puts down the secateurs he’s been using to prune the forsythia, and takes off his gardening gloves. He walks over to Dean, acutely aware of the fact that he’s wearing enough sunscreen to make his skin shine, the worn-thin, oversized blue t-shirt he found at a Goodwill that says Thyme to Garden, and a very large sunhat to protect the back of his neck.

Sunburn, he reminds himself, is more uncomfortable than the growing look of mixed amusement and judgement in Dean’s eyes. Even on a cloudy day, his skin will burn if he’s outside for a long time. Something he learned the hard way after becoming human.

“I thought you were researching a case,” Castiel says to Dean as he approaches.

“Done. Thought I’d come say hi.” Dean raises an eyebrow and a half-smile at him in greeting. “So, hi.”

Castiel stops a few feet from him and tips his hat a little further back on his head, so that Dean can clearly see his face.

“Hello,” he says. Dean takes in the hat, the t-shirt, the full gardening ensemble, with one sweeping gaze.

“Looking good,” Dean says.

Castiel looks down at himself, and then solemnly back to Dean.

“Thank you,” he says, with just enough irony in his tone to get Dean to smile. Or it would have been, usually, but today Dean’s expression is sinking back into hard lines. The greyish, muted light seems to lie heavy on him, putting a coldness in his eyes.

Castiel searches his face. Just as he’s about to say something more, Dean breaks their stare, glancing around at the plants nearest him as a light breeze ruffles at them.

“They’ve grown since last time you showed me,” Dean says. He’s holding himself strangely, his fists clenched. Castiel tilts his head to one side, and then looks around with Dean at the garden.

He feels the familiar spark of happiness as he surveys his handiwork. Once, the place had been a sad little patch of chalky, lump-filled earth. Now the flowers drip off their stems like dewdrops, and the soil smells rich, and the leaves tremble their creaky little paths to follow the sun each day. Even the blossomless peach rose has strong roots.

Castiel glances back to Dean, and feels the warmth in his chest sputter out. Dean’s eyeing the plantlife with an expression that doesn’t seem impressed.

“It’s been a while since last time,” Castiel says.

“Yeah. Well, you know.” Dean looks distracted, frowning down at a squat little succulent plant. There’s something bothering him, obviously, and Castiel isn’t sure whether Dean wants to be asked about it or have it be left alone.

“You’re always welcome,” Castiel tries quietly. Dean seems to catch himself, shifting his expression to something more neutral as he turns back to Castiel.

“Yeah,” he says, not as though he particularly believes it, and – in a way that almost manages to seem genuine – not as though he particularly cares.

“You can stay,” Castiel says. “If you want. There’s plenty to do. If you’re not busy.”

Dean puts his hands into his pockets and looks around the garden again, this time with his eyes a little less sharp.

“Nah,” he says. “Nah, I don’t wanna spoil the fun.”

Spoil the fun? Castiel gives Dean a look that he hopes is eloquent, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“I dunno, man,” he says. “Anyway, it’s not really me, is it.”

He looks tired, Castiel thinks.

“Didn’t think it was you, either,” Dean adds after a half-beat. He reaches up unselfconsciously, and then seems to realise what he’s doing at the last moment, and awkwardly flicks the brim of Castiel’s hat with the back of one finger before taking a step away. “Didn’t think you’d ever go in for… you know. Whatever this is.”

Castiel can easily read that expression on Dean’s face. He’s seen it before, in other times, other places. The mixture of bravado and hurt and confusion had made sense when lives had been at stake and grand lies had been unfolding, but this – here, today, in among his roses and sunflowers, Castiel hadn’t expected it. Dean looks betrayed.

And Castiel doesn’t know what to say. He reaches up to his hat, just brushing the brim with the tips of his fingers in the same place Dean touched it.

“I need the hat,” he says. “To keep the sun off my neck.”

“Right,” Dean says. “Yeah.” He looks up at the sky, which is still an overcast grey.

“Even through clouds,” Castiel offers.

“Uh huh. Okay.”

Castiel squints at him.

“You seem angry,” he says. No more dancing around it. Predictably, Dean makes a face, as though the suggestion were ridiculous.

“Nah.”

“Dean.” Castiel fixes him with a look, and Dean shrugs.

“Whatever, man.”

“If something is wrong…” Castiel says.

“Listen, if coming out here and growing your little flowers and everything helps, then that’s fine,” he says. “It’s fine.”

There’s a but coming, and Castiel knows enough to wait for it. Dean looks aimlessly around at the burgeoning plants. His eyes trace the tangle of a buddleia, until he glances back to Castiel, who raises an eyebrow.

Dean’s front drops, the stiffness going out of his shoulders, his hands unclenching.

“But your grace, man,” he says. Castiel looks down at the ground. He should have expected this, he knew. But somehow hearing the words still takes him by surprise.

“What about it,” he says, in a tone that doesn’t really want an answer, but knows it’s going to get one.

Dean’s hands come up, palms facing out, asking a question without words at first.

“Seriously,” he manages after a moment. “What about it? It’s your grace, Cas.”

“I know,” Castiel says.

“It’s gone,” Dean says.

“I know.”

“It’s been months.”

“I…” Castiel sighs. “Yes.”

“You told me it was just gone,” Dean says, ducking his chin slightly to catch Castiel’s eyes. “Like it was no big deal. And now all you do is spend time up here, planting flowers. Not even trying to look for it. I don’t get it, man. And whenever I try to bring it up, you just say –”

“It’s taken care of,” Castiel says, at the same time as Dean mouths the words along with him, his expression exasperated with a spiderweb of hurt threaded through.

“It’s your grace.”

“I know,” Castiel says. “I know it is. But it’s taken care of, Dean. I don’t want…”

He cuts himself off before he says too much, pressing his lips together.

Dean shakes his head. Castiel can see him battling with himself, trying to decide whether he wants to push harder. Castiel keeps his face neutral, hoping Dean will drop it.

“Don’t want what?” Dean says, though, and Castiel feels his heart sink. “You’re human, now. And you’re stuck that way until you get your grace back, but you won’t even…” Dean seems to run out of words. Castiel tries to think of something to say to divert the conversation, take them down a different track.

“I’m doing better at shaving,” he says. “And I’ve learned not to brush my teeth before drinking orange juice.”

Castiel can see the slight smile on Dean’s face, but it’s almost completely buried under the worry and the anger.

“Right,” Dean says.

“Dean…”

“I just don’t get it. The grace… if it’s lost, I can help with that. If it’s destroyed, I can try to help too, or… we’ll figure something out. Or if it’s safe, why won’t you tell me what happened with it?” The strain in Dean’s voice tells Castiel that they’re at the heart of it now, at the reason for the tight shoulders and the clipped answers and the judgemental eyes on his catmint and cosmos. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

Castiel stares at him helplessly. The answers are in the back of his throat, ready to be said, but he can’t open his mouth – can’t get them out. He feels his heart thudding, his human heart. He doesn’t know if he likes that feeling, if he wants it – perhaps not, no more than he wants sunburn, or the taste of orange juice after toothpaste, or blood on his palms when he catches himself on that peach rose’s thorns.

But there’s something he does want. And any chance at – at that – any chance at all, it’s worth the weight of being human. He made a choice and he knows he’d make it, the same one, over and over again.

He thinks it all, but he can’t say it. Dean watches him, angry and confused. Overhead, the clouds lumber their heavy bellies across the sky.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Dean says. Castiel looks away, and Dean takes a step closer. “Cas,” he says. “I swear to god.”

Castiel looks up at him, knowing his own tiredness is right there to be seen on his face – and his sadness, his hurt. Dean’s expression shifts, and he comes even closer.

“What did you do, man? Is it that bad?”

It’s easy to see Dean’s mind working, trying to piece everything together. He’s probably thinking demons, and deals, and treachery, all the things that they’ve been through before. Castiel doesn’t know how to explain to him that he’s wrong without telling him the whole truth. And he can’t tell the whole truth.

“Look,” Dean says, “we’ll figure it out. If you just tell me – tell me where it is, or what happened. Did someone do this? And what… what does all of this have to do with it…” He looks around again at the garden. Castiel closes his eyes for a second, lets the familiar feeling of being here fill him as much as he can let it – the warmth in his chest, the spark.

He knows he should try to talk about it, but he can’t. He can’t.

When he opens his eyes, Dean’s waiting, watching him. Castiel opens his mouth – but nothing comes out.

Dean’s face tightens again.

“Okay,” he says. “So it’s like that. Great, Cas.”

“Dean, it’s –”

“No, it’s fine,” Dean says, his tone taut with bitterness, but his face carefully unbothered. “That’s fine. Deal with it by yourself. That’s always gone so well. And meanwhile, me, I’ll just, what? Wait for you to give me the bad news, I guess. That’s great, Cas. Really. You know, you –”

“Stop,” Castiel asks.

And a little of the fight leaves Dean again. He looks as though he wants to say something else, but doesn’t know what. His face is half apology and half anger.

“It just…” he says. And then waves his hand, like it doesn’t matter anyway.

And it’s the simplicity of the hurt in that gesture that has Castiel throwing all his caution to the wind and saying,

“I don’t want it back.”

Dean stops moving. His eyes fix on Castiel.

“What?” Dean asks.

Castiel’s jaw is tight, but he manages to say again,

“I don’t want it back. My grace. I know where it is. But I don’t want it back.”

All of Dean’s carefully placed anger is gone, suddenly, in his shock. There’s no performance, no strategy, in the way that he steps closer and looks utterly bewildered.

“You don’t?” he says.

“No. I…” Castiel hesitates, and then says, “I took it out myself.”

“You what?”

Castiel lifts one shoulder, a little diffidently. It had been necessary, so he’d done it. As simple as that.

“Cas,” Dean says, and then seems to be at a loss. Castiel doesn’t say anything. There isn’t anything to say, so far as he can see.

He’s made his choice. And if he ever regrets it, if he ever wishes things could be different, all he has to do is look at Dean and it pales to nothing.

“Cas… why?” Dean manages eventually, and Castiel breathes out.

He looks at Dean.

Dean stares right back at him, not understanding.

“Did someone make you?” Dean demands. “We can go and look for them, we can –”

“No,” Castiel says. “No. I chose to do it.”

“But Cas…”

“It’s –” Castiel presses his lips together again, trying not to let the expression look pained, even though there’s a flash of hurt through his chest at the thought of trying to say any of it aloud. Saying it would push the two of them, Dean and Castiel, towards a tipping point. A no-takebacks, no room for misunderstanding point. Sharp as a thorn.

And it’s the last thing Castiel wants.

Until they talk about it, anything seems possible. It almost feels real enough. But if they talk, it’ll all be over. Dean will tell him to take back his grace, and Castiel will have to leave. It’ll be over.

“You took it out. What would you do that for,” Dean says. When Castiel doesn’t reply, he reaches out and puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Hey,” he says, the word harsh enough to compensate for the touch.

“It’s nothing,” Castiel says.

“Cas.”

“Really, it’s…” Castiel stops. The denial dies in his mouth. He swallows, his eyes on Dean, before he looked down. “I just want to be able to stay with you.”

The last two words are too much – all of it is too much – but they’re out his mouth before he can stop them. Castiel breathes out and waits to feel Dean’s hand loosen its grip, drop away in shock at the unwanted intensity. It’s too much. Castiel knows it’s too much.

But Dean’s hand is still on his shoulder.

“You want to be able to stay?” Dean says.

“Yes.” Castiel says it bluntly, to try to shave off the emotion, make it easier to talk about. Dean’s hand still doesn’t move. Castiel can feel each place Dean’s fingers are digging in slightly through the thin material of his t-shirt. His heart is pounding and he wants to be able to turn it off, quiet it down, hear Dean’s heart instead in the way he could when he had his grace. He wants it with a sudden acuteness, a pang of loss.

“But – you can,” Dean says. “Why would you think you needed to do this?”

Castiel can’t look back up at him.

“Cas,” Dean says.

There’s a band of pain squeezing tightly around Castiel’s chest. He can’t quite seem to get his breath, suddenly.

“I just thought I’d fit better this way,” he says.

“Fit better?” Now Dean moves his hand, pulls back, though he doesn’t go far. “What do you mean?”

“You’re human,” Castiel says. He looks up, meets Dean’s eyes. “Now I am too. I thought, maybe…”

He trails off. He can’t say more. He can’t talk about what he hopes for, what he wants. He can’t.

Dean’s hand is back on his shoulder and the touch is different, now, less insistent. Softer. Castiel can see the gentleness in Dean’s eyes, shy and uncertain, allowed to show just for a few moments.

“We don’t have to be the same,” Dean says.

Castiel doesn’t know how to answer.

“We’ve never been the same,” Dean says. “But we’re still good. Right?”

There are no words in Castiel’s mind, or none that make sense – or none that he can say aloud. He wishes he could give Dean the way that he feels, just drop it into Dean’s mind, show him without having to explain it. The feeling is yes, good, of course we’re good, but there’s more – there’s different things, things I want to be to you, ways I want to be with you. And not telling you feels more and more like lying with every passing day but I don’t know how to tell you without you being suddenly aware that I’ve been wanting you in a different way to how you want me for a very long time, and will you hate me for that? Will you think I’m a liar? Will you send me away? Could I bear that? Could I bear it? If you hated me, how could I bear it?

“I just,” Castiel says, “I just want to be able to stay.” It’s the only part of it that will come out of his mouth.

“You can,” Dean says. “You don’t need… damnit, Cas, you didn’t have to take your own grace out just to be able to stay.”

Castiel nods mutely. Dean’s hand squeezes Castiel’s shoulder.

“So you can put it back, right?” he says. “The grace. You can go get it and put it back?”

“I could.” It comes out more direct and harsh than Castiel intended, and Dean’s grip tightens.

“So…?” he says.

Castiel can’t meet his eyes. He looks to the side, around the garden that he’s created. The flowers that have unfurled for him, trusting, unfussy about what deep love and secrets he’s hiding. The leaves and shoots that grow steadily under the care of his hands, no matter who else those hands wish they could hold.

“Cas,” Dean says again, and gives another squeeze, and then lets go. “Your grace is you, man. All these months, it’s not like you’ve had a good time being human, is it?”

“It’s worth it.”

“Worth it?” Dean echoes.

“If it means we’re the same,” Castiel says. And his reasoning isn’t even clear to Castiel himself, now. It just feels as though if they’re both human, if they both are the same thing, there’s a chance they could both feel the same way, too – it makes no sense, and yet Castiel can’t imagine letting go of the thought.

“We don’t need to be the same,” Dean says, repeating himself with a look that’s crossed between confusion and concern.

“But I…”

Castiel stops talking, cuts himself off. Dean’s eyes search his face.

“You want to be?” Dean says, cautious, hazarding a guess. And when Castiel’s expression tells Dean he’s right, his face goes even more soft with surprise. “Why?”

There isn’t anything that Castiel can say in answer. No explanations he can give that will make sense outside his own mind. All he finds himself doing is looking at Dean – looking at him more openly than he has done in a long time, half tight-lipped and wanting the conversation to end, half hoping that Dean will finally piece it all together. He allows himself to stare, frankly and directly, pushing away the guilt and shame that push at him and tell him to look down, step away, move back, leave. He stares like he once used to all the time, letting down the walls.

There’s Dean, he thinks. There he is. Sometimes the feelings in Castiel grow so big and overwhelming that he forgets the shape of the man at the heart of them. The way Dean cares. The way Dean looks at him right back, matches him – when it comes down to it, never pretends it doesn’t matter to him when it does.

Dean’s mouth opens to form words, but he seems to stop himself. Castiel watches Dean swallow, and feels the familiar swoop and ache in his chest as all his crushing sky-sized love focuses into the smallness of the place on Dean’s throat that he wants to touch.

Dean goes to say something, and then stops.

Castiel looks down at Dean’s lips, and then back up again.

Is it wrong, how much he wants to kiss Dean? The feeling is pressing, immediate, alive. It’s in Castiel’s blood, in his bones. If Dean doesn’t want him too, in the same way, does that make the feeling wrong? Or would it just be acting on it, making Dean aware of it, that would be wrong? But the feeling is a background hum in everything Castiel does. He acts on it even when Dean isn’t with him. He acts on it all the time.

Every passing moment changes the gaze between them. Dean’s waiting for him to talk, not filling in the space with any words this time, but his face keeps sinking further into something that looks dangerously like realisation.

“I don’t know,” Castiel says. If how he feels, or what he’s doing, is wrong, then he should look away. He should go away, leave Dean alone, find somewhere else to be. But he couldn’t, he can’t, not until he knows for sure that Dean doesn’t feel even slightly the same way – and he can’t ask, because as soon as he knows Dean doesn’t feel the same way, he’ll have to leave. The thoughts chase their tails in Castiel’s head and he stares and he stares at Dean and he hurts so much that he wants to hit his own chest just for the distraction of a simpler pain.

“You don’t know what?”

“I just don’t know, Dean.”

Dean is watching him carefully, his mouth slightly open, as though trying to figure out how to phrase something he wants to say. There’s a slight tinge of colour to his cheeks, too, Castiel notices.

“Uh,” Dean says. His mouth shapes a ‘w’ like the start of a question, and then closes again, and he frowns – but he doesn’t look away.

He almost knows, Castiel thinks. He’s almost understood. And as soon as Dean understands, it’s over. Unless he feels the same way, which he doesn’t. He can’t. We’re not the same. No matter how hard I try and how much I change, we’re not ever the same.

He needs to cauterise this conversation like a wound, stop all this from happening, but he can’t find the words. Dean’s still watching him. Castiel’s heart is thunder in his head, drowning out his thoughts.

“You look like the whole world’s falling apart,” Dean says eventually. “Not an exaggeration. ‘Cause I’ve seen your face when the world was actually falling apart.” Dean points vaguely with one finger towards Castiel’s face. “And it looked like that.”

Castiel nods mutely, and Dean sighs and glances sharply away, and then back again.

“Come on, Cas, jesus. Something’s up, so whatever it is, just tell me.” He looks at Castiel for a long time, and then he says it again. In a different voice, quieter, with a little rise at the end as though of hope or something equally as stupid for Castiel to consider. “Tell me.”

It’s said in a way that makes Castiel want to believe he’s asking for all the things Castiel wants to give.

Dean’s eyes are wide, too. Like he can’t quite believe what he’s asking.

And Castiel’s human heart is pounding at that tone in his voice, that look on his face, because it feels as though – tentatively – they could be talking about the same thing. The longer Castiel watches Dean’s face, the more he sees it. There are the little flickers of denial, uncertainty, in the way Dean’s eyes narrow for a half-moment. And then there again is the rise of hope in the depth of Dean’s gaze, the openness.

It’s so small and barely-there that Castiel can’t trust it. He can’t know how this ends. It’s a rope thrown into down into his well, though, and with no idea what waits for him at the top, he still puts his hand on it and wonders if he’s strong enough to begin to climb.

“I, um.” He starts to speak, and his voice is low and rough. When he pauses almost immediately, Dean shifts his weight from one foot to the other, licks his lips. Castiel searches for the words. “I tried staking that peach rose. But it didn’t do any good.”

Dean looks confused. He doesn’t even bother to look down at the rose, just keeps his eyes on Castiel.

“What…” he says.

“It just grew that way,” Castiel says. He can feel a lump in his throat. “Naturally. It wanted to grow that way.”

“Okay,” Dean says, as though slightly concerned for Castiel’s sanity.

“I think sometimes it’s just like that,” Castiel says. He meets Dean’s eyes. “You can try planting them in the place you want them. Cut them back. Put a stake through them.” He resists the sudden, unexpected urge to reach up and touch the place on his chest where, years ago, Dean buried a knife in his heart. He swallows. “But sometimes there are things you can’t control. And even if it’s not… not healthy, or pretty, or the way it’s supposed to go… that’s how they’ll grow. Just towards the place they want to be.”

Dean’s listening intently, but his eyes are clouded with confusion. He looks like he wants to say something, and then stops himself. Castiel can’t blame him for not understanding, when half the point is that he’s talking without getting to the point. He doesn’t want to get to that sharp-split point when his life takes one of two courses, when Dean says one of two things.

“Dean, I…” Castiel says, and his hand reaches out. Unconsciously, awkwardly, the straggling limb of a plant that has never grown the way it should have done. And Castiel goes to catch himself, to stop letting his fingers trail through the air reaching for a place they can’t go – but then Dean takes his hand.

Dean takes his hand, and holds onto it. Not sweetly, not softly. Hard. Like they’re at the top of a cliff and Dean’s afraid of losing his grip and having to watch Castiel fall alone.

Castiel can barely breathe. Against the odds his hand is being held by Dean. Against the way that his words desert him, against the thousands of reasons that the two of them shouldn’t have ever even met, let alone be standing here together in a garden. Against all of it, Castiel’s hand is squeezed tight in Dean’s.

There’s a part of Castiel that’s trying to pinch itself, that’s shaking its head in denial, but Dean’s grip is warm and real.

“Cas,” Dean says. “Do you…”

The question has no ending, but it’s Dean, so the answer is yes. Castiel nods.

Dean’s expression seems, with just the smallest of looks in his eyes, to break apart. He holds onto Castiel’s hand and says nothing, doesn’t move.

“And…” Castiel says, but his throat goes dry. He can do this. He has to do this. If he doesn’t now, he never will. He tries again. “And… you?”

Dean looks momentarily bewildered.

“Yeah, Cas,” he says.

Castiel feels himself go light, so suddenly his stomach flips.

Yeah, Cas, he hears in his head. Yeah, Cas.

On another day, when Castiel hadn’t just told Dean how he feels through a series of oblique angles – when Castiel’s hand wasn’t still being held in the rough warmth of Dean’s – Castiel might have been indignant at that tone in Dean’s voice. As though it had been obvious, when yes, half the time Dean was staring at him like he actually mattered, was ready to die for him – but the rest of the time Dean couldn’t look at him, was ready to die for anything.

Their hands swing a little between them. Just their arm muscles getting a little tired, and their hands moving together. Such a very little thing to happen, Castiel thinks. So very small. After all this time it’s just one hand in another, and it means absolutely crushingly everything, in the way that he’d known it would.

It’s happening, he thinks. It’s happening. We’re the same. We’re the same.

A little clutch of fear that he might change, one day. Wake up and be something else, unexpectedly. Grow again, in a direction Dean doesn’t –

Castiel breathes. It’s alright. He’s torn out his grace for this. He can be the person Dean needs. He can change himself again. Over and over, if needs be.

He holds Dean’s hand. Tight. He can always change again. He can make them the same again. Whatever it takes. For this, for the feeling of Dean's hand in his, it would be worth it, anything would be worth it. But –

Dean’s grip goes slack in his own.

“Wait,” Dean says. “Wait. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Castiel says. He holds tighter. “Nothing.”

Dean’s hand drops Castiel’s. The loosening of his grip is a slow-motion whip crack across Castiel’s chest.

“No?” Dean says, looking at Castiel, asking with the single word whether Castiel doesn’t want anything that just happened. He puts his hands up just a little way, maybe a surrender, maybe just a gesture to show he isn’t touching.

“Wait,” Castiel says, his hand still in place, still reaching. It shows, then, he thinks to himself. That sickle-curve sharpness in his chest, the fear in him that he won’t always be able to fit himself to what Dean wants, it must show. Dean can see it. Castiel lifts his chin, tries to look as though he’s feeling incredibly happy, instead of just incredibly much. “Dean, why are you –”

“Cas…” Dean’s eyes are searching his face, looking for the place where something is wrong. Castiel wants to cut in, insist that nothing is wrong. Take Dean’s hand again, reach for more – he could reach for more, he thinks, and his heart twists, and his head feels light. He could reach for more. Dean might let him. Dean was holding his hand for a moment, there, by choice, as though it really meant something. Castiel’s mouth is dry.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel tries. But his stomach is sinking, even as he’s aching with the terrifying joy of the sudden opening of all the doors he’d always thought were closed for him.

Dean can see that he’s scared. Dean is going to figure it all out. And then those doors will close again.

“I mean…” Dean says. He blinks, shakes his head just slightly. Seems to remember where exactly he is, glancing around at Castiel’s garden. It’s all slipping out of Castiel’s grasp. They’re going to pretend as though the last two minutes never happened, Castiel can feel it.

It’s unbearable. It’s unbearable. The idea of having had it for barely a few seconds, and then losing it. Castiel reaches for words, for anything – something that will show Dean how much it all means to him, how far he’ll go to make it work.

“We’re both human,” he says, almost blurts. “I took out my grace. So we can be… so I can stay.”

Took out, he thinks to himself. What a clinical way to talk about the tearing, the self-destruction, the loss.

Dean just looks at him, mouth slightly open.

This is supposed to be the part where Dean argues, Castiel realises only when it doesn’t come. This is the part where Dean asks me what the hell I was thinking. Tells me to put the grace damn well back where it came from, and to stop making terrible decisions. And then I argue back, and tell him I’ll do what I want to do with my own grace, and I made this choice for him, and I’d do it again.

But Dean isn’t saying anything. He’s just staring. And Castiel stares, too. He can’t argue back when Dean hasn’t started the fight. He can’t push back if Dean never pushed forward. So they stand in silence. The clouds overhead roll on, oblivious to the hearts frantically pounding so far beneath them.

“Cas,” Dean says, and he says it differently to how he’s supposed to – quietly, carefully, handling the name like it’s made of something delicate. “I don’t know what you want me to say, man.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Castiel says.

“But you… you did that…”

Castiel watches him mutely.

“Why?” Dean asks.

So many answers. To be like you. To be near you. To show you I can change for you. Castiel opens his mouth and tries not to say too much.

“For – this,” Castiel says, managing to stop himself saying, for you.

“This?”

“This,” Castiel says, holding Dean’s gaze.

Dean holds his gaze.

“But it – ah. Jesus, Cas, this is hard to talk about.”

Castiel nods. He doesn’t want to let it go – feels sick at the idea of Dean just dropping the subject, and heading back inside, leaving the garden and forgetting all about what they’d said to each other. Chalking it up as somewhere he’d never go again. Too much baggage, too heavy, not worth it.

Dean puffs out his cheeks, though, and breathes out sharply, and says,

“It’s just that, hell, man, you never had to take the grace out to have… you know… anything you wanted out of me.” Dean looks uncertain as he says the last part, as though a little disbelieving that Castiel could want anything from him in particular. “You know that. Right?”

His voice is so different. So gentle in a way that Castiel only barely recognises from the most private of moments they’ve shared. Castiel is suddenly so intensely aware that they’re the only two in the garden, alone with each other. No one else to see them or hear them or judge what they say to each other. It’s a thought that gives him courage.

“I’ve changed for you since the beginning,” Castiel says. Dean opens his mouth, and then closes it, his eyes troubled. Castiel watches him, thinking. “Or –” he starts, as a new thought occurs to him. “Or, changed because of you, at least.”

Dean still looks confused, as though he doesn’t really see the difference. To Castiel, though, it feels clear as day. He changed because he met Dean – without that meeting, he would still be the angel he’d always been. But when he thought about it, the person he changed for was himself. Because it had felt right. Because it felt, period, and that was what he’d wanted.

It loops round and round perfectly in Castiel’s mind. Meeting Dean, the push Castiel needed to start running. And knowing Dean, now, the pull Castiel needs to keep changing, stay with him, stay together.

“I just thought,” Castiel says, when Dean stays silent, “if I could be human like you, then maybe you’d… maybe we could be the same. And stay that way.”

“And you want that,” Dean says.

“Yes.”

“Because…”

“Because,” Castiel says, a little taken aback, “I want… this.”

“But why’d we have to be the same for that? I mean – this?” Dean frowns, as though almost losing track of what he’s trying to say. They’re trying to talk all around it without using any words that are too big.

“Why…” Castiel trails off as he considers the question.

Dean shrugs, in a way that battles to look uncaring and ends up looking heartfelt.

“But… we need to be the same,” Castiel says. He wants them to be close like two leaves on a tree. Closer, two petals on a flower. No, closer still, not even two things. Just one, one plant, growing strong. He wants them that close, that inseparable, after so long being forced apart by fate and circumstance. No would-be gods or divine powers could set them apart if they were one thing. The same.

“But we aren’t the same, Cas,” Dean says, so quietly that Castiel only just hears it over the little burst of breeze that briefly ruffles over them.

Castiel feels his chest clench.

“I’m trying…” he says.

“No, I mean – I mean we can’t be,” Dean says. “I mean, we aren’t, ‘cause we’re… you know… two different people. There it is, you know? Different people. We can’t be exactly the same.”

“But…” Castiel starts, and the word comes out sounding almost angry, so he checks himself and looks down. “But,” he starts again, “if I can just…”

“C’mon,” Dean says, the smallest of smiles softening one side of his mouth. “You wouldn’t really want two of me running around the place, would you?”

“That’s not how I meant it,” Castiel answers, his voice serious, but with a lightness in his eyes to acknowledge Dean’s brush with humour.

“Come to think of it, though,” Dean says, “I’d get a lot more work done on the car if there were two of me. And we could harmonise on Zepp tracks. Maybe you are onto something.”

“Dean,” Castiel says, though he can feel his heart lifting just seeing Dean reaching out for him, trying to make him smile.

“I wouldn’t let you share my toothbrush, though, no way.” Dean looks around the garden. “And this would have to go. Hate to break it to you, but no way are you digging around in the dirt for hours if you’re me. Not unless there’s something to salt and burn at the end of it.”

“I know,” Castiel says, and the words sound little and obstinate, but his hands relax. Dean is looking at him like he gets it – like he sees that curling fear inside Castiel, the one that can’t let them be two different and separate things that just happen by the grace of luck to be next to each other. Because luck runs out, and they both know it. The only way to be sure of staying together, the fear says, is to be so much the same as to be one thing.

But it’s impossible. Castiel can’t be Dean. And Dean’s right, too, because Castiel doesn’t really want to be. He doesn’t want to give up gardening. He doesn’t want to work on Dean’s car. He doesn’t want to share a toothbrush.

He wants to spend time growing things. He wants his own hands in the dirt. He wants – he wants Dean, in the way that he has done since meeting Dean. And he wants to keep wanting.

Even if he didn’t want it, it’s what is. They’re two plants next to each other. Hoping not to be uprooted, hoping for sun, hoping for kind hands that stake them upright and water them even when they won’t flower. Always at the mercy of whatever storms might come, however hard Castiel tries to tangle himself together with Dean, camouflage with him, become just the same.

There are plants that do that, Castiel remembers. Plants that tangle and blend with other plants. They’re weeds. They choke out the first plant, cut off all its light and food until it dies. Two things can’t become one thing without loss. And Castiel doesn’t want to lose Dean – and, he realises quite suddenly, he also doesn’t want to lose himself. There’s so much he wants to do.

Things he might be able to do.

He looks at Dean, who’s watching him piece it all together, giving him time in silence, or maybe just struggling to find more words. But either way, Dean is still here. Dean is in front of him. A moment ago, they were hand in hand.

They could be again.

“You good?” Dean asks, seeming to sense Castiel come to a conclusion.

“Yes,” Castiel says. Dean visibly relaxes, shoulders easing under his coat. Castiel wants to put his hands on those shoulders. He wants to reach out. He wants to touch. He wants, wants, wants, and it feels like still growing, it feels like still changing, it feels like being alive. Like being himself.

He wants to hear Dean’s heartbeat. He wants his grace back. With a sudden absolute certainty, Castiel feels how much he wants his grace back.

He meets Dean’s eyes, and says simply,

“It’s here.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, catching Castiel’s mood without his meaning.

“It’s here?”

“My grace,” Castiel says. “You were asking where it was. It’s here.”

“Here?” Dean looks confused.

Castiel can feel his mood unfurling, the parts of himself that he’s pushed away and hidden – the parts that have known all along he wants his grace back – finally allowed to breathe, finally being given what they need. He turns his attention to his garden, bending down next to the peach rose that has been so wilfully refusing to blossom.

“I didn’t expect anything to grow when I buried it here,” Castiel says to Dean, over his shoulder. “But then the first flowers came, and so I bought more, and then I put in the fence, and – it helped, being able to come here.” He puts out his hand towards the peach rose, speaking meditatively, almost not quite to Dean at all.

His fingertips brush the tightly closed buds, the sharpness of the thorns. Castiel lets that want for his grace rise up in him, unafraid of the feeling now that he knows it can be acted on. He closes his eyes, and feels for his grace.

It’s right there, waiting for him.

Brilliant and electric. Fast, so fast, and all colours, colours so bright they hiss and spit as they rocket up the stem of the peach rose and through Castiel’s fingers, filling his body with a fierce familiar hum. Castiel breathes in and smells every flower in the garden at once and the breeze and the tang of sap and the rich wetness of the soil and there, behind him, Dean. He breathes out ozone, heady.

He can feel the hat on his head, the way it rests on each hair. He can feel Dean’s closeness, the way the atoms of air jumble between them.

He can feel the sunshine on his face when it finally breaks through the clouds overhead.

The world is turning beneath his feet as it should. The plants around him are creaking as they grow. Dean is breathing a little quicker than usual, and Dean’s heartbeat – there it is. That sound Castiel has missed since the day he tore out his grace. Thud thud, thud thud, thud thud. Castiel closes his eyes more tightly and focuses in on it, loses himself briefly in its rhythm.

“Cas?” Dean says. His voice has all the layers Castiel can hear as an angel. Richer, deeper. He can hear the roughness that comes from the light scarring in Dean’s throat after years of hunting, calling out warnings and yelling in shock. He can hear the exact pitch at which Dean ends the single word, the note that means it’s a question and it’s shy and it’s hopeful and Dean is trying to hide all of it.

The sun is bright when Castiel opens his eyes. There on the peach rose, at the tip of the stem through which he drew out his grace from the earth, is a full-blossom flower. Blushing petals unfurled, just waiting to be looked at, to be touched. Castiel reaches up a finger, and presses it to the velvet centre.

He stands up, and turns to Dean, who’s looking at him with something in his eyes that’s just the same. Newly unfurled, wanting touch.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says, and Dean’s face relaxes.

“Here all along, huh.” Dean says. “Damn it, Cas. And there was me, worrying where to find it for no goddamn reason.” The words are irritable but Dean’s tone is a betrayal of them, because it’s so gentle, so serious. Serious enough that Castiel doesn’t feel silly when he takes a step forward, closer to Dean.

He meets Dean’s eyes silently, asking a question.

“You still…?” Dean says.

Still what exactly, Castiel wonders. Still want this? Still want you? Still look at you and think about how anything else I’ve tried to care about felt like trying to follow a script written for a part I was never meant to play, but with you caring grows up without me even trying like a wild rose in good earth?

The answer to all of it is yes. It’s Dean, after all. The answer is yes.

Castiel doesn’t use words to say it. Dean barely used them to ask the question, it was all in his eyes and the way he’s still holding his arms slightly out to the sides as though hoping to have a reason to put them around someone, and so Castiel gives him a reason.

The closeness – Castiel has always thought it might be jarring, if it ever happened, to be in Dean’s space like this. Something he’s wanted for so long and imagined so many times that the reality would be strange. But it’s not strange, it’s – it’s just a little slow, and hushed. It’s so quiet in the garden as they come together. Hand touching hand. Then arms reaching up. Castiel’s eyes tracing the lines of Dean’s face, finally having time to do it in as much time as he chooses, because Dean’s going a pleased shade of red under his gaze.

“I, uh,” Dean says, his voice a little hoarse. Castiel tilts his head at a slight angle. “I, uh. I don’t know how to do this. When it’s you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I – I don’t know if you want me to…” Dean’s eyes drop to Castiel’s lips. Through angel’s eyes, Castiel can see the slight tremor in him, the way he leans in just a little and then pulls back, the way his muscles are tightening in uncertainty.

“Yes,” says Castiel simply. He reaches up, and tilts his hat back.

“But you… it’s…” Dean looks at him helplessly.

And Castiel thinks perhaps he understands. This thing between them, the way that Castiel feels, it’s – it’s alive, it’s wider and deeper than the sky. It’s everything. And they’re supposed to, what, kiss about it? As though it were the end of a fairy tale? The end of a second date?

But then, they’ve done all the rest of it before. They’ve done blood and big choices. They’ve done hands grasping for each other against every rule, against all the smart money. And now there’s just this.

There’s just Castiel leaning forwards, and seeing relief and happiness break through on Dean’s face like sunshine for a second, before they kiss.

Castiel feels his wings unfurl.

It’s still not Heaven. It’s not even close. But – Castiel pulls back, and sees the expression on Dean’s face, the way his eyes are wide and unbelieving and so, so happy. But it’s a place, where Castiel is growing things.

#whelvenwingsfic #destiel #destiel fic #ahh I managed to finish it in time!! I'm so glad #I started this thinking it was gonna be something tiny and all fluff #and then this came out #what can you do #thank you so much to the mods for running the challenge #and to the artist for submitting such lovely art #and to sam wanderingcas for being herself in my vicinity

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family. 

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced.  You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder. 

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers. 

--

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

--

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​ ; @artsymaddie​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​ ; @lunaserenade​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​ ; @heatherbel​ ; @marydjarin​ ; @annathewitch​ ; @absurdthirst​​ ; @hnt-escape​ ; @writingletterstothefire​​ ; @misswriter​​ ; @bison-writes​​

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

 Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

#The Long Con #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike fic

[johnkrrasinski]

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

Chapter 3: chains around my demons

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,798

Summary: blessed with telepathic abilities since birth, you were captured by HYDRA and turned into one of their weapons to kill. after the blip, you were pardoned by the government and you were obliged to check up with dr. raynor everyday which you had no clue would lead you to the one soul you’d been waiting for.

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+) angst, mentions of anxiety, nightmares, murders.

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @ohmickeyhenry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for trusting me with your story. i sincerely hope you like it.

The next day, you packed up your bags and were ready to leave. You were waiting on Sam to arrive at Wakanda with the quinjet so he could fly you and Bucky back to the compound. You were a little bummed about leaving Wakanda, it had been a therapeutic experience for you and Bucky to be here. The thought of living the domestic life, in a beautiful place like Wakanda that is far away from the bustling city of New York was enticing. Sometimes you’d look at Bucky just walking around in his shirt and sweatpants doing the most mundane things instead of getting prepared for another mission and you’d think “I could get used to this.”

You thanked T’Challa, Shuri, Queen Ramonda and the Dola Milaje for everything they had done before you bid your farewell. You promised to stay in contact with Shuri and the Dora Milaje but it was still hard to leave them, they were truly the best people you had ever met. They reminded you of everything HYDRA was not. You could see why Bucky always spoke so highly of them.

Later that night, you had the compound all to yourself. Tony was having a date night with Pepper, Natasha was on a mission to Hungary, Sam was visiting his sister in Louisiana and Rhodey was dealing with some air force matters. As much as you loved the Avengers, you were grateful for this moment alone with Bucky.

The dimmed lights in the kitchen where you and Bucky just had dinner gave him an idea, “doll, get up…”

She did as he told even though she had no clue what he was planning, “for what, Bucky?”

He didn’t answer her but rather, he commanded FRIDAY to play a song called Put Your Heart on My Shoulder by Paul Anka. “Let’s dance, doll.”

He put his flesh hand on your waist and took your left hand with his vibranium arm, “I haven’t danced in ages, Buck.”

“Me neither, doll, but we’ll learn from each other,” he smiled affectionately at you.

It started off slow and you kept your eyes on each other, saying things that words can’t illustrate. It’s love, the realization of how fortunate you both were to have found each other. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” you uttered softly as you fiddled with his dog tags.

“Me too, doll. But we got each other now, I won’t let anything keep me away from you for too long.”

There was a brief silence. “Do you remember the last time you danced like this?”

“1945, Stark Expo, before I was shipped out to England. Her name was Connie and I took Steve with me because I wanted to spend it with him on my last night. I set him up with Connie’s friend but the punk just left to try to enlist in the army.”

Steve. You’d heard about him from Natasha and Tony. No one outside of the Avengers really knew where he was but you knew that he went back in time. That’s all you knew about it. You had also learned about his and Bucky’s friendship and how they really went all the way back. You were often curious about his ‘disappearance’ however you didn’t wanna pry or made Bucky feel worse. Losing a friend was always hard, let alone someone who was his only connection to his past, the life that he knew before he was forced to live out those violent years. You’d heard from Sam about how Steve was the only reason why Bucky stayed alive and how he had thought about committing suicide before. Now that he was gone, Sam often feared that Bucky would snap and give in to it but he always tried to be there for him. You were just glad that Bucky had Sam even before you were around.

“Do you… miss Steve?” you hesitantly asked as you rested your head on his chest.

“All the time,” He confessed. You were a tad relieved that Bucky wanted to open up about him to you. “He was the only family I got left, and when he went back, I felt empty. I was just lucky that Sam didn’t give up on me… And that, I met you.”

You smiled, you lifted your head to look at him. “You’re never gonna lose me. Not again,” you touched his face and he kissed you. It was soft, nothing like the kiss on your last night in Wakanda, but you could feel him pouring all the emotions and gratitude he had for you and you did just the same.

He lifted you as you wrapped his legs around his waist, still maintaining that kiss. Bucky carried you onto the dining table where you just had your dinner and he laid you there as he trailed to your throat and all the way down to your body which was now half-exposed after he lifted the hem of your shirt up until your breasts were revealed.

You weren’t wearing any bra so it was easier for him to access your nipples, he sucked on the right one as his flesh hand made its way down to your pants, unbuttoning it, and he inserted his fingers to find your clit, rubbing it in circles, making you even wetter every second. You shut your eyes, letting him have his way with your body.

His fingers and his tongue worked so magically that within seconds, he had you close to orgasm. “Bucky, so close…” You could feel his smirk against your nipple and he rubbed you faster. You moaned his name as you released all over his digits, soaking them up and he lifted his head to look into your eyes as he sucked your juices all over his hand like a fucking ice cream.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” The sight of Bucky staring intensely at you as he sucked on his fingers that were drenched by your cum was euphoric, like watching a live homemade porn video. Bucky took off his sweatpants and his shirt, discarding them on the floor. Seeing him shirtless never ceased to mesmerize you, his body was a work of art. He’d told you one night that it took him a while to accept the scars on his body, let alone the bionic arm that felt nothing like a human but you told him that you loved every inch of it and if you could, you’d worship it forever.

Bucky then lifted the shirt that was still rumpled on your chest, up to your wrists, where he used it as a makeshift knot, keeping your hands above your head, “stay there, understand?”

“Yes, sergeant.” You had no idea what sparked that nickname, but from the way he grinned, he sure loved it and if he loved it, then you were sure to use that in future steamy sessions.

“Sergeant, huh? You’re in big trouble, darling.” Bucky tore your damp panties and you gasped, not expecting him to be so aggressive… Not that you were complaining though. “Bucky…”

“Shh, let me take care of you, baby.” He kissed you ferociously, with his tongue completely dominating your mouth. Without any warning, his middle finger intruded your body… But it was an entirely different feeling from the last time he did that to you because he was using his vibranium arm and the sensation instantly took over your body, running in your veins like that serum in his blood.

“Oh God, Buck…” You whined as you looked down to where his finger was moving in and out of you at a slow pace.

“Does it feel good?” He asked as he kept looking at your face, searching for any signs of discomfort but with each motion, you only seemed to enjoy it.

“Yes, it feels fucking amazing… Don’t stop, please.”

He began to move his digits faster, and when your wails grew louder, he inserted another finger and you arched your back. “Fuck, oh God…” Bucky curled his fingers to brush your sweet spot, pushing you to the edge and you cum for the second time all over his vibranium hand.

“You’re so hot when you cum,” he whispered in a gravelly low voice that could weaken any woman in the knees. He pulled his fingers out of you and he used your juices to stroke his member to make it easier to slide into you.

Bucky lifted your legs onto his shoulders and he lined his cock to your entrance, slowly as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Bucky began moving, he was taking his time with your body, wanting to feel every inch of you and you of him, and you whimpered with every thrust. He felt so heavy between your hips that you could feel your orgasm approaching fast, even with the languid pace.

“I’m not gonna last long…” You said in between whimpers.

“I know, doll. Just let go when you’re ready, okay?” He began to speed up, his grunts and the sound of your skin slapping was obscene, making you nearly forget you were fucking in the place where the Avengers would feast (if they found out what you did on this table, Tony would hire a cleaning service company to scrub the entire surface thrice.)

The coil in your lower abdomen tightened and you knew you were seconds away from rupturing. A few more thrusts and you hit your peak. Bucky kept holding your hips tightly and he continued to pound into you, prolonging your orgasm as he chased his own climax. Your body trembled from the aftershocks but from the way Bucky was impaling you, you could feel a fourth orgasm coming and you didn’t know if you could take it anymore.

He felt you squeezing his cock once again and you both came together, pleasure washed over both of you. He shot his load inside you, painting your walls white. A few more shallow thrusts to blow every drop he had left within him. He stayed inside you as he hid his face between your neck and your shoulder, the warmth of his body on top of you was comforting despite the sweat all over your body.

Bucky lifted his head to look at you and sweep the strands of hair sticking on your forehead, “you okay?” he panted. You could only respond by nodding, not moving because of the weight of him still between your legs and how completely spent you were.

Once he had regained his composure, he retreated himself out of you and he carried you in bridal style to your room, wanting nothing else than to take care of you with a hot bath and forehead kisses under the duvet.

tags; @ohmickeyhenry @suitofvibraniumarmor @themaddies-obx @themaddies-obx @beminetokeep @bluemoon-icecream @bluemoon-icecream @harprs @thefridgeismybestie @abitofeverythingg @wolfonthemoonwatchestvshows @julimelodi @bookscoffeandotherstuff @tanyaherondale @artisancowbells @ferxaniti @intothesoul @hallecarey1 @buckybarnesplumwhore @thefallenbibliophilequote @andiyholly @emizla @capxwinter @jevans2 @alwaysreadingimagineschick @swtltlmrvlgrl @extremelyblackandwhite

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan series #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fluf #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x reader

[pfreadsandwrites]

九つの命/9 Lives Translation

Hi!! So, @foxy-and-tales asked me to tell her what was going on in the comic mentioned in this post. After skimming through it, I thought it'd be good practice - and it'd be easier to answer her question - if I just went through it and told her what it all meant. I realised by that point I was doing a translation, and since I was going to the trouble anyway, I thought I'd post it publicly.

So, the full comic is here. It's basically a comic that has 7 little stories about Kakashi's ninja hounds and their lives with Kakashi. It's an adorable, heartfelt story and I absolutely love the personalities that the artist gave all the ninja hounds and the depictions of their relationships with Kakashi.

My translation will be this post, follow it as a script. I don't have the skill or knowledge to edit and typeset and change the images myself - and I wouldn't do that anyway, as it would involve reposting the art and changing it without the artist's consent. But I do think that not referring to the pictures as you're reading through the script really harms how sweet this story is, so if you can go through the comic slowly whilst referring to my (amateur) translation of it, I hope you can get a glimpse of that!

WARNINGS: There is a depiction of an already dead dog in part 4 😢, and some (human!) male partial nudity in part 6 (😉)

Tagging: @scaredlittlefoxy @lemony-snickers @backalleykat @whatshernameis @gwedosuns @topsyturvy-dream @ice-icebaby @cosmiclattes

This is also the artist’s note that follows after the comic, that I’m putting here:

(Artist’s note translation)

"This is a story about the daily life of Kakashi and the eight ninken.

The ninja dogs’ personalities etc mightn’t be faithful to the source material.

The dogs live free range in Kakashi’s house.

There is an illustration of a dog dying, though it isn’t any of the ninken. Please take note.

You don’t have to read it, but below this are the dogs’ personalities:

Shiba: Friendly and sensitive

Biscuit: Childish and Selfish

Akino: Calm and cool demeanour

Bull: Timid and Quiet

Urushi: Ladykiller. A little bit dim. (Note: Himbo!)

Guruko: Annoyingly helpful and naggy

Uhei: Pure-hearted and cheerful

Pakkun: Same as in the series"

Some notes and then onwards into the translation under the cut:

Please take heed before continuing:

I’m not a professional translator, in fact I’ve done very little of this, so there’s some guesswork and liberties taken, and I don't claim that that there’ll be no mistakes.

I’ve separated it out by sections and pages, so you should be able to follow the story from following the speech bubbles (right to left) and referencing the lines here by speaker

Each space between a line denotes that it’s the next speech bubble

A new line but no change in speaker will denote that it’s the same character talking, but in the next panel or speech bubble

Italics means the character is thinking or flashbacks. I'll try and make this obvious as I go but the artwork should make that clear too.

Brackets are my additions, or me translating things like signs etc, or brackets will have smaller background dialogue not in speech bubbles. I'll try to make this clear as I go.

Stuff surrounded by * denotes actions or onomatopoeic actions/words in panels

Ask me if there’s any parts that confuse you about the story!! The way I’ve done this isn’t easy to follow but it's the best my dumb brain could come up with

TRANSLATION:

Title page

(p.1)

ここのつのいのち

9 Lives

(p.2)

1. ‘I won’t tell anyone’

(SFX: dogs playing and wagging tails)

Kakashi: Hm? You’re not gonna play, Shiba?

Shiba: …No. …Hey, Kakashi’

Kakashi: Hm? What?’

Shiba: There’s a girl I like’

Kakashi: Ohhh… I won’t tell anybody.

I won’t tell ~ I won’t tell ~

(p. 3)

Shiba: She’s really cute…

Kakashi: That’s great ~

Shiba: But I haven’t even spoken to her once

Kakashi: You should go for it ~

(SFX: *happy dog panting*)

Shiba: I’ll come back as soon as I’ve talked to her!’

Kakashi: Yep!

Shiba: I’ll be right back, definitely!

Kakashi: Ok, ok (lit. Yes yes)

(p.4)

Shiba: She’s already got someone (lit. she’s already in a couple/has a mate)

Kakashi: I see…

Shiba: She said her mate hurt his leg and can’t walk so he's staying at home…

(p.5)

Kakashi: Shiba, you know.. have feet that can walk anywhere…

So maybe you’ll meet an amazing girl again, won’t you?

(*dog cries*)

Kakashi: ...I won’t tell anyone. (*Comforting doggy*)

I won’t say anything. I won’t say anything.

(Kakashi: Aw, Shiba is pretty sweet to me, huh?)

2. Biscuit’s Sausage (note: I know his name is technically Bisuke in Japanese, but Biscuit is his dub name and it’s too adorable so that’s what I’m going with here! Also suits the personality he has in this story. What a biscuithead this boy is)

(p.6)

Biscuit: -You’re so sneaky, Kakashi! I wanted to eat sausages!

*crying dog noises*

(Uhei: Sorry, Kakashi…

Guruko: I told you!!)

Kakashi: You know if you eat sausages, Biscuit, your tummy will get sick, right? I’m boiling cod for you right now

(*tantrum noises, pounding feet and barking*)

Biscuit: *angry puppy noises* I hate fish, you idiot! I said I want to eat sausages! Sausages! Sausages!

Kakashi: *sternly* Biscuit

Biscuit: *whimper*

(p.7)

Biscuit: Kakashi, you IDIOT!

(2. Biscuit’s Sausage)

Biscuit: *sniff*

(Sign says Konoha Pet Food)

Biscuit: This is the store that sells the dog food Kakashi buys! Wow, maybe they have sausages here too!

(p.8)

Biscuit: I wonder if I'll be able to eat as much as I want… *gulp*

But if I did that, Kakashi would get in trouble

No, maybe…

*heart pounding*

Kakashi kept it (this) a secret just from me, because I'll get sick...

(Apron says Konoha Pet Food)

Shop Lady: *shuffles*

Biscuit: I didn't do anything yet!!! * heart pounding*

Shop Lady: Oh my… you really just talked!

Shop lady: You’re Kakashi’s pup, aren’t you?

(p.9)

Shop lady: Kakashi got you to come here, huh?

(Shop lady: you’re a good boy!)

Bisuke: Oh, no-

Shop lady: Though, he shouldn't have made you come pick it up without contacting us, huh? Here, sausages!

Biscuit: Sausages?!

Shop lady: There’s a pup among you guys that can’t have normal sausages, right?

It was a request from Kakashi.

He said he wanted me to make some especially for the puppy who can’t handle meat.

(p.10)

Shop lady: Well, here you go!! You’ll tell Kakashi we’re sorry for making him wait, won’t you?

Biscuit: Oh, um… But I don’t have any money…

Shop lady: It’s fine, because it’s Kakashi!

Whenever he has free time, he comes to pay.

I have a deal with him, you see. And he can't get the food if he's not here...

Next time, come together with Kakashi, okay?

(p. 11)

Kakashi: *casually picks up Bisuke* Thank you! This is for you ~

Shop lady: Thank you, come again!

Biscuit: Kakashi…

Kakashi: Hm?

Biscuit: Sorry…

Kakashi: Yeah…

I’m sorry too. I gave everyone else sausages while keeping it a secret from you.

I thought you’d definitely want some if you saw…

(Kakashi: But I got caught.)

(p. 12)

Kakashi: But…. Everyone’ll want some if they see this, too.

How about stopping by the park and eating it there?

We’ll keep it a secret from everyone 😊

Bisuke: *happy face licking and barking* When we get home, I’ll eat the cod too!!

Kakashi: Uhh… Well, Uhei and Guruko already ate it…

Bisuke: WHAT?!!!

(Flashback, Uhei and Guruko saying ‘Cod! Me too!! Me too! I want to eat some too!’)

3. Kakashi’s smile

(p. 13)

*paws thudding on ground/running away*

Kakashi: …Got you.

Akino: Ack!

It’s always only me that you brush so roughly, Kakashi!

Kakashi: It can’t be helped, can it? You have the thickest fur, Akino

*brushing softly* It’ll be over soon, it’ll be over soon…

Other doggies: That seems nice to me, Akino…

Kakashi: Hey, it’s falling out, it’s falling out ~

Akino: !!!

Kakashi: Look, it’s a mini Akino!! So much fur…

Akino: That’s too much hair off the bottom, Kakashi! Wha…

(p. 14)

*Kakashi continuing to laugh at his mini Akino*

Akino: There are times now where Kakashi summons us, even if he doesn’t have any business for us to take care of…

(Back then) he never ever summoned us outside of missions…

(p. 15)

Akino: He was doing all kinds of things, but he was the kind of person who never had a smile on his face…

Kakashi: If I had more time, I could make an even hairier one, you know

(Other dogs: *laughing* Akino: That’s a lie!)

Akino: Kakashi…. You're having fun?

Kakashi: *genuine smile* Yep, I am!

Akino: *smile* If you feel like it, you can keep going…

Kakashi: Oh?

(Later, Akino notices Kakashi has put sunglasses on the mini Akino)

4. Timid Bull (CW Animal Death)

(p. 16)

Bull: I’m the last ninja hound that came to Kakashi’s home.

Before that, I was living in a training centre for ninja hounds.

(4. Timid Bull)

The dogs I lived together with there… were all adopted when they were puppies.

But I still lived at the training centre, even as I became fully grown.

Ninja Hey, that dog looks tough, doesn’t he?

Centre manager: Yes, but… he’s not all that suited for battling…

Despite how he looks, he’s actually a timid dog.

Bull: I… I’m scared of insects. I’m scared of noises.

I’m scared of blood.

Centre manager: Because he can understand the stories of troubled humans, you see…

Bull: I’m scared of anything other than myself.

(p. 17)

Bull: Nobody would want a dog like me, right?

Kakashi: I found a good boy ~

Bull: *panicking* There’s no manager here!

Kakashi: Hello ~

Bull: …Hello… *heart pounding*

Kakashi: Ah, one that talks, huh…

Would you like to become one of my pups?

(p. 18)

Bull: Me…? Me, really? Quit it… That’s enough joking around.

Kakashi: What do you mean?

Bull: No-one wants me (😢)

Kakashi: No-one?

I want you, though.

Bull: What kind of a strange person would want me, I thought

(p. 19)

Bull: There were lots of dogs at Kakashi’s house

(Happy barking doggy noises)

Uhei: Woah, you’re huge! But among these guys, I have the fastest legs, you know!!!

Guruko: And I have the best nose!!

Biscuit: And I’m whiny!! (Note: lit. ‘I’m selfish!’)

Shiba: I have the sharpest bite!

Pakkun: I am the wisest. (Note: Pakkun I think uses Kansai-dialect Japanese lol so he sounds kinda... distinct. This is hard to convey for me lol)

Urushi: I’m popular with the ladies ;)

(Akino: I’m the fluffiest!)

Bull: I was so confused

You… you’re not scared of me?

I’m huge, and I have a scary face… So no one comes near me.

They all said they weren’t scared.

The reason, they said together, was…

(p. 20)

‘Because Kakashi brought you, Bull!’

Everyone was totally relaxed, as if they had no worries at all.

They all clung to me as if it was completely natural to do so.

I realised that there’d always be someone beside me.

(p. 21)

*sounds of paws scuffling against ground in first two panels*

*jumping to the ground noise in third panel*

Kakashi: …Bull, this way is a dead end.

Bull: …Sorry.

I couldn’t go back to where you were, and I thought so, but -

(p.22)

Bull: *looking at dog* He asked me to stay by his side.

…He was an enemy, but he was already dying.

That’s why, Kakashi….

Kakashi: …Yep.

Let’s give him a send-off together.

(Note: this was a tricky one because Kakashi says 送る, which means send, and is used with mail etc, but can mean to say farewells to the deceased, which is why Bull comments on it on the next page)

(p. 23)

Bull: He wanted to say ‘I want to bury him’

But Kakashi said ‘send-off’.

Lightly, as if his life force was still there

There… there are a lot of things that scare me.

When I was waiting for this dog, I was scared.

But I couldn’t refuse his request.

(p. 24)

Bull: …I’m spineless.

Kakashi: Everyone else has lots of things they’re scared of, you know.

That’s why they all stay by your side, Bull.

If you’re there, everything will be alright. That’s how everyone feels.

If you’re close by, everyone’s able to feel safe.

(p. 25)

Kakashi: ….This puppy, too.

Dying dog: …Please…

Bull: That dog…

Dying dog: Stay with me, until the end…

Kakashi: Because you stayed with him, Bull, he felt at peace, didn’t he?

Bull: I don’t think that dog was happy…

…Kakashi.

He was very thin, and he also smelt like he was sick

To protect themselves, his owner didn’t treasure this [this dog’s] life.

Kakashi, I…

Somehow, I..

I’m very…

(p. 26)

Bull: I wanted to cry out as loud as I could..

Kakashi: Yeah… (I’m not sure who’s saying this line)

Bull: For feeling guilty towards that dog, and for knowing Kakashi…

For my life being here now.

For my life, I wanted to cry it out until the blood came out of my throat.

(p. 27)

Bull: That dog…

I wonder, was that dog ever able to feel like this, even once?

(Flashback) Doggies: Because Kakashi brought you, Bull!

Uhei: Hey!!! Bull!!

Shiba: You’re late!!

I was worried, you know!

Guruko: (to others) Hey, Bull came back!!

Bull: I’m Bull. The dog that Kakashi found.

5. Urushi’s scales

(p.28)

Urushi: I think I’m good looking

(5. Urushi’s scales)

Girl pups: Ahh~ Urushi…~

Urushi: I’m popular with the ladies

(note: he uses メス, which means bitch in the literal sense - a female dog - and all the puppers use it to refer to human women too. So I just left it as ladies, as I don't think the pups mean it to be crass, they just use dog language and apply it to humans as well as themselves)

Sometimes I’m told ‘it’s probably because you’re one of Kakashi’s ninken’, but…

(Background lettering over the other dogs says ‘Unstylish/Uncool/Lame’)

But my other friends aren’t all that popular, really.

Still, I think it’s because I really am good-looking after all.

(Choruses of ‘Urushi~’, ‘Ahh…; and ‘Let’s play together, Urushi)

Urushi: Hehehe…

Being good-looking is a great thing.

Guruko: Hey, Kakashi!

(p. 29)

Guruko: You got hit by a girl again, didn’t you?!

Kakashi: *laughing* No…

Akino: Why were you hit by a girl? Do girls not like you?

Uhei: It looks like it hurts…

Kakashi: Nooo ~

Shiba: You’re so strong, Kakashi, why were you hit?

Biscuit: You couldn’t avoid it?

Guruko: *Steam from nostrils* I’ll fight her for you!

Kakashi: It’s fine, it’s fine ~

What are you saying?

(p. 30.)

Urushi: Kakashi said ‘I took responsibility’.

Sometimes humans say things I don’t understand…

Girl dog: Urushi… pair up with me.

Urushi: If Kakashi’s saying it, it must be important…

Be… Because I’m one of Kakashi’s ninken?

Girl dog: It has nothing to do with that. I like you, Urushi

Urushi: Wow… *heart pounding*

Girl dog: Pair up with me, and…

I want you to leave the ninken. (Lit. Stop being a ninken)

(p. 31)

Girl dog: I love you, Urushi, but what if, on a mission, you…

I can’t stand the thought of that!

Leave the ninken, and… always stay in the village with me?

Urushi: This girl’s a beauty, and has a kind personality…

I think that I might want to be with her…

Should I leave the ninken?

(p. 32)

Urushi: *perplexed*

Kakashi, Bull and Biscuit: *zzz, sleeping sounds*

Urushi: If I said I wanted to leave the ninken…

Kakashi: (in Urushi’s imagination) If that’s what you want, Urushi

It’s fine with me! (Background: It would be a shame, though…)

Urushi: I feel like Kakashi would say something like that…

Do I want to do that…? Not really, but… *sigh*

Hey, Pakkun.

(p. 33)

Pakkun: Something bothering you?

Urushi: Yeah, there is

I have to decide between two things, but it’s difficult…

I want both of them, but I can’t have them.

Pakkun: … Is it a girl problem?

Urushi: Yep ~

Pakkun: That’s just like you, Urushi. (Pakkun’s imagination shows two girl pups arguing:

Urushi!! Which one will you choose, me or her?! *indignant barking*)

When making a decision about something, one needs to think about what’s most.

...important to oneself.

Let’s say you balance both sides on your scales…

Urushi: My scales?

Pakkun: For example….

(p. 34)

It’s not the physical weight, but the weight of what you think is precious and important. It’s the weight of those feelings.

If you think about which is heavier, you’ll find the answer.

Kakashi: You guys are having a kinda complicated conversation, huh…?

Pakkun: Oh, Kakashi, you woke up, did you?

Urushi: *heart pounding*

Kakashi: My scales lean towards sleep, you know..

Let’s eat soon, okay? Please…

Urushi: Kakashi…. Are you happy that I’m here?

(p. 35)

Kakashi: Hm? Yeah, I’m happy!

Urushi, of course I’m happy ~

(Note: the word Kakashi uses is 嬉しい, which is ‘ureshii’ so Kakashi is making a pun with Urushi’s name here.)

Urushi: *blush* Okay!

Pakkun: What we were just talking about… Don’t talk about it in front of Shiba.

Urushi: Huh? Why?

Pakkun: Seems like he recently had his heart broken…

(p. 36)

Urushi: The thing that’s most important and precious to me… isn’t you.

That’s why I can’t be with you.

I can’t be with you, but… you’re a beautiful and amazing lady.

So, let’s meet again one day ~

Biscuit: Kakashi! Kakashiiiii! It’s awful!!

(p. 37)

(*throbbing pain*)

Biscuit: Urushi’s hurt!!

(*dogs barking*)

Guruko: Let’s go fight them!! *steam from nostrils*

Shiba: No way, is it a girl? Kakashi, you better tell him off!!!

Kakashi: Did you get into a fight with a dog from the village?

Urushi: No, it’s not that…

I took responsibility.

I’ve got a manly mark on my face, heh~

Shiba: You better tell him off!! *bark*

Pakkun: That’s it…

6. Kakashi’s Helper Team!

(p. 38)

Kakashi: I’m home~!!!

Guruko: ?!!! Kakashi, you stink!!

Kakashi: *sweetly smiling* Oh, stop it…

I saw Asuma after a long time, and we talked and ended up getting some drinks… It was nice to see him… *flops down on floor*

Guruko: Take a bath!!!

Don’t go to sleep!!

(*soundly sleeping*)

(p. 39.)

Guruko: Uhei! Uheiii!

Uhei: What is it?

Guruko: Let’s clean up Kakashi!

(6. Kakashi’s Helper Team!)

Uhei: Ehh… But if he wakes up, he’ll take a bath himself, won’t he?

(SFX: Heave-ho! Heave-ho!)

Guruko: We can’t leave Kakashi as he is when he’s this stinky! It’s fine, take it off!

Uhei: Uh, this is stuck half way, I can’t take it off

Guruko: Because you haven’t taken off his leg bandages!

(p. 40)

Guruko: Damn, this is stuck half way *pulling*

Uhei: Isn’t that because you haven’t taken off his headband?!

Guruko: This is enough, let’s carry him to the bath like this!

(*dragging noises*)

Uhei: Won’t his clothes get wet?

Guruko: It’s fine, because we’re going to wash them anyway!

Uhei: It’s amazing… Kakashi still hasn’t woken up!

Guruko: Okay, let’s wash him!

Uhei: Isn’t that… the shampoo that we use?

Guruko: It’s totally safe!!

If it’s fine for us to use, it’ll be fine for Kakashi too, right?

Uhei: I guess…

(p. 41)

Uhei: We can wash his body, but what about his clothes?

(SFX: *scrub scrub*)

Guruko: If we wash them together, it’ll be fine! Hey, pour some hot water over here ~

Uhei: Okay!

(SFX: *splash*)

Kakashi: *suddenly yelling* I’m gonna die!!

Guruko: *screaming*

Kakashi: Even with my face covered, if you pour hot water on me, I can’t breathe, you know!! You really can’t do that.

Guruko: You woke up…

(SFX: *heart pounding*)

Uhei: You really scared me…

(p. 42)

Kakashi: You’d started something, and I wondered how far you’d carry on… Ah, I’m drenched.

Guruko: Ah, I’m sorry, Kakashi!!

Kakashi: Well, anyway.. you guys ended up cleaning yourselves pretty good too. You’re all drenched, too.

Guruko: Then I’ll go get some towels!!

Uhei: Kakashi, Kakashi

Guruko acts the way he does, but he really loves looking after you!

Kakashi: I know.

Biscuit: I want to have a bath with Kakashi too ~

Guruko: That’s not it! It’s just all slippery (note: not accurate, but the gist is that Biscuit misunderstands and Guruko puts him straight)

7. I’ll always love you

(p. 43)

(Flashback)

Sakumo: Pakkun…

Pakkun…

I have a favour to ask.

(Present)

Pakkun…

(SFX: Snoring)

Kakashi: Pakkun..

(SFX: Gasp)

Pakkun: Huh?

Kakashi: It’s time to eat.

(p. 44)

Pakkun: Alright.

(Other dogs: Food~ Food ~

Kakashi: Yes ~ Yes ~)

(Flashback)

Sakumo: Pakkun…

Pakkun….

Pakkun..

(p. 45)

Pakkun: Kakashi?

Kakashi: Hm?

Pakkun: For the mission report before… You didn't need me, did you?

Why did you bring me?

Other dogs: We want to come too!!

Kakashi: It’s just Pakkun for today

Kakashi: Hmm…

Hey, let’s relax here for a little while.

Pakkun: What’s this…

Kakashi: Come on…

Well…

(p. 46)

Kakashi: I want to talk about Dad.

…No. Maybe it’s a confession?

Talking about Dad…. Felt like something we couldn’t even broach. Ever.

I think you felt this way too, right, Pakkun?

I couldn’t tell you earlier that ‘it’s all right now’. Even though it was.

It was just a matter of timing, I guess…

Pakkun: But I wasn’t waiting for you to say that… Even if you’d have said it earlier, that’d have been good, but..

Why, out of the blue like this?

A change like that… Just like…

Just like…

(p. 47)

(Flashback)

Sakumo: I have a favour.

(Present)

Kakashi: The day Dad died…

Ever since then, for a long time, now… I became strange.

I’ve been nothing but trouble for you.

Pakkun: Kakashi-

Kakashi: Even though… you were hurting over Dad not being here too.

(p. 48)

Kakashi: Dad was your first master, right?

You really were precious to him.

….The other day, when you were having a nap, I woke you up, didn’t I?

It might have been because of the food, but your nose was twitching.

At first, I thought you were growling.

When I woke you up, you had a really startled expression when you looked at me.

I understood right away.

You were thinking about Dad, right?

(p. 49)

Kakashi: You were having a dream about Dad that time, right?

Thank you for always being considerate towards me…

But it’s alright now.

From now on, I want you to tell me…

The things about Dad that only you know.

(p. 50)

Pakkun: Sakumo…

(Sakumo: Pakkun…)

Pakkun: …really was a loving, kind man.

Kind, and…

(Sakumo: Pakkun…)

Pakkun: Kind, and…

…Kakashi.

I’ll tell you about Sakumo.

The things I’ve always wanted to tell you

I’ll tell you now.

Kakashi: Okay.

(p. 51)

Kakashi: Thank you for telling me about Dad, Pakkun.

Pakkun: …Don’t you dare die.

(Pakkun…)

I’ve had enough now.

Yeah. Enough.

(p. 52)

(Sakumo: I’m asking.…)

Pakkun: Sakumo…

The two of you are exactly alike.

Kakashi: Oh, really?

Pakkun: Everything’s alright now.

(p. 53)

“Kakashi!”

(p. 54)

(No text)

(p. 55)

Kakashi!

(p. 56)

Kakashi

(Note: I think the favour Sakumo asked of Pakkun was to take care of and be mindful of Kakashi always. This isn't outright stated)

#naruto #kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #pftranslates #fan comic #translation #fan translation

[hellyeahbakubby]

“just a drawing” | sero h.

♔ -  Running an NSFW art patreon, the reader has lost their motivation. Maybe Sero can help them find their inspiration, or be it. {wc: 1870} pairings -  sero hanta x reader tags -  SUGGESTIVE ONESHOT, mentions of sex, nothing explicit but be warned, fluffy bf sero, like I want boyfriend sero, pls, gimme a/n - thank you for requesting this, I had a really fun time writing it, and even though it took a while to put out I hope you enjoy it :) masterlist ▬ WARNING: SLIGHT NSFW, nothing explicit or graphic but proceed responsibly if you are under the age of 16.

For weeks now, your inspiration had abandoned you and your motivation extended to nothing more than staring at a blank screen. The hundreds of suggestions from your avid followers had begun to pile up and the hope you had of actually drawing something had been lost. None of the characters that usually stirred you to create were giving you any enthusiasm and you feared that you’d lost your spark for good. 

“Hey,” Hanta greeted you as he entered the room, munching on his lunch, “Whatcha up to?”

Flicking around to face him, you instinctively flipped your tablet to your chest as if to hide the screen. “Just some drawing,” you replied as if you’d actually made any progress

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately, huh,” he said leaning again the doorframe, digging his fork back into his dish, “Working on something big?”

“Uh, not really, just drawing,” you lied, smiling up at him. He smiled back. You sighed, you were getting nowhere with your drawing. Sitting there, lying about your progress to your boyfriend was just dumb. “Except I haven't been able to draw for weeks. I’ve lost my mojo for good.”

He watched your shoulders slump at the admission and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to your cause. He knew just how much you admired creativity and to have lost your own would be weighing on you more than a bit. “I’m sure it won’t be forever, babe,” he said coming to sit in the chair beside you. Turning in his chair so his body was facing you, he placed a warm, reassuring hand on your knee. “Maybe instead of just sitting staring at your screen, we should go get you some inspiration. Yeah?”

You stared down at the device in your hands, the blank screen. Hanta went back to chewing. He watched your expression avidly. You were always so cute which only made seeing you so down worse. So used to your usually happy attitude around him, he wanted to fix whatever was bugging you. 

Taking a deep breath in, “Yeah,” you said. He grinned.

“Nice. Why don’t we just go for a walk? And since I’ve got patrol tonight we can grab dinner after. Sound good?”

“Yup.” Even if you didn’t manage to find any inspiration you were grateful to be spending time with him. Since his schedule wasn’t exactly a typical 9 to 5 he was often working resulting in you being able to spend less time with him.

“I’ll finish my lunch then we can be off,” he said, “There’s a new park across the city that I saw last night. It’s beautiful, plus lots of flowers and stuff that might spark something.”

You smiled up at him. “Sounds good.” He was so considerate. You’d really lucked in with this one. And although you really needed to post on your patreon, maybe drawing something basic for yourself first would help get you back in that mindset. Leaving your tablet behind you went to get a drink before you left the house.

Hanta had been right. This park was beautiful. The grass was greener than you’d ever seen in person. The trees that edged the park created an atmosphere that separated the park from the outside world. It was its own little world. And the flowers. Hundreds of them. All different colours and types. The variety was astounding. You blinked a couple of times, making sure what you were seeing was real. It was captivating.

“Cool, huh?” he said with a cheeky smirk. Watching your expressions made him chuckle. He was secretly relieved that your mood had taken such a dramatic change.

“Real cool,” you said softly, nodding. You turned back to him and smiled. Throwing your arms around his neck you pulled him into a suffocating hug, kissed his cheek. He returned the hug with a laugh, wrapping his own arms around your waist in turn. Holding you in place after you loosened your grip he looked at you, thoroughly enjoying the spark of joy in your irises. “Thanks, babes,” you said.

“Anytime, doll,” he said before placing a kiss on your nose, “How about we go walk around and you can get some photos, eh?”

“Of course.”

Not a second after you’d taken his hand and begun to walk down the path when you heard someone call out from behind you. Both you and Hanta turned to look.

“Cellophane! Wait! Please!” A young woman ran towards the both of you, only slowing to halt right in front of you. She looked utterly exhausted, panting heavily. 

“You’re… you’re my favourite Pro,” she managed to get out, standing up straight and looking up at Hanta with a look of admiration you’d never seen before. “Would you mind taking a photo with me?” she pleaded.

“Oh, sure,” he said with a smile, letting go of your hand to stand beside her as she pulled out her phone, “It’s nice to meet you.” She blinked at him in awe, her cheeks reddening.

“You too,” she squeaked out. Holding up the phone as he leaned in to get in the frame, she snapped a couple of photos. 

You were oddly surprised by how you felt watching the interaction. It wasn’t jealousy or any sort of possessiveness. You knew that it was just an interaction between a fan and a hero so it wasn’t like she was gonna make any moves, or rather that he simply wasn’t interested. Instead, it was almost like a realisation. You were that lucky person, that lucky fan, who got to hold him, who got to be held by him. Your life was someone else’s fantasy, it was your own fantasy. There it was. 

You knew exactly what you were going to draw to get your rhythm back. 

“You good there?” Hanta asked returning to you as his fan walked away, every now and again turning back as if making sure he was real. “You look a bit zoned out.”

“Always,” you replied with full sincerity, squeezing his hand. His lips curled up at your response.

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine, just thinking,” you said, taking his hand again.

“About me?” he joked.

As Hanta retrieved his hero costume, preparing himself for the night of hero work ahead, you returned to your drawing room, knowing exactly what the finished work was going to be. You were one hundred per cent assured that this would cure your art block and although you had no intention of posting it, you were both anxious and excited for the one person you’d show it to, to see it.

Peeping his head around the doorframe, he grinned at seeing you already back to work. He did feel responsible for your returning motivation and was delighted with his achievement. 

“I’m off now, babe,” he said. You got up, placing a kiss to his cheek for good luck before pulling his face towards your own. Pressing your lips to his, you relaxed momentarily into his arms. He was so warm, all-encompassing. You felt so safe with him, so secure, so free of judgement. He was everything you’d ever wished for and so much more.

“Be careful,” you said, running a finger down his cheek.

“Whatever you say,” he gushed, leaning to kiss your forehead.

“See ya later, handsome.”

Walking him to the door, no sooner than he was gone you were back at your desk, sketching out the picture already finished in your head. You were almost surprised you’d never thought to draw something of this flavour before. God, just thinking about it made you flush. He was a well-known, well-desired Pro-hero; surely you weren’t the first person to concoct such a lewd creation of him. And well, it wasn’t like you were a stranger to him. You knew him up close and personal and you knew exactly what made him tick. You’d never post such a thing but you couldn’t think to draw anything else now that the idea was in your head. Not to mention you couldn’t help but imagine his reaction when he saw the finished product. 

Stretching your muscles, you turned in your bed, waking slowly. Hanta wasn’t beside you despite having said he’d return at around four am but it didn’t worry you. He usually fell asleep on the couch, even after telling him countless that you didn’t mind him waking you when he came home. You made your way down the hall, careful to miss stepping on the floorboard that always groaned under your weight. If Hanta was indeed asleep on the couch you didn’t want to wake him. You knew how much hero work took out of him, especially if he’d had a busy night.

Creeping into your drawing room to continue working on your piece your heart plummeted to your stomach when you saw the empty space on your desk where you’d had your tablet last night. Come to think of it you didn’t remember going to bed which could only mean that Hanta had moved you to your bedroom after you’d fallen asleep midway through drawing. Oh god, that meant he had your tablet.

“Fuuuck,” you heard him drawl from behind you. Frowning you spun around.

“What?” you said before you saw your tablet in his hands and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. 

“That’s my line right, babe?” he teased, tongue between his teeth, “At least that’s what I’m saying in this drawing, aren’t I?”

“I…” you couldn’t find any words.

“No, no. Your line’s ‘Oh please, god’ and then I think you’re meant to moan.” 

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn’t know what to say.

“It’s a really good drawing, just not what I expected.” He returned his gaze to the image in front of him. Although he was hiding it really well you noticed the pink tips of his ears.

“You… inspired me,” you said sheepishly.

“Clearly,” he said grinning again, “Just not in the way I thought I did.” You scowled at him.

“I just needed something to get my motivation back.”

He looked up. “Huh? Oh, I’m not complaining. I just didn’t know you drew this kinda stuff, makes sense why you hide your drawings from me. I mean bondage? Heh. Kinky.”

“Stoppp,” you begged, one hand on your face in embarrassment. You inhaled, trying to steady yourself. “It’s just a drawing,” you said defensively.

“Pretty sexy drawing though,” he mumbled. You looked up at him. His flushed cheeks said more than his words as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“If I knew what you wanted I would’ve given you a different kinda inspiration.” He was definitely as nervous about the whole thing as you were. He placed the tablet on the pile of boxes by the door. “I mean I’m happy to help you out.”

“Really?” you replied softly, “That’s sweet of you.” You sent him a sly grin and he swallowed quickly. He reached out, grabbing you by the hips. 

“‘Just a drawing’,” he said mocking what you’d said earlier, “You gonna show me your others.”

“Maybe later,” you said in his ear as he lifted you onto your desk,

“Right now I’m feeling the inspiration for something different.”

#sero hanta #sero x reader #sero smut #sero x you #sero bnha #sero mha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x you #sero hanta x y/n #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader

[amphxtrite]

cedric diggory x fem!reader

part one: Never Let You Go. (smut)

warnings: mentions of smut (but not actually smut), swearing, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

summary: Life with Cedric leading up to your graduation is pretty normal, except for the fact you hide the fact that you’re dating. With amortentia, avoiding practice for cuddles and a graduation dance coming up, how long can this relationship stay a secret.

a/n: thank you to the wonderful @mullthingsoverinthehotwater for this idea and all the help! She’s amazing go check her out!!

word count: 3.4k

tag list:@cupidpoison @wonderful-writer @coldlilheart @inglourious-imagines @evisbored @mayaleon0614 @dogsandrocketsocks

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Waking up in the arms of a lover is the most ethereal feeling you could imagine, a safe feeling, so comfortable and warm, even with the slight pain that poked at you when you tried to move your legs.

As you lay next to Cedric the sun rose through the clouds and casted an angelic glow on the hufflepuff’s sculpted face, it almost felt like you were in the presence of something divine, and just as mortals were in tales of of the gods, you were curious and wished to touch the miraculous boy before you. Tracing his jawline and pink lips a smile grows before he begins to stir and a light sigh rings as he awakes.

“Good morning love.” He yawns, his raspy morning voice bringing butterflies to your stomach. “What are you doing?” He smirks looking at your thumb tracing his cheek.

“Just admiring you darling.” You giggle leaning over to press a chaste kiss to the brunette’s lips. Cedric chuckles and pulls you closer against his chest, burying his face in your neck and sighing at your sweet scent.

“We should probably get you back to your room darling, we still have class today and I’d hate to make you late.” The gray-eyed boy smirks a bit, pressing a kiss to your nose before sitting upright on the bed. “Alright.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes to get the sleep out before standing and walking towards the door, pausing when a thought crosses your mind.

“H-Hey do you mind if we keep this between us for now?” You start, a little nervous. ”I don’t think I can take any gossip right now, and I can’t have the school knowing I’m shagging the dreamiest boy at Hogwarts, they’ll hate me!” You finish with a light laugh.

Cedric can’t help but chuckle at your cheeky comment, walking over to peck your cheek before whispering. “Of course love, whenever you’re ready.”

__________

Learning magic at Hogwarts was a dream come true for you; Charms and Transfiguration were marvellous and fascinating. Defence Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic were interesting and fun, but your favourite class, by far, was potions. Despite the potion master’s snide comments and constant eye rolls, brewing concoctions that had the properties to create and destroy was an amazing feeling. A potion has the ability to heal things even the most powerful charms cannot, they can change your form without the need to transfigure, and even break the fates to bring luck to anyone, and in that class you had the ability to do it all.

“Today, we will be brewing a very famous potion, and a very difficult one at that.” Professor Snape’s usual drone begins at the beginning of the lesson.

“Now since you are the NEWT class, I expect absolute perfection, I will write the instructions on the board and you can brew and figure out the identity of the potion with your partner. Begin.”

Excitement bubbles in you as you begin to jot down the information. You and your partner gather your supplies and begin to cut, mix and sprinkle your ingredients into the cauldron.

The distinct smell of wood combined with freshly cleaned laundry and fresh air soon floods your nose and it was as though you were on cloud nine, the scent brought a calmness to you, a safe feeling; the person connected to it was just on the tip of your tongue. A wood like aftershave, clean clothes that had swallowed you whole and the type of air only a seeker gets flying after a snitch.

Cedric peers over to you across the classroom to see you smiling at your cauldron, a dopey smile on your face. He cocks his eye brow in confusion, but as he adds the finishing touches to the bubbling liquid he immediately understands. He’s instantly transported to your arms, the scent of your intoxicating shampoo surrounding every inch of him along with chocolate and a hint of that strawberry chapstick he tasted on your lips while ravaging you in the shower. A blush immediately floods the hufflepuff’s cheeks, and suddenly his pants get a little tight.

“Mr. Diggory, since it’s quite… Obvious, you smell the amortentia. Tell us what your aroma is.”

Hoping Snape isn’t implying the tent in his pants, Cedric slaps on a small grin.

“Sweet shampoo, chocolate and strawberry chapstick sir.” He manages to nod, as Snape raises an eyebrow. “Intriguing. Miss l/n and Miss Macavoy, you were first to finish, what do you smell?”

Your partner, Heidi Macavoy’s face lights up. “Fresh parchment, Honeydukes, and broom polish.” Snape nods, looking over to you.

“I smell aftershave, clean laundry and fresh air sir.” Your eyebrows furrow for a moment when it finally hits you. There was only one person that fit that scent, in fact the only aftershave you’ve ever smelt. Cedric. Your smile widens.

The professor nods with a sigh, folding his arms and walking back to the blackboard to write. “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. Now, I would like you to write a paper on the properties of amortentia and how each ingredient factors into giving the potion it’s unique qualities. The rest of class will be for finishing your potions and starting your writing...” Snape concludes the lesson.

__________

Months pass and everyday grows closer to your graduation. Your relationship with Cedric is kept quiet, but you manage to steal kisses in dark corridors and meet in the night. Oftentimes you spend evenings in the prefect’s shower, using the sound of running water to hide desperate moans and dirty actions, but it still gets hard to remember in public you’re only friends.

Cedric adores teasing you in public, running his hand up and down your thigh underneath the table and flirting insufferably with you everyday.

“Well hello there gorgeous, where are you off to today?” He’d tease every morning.

“Oh shut it Diggory.” You’d sigh as Cedric leaned closer to your ear.

“That’s quite hypocritical to the person screaming my name last night.”

Leaving you a flushed mess for the rest of the morning. Cedric respected your want to keep the relationship a secret, he knew he was popular as it is, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun with you. He loved it when you gave him the warning glare if he ever tried his luck in public, and the blush he left after teasing you brought a huge smirk to his face every time. And any chance he got, whether alone or in public, he loved to bring up your amortentia.

“Aftershave, laundry and fresh air huh?” He’d grin down to you, a playful look in his eyes. “Oh Merlin here we go again.” You’d sigh, readying yourself for the cheeky comments.

“Sounds like you smelled the dreamiest boy at Hogwarts!”

__________

The Winter snow took over the Autumn leaves and Hogwarts became a winter wonderland, sweaters were swapped with cloaks, runners became boots and scarfs covered the necks of each student in the school. Unless you were a quidditch player. The captains of each team were still determined to win the quidditch cup, and Cedric was no exception. Everyday was filled with drills, plays and scrimmages that left your muscles sore and your nose frozen from the winter cold. Cedric left no time to stare at the falling snow and each practice somehow left the team shivering and sweating all together.

You couldn’t blame each of the captains for wanting to earn the cup and lead their house to victory, but when Cedric went captain mode it seriously made it seem like you were going to be stuck by your goal post for the rest of the winter.

“Ced, it’s blizzarding outside.” You sigh as the brunette began pulling on his uniform.

“Can we please just take today off? We’ve trained everyday for the past 3 weeks!” Cedric seems to hesitate. “I-I know love, but-“

“Cedric, you know you’re overworking yourself, c’mon let’s just take today off alright?” You stick your bottom lips out in a pout and make grabby hands towards the tall hufflepuff.

“Alright love, because you asked so nicely.” He smirks and collapses back into your arms. He wouldn’t admit it, but you were right, his hands still ached from holding the broom too tight and Merlin were his feet cold. You smile before relaxing into your darling’s arms.

__________

As Winter shifted to spring, the subject of graduation became of the utmost importance.

“Graduating class! As you know at each graduation ceremony there is a ball and banquet. I expect proper behaviour, and represent hufflepuff well. It was a pleasure having you here with us.”

Professor Sprout’s speech comes to an end as the graduating students of hufflepuff cheered and applauded their head of house.

“Are we allowed to bring dates to the ball? A person not the fruit I mean.” Another student calls to Sprout as a couple kids laugh. “Of course! You can bring any of the graduating class, of any house, with you.” The short professor smiles and turns to chat with a girl.

Cedric immediately turns to find you in the crowd, smiling excitedly at you, only to see a worried expression on your face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, walking closer to check on you.

“Can we talk a sec?” You pull the Head boy by the arm to a deserted area, away from prying eyes and take a deep breath.

“Cedric, I really want to go to this ball with you, but I'm nervous about what people would think of me.” You begin cracking your knuckles in an anxious manner, biting on your lips as everything that could go wrong plagues your mind.

“Darling.” Cedric smiles and takes your hands into his. “Who cares what people say? I’d be honoured to have you by my side. If you’ll have me that is.” Cedric looks around for anyone before falling to his knee and kissing your hand. “Y/n, I absolutely adore you, and I could not care less what little minded people have to say. Accompany me to the ball?” The hufflepuff’s eyes fill with hope and love and you knew then, he was right. Cedric was your sunshine and no one could take him away from you.

“Yes Cedric! Yes I’ll go to the ball with you.”

__________

It was decided the two of you would show up together at the ball to ‘announce’ your relationship, but until then you’d stay on the down low.

It was hard seeing girl after girl walk up to Cedric with hope in their eyes only to be rejected in the nicest way possible. You were happy Cedric was yours, but some of these girls were gorgeous and sweet and it made you want to hide your face when they’d walk away dejected; although a small part of your brain jumped for joy when Cedric would discreetly look at you and wink after each confession. As each day grew warmer, so did your heart. Excitement flourished and each day held pure joy that you were one step closer to a future with Cedric.

__________

The Hogsmeade weekend before the graduation ceremony finally arrived and just like most of the graduates you rushed to find the perfect outfit before everything was gone. There were quite a few clothing shops at the village, but your favourite was the small shop towards the end of the street. A small business run by a mum and her family. You enter the shop and the smell of cinnamon and sugar greets you.

“Y/n!” Two little voices call out and two young girls make a beeline for you.

“How are my two little princesses?” You giggle, kneeling down to their level to wrap the small children in your arms.

Coming to the shop often helped you grow close to the family in charge, they were so kind and always had exactly what you were looking for.

“Where’s your mum kiddos?” You ask just as Melina, the owner and mum of the two girls, comes rushing towards you.

“Good to see you y/n dear, now you two run along while I help our little graduate.” She smiles at the girls who hug you one last time before running off to find something to play with.

“Looking for a dress i’m guessing?” Melina laughs and begins walking towards a shelf in the back. “You know me too well Mellie.” You smirk, trailing behind the brunette. Mellie brings her finger to her chin as she begins searching, her eyes full of concentration, shifting to success as she pulls a f/c gown from the rack.

“I knew this day was coming, so I made this dress especially for you.” She grins, holding the dress out to you.

Immediately you wrap your arms around her, and thank her like your life depended on it. This was by far one of the most thoughtful things someone had done for you, and it made you emotional. With small tears running down your face you pull back. “Thank you so much Mellie, it’s gorgeous.”

You giddily run for the change room and pull yourself into the gown. The f/c contrasts your skin beautifully and the shape accentuates your curves, bringing out a newfound confidence and you find yourself admiring yourself. Twirling, laughing and picturing yourself dancing with Cedric.

Despite her insisting it was a gift, you press the galleons for the full price into her hand, hugging her and the kids one last time before walking out of the store, dress in your arms. You stop at Honeydukes for a treat before making the trip back to the castle.

__________

Cedric wanted to make sure he was dressed appropriately for the ceremony, and his suit from last year just wasn’t going to cut it. He scourges every clothing shop in the Hogsmeade vicinity only to be met with empty shelves or nothing in his size. He’s about to give up and wear his old suit when a small shop catches his eye.

“Worth a shot.” He murmurs before pushing open the door. “Hello, I’m looking for a suit.” He greets the woman at the front.

“Oh you must be graduating as well. I’m Melina, please follow me.” She gives the brunette a warm, motherly smile before leading him to a rack.

“I just had a girl come in for her graduation outfit as well. Do you know y/n?”

Cedric let’s his smile shine through when your name is mentioned and turns to Melina.

“I do actually, I’m the lucky guy who gets to go to the ball with her.”

Melina’s eyes light up and she immediately rushes towards a suit towards the end of the aisle.

“Perfect, I had a lot of extra fabric when I made her dress, so I tailored a suit to go with it.” She rushes towards Cedric, pulling a tape measure from her apron pocket. Cedric raises his arms and allows the woman to take his measurements, an excited smile gracing his face.

“It’ll be a little tight in the chest, but other than that it’s a perfect fit!”

Melina quickly pushes Cedric into a change room and the brunette shrugs on the dress shirt and jacket before pulling on the pants and the cape-like overcoat. He nodded to himself in the mirror. This was perfect and he knew you’d love to see him in your favourite colour.

__________

The night of your graduation ceremony arrived and every seventh year was preparing themselves for the night ahead. Some were fretting over hair and makeup while others were content with just showing up and having fun. You were in your room with a couple of your friends, helping each other with outfits and makeup.

“Hold still Sebastian, I'm almost done with the eyeliner!” You scold the blonde as he fiddles with his fingers. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just ticklish.”

You smile and feel a tug on your scalp.

“Gently Heids, you’re gonna rip out my hair.”

Everyone began to laugh and slowly but surely you all got dressed and prepared for the long night ahead. You slowly make your way to the great hall, arms linked with your friends and laughs ringing from everyone. Once at the doors you split up in search of your dates. You spot Cedric’s mop of brown curls and quickly make you way closer to him.

“Nice suit.” You smile and turn back to your date, smiling at the colour choice and design.

“Thanks I got it from Melina.” He grins proudly, pulling a corsage from behind his back and clasping it around your wrist.

“No wonder we’re matching!” You laugh and move your wrist around admiring the flowers. Cedric smiles as he takes in your dress, thanking his lucky stars for whatever he did to deserve such an angel like you.

“Well, you ready milady?” Cedric grins offering his arm to you. “As I’ll ever be milord.”

You take in a deep breath and push open the doors to the hall.

Bright lights flood your vision and happy cheers sound in your ears, people laughing, dancing and drinking, and overall having a great time. Your face lights up and you begin to pull Cedric faster through the room. There were quite a few eyes staring in your direction. Emotions ranging from envy, sadness, disbelief and awe were all noticed when you stepped inside with the Hogwarts Champion, golden student and Head boy on your arm. You could hear whispers claiming you to be fake, an attention seeker or whore, and a frown begins to tug at your lips. Cedric takes notice and quickly wraps you into his arms gazing at you with love filled eyes as everyone else fades away. The anxiety and disappointment evaporates and soon it was just you and Cedric swaying in the middle of the dance floor. Many of your friends shoot you thumbs ups and congratulated the two of you, but all you could focus on was the gray eyes that pulled you into a trance. When the two of you glided across the hall you could’ve exploded with happiness, Cedric ignored even his best mates just to keep on dancing with you. His eyes were glued to you and only you as your face lit up and your eyes shone like stars. He was reminded of the Yule Ball from last year and how he awkwardly danced with you, trying not to look directly into your eyes in fear of getting lost and tripping up.

If his past self could see him now Cedric was sure his mouth would be agape with an unshakable grin. the brunette kept on pinching himself just to make sure you were really in his arms looking into his eyes as if he was your world. It got to the point he couldn’t help but pull you into him and dip you into a low kiss.

So much had happened in just a couple days. He’d won a quidditch game and your affection, he made love to you in a shower, cuddled you in his bed, and smelled you in his amortentia. And while all those things were amazing, he didn’t need one more hint you were the one for him. He had fallen in love with you, and when he looked to the future, the only one he could see by his side was you; In front of him when he knelt to propose, Beside him in a white dress and a veil, holding your children in your arms and growing gray and old with him. His silver eyes found themselves tearing up as he deepened the kiss and held you there in place. The sound of whooping and groaning drowned out, and you smiled into the sentimental kiss, cupping the hufflepuff’s cheek in your hand as you wiped away his tears.

“I love you y/n, so much.” Cedric murmurs against your lips, trying to hold back his tears as you stood so beautifully before him, drying his tears and smiling that perfect smile.

“I love you too Cedric, more than you’ll ever know.” you respond adoringly.

The ceremony began and every student cried in joy at the fact they were now graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

You held onto Cedric’s hand all night and as the party came to an end, you toasted to the night and all the bright days ahead.

With the newfound freedom to just be a couple, Cedric pulls you away from the dance early and with a laugh, leads you to his dorm and places you onto his bed. The rest of the evening was dedicated to your sinful thoughts and desires as lust broke free.

No one saw you for the rest of the night.

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