#How the fuck. I feel ashamed I had to hide in my scarf for a bit

[writemekpop]

The L Word | Huang Renjun

Pairing: Huang Renjun x Reader

Summary: You refuse to say I love you to your boyfriend Renjun, and he gets mad.

Genre: Boyfriend!Renjun, angst, domestic AU 

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Sulky Junnie, fuck girl Y/n 

“Honey…” Renjun began. He was sitting on the couch, nervously picking at a thread on the throw you’d bought together. It was stretched out, thin, about to snap. 

“Yes, baby?” you replied.

Renjun bit his lip. “How come… you’ve never introduced me to your parents?” 

 You snapped your book closed, sighing. “Junnie, how many times? My parents are really strict-“

“-and they don’t approve of boyfriends.” Renjun interrupted. “I know the story. Only, I’ve seen you video chat them, and… they seem lovely. Not strict at all.” 

You re-opened your book, but the words were blurry, your thoughts drowned out by your beating heart.  “C-can you shut up? I’m trying to read.”

Renjun sniffed. “Why are you hiding me from your parents? Are you… ashamed of me?”

You dropped the book and stared at Renjun. “No! Of course not!”  

Renjun’s eyes narrowed. “So there is something then. Come on, Y/n, you’ve met my parents so many times. You’ve even met my great aunt!” 

Heck, you weren’t a feelings girl, you were a tequila girl. But if you didn’t speak up, Renjun’s imagination would spin out of control, and destroy you in the process. 

It was now or never.

“I haven’t introduced you to my family because… I’m not sure if i...” You trailed off, a shiver running down your shoulders. 

“Not sure if you… what?” 

You gulped, screwing your eyes shut. “I’m not sure if I… see a future… with you.” You winced as soon as the words came out. 

“I… but-” Renjun stuttered, panting like the floor was falling out beneath him.  “But we’ve been going out for two years!” 

You chuckled dryly, “Well, I think you’ll find… we broke up for a few months, and we weren’t always exclusive, so it’s technically… we’ve only been going out for sixteen months?” 

Renjun’s shoulders slumped. “Sixteen months,” he whispered. “Well, it seemed pretty fucking serious to me.” 

Renjun stood up and stormed into the hallway. You heard the jingle of keys, like a mirror smashing, seven years bad luck. 

You ran after Renjun and saw him lacing up his white trainers with the little daisies. 

“Wait, don’t just storm out! Why do you have to be such a drama queen about every single thing!”

Renjun scowled, wrapping up his French scarf. “Why do you have to be so- so mean? I’m going to stay at my place for a few nights. I think we need some time apart.” 

You pulled a hand through your hair. “Oh come on, don’t be dumb! Who cares about the future? We have fun right now!”

Renjun crossed his arms. “That’s not enough, Y/n.”

You touched his arm, but he shrugged away. “Come on, Junnie.” You said. “What can I do?” 

Renjun bit his lip. “There is… one way you can make it up to me.” 

“Oh yeah? How?” you asked, already getting excited at the sexy, dirty things he might come up with.

Renjun’s gaze flicked to your lips and then back to your eyes. His voice was soft but firm. 

“Tell me you love me.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. No, no, no. Anything but that!

“Renjun, I-“

“I love you,” he said. “Look, it’s not that hard. Three words.” 

You took a deep breath. “I…” 

But the words just wouldn’t come out. You shrugged apologetically. 

Renjun’s almond eyes were glassy. “That’s what I thought. Goodbye, Y/n.” 

The door slammed shut behind him. 

You stood there, gaping at the empty space where your boyfriend had stood. The whole apartment seemed smaller, darker, dirtier. What would become of you? 

Four days later… 

You’d been knocking on Renjun’s pristine duck-egg blue door for five minutes, but there was no answer. 

“Renjun!” you shouted. “I know you’re in there! I messed up, okay?” 

Still nothing. 

You sighed. “I baked those brownies you like!” 

Finally, you heard him unlock the door. You sighed in relief.  

The door swung open to reveal a very sulky Renjun. You resisted the urge to brush his dirty blonde fringe out of his eyes. 

“The brownies?” Renjun said, holding out one hand, palm up. 

You twisted your hands together nervously. “Okay… the thing is, I did make you brownies, but… I burned them.”

Renjun crossed his arms and scoffed. “Typical.” 

You rushed to continue. “So… I bought you a cupcake from the bakery!” 

Renjun’s brow twitched. “Oh… thanks. Can I have it?” 

You bit your lip. “But… then I got hungry and ate it on the way here.” 

Renjun rolled his eyes and pulled the door towards him. But, before he could fully close it, you jabbed your foot in. 

“Wait!” you cried. “I was a douche to you, okay? Not just about the brownies… about everything. Please let me in.”

Renjun just glared at you for a moment. Then, he opened the door for you. Of course he did – he was always so damn considerate. 

Renjun stormed into the living room, with you trailing behind. 

He turned to face you. “Well, what do you have to say?” 

You took a deep breath. Renjun’s apartment smelt of sandalwood and cinnamon. It was cozy and warm. Just like him. You didn’t deserve a boyfriend so sweet. 

“I don’t wanna lose you, so… I’d just like to say, that… um…” you scrunched up your nose. 

“Iluhyouhomie,” you mumbled. The cringe was unbearable. 

“What?” 

You cleared your throat. “I said… I- uh… Te quiero hombre.” You chuckled awkwardly.  

Renjun scowled. “Not good enough, Y/n.”

“Okay, okay.” You said. “I… um… el oh vee ee you.” 

Renjun stomped his foot on the ground. “No!” he yelled. “If you’re just gonna play games then you can get the fuck out-“

“Fine!” you shouted, cutting him off. “I love you! Okay! I. Love. You! I love you so much that it scares me! To- to need someone like I need you… it’s terrifying!” 

Renjun stared at you, pink lips open wide in shock. Then, he stepped towards you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t realised that you were trembling. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. Renjun leant forwards and pressed his pillowy lips onto yours. Although it was just a peck, it was sweeter than all the brownies and cupcakes in the world. 

“Look, Renjun. I think I pushed you away because… because I don’t want to be tied down. I need my alone time. I want to spend the weekend how I want to spend it, you know?”

Renjun nodded. “I get it. You’re miss independent. Ne-Yo was singing about you. I can work with that… as long as you want me.”

You brushed your thumb over his cheek. “I do want you, baby. It’s just… going to take a bit of adjusting.”

Renjun smiled. “I’m okay with that.” 

He leaned in to kiss you again. But before he could, you stopped him with a hand on his chest. Renjun eyed you curiously as you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialled a number. 

“Hey, dad?” You said. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow? I want to introduce you to Renjun…” you took a deep breath. “He’s my boyfriend and- and… I love him.”

“Thank you,” Renjun mouthed, squeezing your hand. 

Once you’d hung up the phone, you jumped into Renjun’s outstretched arms. Homecoming. 

For the first time, you didn’t feel trapped… you felt safe. 

Maybe this relationship stuff wasn’t so bad after all. 

—

MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

#renjun #huang renjun #nct dream #neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #NCT-WRITERS #renjun smut #renjun angst #renjun fluff #Renjun Scenarios #renjun imagines #nct dream smut #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfiction #nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct dream reactions

[crippleprophet]

[image description: an original poem titled “ten honest thoughts,” after Rachel Wiley. the text reads:

1. listening to that poem nine years later, I'm no longer concerned about other girls’ numbers, and I've never seen this man in jeans. still, I understand the impulse to Nancy Drew after his motive like there’s a cypher somewhere beneath each of his compliments, though even as a child, I knew I could never fit into her hiding spots.

2. at 13, I weigh more than my mother on her wedding night. I watch her swallow down diet shakes in desperation to never take up more space than her husband and despair when her body never looks any less like mine. at 14, the first in a long line of skinny boys puts her arm around me so far that her palm lays beneath my belly button, and the axis of the earth shifts in size. last night, I wanted to ask about the first time someone treated him as though he wasn’t untouchable.

3. her masc day is long hair, satin scarf, earrings the size of the best strawberry in the carton. none of the clothes I browse to buy her are made much larger than the width of his narrow ribs. I've long since told myself it was a choice to be flamboyant but never delicate; we’ve fought tooth and painted nail for access to effeminacy but I still can’t find a skirt that fits.

4. don’t get me wrong, the closest thing I've had to an access issue on this axis is crying in a clothing store. when I say my body has been the biggest in almost every room I've been in, I know this is different from never getting through the door, never fitting in the flimsy seats at their table. when the rheumatologist puts her hands on my stomach and asks if this is from the hormones, she does not say it will kill me. I know enough to call this privilege.

5. even at his sickest, I can feel the care with which she does not call the inflamed curve of her cheek wrong, only inaccurate. it’s been a few months since the candid sting of my message that these meds have recalculated the slope of my face, since he told me I was dashing without any kind of qualifier. I'm so tired of not being able to see photos from 18 without mourning my jaw, am ashamed to be so grateful he didn’t meet me 50 pounds ago.

6. I texted him from the ER for abdominal pain worse than anything I've ever felt. the doctor gives me an antacid and sends me home, and another podcast tells me men are not judged for their weight.

7. he says making love to another man his size would be all elbows, but I still send every photo like a challenge, am still surprised every time her desire does not seem to have shrunk to the size of his waistline.

8. the first and last skinny guy i fucked fucked off at the first sign of interest from someone smaller and closer. forgive me for all the sins I don’t know how not to hold you to. the first time a doctor told me to eat less, I was 6; it’s not your fault I'm starving for attention but can’t manage to open my mouth.

9. in the worst flare I’ve ever had, when I can barely manage the juice my best friend buys, he is the only hunger I have left—

10. days later, when I tell him I am eating again, she rejoices.

end image description.]

#poetry #t4t #chronic illness #t4t mlm #poets on tumblr #trans poets #queer poets #disabled poetry #trans poetry #mlm poetry #crip4crip #image described #mac writes #fatphobia #medical abuse #medical neglect #medical fatphobia #internalized fatphobia #ed tw

[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor Part 2

Summary: You and Agent Walker meet again

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 2.4k

Warnings: angst, smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

The Instructor Part 2

A month came and went.

Then six weeks.

Seven.

Eight.

Then you stopped counting.

You felt used, and grew angry. The submissive part of your nature had been taken advantage of and you swore it wouldn’t happen again. Never again would you allow your desires to be seen by any man, let alone by Agent Walker. You collect your memories of him, gather them into a box, seal it tight and bury it in the darkest corner of your mind. You don’t even bring it out on lonely nights anymore, it hurts too much.

You focus on work and fall into your new routine: wake up, work out, work late, eat take out, sleep, repeat. The days soon melted into one, weekends forgotten as the routine is the same as weekdays. Your work was repetitive and uninspiring. You were a junior Agent after all. You knew to expect a few years of grunt work before anything meaningful. You kept your head down and did what you had to do, hoping your diligence paid off and the higher ups noticed.

Despite your hard work, you were surprised when you were called into your boss’s office for a new assignment. She tells you that an opening came up on a surveillance team in the field focussed on a group of foreign nationals. She told you strictly that there would be no interaction with the group, surveillance only. You agree to the new posting, thankful for the break in monotony and chance to develop your skills.

“Just a moment, here is the lead Agent now.” She says.

You turn as the door opens and Agent Walker strolls in, his clipped yet casual gait doesn’t falter as he notices you. A lump rises in your throat as you see him for the first time in months. You don’t know how to feel, but your body reacts. With a pounding heart and clenching stomach, you keep your features smooth as possible, allowing the smallest hint of a smile to widen your lips. An appropriate response to seeing your old instructor, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes flicker with recognition, his small smile and nod was just as appropriate. He says to your boss, “Is this the addition to the team?”

“Do you two know each other?”

You don’t deny it. You’re not stupid enough to believe your boss doesn’t know every Agent you’ve ever interacted with so you say, “Of course, Agent Walker was one of my instructors at The Farm.” Boldly you continue speaking more for Walker’s benefit than your boss, “But I haven’t seen him in… what is it Agent? Four months?”

“Four and a half,” he replies, with a tilt of the head.

“Four and a half,” you repeat. Like bile rising in your throat, anger fills you and for a moment you know he sees it. Forcing the rising tide of fury down you say, “Well, time flies when you’re having fun.” You bare your teeth at him in what you hope your boss takes as a smile and Walker takes for the ‘fuck you’ it was. Walker narrows his eyes at you then turns his attention to your boss.

You discuss more details of the case and travel arrangements then you are dismissed. Leaving the two of them together you tidy your desk of personal belongings since you didn’t know when or if you would return and go home to prepare.

Once you are through the gates of Langley and no longer under direct video surveillance you start to shake. Seeing him again rocked you to your core you hoped you hadn’t given anything away with your comments. Was it a coincidence that you were promoted and put in his team or had he asked for you? Neither Walker or your boss had given anything away. No time to think about it now, you had packing to do and less than two hours to get to the airbase where you would be sent to DC for the job.

You showered quickly, resisting the urge to release some of the growing tension in your gut. You hadn’t touched yourself in months and you wouldn’t start now.

Trying to push thoughts of Agent Walker from your mind was a futile task. Instead you focussed on keeping your anger raw so you wouldn’t fall under his spell again. You had accepted that he wasn’t coming back. Did he have a knack for that? Only showing himself to you when you had moved on. You wouldn’t let him take you easily this time, this time he would not get satisfaction, not after what he had done. You shake your head, ‘this time’ you say, recognising the lies you tell yourself.

You start to get dressed when you hear a short rap on the door. Fuck, the car had arrived early. You pull a robe on as you answer the door, to let the driver know you’ll be a few more minutes.

Throwing the door wide, you’re greeted by Agent Walker, his face firm, furrowed brows looking you up and down. The collar of his dark woollen coat is pulled up, framing his face drawing your attention to his piercing stare. Frozen for a moment, you can do nothing but return his gaze. You’re a deer in headlights until he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and your body is propelled into action.

You slam the door closed, but he is quicker than you, a huge paw catching it and he forces his way into your apartment. You back away, but he kicks the door closed behind him and advances, with predatorily confident and rapid steps.

He catches your throat and brings you to him. He skin is rough with unshaven hair that is yet to grow soft. His lips are so smooth and warm, that you can’t help but melt into him. You hate him.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you almost sweetly and you can’t help the hand that flies on its own and makes a loud crack as it hits Walkers cheek.

You’re both stunned. Walker tongues his cheek and works his jaw a moment. “I hope you enjoyed that, pet. The first one is free, but the next one will come at a price.” He doesn’t seem angry, in fact his tone suggests amusement, which only fuels your rage.

“Get out,” you say. You try and keep your voice steady, but you know it warbled with fear as you looked into his eyes.

“No,” Walker says. He casually removes his coat folding it neatly and laying it over the back of your dining chair. He removes his scarf, placing it on top of his coat before he unbuttons his dark brown suit jacket and loosens his tie. You watch him, mind fixated on each of his careful movements. As if he were performing burlesque show, each minute act became a piece of seduction.

He sits in another chair and pats his lap, “Come, pet.” He calls to you in his gentle authoritative voice.

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step towards him. But then you notice his smirk, and you shrink away. You can’t speak but you shake your head as you retreat towards your bedroom.

Walker starts to look irritated and his voice gains a hard edge that both terrifies you and thrills you. “Come. Here,” he repeats. “I won’t say it again, pet.”

“Fuck you, Walker,” you spit out, your anger spilling from you, becoming a torrent as you wrestle within yourself.

He peers at you with his contemplating blue eyes. Then he sighs and moves before you can even register his actions. You turn, to run, but he is quicker and stronger. But more than that, his desire to have you is stronger than your desire to run.

His vice like arms trap you as he forces you against the wall, his body pressing into your back. “Why do you fight me, pet?” His voice rumbles into your ear. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Your tears came then, the rejection you felt was no longer able to be contained. That box of memories, buried for months smashes apart and so does your control. “You left me,” you sob. “You used me then left me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ashamed at how quickly you relented and told him anything. You laugh at yourself, why did you believe even for a second you could hide anything from him? The only man who saw into your very soul.

“I know, pet,” Walker drones, his lips caressing your ear as he does. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” you reply.

His hand is in your hair, smoothing the strands away from your face. His tender touch was unexpected but welcome. You feel soft kisses on your eye lids and you slowly stop crying. His tongue comes out, licking at your wet cheeks and you hear his breathing shudder as he laps up your pain.

You open your eyes, he growls as your shining eyes meet his. He plants a foot between your legs forcing them apart while he undoes his belt and pants and you hear them crumple to the floor. His hand tilts your hips back for him while the other pulls aside your underwear as he roughly explores your centre, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You hear a muttered, “Fuck,” as his finger enters you, circling your walls, stretching you before a second enters. “Fuck, pet. Have you touched yourself at all since I fucked you?”

Unsure of what he would think, you reply hesitantly, “No. You said I was yours.”

Walkers features soften as he says, “I knew you were a good girl.” Your whole body bursts into flames and your core clenches around his thick, thrashing fingers as you hear his whispered praise.

With precise and sudden movements, his fingers are withdrawn and his broad, leviathan cock bludgeons into you. Biting down on your lips to supress the cry growing in your throat you savour the feeling of being torn apart. Wasting no time, Walker moves with vicious, aggressive speed, wounding you with his thrusts, ripping apart your defences.

Pulling down your robe, he exposes your chest. His wanton hands knead your breasts as he uses them for leverage, his pounding never stops. You hear his breaths primal and raw as he assaults your neck with his mouth and teeth. He moves his depraved mouth to your shoulders sinking his teeth in deep. The pain feels like a caress when you are this close to the edge.

Walker turns you around, lifts your leg to his hip as he enters you again. His eyes are clinical as he studies your reaction. You feel boneless under his scrutiny and close your eyes again looking away. Walker grips your throat in his hand and uses his long fingers to push your cheek back in his direction.

“Open your eyes, pet,” he orders. “I know you’re close. I want to see your eyes when you call my name.”

The pressure builds deep within your gut as you keep your eyes glued to his. His breath, warm and minty with a hint of gin maybe, tickles at your cheek. You want to kiss him, taste him, feel his tongue invade you and devour you. You silently beg him to and as if hearing your thoughts, he slowly moves his mouth to yours. His eyes stay open as he flicks his tongue over your lips before taking your lower lip between his teeth.

Like a taut elastic, your core grows tighter and your knee gives out as the rush of warmth whips through your body. He lets go of your lip in time for you to shout “August!”

Your body pulses and your tightening muscles strain with contractions until you feel all the tension fall away. Like a rag doll you slump against him. But he isn’t finished with you.

Walker lifts your lulling head with a firm thumb under your chin, He continues his frenzied thrusts with a new vigour having succeeded in his task. He fucks your listless body, you’re too spent to move, and he doesn’t care. With a stuttering final thrust he pushes deep into you, clenching his teeth, whiskered lip raised in a snarl as he growls with his final throes.

He raised his hand to your face, his thumb laying a single burning caress down your tear stained cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll pack for you,” he says before pulling away and doing up his pants.

You shower again, consciously cleaning August’s seed spilling slowly from your ruined core. Each time you think you’re clean, you feel more leaking from you and you wash again. The bathroom door opens and August enters making a show of looking at his watch.

You sigh, and turn the shower off. His eyes inspect your body as he hands you a towel. He makes no effort to leave as he watches you towel off and you awkwardly squeeze past him as you make your way to your bedroom. He has laid an outfit on your bed, complete with underwear and shoes. Your gun is on your bed in its holster with spare clips by its side. You don’t say anything to him and dress in the clothes he chose and slipped your holster onto your belt, pocketing the spare clips.

Walker is waiting at the door with your overnight bag in his hand. You give the apartment a quick look over, making sure everything is turned off and sling your handbag over your shoulder. August opens the door for you, and as you slip past him his arm wraps around your waist and he kisses you.

The deep demanding kiss you wanted earlier was nothing compared to this, his lips were bruising and hard, but his tongue explored your mouth with a soft insistence. Your hands were free and for the first time, you touched him, laying a hesitant hand on his chest, and another on his neck. His skin felt hot under yours and testing his limits you slid your fingers into his hair and were rewarded with a barely audible groan.

Then he pulled his head away with a jerk and without looking at you said, “Go to the car. You’re making us late.”

Disappointed but not surprised you went to the car wondering where this assignment would take the two of you.

Part 3

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x you #henry cavill #mission impossible fallout #august walker smut #august walker fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction

[lxngbottom]

Can we get a part 2 to pretty flower? my soul depends on it

Pretty Flower | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville finds himself being absolutely attached to the reader after their time together.

warnings: nsfw, light clit play, mentions of sex, but nev being adorable

my soul depends on this too don’t worry

—

ever since that night with neville, everything seemed to be blurring together and changing for you. it had only been a couple of weeks, and you made no attempt to even speak to him. you were so embarrassed at what happened, and even more ashamed at the fact that you enjoyed it. after neville pleaded with you to stay, you just walked out on him, giving him no rhyme or reason.

after everything, neville felt so guilty. did he over step? oh god... what if you didn’t really want that to happen? what if he was too invasive? he wasn’t too sure, but it made him burn with sadness every time he saw you, hiding your face from him in the halls.

you definitely weren’t angry with him, you just were too shy. you felt like you had committed some sort of unforgivable act.

when you told ginny, she almost flipped the whole table over in the great hall. she wasn’t shocked at the fact that it had happened, as she assumed that neville had always fancied you, but all at the same time... you had actually agreed to it. you were no longer “innocent”. and that on its own was what got to ginny. maybe the ginger was just... baffled?

“down there?” hermione asked, skimming the row of seats in the quidditch pitch. you nodded you head as people filled in the rows.

you were at a quidditch game, more than ready to support ginny in her first real match of the year. hermione and luna had escorted you, as you were terrified to get in trouble for not sitting in your house placement. when you admitted that fact, hermione just giggled and said, “and they say i’m afraid to break the rules...”

as you three settled into the stands, you saw a familiar figure walking in your direction. your body tensed, and you quickly turned your head hoping that he wouldn’t notice you.

but of course, he did notice you. he always noticed you.

“you guys saving these seats for anyone else?” neville asked politely. hermione shook her head, and he adjusted his scarf as he glanced over at you, just simply waiting for you to look back. but unfortunately, you couldn’t.

you were too ashamed.

—

the quidditch match had gone great. gryffindor had taken a victory, and for some god awful reason, you had agreed to let hermione to sneak you into the gryffindor common room to celebrate.

unusual things had happened as people cheered ron on, including lavendar brown practically forcing her tongue down the ginger’s throat. this elicited a terrible reaction from hermione, and you watched as she exited the common room with teary eyes, harry following behind her. you wanted to go check on her, but honestly, you knew that harry could probably make her feel better than you could. after all, you weren’t great with handling people’s emotions.

for merlin’s sake, you couldn’t even figure out your own emotions.

here you were now, awkwardly standing in the front as students cheered lavendar and ron on for snogging. luckily, they exited soon, probably trying to find some privacy you assumed.

you knew how that went.

you gulped as the whole time you could feel neville’s lingering presence beside you, and you could hear the sound of his voice every time seamus spoke a word to him beside you.

“want me to make you feel good with my fingers?”

“wanna taste yourself, doll? you taste so good...”

“i can’t wait to ruin you, bunny...”

the statements came back in flashbacks every single time you heard his voice. it made your hands shake, and your thighs press together.

“y/n?”

the voice snapped you back to reality, and you looked over to see seamus with furrowed eyebrows looking over at you,

“are you alright?”

you nodded your head awkwardly, feeling neville’s chest slightly pressing up against your back from how packed it was in the common room at the moment.

“yes... um—sorry... what did you say?”

oh god. this was so embarrassing.

“i asked if you placed your bet on weasley, today... if you didn’t, you’re probably regretting that now, huh?” he teased, shooting a playful grin your way. you laughed awkwardly, as you could still feel neville right behind you.

then, you heard dean and ginny called seamus’s name, and he shot them a questioning look.

“oi! leave y/n alone, finnigan!” ginny demanded, walking over towards you, “dean needs a word with you, seamus...”

he rolled his eyes and walked over to his best friend, and patted your shoulder as she returned to the boys.

you were now alone again, and people started to spread out in the common room, chatter of triumph still occurring. but, that feeling behind you still hadn’t faded.

“meet me in my dorm...” you heard in your ear, and you jumped slightly from the voice. he sounded so... angelic. “bunny...”

your thighs clenched from the nickname, and the fact that you could feel neville’s breath against your neck. but you didn’t dare to look back, even when his finger grazed the back of your thigh slightly. and suddenly, he was gone.

for a moment, you panicked thinking about what you should do. you still felt utterly embarrassed due to what happened just a couple weeks prior, but, you couldn’t ignore that familiar fluttery sensation in your stomach as you thought about it.

fuck it.

you waited for a few minutes before walking away, and ginny shot you a wink as you went towards the boy’s dormitory.

“just stay calm... it’s fine—it’s just neville...” you kept telling yourself as you walked up the stairs, also hoping that no one was following you.

the trip to the dorm was unfortunately much shorter than you hoped it would be, and you trembled as you knocked on the door. neville opened it automatically, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. you yelped at this, and he slammed the door behind you. he let go of you, and you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room.

he loomed over your figure as he approached slowly, looking you up and down.

“hi, petal...” he whispered, sending a shock through your spine,

“hi...” you replied shyly, gulping a bit. he couldn’t help but smile hearing your fragile voice again, as he had missed the simple sound of it these past two weeks.

he noticed your nervousness, and let his fingertip graze across your cheek in an attempt to soothe you, “i’ve missed you...” he cooed, “you left with no reason, darling. i’ve been worried. you haven’t spoken to me, either...”

you felt guilty at his words, but even more guilty for the reasoning.

“s-s-sorry...” you stuttered out, already knowing that he was about to ask you why, “e-embarrassed...”

embarrassed? why?

“why are you embarrassed, love?”

you didn’t know if you should exactly tell him, but you knew he deserved some sort of explanation. you could tell that he was pleading for one just by the look in his eyes.

“what—what we did...”

he frowned a bit at your reply,

“why is that embarrassing?”

you shrugged your shoulders, honestly not understanding the shame.

“it—it was bad...” you muttered, but noticed the shift in neville’s facial features, “not—not bad like that... just—i—well... i don’t know...”

he couldn’t help but to let out a small chuckle from you innocence, as it was somehow still in tact.

“well... is there anything i could do to make you feel less embarrassed? cause—there’s no reason to be, petal. you did—amazing.” he paused before he continued, letting his hand trail down your hip, rubbing small circles into it. “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, petal.”

you looked up at him finally, your sparkling, shy eyes burning into his. your cheeks were on fire from his touch, and you knew that he knew that he had an affect on him.

“i-i-i’m sorry... i’ve just been scared to—bring it up, i suppose. d-d-don’t want to—embarrass you in front of your friends...”

neville didn’t even respond, he simply placed a small kiss on your forehead, and he sent you a small smile.

“you could never do that, petal... you’re too sweet.”

his words made you somehow blush even more, and it was getting to the point where you broke out in a sweat from how heated you were.

“but... i couldn’t help but notice that you were clenching those pretty little thighs of yours together in the common room, earlier...” now, his eyes were dark once more, that sweet boy gone within an instant, “what were you thinking about, bunny?” that’s when those same fingers that rested on your hips came trailing down, and were going up your skirt, making your breath hitch.

“y-y-you...” you responded sheepishly, only wanting to be honest with him. he chuckled, and finally, he pressed his finger up against your clothed bundle of nerves.

you gasped as he did so, “bunny... you’re soaked... how long have you been like this?” he asked teasingly, but the tone in his voice came off as if he was just pitying you.

“i-i’ve been thinking about—you... a lot... ever since—you know...” he hummed in response, letting you know that he wanted you to keep speaking, “i—i tried to—t-t-touch myself the other day... but—i don’t know. it felt... weird...”

even after everything, you were still so innocent. it drove neville absolutely mad.

“petal... you should’ve just came to me. you know i’ll take care of you.” he stated with a smirk etched across his face. his fingers kept rubbing small circles into your panties, making your breath turn shaky and uneven. “do you know how much i’ve missed you?”

you whimpered as moved your panties aside, and ran his finger through your slit,

“please...”

“please what, bunny?”

you were tired of the teasing. you had missed him so fucking much, and you just wanted him to make you feel good again. plus, you simply missed just being around him.

“touch me again. please.”

he kissed your lips softly, but still only continued to tease your pussy with his fingers.

“be patient, petal. i want you to be mine before i make you feel good again...” he admitted, stroking your cheek with his free hand. “would you want that?”

you looked up at him, and could see the pure honestly and adoration in his green eyes. you had never had a boyfriend before, but you didn’t even have to give it a second thought before you nodded your head.

he sent you a genuine smile,

“good. now you’re mine and i can make you feel good whenever you want...”

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader #neville x y/n #neville x you #neville longbottom fluff #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n #neville smut

[multiplefandomsblog]

Nagito, Kokichi and Gundham with a s/o who wears a mask

Desc; S/o is insecure of a large scar on her eye, so they cover it with a prosthetic mask. But someone snatches it off their face. >:(

Btw!!! If you have insecurities about past scars, remember that Nagito, Gundham and Kokichi will always love you no matter what! As well as the other characters from danganronpa >:3 remember to love yourself and all your scars, because you are truly beautiful! And you can’t say otherwise! ùwú

Warnings; tw; insults based off looks/scars, cussing, threatening, very very few sexual comments(there’s like 1)

Nagito

You were walking around the beach with Nagito, hand in hand. You two conversed about random topics, though Nagito mostly talked about hope obviously. As you two talked, you didn’t notice a certain pig-tailed girl make her way towards you. The both of you being too entranced by the other.

As you turned your head to see Hiyoko charging towards you, you were too slow to avoid her gremlin-like hands, Hiyoko was able to snatch your mask off. Your eyes widened in shock at the feeling of your mask being removed, but before you could even feel the air hit your face, Nagito acted quickly. 

He hastily brought you into a hug, gently pressing your face against his shoulder, shielding your scar from view. Personally, Nagito adored your scar, for he loved every part of you.

Despite all his countless compliments and sentiments, he knew how insecure you still were. So he did what he needed to do, for your sake. Feeling a warmth engulf your heart, you teared up at Nagito’s actions. You truly appreciated him.

You stood there in Nagito’s embrace, the embarrassment finally hitting you like a brick shortly after. Oh how you were glad Nagito was there. Nagito curled his arm protectively around your body, “Not cool, Hiyoko-san. What a terrible act of despair.” He shook his head and sighed from disappointment,

“Well it’s okay, your talent isn’t completely wasted. Because you can become a wonderful sacrifice for the other ultimates! Don’t you think?” Nagito spoke with sickly sweet tone, his words becoming louder and more crazed with time. He looked directly into Hiyoko’s panic-stricken irises with his swirled ones as he grinned.

“W-what are you saying? If you’re threatening m-me, I’ll tell the others!” Nagito nodded his head with an inappropriately cheerful smile, “Go ahead! Tell them what you did!” Nagito giggled maniacally, successfully scaring her away. She made a sound of frustration before skittering away like a cockroach. 

Hearing Hiyoko’s footsteps fade away, you slowly relaxed into Nagito’s protective embrace. Nagito slowly calmed down from his previous state as well, relieved that the rat was gone.

He didn’t let go of you until he realized what he was doing, “M-my hope! I’m so sorry, I know you probably didn’t want to hug trash like me-” He tried pulling away but you shoved his body back towards you. “... Thank you.” He let out a small squeak before hesitantly hugging you back. 

He brought his hands up to cup your face, seeing your face properly without your mask. Your eyes widened as you struggled to hide your face from his gaze. But before you could move away he kissed your scar multiple times, leaving you in a daze.

Your face got redder with every kiss he gave you, eventually he stopped right before your lips. “I love every single part of you, especially your scars, so don’t hide them from me.” And he leaned in.

Kokichi

You and Kokichi were playing hide & seek in the school—of course—after an abundant amount of pleading on Kokichi’s side. As soon as you heard Kokichi holler out a, “Ten!”

You started sprinting to the other side of the school; You see, you take hide & seek games very seriously. Well, you decided you’d take hide & seek games seriously ever since Kokichi said that, and I quote, “If you lose, you have to show me your face!”

Why did you take the bet, you ask? Because Kokichi also said, “But if I lose, I’ll wear a maid dress for a week!” And you needed to see him in that dress. So you ran like hell, on your way to the lockers in one of the classrooms. As you ran down the hall, you accidentally bumped into Miu. 

“Hey! Watch it, you piss stained deformed pig!” She yelled out, taking a step back, you looked at her with confusion and anger. “Bitch, excuse-” You cut yourself off as you felt her snatch your mask off your face. “W-what the hell!?”

You yelped as you stumbled back and covered your face with your hand, “Why w-would you do that?” You stuttered out, the vulnerability of your mask off hitting you like a truck. You looked to the ground, not being able to make eye contact with your assaulter, suddenly feeling anxious.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m sure everyone has wanted to see that gross face beneath your mask! I’d be doing them a favour!” She threw her head back, hysterically laughing at you.

You wanted so bad to knock her off her high horse, but she was still holding on to your mask. Since you’ve become overly comfortable with your mask, you weren’t able to function properly without it.

So all you could utter out was a meek, “J-just give it back.” Because of your focus on your mask, you completely forgot about the hide & seek game. Thus, forgetting that Kokichi was probably trying to find you right now.

“Whaaaaaat~? Iruma-san got to see your face before me? S/o-chaaaaaan, that’s not fair.” You shot your head up, making eye contact with a pair of familiar purple eyes. Before quickly looking back down, too ashamed to reveal your face.

Miu’s eyes darted around the room to find the source of the noise, but she couldn't find where it came from. Then, Miu suddenly tensed up, feeling Kokichi’s tight grip on her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, why don’t I rip out your eyeballs so we can say you never saw anything?” Kokichi dug his fingers into her shoulder, eerily grinning up at her. Miu winced and tried to get away from him. Seeing this, Kokichi giggled, “Nishishi!” before leaning beside her ear, “...You have 5 seconds, whore.”

Kokichi’s grin grew impossibly larger, looking as if the edges of his mouth had been split. A lewd cry came out from Miu’s mouth before she freed herself from the boy’s grip. You both watched as she ran down the hall, clutching her groin. Did... did she get aroused from that?

You looked back down and watched Kokichi’s shoes as they slowly approached you. “Hmmm, my turn! My turn!” Kokichi gripped both your wrists, pulling them away from your face. Flinching away from his gaze, you expected him to make a disgusted face or push you away but instead he said,

“Oh c’mon, you don't even look that bad! Maaaaan, I thought you’d look scary. But instead you just look perfectly fuckable! Bummer.” Kokichi huffed out defeatedly, pretending not to notice your face that was becoming redder and redder with every second. “You can’t say things l-like that so e-easily!”

Kokichi smirked at your flustered state, before putting on an innocent facade, “Hey, why are you so nervous, huh? Is it because you like me?” You perked your head up slightly from his guess in panic, oh shit he knows. “Well? Answer the question, dummy!” He playfully leaned in closer to get a reaction out of you.

He tilted his head underneath yours, trying to get you to make eye contact with him. Not being able to avoid his gaze, you shyly looked at him. He grinned when he saw your eyes lock with his, content that you finally looked at him. You flushed underneath his stare, “Ohhh I see.” He exaggerated,

“So you are in love with me.” Before you could refute, Kokichi pecked you quickly on your lips, disallowing you from saying anything else. “W-wha?” Kokichi cackled to himself before running away, “Nishishi! Start counting, S/o-Chan~!” 

Gundham

 You were in the rocket punch market with Gundham, searching the aisles for freeze dried strawberries. You and Gundham wanted to get his hamsters a treat so they can, ‘rise and become the rulers of the island!‘ as the great prince of darkness said.

You looked through the candy aisle, searching for the dried fruit. While skimming your hand through the various plastic packages, you accidentally brushed your hand against Gundham’s. You both pulled away and flushed from the contact. 

You hid your blushing face in your mask, whilst he hid his in his scarf. You both apologized profusely to each other, “S-sorry! I wasn’t watching my hand and-” “S/o, you must’t apologize! It was me who was at fault.” You two kept bickering back and forth, before ultimately reaching a common ground. ‘It was the package’s fault.’ Hiyoko rolled her eyes at your disgustingly adorable ‘argument’.

You two went back to searching for the treat, stealing small glances from each other. God, you guys acted like an oblivious awkward teen couple. Hiyoko watched your dumbasses act like idiots and got sick of it, she just wanted her goddamn gummy bears.

She groaned before barging into your aisle, “You guys are so annoying! Ugh, can’t you and freak-face just go already?” You winced at the insult, feeling that deep pit of insecurity all over again. 

Hiyoko went up to you and smacked your mask off, “For fuck’s sake, why do you even like this nerd? They’re so ugly!” You scrambled to your knees to pick your mask back up. But before you could, she stepped on it.

You whimpered at the broken material, letting your hair cover your face like a curtain. You slowly stood up with one hand on your face, about to leave as Hiyoko said but Gundham quickly grabbed your wrist. 

He faced Hiyoko with a threatening aura surrounding him, “Puto vos esse molestissimos, vacca stulta.” Hiyoko looked at Gundham with scared confusion, “The fuck? A-are you cursing me?” Gundham looked at Hiyoko dead in the eyes before taking another breath, 

“Faciem durum cacantis habes, futue te ipsum!” Hiyoko slowly backed away, feeling chills run up her spine. “I just wanted some damn gummy bears!” Hiyoko wailed before turning on her heels and out the doors. 

Gundham turned to you, checking if you were okay. But instead, you stepped away from him. You didn’t want him to see your scar, you didn’t want him to think you were ugly. “Wait- I- My mask-” You choked up, feeling a panic attack bubble up from your chest.

Gundham looked at you with concern, it pained him to see you in such distress. Grabbing your shoulders, he spoke to you with a strong, confident voice, “S/o. You are the darkest light in my life, I adore every part of you. Your battle scars, your charisma, you. I love you.”

He moved your hair away from your face, and lightly kissed your scar. “Your scar proves how incredible you are, it proves you’ve fought the demons in hell! And that just makes you even more perfect.”

You smiled when you heard him call you perfect, unsure of when someone last called you that. You continued to cry harder, but instead of in pain, you cried from the overwhelming love you had for this man. 

sorry for taking long! and thank you for requesting :)

#mod chia #nagito imagines #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #nagito #super danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa goodbye despair #kokichi x reader #sdr2 komaeda #danganronpa kokichi #kokichi oma #danganronpa v3 #gundham tanaka #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka headcanons #gundham tanaka fluff #gundham tanaka angst #nagito oneshots #nagito fluff #nagito angst #kokichi fluff #kokichi angst

[sweetestlamb]

I've Got You Under My Skin Part 2

Author's note: Can you tell I'm inspired? A double fic post who is she? Dedicated to @serxeins because I know I can always count on you to read and comment and give me some good vibes.

Summary: She's not jealous.

He's not there the next day and it puts her in another foul mood, honestly who was he to invade her life like this and then leave as he pleased? She would be the one to send him away not the other way around, she was the one in control here.

She goes all the way to his house after work to inform him of this, slightly more prepared for his state of dress- he's only wearing a thin white shirt and flowy pants, both made of soft looking cotton.

"No wonder you're still sick. Look at you're wearing." She rolls her eyes at him not waiting to be invited in, he never waits for her and ignores her when she tells him to go away. It's their thing. Blatant disregard.

"That's shaming, that's no way to speak to a sick person. What medical school did you go to?"

"One that taught me to prioritize honesty over niceties."

She has more porridge but it's her mom's recipe the one she used to make when she was feeling sick and it was hard to keep anything down. She had suddenly remembered it the night before and woke up early to prepare it from sensory memory alone, she was hardly a chef but this was the only meal she could make without fail. If her eyes had prickled with instead tears as she stirred the pot that was no one's business but her own. She hadn't been able to make it for years now but for some reason she couldn't stop herself this morning.

"What's this?" He asks curious over her shoulder, his chin barely grazing her skin. She doesn't move away ignoring the thrumming his closeness elicits.

"Porridge."

"It smells good. It doesn't look like grandma's porridge. Where did you get it?"

"I made it." It's embarrassing admitting that she made anything for him, she feels like she's showing her hand far too much but can't get her mouth to stop revealing her heart.

"You're full of surprises. Let's heat it up."

He looks better now, no longer flushed and sweaty. The fever must have broken over night, he looks rejuvenated scooping the food into a pot and warming it up.

His house looks a bit cleaner today as well, the windows are open allowing a wonderful breeze to fill the space and sweep away the stench of sick in the air. She walks aimlessly until she sees a bit of material on the floor, bending to pick it up she glares at the material in her hand. It's a light pink scarf, thin and almost sheer. He has an eclectic style but this is indubitably a woman's scarf, she almost throws it on the ground in a fit.

"What are you doing?" He breaks her from her shock, walking towards her with twin bowls in his hands.

She almost hides the scarf away feeling ashamed of the searing hotness that rips through her chest like a current. But foolishly she swings her hand up presenting the offending item instead, narrowing her eyes as she peers at him.

"What's this?" She challenges, a voice in the back of her mind begs her to shut the fuck up but her anger pushes her forward recklessly.

He tilts his head looking intensely at the item before pursing his lips and answering, "I think it's a scarf."

No fucking shit Sherlock.

She looks at him unimpressed and unamused not quite understanding why she cares so much that there's a scarf- a feminine nother scarf in his house.

"I had a guest earlier. She probably left it." He replies lightly sitting their food down on the table and she follows him briskly still not satisfied with his answers.

"Give me back my porridge." She says childishly snatching away his bowl just as he's about to eat, the look of annoyance on his face brings her nothing but pure joy.

"What's your problem now?" He argues reaching for the bowl but she tugs it further out of his reach. With a long suffering sigh he stands up, stepping closer to retrieve the bowl but that move brings them chest to chest and she stares up at his bright eyes.

Bringing his hands up he touches the scarf in her hand, she drops it abruptly not wanting him to touch it at all now.

"Don't."

He stares at her long and hard, Adam's apple bobbing as their eyes lock. He shakes his head a tight smile on his face now and she wants to kiss that smug look right off his face. Wait.

What. What am I thinking?

The sound of his doorbell chiming breaks them free of this heated staring match, but not immediately he looks at her puzzled and is that something hotter, before slowly turning and walking towards the door.

"Hey, I think I left my scarf--"

A decidedly female voice sounds from the door and before she can second guess herself she grabs the discarded scarf from the ground and sashays over to the door. He looks completely surprised to see her walking over but barely reacts when she barrels next time, pulling the door open wider to see who's here to see them.

It's the new teacher that just moved into town, she hadn't yet been introduced to her but she'd heard nothing but bad things from the landlord. She was supposedly a man stealer.

"Oh! I didn't know you had a guest." The woman's gentle voice lifts in awe at her sudden arrival at the door.

"Here's your scarf." She thrusts the item fiercely at her, watching as the other woman jolts in surprise.

Du-sik looks curiously between the two seeming to feel the weird energy surging in the air.

"Miss Yoon this is--"

"Was that all you needed? We were in the middle of eating. He needs to regain his energy." She cuts him off, having no desire to be introduced to the other woman. The school teacher glances between the two of them being nodding slowly as if realizing something.

"Yes that was all. I'll leave you to your meals."

She watches as the school teacher disappears from sight, turning to walk back to the table.

"That was rude. Do you two have a problem with each other?"

Shrugging non-committally she pushes his porridge back across the space already digging into her own.

"Your meal will get cold. Stop saying nonsense and come eat."

He stares at her for a long time before retaking his seat and tasting the thick broth, she tries not to watch and wait for his reaction but it's probably a failure.

"It's delicious. I can't believe you made this."

Overlooking the backhanded compliment she hides her smile behind her spoon before looking up with a glare, "I'll never make it for you again." But it's an empty threat because she already made three containers worth in case he falls ill again.

"I'll turn off your electricity until you do."

She guffaws at the threat, grabbing the closest thing (a pen) and throwing it at him. It pings off his forehead and falls to the ground.

"Ow. That hurt."

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, no doubt her roommate asking about her whereabouts she had just suddenly disappeared out of nowhere after running out of the office. Swiping to open the phone she prepares for the onslaught of messages.

"---kiss it better."

She freezes at the words, dragging her eyes from the phone back up to his steady gaze. He's staring brazenly seemingly unashamed but the tint of red on his ears give him away, he's not at confident as he's pretending to be.

"What did you say?"

"I.....said you should kiss it better."

She has no clue what he's talking about but instinctively her eyes move down to his lips, blush pink and tempting they stand out on his pale skin. She wonders how they would feel under her own, if they would pucker up and press or bloom open giving her their sweet nectar. She wonders how many women he's kissed and if he's ever thought about kissing her.

"My forehead. I meant my forehead... because of the pen. I was just joking." He looks dazed now, still under her appraising gaze and she coughs swiftly moving her eyes and staring out the window.

"Mi-seon's looking for me. I should go."

Thankfully he doesn't comment on her running away again, he merely nods and collects their bowls.

"Thank you for the meal." She nods in response, her voice lost at the moment terrified of why she keeps coming here, what could she possibly want?

He walks her to the door, both of them dragging their feet and taking their sweet time.

"That was the worst part about not having parents."

She halts at his sudden confession, squeezing her fists tightly as she glances over at him.

"Not having anyone who cared when I was sick. It was never clearer how alone I was until those fleeting moments, there was no one to pat my back or bring me food or tell me I would be okay."

It's an ache she's used up, the ache of wanting something she'll never have. Years spent pretending she didn't miss her mother everyday. His honesty forces her own to the surface.

"That porridge was the one my mom used to make for me. I haven't made it since she...."

She doesn't finish her sentence but the look in his eyes tell her that she doesn't need to, he understands loud and clear.

"Thank you for making it for me. I'm honored." There is reverence in his voice as if he's never meant anything more in his life, it makes her heart tremble.

They don't speak anymore as she puts on her shoes and lays her bag across her body, reaching behind her he tugs the door open for her.

With a solemn nod she turns around ready to leave but a moment of temporary insanity makes her turn back and grab his shoulder for support, there's a look of genuine shock of his face before she leans onto the tips of her toes and presses her lips against his forehead.

Her cheeks are on fire as she draws back and his face looks painful from his red it is.

"You're going to be alright." With her last strand of courage she wraps her arm around and pats him on the back in comfort, his eyes are glossy and he looks years younger.

"I'm going."

She's aching to run but she walks away calmly until she's out of sight, throwing herself to the ground as soon as she turns the corner grabbing handfuls of her hair.

So much for being in control. Fuck.

#hometown cha cha cha #me again #i might be a bit obsessed #y'all know I love a little jelly cee #it gets the blood running #hong du shik #yoon hye jin

[avtrbee]

Unexpected Secret

inspired by the tumblr post above!

this fic defies almost everyhting that is canon but its really cute and fluffy in my opinion so idc idc idc

Petra was furious.

I’m gonna kill her, Petra thought, mopping away the last of the dirt from the stables. I don’t care how but I’m going to make it look like an accident.

Petra was furious.

Putting her anger on the mop she had gripped in her fist she aggressively wiped the stable floors clean, but her thoughts were somewhere else. Y/N L/N was the reason why she was stuck cleaning the stables during a Friday night when she could’ve spent the day in the market with Oluo buying cute clothes or enjoying a new café or getting drunk or just about anything. 

Petra loved her friend but no matter which way Petra tried to twist the situation, Y/N was the sole reason to blame. Y/N was the one who suggested getting drunk in her room that night, Y/N was the one who suggested the game, Y/N was the one who proposed the punishment, and Y/N was the one who called her a pussy for backing out, so of course Petra had to do it. Petra had to run through the hallway, from the stairway and back to the room naked. 

It didn’t help that Y/N’s room was the farthest room from the stairwell. Petra didn’t have a problem getting naked around Y/N and their friends- they’ve seen each other’s bodies enough with the communal showers and the occasional first aid outside the walls. Petra isn’t ashamed of her own body either, she may look petite but she was hardened muscle from all the training she endured to become the one of the best. Though Y/N had her own private room as one of the Survey Corps’ Section Commander, her floor was also near the other superior’s private spaces. 

Once Petra made it out, she dashed to the stairs as fast as she could before turning back and running like there was a titan behind her to the privacy and safety of Y/N’s room. Until Hange, Levi and Mike came out of Erwin’s room from their own private party only to stare at Petra like she was a dog with three heads. 

Petra could’ve died right there. In fact, she would have preferred it if she did. Hange laughed (“Oh, it’s one of those nights, eh?), Levi looked away with disgust evident in his face and walked to another laughing Y/N, who witnessed the entire incident, instead. Mike just stood there with his brain probably short circuiting and nose occasionally twitching. To make matters worse, Erwin came outside to see what Hange was laughing about.

I’m gonna kill her, Petra thought, mopping away the last of the dirt from the stables. I don’t care how but I’m going to make it look like an accident.

Petra looked up from her hard work and wiped her forehead. She smelled like horse shit and probably looked like one too. A few yards away from her clean stable stood Y/N and Eren together under the sun with Mikasa not so far running towards them.

Petra watched as Mikasa hastily put herself between Y/N and Eren with a glare on her face. Was it really a glare or was it just Mikasa’s usual stoic face? Petra didn’t care- a plan was slowly starting to form in her head. 

-

Petra didn’t bother rushing to the cafeteria to get first in line like she usually would. Instead she ate some heavy snacks before and took her time. Thinking back, Y/N was the only one out of her superiors to sit on another table other than the space designated for them. She usually sat with Eren, with Levi occasionally joining them. 

Once she strolled inside, the place was packed with soldiers along with hundreds of conversations going on at the same time. Perfect. Just as she planned. Just as she thought, Y/N and Eren were chatting away alone on one table with Mikasa several tables away shooting them looks every now and then.

Petra smiled. Victory tastes so sweet. She slowed down her steps and savored her way to victory as she walked over to Mikasa. “Oi, Mikasa.” she said obnoxiously loud, gathering the attention of several people.

Mikasa turned her head from Eren and Y/N’s table, and stared at her with her cold gray eyes. “Yes, Petra?”

Petra giggled, unable to keep her mood down. “Y’know, Y/N told me a secret.” She said, voice getting louder with every word.

Behind her, Petra heard Y/N speak. “Done from the stables, darling?”

Faint snickers from around the hall erupted. No doubt the story has already gone around. Petra felt a nerve in her head pop. That almost got her. Almost. 

Ignoring the rest of the people, Mikasa kept her eyes on her. “What did she say?”

She crouched down and put a hand on her cheek like she was about to whisper. “She told me that she loves Eren, very, very much.”

Silence. 

Utter silence. 

From the corner of her eye she sees that Sasha had a spoon halfway through her mouth filled with seconds of today’s dinner, while Jean and Connie’s eyes were darting back and forth to her and Y/N, who had gone up from her seat and was walking towards her.

Petra stood back and let herself smile a truly evil smile. That’s what you get, Y/N. You bitch. To be honest, Y/N was probably going to beat her up. Petra didn’t care. She could try if Mikasa won’t get to her first.

Mikasa blinked. “Well, I sure hope so. Eren and I love her just as much.”

Wait- “What?” 

That wasn’t the reaction she was expecting.

“Oi, oi, Mikasa. You’re going to make your mother cry. I’ve never heard you speak like that before.” Y/N clasped a hand on Petra’s shoulder. Y/N had this smirk as if asking oh is this what you planned?

Huh, wait- “Mother? You mean-”

At the same time, Mikasa looked at Y/N. “Okasan, I have told you I loved you many times.”

“What do you mean okasan- are you-?” Petra turned her head to Y/N. 

Y/N leaned shifted her weight on one leg and crossed her arms. She was smiling, probably enjoying Petra’s confusion. “Yes. I am.”

“But-” Petra stuttered. “Eren too?”

“Yes.” Y/N laughed. Petra should’ve been furious, but at this point she was too focused on solving this familial situation she accidentally uncovered. Plus, everyone was listening in. They were curious too.

Petra shoved her hands in her hair. “They’re siblings?”

“Well, I thought we’ve established that before.” Y/N replied. 

“But I thought- Mikasa was charging at you because you were with Eren just a while ago!” 

Y/N deflated. “Oh, that. I was scolding the brat. He was reckless during the last expedition again. You’d remember, you were the one who saved him.” Fuck. Yes, Petra remembered very well. She almost lost her right hand because of that boy. “Mikasa just came over to protect her brother. I might’ve gone overboard too…”

“Then why isn’t Mikasa sitting with you?”

“Oh, I’ve been encouraging her to interact with people other than family. She barely has friends, y’know.”

“Don’t they have different last names?” Petra asked. She was losing her sanity. 

“What, Jeager? L/N was my dad’s. Jeager my mother’s name, I had him when I was young. And, well, technically, Mikasa isn’t mine by blood.” Y/N sat down beside the girl and slung her arm around Mikasa. “She came with my marriage. She’s still my daughter though.” Petra saw Mikasa hide a smile under her scarf.

“Married?” Petra asked. “You’re married?”

“Yup,” Y/N replied, popping her words. “When are you and Oluo gonna tie the knot, by the way-”

Petra couldn't even be bothered to blush at the question. She saw Oluo choke on his food from their usual table though. “Is he in the military?” 

“Yes. We met years before he was in the military though.”

“Is he in the Survey Corps?”

Y/N grinned. “Yes.”

“Is he a superior officer?”

Y/N’s smile grew wider. “Yes.”

Petra felt dread creep down her spine. “Is it Commander Smith?” If Petra really did just try to call out the commander’s wife in front of everyone, she’s dead meat. She’s probably gonna clean the stables on Fridays forever. 

To her relief Y/N said, “Pssh, Mikasa isn’t blonde y’know.”

Petra was losing her patience. “Then who the fuck is it-”

“They literally have the same last name Petra.”

Silence.

Only this time, Petra wasn’t smiling. Her brain was probably overheated from all the information Y/N gave her.

“Oi, Petra” said Levi who was coming inside the cafeteria. “What the hell is going on?”

“Captain!” She squeaked, not expecting his voice. Perfect timing too. 

“Don’t tease her anymore, Levi. It’s my fault, I was just telling her about our familial situation.” Y/N said. 

“Tch,” Levi lightly slapped Y/N at the back of her head. “What happened to keeping it a secret?” 

“Oh, well, they were bound to know anyway. Your son over there can’t keep his mouth shut, I’m surprised he lasted this long.” Y/N nodded to Eren back to her table while the latter hid his face on the table, occasionally banging his fist on the wood. “Though I didn’t expect them to find out this way though...and the entire Survey Corps for that matter.”

“You’ve caused us a nuisance.” Levi deadpanned at Y/N- at his wife? Petra was still trying to comprehend everything.

“Let’s go home.” Levi announced, heading out of the cafeteria. “I can’t stand to be stared at any longer. It’s making me feel like a pig with fucking wings.”

At the words of their Captain- Father?- Mikasa and Eren stood up and picked up their empty food trays. 

Oh, that's right. Petra knew that Y/N and Levi had a separate house somewhere near their HQ; she just didn’t even consider the possibility that they were living together. Fuck, she has seen them leaving too, but she just assumed that they were walking each other because they lived in the same neighborhood or something. 

Petra even spotted Mikasa and Y/N together in the market shopping for vegetables, but she thought it was only a kind gesture. Y/N can be like that sometimes. She even spotted Eren and Levi inside a cleaning shop when she was buying a new mop once. And Mikasa and Levi’s surnames? Petra didn’t even suspect anything because it was common knowledge in the Corps that two of their strongest soldiers had the same last name- had none of them suspected anything?

Looking around, Petra spotted similar confused faces like her own. Ah, so no one did. 

She felt her legs give up on her and plopped on the seat Mikasa previously sat on. She watched as Levi, Y/N, and their children walked out the cafeteria with a blank stare. What the fuck just happened? 

btww,,,the vibe of reader and petra here are like really close friends that tease each other a lot. i can understand why people think that petra seems like the “villain” here but i swear its just that kind of friendship 😭 im sorry if it didnt deliver properly but ill try better next time !!

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk levi #levi ackerman

[buckysgoldenheart]

The B****, The Favorite, His Sister & Her Lover

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is in love with you, but you have been avoiding him for a month and you are forced to face the repercussions of your actions when your brother brings him to family dinner. (Fluffy, sorta smutty)

Words: 4979 (Sorry ☹, but I hope you like it if you decide it’s not too long).

All you wanted, well, not wanted, but all you planned for was a simple, hopefully non-stressful dinner where your mother made her lasagna and your brother eased her not-so-innocent attacks on you with his charming personality. It was a Friday. Friday’s were supposed to be relaxing, and if you could ignore the ‘subtle’ digs at your lack of relationship you might even consider it a win.

You sat at the counter, sipping at wine as your small mother slid her lasagna into the oven with two large, rose-printed oven mitts. What should have been a simple task ended up as your mother spending an entire minute adjusting and readjusting the pan until it was dead center on the rack.

“You’re letting all the heat out, mom.”

Her nearly entirely gray-haired head was practically in the oven when she said, “It has to be perfect or it won’t bake evenly, Y/N. If you ever cooked, you would know that. Men like when a woman can cook, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of the dark reddish-purple liquid when the doorbell rang. Fucking finally, you thought, Brother dearest to the rescue. You actually loved Johnny almost more than anyone. He was your best friend, and without a doubt, you could show up at his apartment asking for help hiding a body and he would drop everything to google the best place to do it.

Probably a little too eagerly, you set your glass down, jogged to the small foyer, and whipped open the door. “Damn it, Johnny, you’re late. Mom is—”

Your body froze. Johnny was smiling wide, holding up a bottle of gin in his hand and waving it at you like a prize, standing next to the one man you had been trying to avoid for the better half of a month. You closed your parted lips and slid your tongue over them to wet the sudden dryness.

“Where’s mom?” Johnny asked.

You nodded your head in the direction of the kitchen. “Where else?”

You brother slipped by you, disappearing around the corner as he called for your mother. A sharp squeal echoed through the halls a moment later, your mother’s high-pitched tone crying ‘my baby boy,’ over and over.

Looking at the man before you: the blue eyes, the dark brown hair, the plump lips with an uneasy smile, you tried to look welcoming. You were sure you failed miserably, but who could blame you. Avoiding him had been going so well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You swallowed. “Hi…Henry.” Awkwardly, you opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side. He cleared his throat and brushed passed you, the toned chest you had tried to forget rubbing up against your breasts. “Just, um…” You pointed in the direction of the kitchen before you realized it would just be better for him to follow you. “Follow me.”

When you saw Johnny playfully twirling your mother around to music he had turned on at some point, you internally groaned. He really was the perfect son. Perfect enough to make up for your lack of achievements. Johnny paused, large grin still in place when he saw you and Henry.

“Mom,” He said, gesturing a hand your way, “This is Henry, a good friend. We work together.”

Her eyes brightened even more at the sight of him. Tall, broad, sexy; the perfect potential suitor for her pathetic daughter. You just prayed she could keep her mouth shut for a single night.

“Henry,” She said, taking his hand in hers. “So lovely to meet you. Please, take a seat. What would you like to drink? I can get you anything.”

Henry looked anxious at the sudden onslaught of attention. You knew the feeling, though it was often directed your way in a more negative manner. Before Henry could respond, your brother set a glass of bourbon in front of him to which he responded with a nod, a smile, and a ‘thank you.’

The scene in front of you was more and more beginning to feel like an episode of The Twilight Zone. Henry was sitting at the kitchen counter of your childhood home with a drink in his hand, chatting with your mother and brother like it wasn’t weird. He looked misplaced. He was too big for the room. His shoulders were massive, and he was so, so tall, and there was something about it that had you panicking.

“Johnny!” Your brother looked your way. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked to your old bedroom. You shut the door with an annoyed huff once your bother’s body was barely on your side of it. He observed the room as if he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before then winced when he met your eyes, having run out of places to look. “Oh, don’t give me that.”

You crossed your arms. “What the fuck is he doing here!”

“He said he was going to be alone for the weekend and when I told him I was going home for the night, I offered for him to come.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoffed. “And why would he accept that thrilling proposal?”

Johnny chucked and rubbed the back of his neck. “Funny thing—”

“Oh, is it?”

“I may have told him you were coming, too…”

“Is that so?” You said a little louder.

Your brother shrugged and sighed. “Look, Y/N, he loves you…a lot. I barely mentioned your name before he started to pack his overnight bag.” He chuckled at the memory. “Personally, I don’t get it. I never really felt like you outgrew that mousy, awkward phase, but I guess he sees passed that.”

Groaning, you grabbed a pillow off your bed and threw it at his head. “Johnny!”

He tossed the pillow back at you and you swatted it away. “He’s a good guy, Y/N. You could do worse. He could probably do better, but he did spend the entire drive here unashamedly asking about you, so he must think otherwise.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m the best and you love me.” Johnny walked to you and threw and arm over your shoulders. “Now, come on. We’ve left him alone with our mother. No one deserves that.”

----------

“Oh, I did see that…” Your mother snapped her fingers. “Oh, what was it? Uncle something, the uncle man, no that’s not it, uncle—”

“The Man from U.N.C.L.E,” Henry finished for her.

“Yes!” She smiled triumphantly as if she had come to answer on her own. “I quite enjoyed that one.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“My son says you’re Superman as well. Is that so?”

“Mom,” Your brother interrupted as he dragged you back in the room. “Leave Henry alone, alright? He gets questioned all the time. He doesn’t need it from us.”

Your mother swatted a hand. “Oh, nonsense. How am I supposed to get to know Henry here if I don’t ask questions?”

“Are you interviewing him for something?”

As she donned the oven mitts again, bent down, and pulled dinner out of the oven, your mother winked. “Maybe…”

You let out a quiet whimper, grabbed your glass, and downed the rest of your wine in half a second. Johnny nodded your way and handed you the bottle. You nodded back in appreciation and refilled your glass a little more than socially acceptable.  

“Ok, now, everyone at the table,” You mother announced.

----------

The lasagna was annoyingly delicious, but the conversation ruined it. You were definitely buzzed by now, trying to scarf down the last of your food. Maybe you could feign illness and dip out before dessert. The two hour drive back to your apartment at nine p.m., tipsy or not, sounded exponentially better than staying the night like you usually did. If only it weren’t illegal and didn’t mean potentially harming yourself or someone else. Johnny watched you sympathetically, so very clearly understanding your discomfort, until your mother drew his attention at the mention of his name.

“John has a girlfriend,” She said to Henry, then looked at her son. “Where is Margaret, Johnny?”

“Business trip,” He replied. When she raised her eyebrows, undoubtedly impressed that her son found a woman important enough to be needed around the world, Johnny elaborated. “Paris this month. She is collaborating with some famous designer out there.”

“She is so smart and beautiful, very driven. It’s extremely impressive. You must be so proud of her.”

Johnny smiled at the thought of his girlfriend. He did love her in a way he’d never loved any other and you knew how hard it was for him when she was gone, so you reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I am proud of her. I am, um…I’m actually going to ask her to marry me when she gets back.”

Your mother squealed and practically jumped out of her seat. “Oh, my goodness!” Then, she actually stood and trotted over to her son, wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head. Henry met your eyes as you averted them from the spectacle that was your mother, seeming to be examining every feature of your face with an undetermined expression. You wanted to look away but found yourself unable. His stare reminded you too much of the last time you saw him. The way he had studied you then, it made you melt. It was as if he was trying to figure you out, like he thought you were some kind of otherworldly being with a uniqueness he couldn’t quite find the words to describe.

You watched as his lips slowly parted and your thoughts turned dark. You mother would be ashamed, but she quickly stopped them as she fawned more over your brother. “I’ll have grandchildren in no time!” She placed on last peck on your bother’s cheek before taking her seat again, folding her napkin back over her lap. “Henry, have you met Margaret?”

Henry’s eyes finally left your face. “I have actually.”

“Oh, isn’t she absolutely lovely? Just perfect for my Johnny. I wish Y/N would find someone.”

“Mom,” You and Johnny said at the same time. Here we go. But your mother ignored your protests.

“Someone like you, Henry,” She continued and rested her hand on his forearm. “You would be perfect. You are so charming and sweet and handsome; you’d be good for her. Y/N has a horrible history with men, absolute buffoons. They never treat her right. They never love her.”

“Mom!” Johnny shouted, thankfully trying to protect you, because with each word that passed your mother’s lips, you lost the will to protect yourself.

“But a man like you—”

The sound of your chair skidding across the hardwood drowned out any other noise. You stood, threw your napkin down and, without a word or glance at anyone at the table, left for your room.

Johnny blew out a breath and shook his head. “Mom…”

Her eyebrows rose and she shrugged, her hands out in question like a small child when asked where the last of the cookies went. “What?”

“You need to lay off. Honestly. Give her a break.”

That surprised look on her face quickly shifted. “Oh, please, John. She knows I mean well. When I find her a man, she will thank me.”

“Will she?” Your brother’s lips thinned out. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Henry dabbed his mouth with his napkin and stood. “No. I’ll go,” He said, but paused when your mother put her small hand on his arm again.

“Oh, Henry, dear, you don’t have to deal with her.”

“No, mom,” Johnny interjected. “Let Henry go. I’ll stay and help you with the dishes. I think dinner is over.”

----------

The knock at your door had you groaning. You didn’t want to see anyone, not even Johnny. There was nothing he could say to make it better, to make the entire night disappear as if it never happened. All you wanted to do was lay back in your bed and stare at the little glow stars you had stuck on your ceiling when you were five. If you turned off your bedside lamp, they would shine that bright alien-green color that once had you wishing you could live with some wild, extra-terrestrial being instead of your own mother. But then the door pounded again.

“Not now, Johnny.”

You thought your simple, aggravated tone was enough to persuade anyone to leave you alone, until a moment later when the door eased open. “Not Johnny,” Henry said, and your heart skipped a beat. “Can we talk?”

Keeping your eyes on the little ceiling stars, you said, “I swear to god, if this is about my mom—”

“It’s not.”

“If it’s about the other thing, then the answer is still no.”

Henry quietly groaned, shut the door, and stepped to the side of the bed. The room was suddenly warmer as you met his eyes, and he nudged your legs to the side so he could sit. “Why not?”

You took a deep breath and scooted your body up until your back was against the wall. He still looked at you; determined, you realized. He wanted what he wanted, and he clearly had no plans to leave without answers. “That was an accid—”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “It was.”

He rose a perfect eyebrow. “How so? Neither of us were drunk, we both wanted it. You told me—”

“I know what I told you.”

Henry nodded and swallowed, his eyes darting to the floor for a second before back to you. “Were you lying to me then?”

‘No,’ You wanted to say, but somehow, your lips could not form the word. Though even if they could, you weren’t sure any sound would come out.

“Tell me, how does it happen that two people can admit their feelings for one another, sleep together, and then one of those people decides to leave in the middle of the night and start avoiding the other.”

“Didn’t I just say—”

“Yea, well, I want to talk about it,” he interrupted you, and you didn’t miss the irritation starting to seep into that delectably deep voice of his.

The look on his face had you wishing you could rip out your own stomach to avoid the nausea it induced. At least I feel guilty, you thought. You could be one of those people who lies to get in someone pants and then avoids them. You didn’t lie, so there would always be that.

“Why did you leave?” He asked.

You didn’t even know. Was there actually a single reason, or where there so many little reasons that you couldn’t pinpoint one in particular. Either way, you couldn’t explain. You knew what you felt for him. You knew it scared you, and that you didn’t want to hurt him. But how do you make a stupid choice like unwrapping his arms from your body in the middle of the night while he sleeps so you could leave, and then ever be able to look him in the eye again. You weren’t strong enough for that, not when it came to him. He made you feel amazing and beautiful and loved, and you threw it back in his face.

“Y/N—”

“Can we please not do this,” You whispered.

“No, we are doing this,” Henry said, standing sharply. “We are definitely doing this.”

You stood as well, willing yourself to be as tall as him. At least then it would be fair, but he was inches above you, and you didn’t possess the magical abilities to make yourself grow after the age of 15, so… “Henry—”

He stared you down, stepping to you and forcing you back until your spine met the wall. “Just answer the damn question, Y/N. Is what you said to me a lie?”

“I…I’m…I don’t—” You stammered and, though tried to hold your ground, couldn’t stop yourself from looking away and to the tacky, blue carpet flooring. But Henry wasn’t having it. He crooked a finger under your chin and lifted until you had no choice other than to gaze into the ocean blue of his eyes and at the small brown island in the left one.

“Do you love me or not?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You wanted to say something, you had to, he wouldn’t wait forever, but—

“Yes or no, Y/N.”

…He wouldn’t wait forever…

“Yes or--”

“Yes.”

In the same breath, he cupped your cheeks and put his lips on yours. Tasting him again sent shocks through every nerve of your body. It felt like your first sip of water after surviving days without; like the feeling of sunshine on your skin after being trapped so long in the darkness you lost track of time. It felt as if his kiss held inside it everything you needed to finally be free. No more denial, no more loneliness or fear, no more avoiding him because he clearly wasn’t going to let that happen for one more minute.

When you finally gave in and parted your lips for him, Henry groaned. His tongue on yours created a fire that burst inside of you and soothed the chills his touch created, and before you had time to process another thought, you were pushing him back to your bed and straddling his lap. Warm hands traveled up and down your back until the moan you made at the feeling of his hard on pressing to your core had him wrapping his arms tight around your waist. So tight, you were not sure how you could still breathe.

You sneaked your hand between your bodies and worked to unbuckle the belt around his hips, but he pulled back just as you yanked it from the loops and tossed it to the side. You searched his eyes for any reason he may have stopped you, but all you saw was love. He reached up and brushed a stray hair behind your ear, then caressed your cheek and stroked along your cheekbone with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.

Henry smiled to slightest. “I love you.”

“…Still?” You looked away from him in embarrassment. “Even after avoiding you for a month?”

“Yes, still,” He chuckled. “Even after that.”

You let out a little whimper and touched your forehead to his. “I don’t know how you could.”

“Because it’s you, baby.” He put a hand on the back of your neck and pecked your lips once, twice. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You lifted your head from his and he smiled, glancing at your lips before meeting your eyes. “How long?”

“Since your brother brought you to the Fallout wrap party.”

“Henry…”

“I know. I should’ve told you a long time ago, way before last month.” With one hand, he threaded his fingers through your hair. The other started to rub up and down your thigh.

He nudged his nose against yours and before he could kiss you again, you whispered, “I love you.”

Your words made him contentedly hum from deep in his chest, then he placed his lips on yours again, your bottom one between his two. He sucked on it and softly nibbled, and you slid your hands up his chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck. Grinding your hips down forced a groan from Henry as he went for the button of his jeans.

Your lips separated for a moment so you could hike up your skirt, and before he could, you slipped your fingers inside his pants and pulled out his cock, grasping it in your warm hand. His lips parted at your touch, his eyes staring hard into yours as you lifted up, tugged your panties to the side, and started to ease yourself onto him. His cock parted your folds and stretched you so deliciously wide that the familiar string from his size had you gasping.

“Oh, God,” Henry sucked in a breath, sheathed fully inside you. “So good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, lost for words. Nothing could describe the feeling of him inside you. He filled you the way no man ever could, in more ways than one. Every hollow part of you he sated; your body, your heart, your mind, all brought to peace just by being with him. How you let your fear get in the way of this for an entire month, you couldn’t understand. But as he held you so close nothing could get between your bodies, you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind and started to rock your hips back and forth on his lap.

----------

“That is a lot of stars,” Henry said as you laid back in the bed and stared up at your ceiling, his arms still wrapped around you. He hadn’t let you go, even for a second. From the moment you said ‘yes’ to his question, his hands remained on your body, his skin always touching yours.

“I like space.”

“I know,” He chuckled, then pulled you on top of him. You overlapped your hands on his chest and rested your chin on them.

“Oh yea?”

“Mhm. I know an awful lot about you. I’ve been paying attention for a while.”

“I know things about you, too.”

“Oh yea?” He asked, mimicking you with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“I know that you’re obsessed with video games, you like to cook and you’re actually good at it, you want a family, and you love Kal more than anyone.”

“Almost more than anyone.” He smiled at you and brushed a knuckle down your cheek. “Don’t tell him though.”

You giggled but continued. “I know that you are supportive and determined and you always go after what you want--”

“Like I did with you.”

“—And there is no one in the world like you. You make me feel safe…and loved.”

He leaned closer and you rose to meet his lips. “You’re all I want.”

The corners of your mouth crooked up, but a moment later they fell and you sat up in fear. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“We’ve been in here,” You paused to check the small alarm clock on your bedside table, “For an hour.” Standing quickly, you looked around, wildly searching for your underwear that Henry had yanked down your legs at some point and tossed to God knows where.

He hopped up and threw his shirt over his head. When you handed him his belt, he nodded and thanked you with a smile before he began to slip it through the loops.

You sighed in relief when you found the dark blue lacy panties and pulled them up your legs. “My mother is gonna lose it. I bet the only reason she hasn’t barged in here is because of Johnny.” You ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking for garments and hurriedly clothing yourself. When you passed in front of Henry, he grabbed your arm.

“Babe,” He said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

----------

You stepped down the stairs and casually rounded the corner into the living room as if you hadn’t just had sex twice, to see Johnny sitting in one of two brown leather armchairs, sipping his gin and tonic. Your brother smirked when he saw your somewhat disheveled appearance, with Henry behind you, one of his large hands on your hip.

“Hey, sis.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start. Where’s mom?”

He nodded his head to the couch you hadn’t bothered to glace at yet, where your mother’s body draped along it like a rag doll, a glint of drool at the corner of her mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Mom still cannot hold her booze.” He stood and watched your mother as she let out a loud snore. “Don’t worry, she didn’t hear you. She was too busy ranting about your lack of love life.” You swallowed and Johnny walked up to you. Raising one eyebrow, he looked between you and Henry, then took a gulp of the clear liquid in his glass. “The irony, huh?”

Before you could say a word, your brother slipped by you and patted Henry a few times on the shoulder. “Oh, and you’re free to go home,” Johnny called from the kitchen. “I have a feeling you’d both rather spend your night…well, not here, and I can look after our dear mother. You can thank me tomorrow.” He chuckled.

Henry looked down at you and smiled softly. “We can stay if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” You snickered. “Just give me a minute, then we can go.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll go wait by the car. Tell Johnny I’ll see him Monday, yea?”

You nodded and as Henry left out the front door, you made your way down the tiled hallway that led to the kitchen. You found your brother sitting at the counter and typing on his phone with a smile.

“Margaret?” You asked.

Johnny placed his phone back on the counter and took a swig of gin straight from the bottle. “Yea.”

“How is she?”

“Good. She’s doing really well out there.” He smiled, though halfheartedly, and went for the fridge to pull out your mother’s devil’s food cake. Grabbing a fork, he walked back to the counter, put the cake in the center and dug right into the side of it. You stared as he devoured bite after bite. If it were you, you would have surely faced the wrath of the small, plump woman passed out in the next room, but Johnny ate without a care in the world. “I fucking miss her.”

You picked at a fingernail as you asked, “Is it awful…to have someone you love hours away from you for weeks at a time?” You hated to see your brother miss his girlfriend so much his insides hurt, and you had no desire to be in the same situation.

“Not as awful as it probably sounds. It would be easier with you and Henry, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He gave you an amused look that only barely masked his own pain.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he and I have to go wherever the production companies take The Witcher, but you can travel freely with your job and, believe me, he’ll take you everywhere he’s filming as long as you say yes. He also might try to superglue you to his side though, so watch out for that.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, trying to not smile as much as your brother’s words were begging you to, then forced it down with a swallow. “Johnny…” He hummed, and when you didn’t continue, he turned his head to look at you. “Thank you. I don’t know that I would’ve talked to him again if you hadn’t brought him here. I would’ve tried to forget about it, and him.”

Johnny smirked as he poked at the cake with his fork. “Nah, Henry wouldn’t have let that happen. He’s, like, an idiot for you, but a very…determined idiot.”

“Really?”

“Oh, baby sister, you have no idea.” He rubbed up and down the side of your arm the way he used to as kids in high school when he thought you were being a little too naïve for your own good. “But I’ll tell you all about the nauseatingly, sappy whining he did over you another time.”

That was a story you were sure Henry would try to keep as far away from you as possible and the thought made you smile. The close friends he probably told, or ‘whined’ to, as your brother said, would undoubtedly have a ball trying to recount every detail just to see how red Henry’s cheeks could get.

You wrapped your arms around Johnny from the side, your head just meeting his shoulder, and squeezed. He wiggled his arm out of your tight hold to tuck you into his side then kissed your forehead.

“I love you,” You said.

“I know.”

-----------

Seeing Henry leaning against your car, patiently waiting for you, made something in your chest lighten. He didn’t seem bored or annoyed or itching to rush you along, but just content to stay in that one spot until you were ready to go. You’d never had that before: a man who didn’t force you to follow every minute of his schedule, who didn’t make you feel like you could never be an inconvenience without consequences, who didn’t hold you down by the boulder on your chest, suffocating you until you complied. It made you appreciate what it meant to be able to inhale and exhale for more than just the need to keep your body from dying. It gave you the chance to see that there are two types of breathing: There’s the breathing that keeps you alive, and there’s the breathing that keeps you sane. Henry allowed you to have both, and it took the smallest of gestures to give you that relief.

He smiled bright when he saw you striding over the front yard grass to him and took your hands in his once you were within reach. “You ready?”

You nodded and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent you memorized a year ago. “Yours or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“If we go to yours, we can be having sex sooner. Mine’s an extra fifteen away,” You said and looked up at him.

“Mine it is.” He winked and then kissed you.

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

tags: Perm (let me know if you want on or off the list. Idk who prefers to be on what list anymore now that I have two.) @dugan365​ @moonlightimagination​ @pietrotheavenger​ @marvel-fanfiction​ @hawkeyeharrington​ @dani-si​ @wintersoldier98​ @then-there-was-me-emily​ @prxttybirdz​ @xceafh​ @jazzwoman897​ @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999​ @ufffg​ @debra77​ @rebelliouscat​ @anise-d-castle6​ @projectxhappiness​ @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​ @lowkeysebby​ @quotemeow @notmyfault404​ @jjamesbbarness​ @guera31​ @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @lokilvrr​ @sunshine-seven​ @agniavateira​

#henry #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fics #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfics #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill one shot #superman #captain syverson #clark kent #august walker #walter marshall #henry au #henry cavill au #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry smut #henry fluff

[liquorisce]

High School Years, Ch 3: aftermath.

pairing: eren x mikasa (SnK)

rating: M. (nsfw)

Summary: for eren and mikasa, love was easy; they'd loved each other forever. but physical attraction? that's a whole other story.

read on ao3 | chap 2 | chap 1

The morning after the… “confrontation”, when they walk to school, they hold hands. It's a new dimension of their ‘relationship’, and the thought of calling it that, of calling Eren her ‘boyfriend,’ is something that makes her feel so many things.

“So um,” she begins, squeezing his hand a little bit, soft pink dusting her cheeks, as he turns to look at her questioningly. “... Are we going to tell the gang?”

For the briefest moment he looks confused, but when he sees her shy expression, not spelling it out because she doesn’t know how to say it yet, his eyes widen in understanding. “Ah that you and I...,” he colours, just a little bit, because it wasn’t until the words were literally at the tip of his tongue, that he realizes he doesn’t know how to say it either.

She’d said it last night, called him her boyfriend, and it did things to him, making his heart constrict with a nervous kind of excitement. Because he was Mikasa’s boyfriend, and that was something of an honour.

But another part of him, the part that recognizes what it means for a high school kid, just finds it completely lacking, he doesn’t want to announce that he’s ‘dating’ Mikasa Ackerman, the word simply does not do it justice. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to hear her name in the gossip rings, from the mouths of shallow, boring girls who have little better to do than keep track of their high school reality show or from the dirty whispers of teenage boys who can’t control their hormones (if Eren is one of them, he doesn’t acknowledge it).

“... Maybe we could just keep it quiet? Just for a little while…” He watches her expressions searchingly, and she does that thing that she does, hides into her bangs when she doesn’t want him to see what she’s thinking and he panics, just a little.

“Hey, listen,” he stops her by the wrist, before they round the corner onto the street of their school.  “... It’s not that I want to hide it,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers, because god forbid she thinks he’s embarrassed or ashamed or anything short of absolutely ecstatic, “You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes and she lets the waves of insecurity pass her by. Surely, there was nothing more to worry about. He’d made no secret of the depth of his feelings last night. “Mm-hmm.” She feels his minty breath cool on her lower lip and she reaches up to press her mouth against his. It’s tentative, the way she does it, reserved and shy but completely incomparable. It’s like everything she does, he thinks breathlessly, as he deepens the kiss. There’s no one like her.

She threads her hands into his already messed up hair, breathing harshly as she breaks away from his kiss. “I don’t mind,” she agrees, “... I think I’d like it to be just between us for a while…”

And because he’s so grateful that he’s in love with his best damn friend, who knows him and understands him like nobody else, he kisses her again… just because he can.

…

They know. He doesn’t know how they know, but they fucking know, and he mutters unhappily under his breath, “... fucking vultures, the whole lot of them.”

Armin smirks, not unsympathetically. They’d mutually decided to tell him (rather, he spotted them holding hands, and he’d almost cried in happiness), even though Eren had been somewhat sour about it, sulking when Mikasa had pointed out that they obviously needed to tell Armin. Eren was a brat, and a jealous one, especially where Mikasa was concerned, so despite having ample proof by now that the kiss between Armin and her had meant nothing, it remained a sore topic for him.

“Isn’t it easier this way? At least now you won’t have to stare down all the boys queuing up to ask for her number in the cafeteria.”

“... That’s not the point,” Eren sulks, even though he knows Armin has a point (he always does), the phenomenon he’d described was a canonical and frequent event that he actively loathes, because Mikasa was quite free with her personal details that way.

( It’s high school, Eren , she’d told him exasperatedly one day when he’d actually brought it up to her, if I don’t give them my number they’ll get it from someone else anyway. Besides, the block functionality is quite useful .)

Somehow Eren is fairly certain that knowing she was in a relationship wouldn’t be enough to deter potential suitors (/ fanboys) and as they walk towards their class, he spots the best example of this crass behaviour in none other than his horse faced friend chatting up his girlfriend, who seemed to be fairly liberal with her smiles.

Armin watches the scene from right next to him and snorts, barely able to contain his laughter. “... You’re so transparent, Eren.”

“Clearly the news hasn’t reached everyone,” he clears his throat, tearing his gaze away from the beauty and the beast, trying his best to remain civil and not scare his girlfriend away in less than 24 hours of them being, you know, together .

“This is what you wanted,” Armin reminds him, clapping his shoulder sportingly, barely able to contain his grin.

…

She tugs nervously at her hair, feeling ridiculously exposed despite the fluffy maroon scarf around her neck. She hadn’t been prepared for the events of yesterday, be it the emotional confession, or the heated kisses, or the possessive nips at her neck.

She certainly wasn’t prepared for the self consciousness that came with the marks he left on her, and had absolutely no knowledge of the make up skills required to cover it. (It hadn’t helped that it had taken Armin less than two minutes to spot the hickeys.)

But what she was least prepared for, is how almost everyone seemed to know, without her even having to open her mouth, and how they all seemed to have an opinion.

… Aw, but I was really counting on him getting back together with Krista… they were so cute…

… I wonder how long he’ll stay with this one…

… wait, Mikasa Ackerman? Aren’t they like practically siblings or something? Ewwww~

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to gag, or if she wanted to hide… or both.

She doesn’t hide. Because Mikasa Ackerman is a class act and despite feeling completely torn up listening to bitchy people talk about her like she does not possess hearing, she goes through the day looking outwardly untouchable.

But after trudging through the entire day of listening to absolute bullshit rumours and whispering, she’s pretty sure she feels a migraine incoming. Groaning to herself, as she takes out her notebook from her locker, she finds herself face to face with a chirpy voice that she once hated.

“... Hey,” Krista says, with a small smile. “... rough day, huh.”

Mikasa nods, it’s not that she dislikes the cute blonde in front of her (not too much, anyway), it’s just that today was not the day she wants to be visually reminded of her existence. Because watching her, in her white miniskirt and pink sweater, perfect blonde hair and her perfect smile, is reminiscent of all the days she hid in her room with only her insecurity for company.

“So um,” Krista begins, because Mikasa can be comfortable in her silence, just looking at Krista questioningly. “... Everyone’s talking about it, basically,” she blurts out, unable to help herself.

“And if you want to know whom to smack, it’s Hitch, because she says she saw you guys holding hands outside school and making out, and she snapchatted it to the whole world, because that’s what she does and,” - Mikasa’s eyes narrow and Krista takes a deep breath.

“Look, I just wanted to reach out, and you know,” she clears her throat, like it was obvious what she was doing here. Mikasa just looks blank, feels blank. “... Like, I don’t want it to be awkward or anything, between us,” Mikasa is genuinely confused at this point, because there didn’t have to be an us, between her and Krista, their social circles were comfortably distant enough to have as minimal interaction as possible. “... You seem like a great person, and honestly, I’m not even surprised you guys ended up together. It was just a matter of time, I guess.”

She smiles earnestly as she says this, and Mikasa finds herself liking the short blonde despite herself, and offers a smile back. “... Thanks, that’s sweet of you.”

“And um,” Krista offers, completely casually, “... I could lend you some concealer if you wanna… you know, cover that up.”

…

“Snapchat!” Sasha wails theatrically, “... I can’t believe this is what our friendship has boiled down to.”

Mikasa has the grace to look guilty. “Explain to me, bestie ,” Sasha can be quite scary when she has her manic face on, “why, I had to receive a snap from the school’s number one hoe, informing me of the fact that my best friend had finally hooked up with her absolute thirst trap of a roommate.”

She doesn’t have much to say to defend herself, she simply slinks lower into her seat. “... I’ll buy you lunch for a week,” Mikasa whispers, defeated.

“Oh you better,” Sasha declares, still fuming. “... Snapchat, are you fucking kidding me…” She turns around once more, sizing Mikasa up deliberately. “... What about that time I walked in on you guys, in the kitchen, and he didn’t have a shirt on?” Sasha narrows her eyes accusingly. “... Were you two already…? Did you lie to me back then?”

“No! God, no,” Mikasa vaguely wonders why she sounds so defensive and apologetic about her own love life, but she remembers that Sasha is upset and for what it’s worth, she loves her like a sister, so she says, “... I swear, there was nothing between us then. It only happened, like… last night.”

Mikasa blushes as she says it, and the twinkle returns to Sasha’s brown eyes. “You must tell me everything,” she commands, and despite her sighing and blushing and giggling, Mikasa does exactly that.

...

He waits for her as they walk back from school. This is new too. Well not entirely, they’d walk back together, the three of them, Him, Mikasa and Armin, everyday in middle school, but high school had brought them different routines, and a distance that he was happy to get rid of.

“So…” he says as he slips his fingers between hers. “So much for our plan to keep it quiet.”

She burrows her head into his arm, “... everyone knew. Literally everyone.” After a minute, she adds reproachfully, “The hickeys you left on my neck didn’t help, either.”

He grins despite the glare she gives him. Embarrassing or not, he didn’t regret it one bit, not the moments that led up to those anyway... the way she’d found herself on his lap, fitting so perfectly in his arms, and against his mouth. The way she’d gasped when he’d let himself explore the sensitive skin on her neck.

He understands her situation, but god, there was no way he’d apologize for the sheer sensation he’d felt in that moment.

Tugging at her scarf to see his own handiwork, he can’t help his disappointment when he sees only a faint outline of them on her pretty skin. “... I see you’ve covered them up.”

“Ah,” Mikasa grins, “... that was your ex, actually.”

She feels him still, letting go of her hand for a brief moment. “... What?” Eren blinks nervously. They don’t really talk about his ex, not much more than they did yesterday anyway, and he wishes they’d never have to, not now that he knows perfectly well how much it had hurt Mikasa.

“You… um, spoke to her today?”

Mikasa nods, “... She came by to say hello, yeah.” And because Eren looks extremely uncomfortable at the thought, she giggles and tells him, “She says she didn’t want things to be awkward between us.”

Eren groans, “... this sounds like the teaser to every high school drama ever.” But despite his sarcasm, he was worried because despite Mikasa’s unassuming popularity in school, she lived her life outside of the cliques, the gossip rings, the drama… and Krista, sweet that she was, was somehow always in the thick of it.

“Don’t worry,” Mikasa says sweetly, “... if you want me to tell you that we had a catfight over you, prepare for disappointment.”

He grins in relief and asks, “... Is it so wrong to indulge in the fantasy of you fighting with another girl over me?” And because he can’t help himself, he adds, “You’d win for sure, Mikasa.”

…

As long as she can remember, Mikasa had been in love with Eren. It wasn’t complicated, or confusing for her, she’d loved him and she’d always known it.

When she was younger she had less trouble expressing it, they played together all the time, and she shared her toys with him, her sweets, and promised his mom she would take care of him when he got into trouble.

During her darkest days (after losing her parents), he would look after her, keep an eye out for her, tuck her in sometimes and sleep by her side when she had nightmares. Back then it was easier to ask for his attention - Eren could you stay with me, she remembers her 12 year old self asking, sniffling in the night, with no inhibitions, just a young girl asking for comfort from the boy she shared everything with.

(He’d given her everything she asked for graciously, fussing over her in his own way, watching over her even when she didn’t notice.)

It’s the ‘how’ that increased in complexity, the way she wanted more and more as the years went by, until the point where her love for him was a complete stranger. It was frustrating when she first realized it, when she realized she looked at him more often than usual… when she realized she wanted him to look at her too.

Growing up they’d watch movies together, and she’d often wonder about the way the hero kissed the heroine at the end of the movie, and wondered if someday Eren would kiss her like that. Most of all she wondered if Eren thought about it too.

When he started dating, that became amply clear to her - he thought of kissing, and to her unfortunate attention, it became clear that he thought of much more too. Those months were incredibly difficult for Mikasa because not only did she have to go through life like nothing had changed - ostensibly nothing had, not between them - but she had to police every indiscrete thought when he walked around after his shower without a shirt on, she had to control her gaze every time it fell on his beautiful mouth, wondering exactly what it would feel like against hers.

And for the first time in the longest time, Mikasa could no longer love Eren the way she always had, openly and without shame, she could no longer ask of him his care and attention.

But it feels like overnight so much has changed, she can barely comprehend it. Eren is so generous with his attention (his love), she wonders if the last couple of years of distance was the doing of her own imagination.

He is so free with his touches, sometimes gentle on her waist, sometimes tender on her face, sometimes rough in her hair (this excites her most of all). She no longer has to wonder if he’d ever kiss her like in the movies, he kisses whenever he damn pleases, and it always, always takes her by surprise. And it is so much better than she has ever imagined.

…

He saunters in as she prepares the tofu carefully, and because Mikasa is a perfectionist in everything she does, she’s concentrating completely on flipping each piece at the perfect moment when they turn golden brown.

But because Eren finds literally everything she does impossibly cute, he wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her gleefully on the cheek. It has the desired effect, she gasps, dropping her fork, and he catches her in an open mouthed kiss.

He manages to distract her for a good couple of minutes until she smells the tofu becoming decidedly darker than golden brown. “Erennn,” she whines, “... my tofu is ruined!”

“I’m sure it’ll taste wonderful,” he says because she’s an excellent cook, but also because he’s slightly affronted that by the way she pulls away in complaint.

“Please. Go sit,” she swats him away, making him pout adorably. He does as he is told and waits till she plates the food minutes later, and he’s pleased to say that he was absolutely right, it did taste wonderful.

But he’s more eager to eat up as soon as possible and finish what he tried to start a few moments ago.

“What are you going to do after dinner?” The answer he wants to hear is I’d like to make out with my boyfriend , but just as he expected, Mikasa’s mind is on a slightly different wavelength.

“... Hmm,” she eyes him suspiciously, “... I guess I’ll finish cleaning up and read the latest chapter in English Lit before bed, and just drift off to sleep. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he states innocently. “... I’ll help you clean up.”

He changes the topic before they have a chance to linger, and does good on his promise to clean up as fast as he can. It’s ridiculous the way he’s acting, and he doesn’t understand it himself, but he can’t seem to help himself. He can’t seem to stop looking at her, can’t seem to stop craving her, whether it’s the closeness of her body or the taste of her lips, and he’s pretty certain the way he’s acting right now is downright embarrassing, but somehow since its with Mikasa, he feels emboldened.

Or at least that’s how he’d felt until recently. Of late there’s been just the slightest amount of doubt that’s crept in. He finds himself wondering if it’s just him who feels this way, this inexplicable urge, and he wishes that she’d be the one reaching for him more often.

“Thanks, Eren,” she murmurs, breaking him out of his intense internal monologue, when she reaches over and brushes a chaste kiss on his cheek. It warms him instantly, immediately making him want more.

He dries up and follows her out of the kitchen, and as she turns into her room, he grabs her wrist and says, “... Mikasa, wait,” and when she flips her head to look at him, he nestles her against the wall and whispers, “... I just wanted to say goodnight,” before kissing her full on the mouth.

For all that he internally complains about her not initiating their kisses enough, she responds beautifully to him, opening her mouth to him, and slipping her tongue inside, gasping when his fingers slip under her shirt, brushing softly above her ribcage. She slides one hand around his neck and the other clutches his shirt, pulling him so close to her, he revels in the feeling of her body pressed against hers.

He doesn’t even know how, or why, because he isn’t thinking when he’s kissing Mikasa, just going with it, running on the sheer feeling of it all, because he just gives into her - but she’s got both arms around his neck and he’s pressing her so firmly against the wall, tongue shameless in its exploration of her mouth, he slips one of his legs between hers.

She likes it, likes the pressure between her legs and she finds herself moving against him, grinding almost, embarrassingly, and she doesn’t even register consciously, until she feels him hard and pressed up against her thigh. She makes an embarrassing noise, something between a gasp and a moan, and suddenly his eyes snap open, all too conscious of their position.

She feels him twitch against her, and she can barely breathe with the excitement of it all, the newness… the feeling. He looks at her like a different person, green eyes heady and searching, holding her in a heated gaze. But in the most crushingly confusing move, he steps back and whispers “good night,” before turning towards his own room.

Quite frankly, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Any more of that and she would’ve melted into jelly all over the leg that was between her thighs. And instead of pursuing that intense, boneless feeling, she finds herself catching her breath alone in the hallway with a confoundingly novel ache between her legs.

…

He watches her at the tennis court the next day; he drags Armin with him.

He’s never cared much for the game itself, only knows the basic rules because Mikasa’s been playing for years. She has a practice match today, against Jean, and he’d claimed he’d only wanted to see ‘his girl’ crush that horse face to the ground.

But the more he sits next to Eren, the more Armin feels decidedly uncomfortable. “Oi, Eren,” he says, when he’s fairly certain he’s had enough. Eren looks at him annoyed for being distracted from the game. “... What?”

Armin pinches the bridge of his nose before speaking, because how does he say this politely? “... You’re staring.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t huh me! You’re literally ogling her,” he hisses under his breath, “... it’s embarrassing, so please stop.”

He feels his face burn as he splutters, “I, I’m just watching the-,” he’s quite literally red by this point, “... Armin, what the fuck?” He just wants to hide, and so he hides his face in his hands.

He was right, he was staring, and he knew this because his mind had memorized the way she looked in that outfit, white tank top low cut and body hugging and giving him an excellent view as she moved. And he didn’t even want to comment on the way those shorts hugged her curves and how it flowed perfectly into her long, glorious legs.

If he could kick himself he would.

“What’s going on with you?” Armin asks, after he gives Eren a moment to recover from absolute mortification. Hesitating, he says, “... This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you staring at her like this recently.”

He looks at Armin helplessly, because he doesn’t know how to put it into words. “You can talk to me,” Armin coaxes him, “... you do embarrassing shit in front of me all the time anyway,” he supplies helpfully.

There’s conflict in his green eyes as he considers just how to say it, if he wants to at all. He’s still not a hundred per cent over the fact that Armin was Mikasa’s first kiss and if anyone could hold a (pointless) grudge it was Eren.

“However if you still choose to not talk to me about Mikasa because you are hung up over a stupid drunk kiss, then that’s completely fine with me too,” Armin says, reading Eren’s mind cheerfully.

“... You didn’t have to bring it up,” he says sullenly. Armin rolls his eyes. “... You’re thinking about it anyway, so I might as well talk about it.” He’s known him far too long to not understand the very simplistic nature of Eren’s thought processes.

“... I can’t stop looking at her,” he confesses, deciding to gloss over the discomfort of their kiss and focus on the main problem instead. “I hadn’t noticed,” Armin quips dryly, and Eren glares at him - so much for ‘ You can talk to me, Eren.’

“I’m losing my mind here, Armin,” trust Eren to always be dramatic, without fail, “... You can make fun of me all you want, but everytime I look at her, I,” he inhales sharply. “... God, I feel disgusting. It’s Mikasa for fuck’s sake.”

And It’s Mikasa whom his friend had always been slightly unhinged for, but Armin thinks better of saying this.

“... I feel like I just don't know how to look at her respectfully anymore,” and he says

this almost choked, so distressed, that Armin tries very very hard to suppress a laugh.

…

She wishes she hadn’t done it.

In a rare moment of weakness that she now regrets, she had given into Sasha’s ever curious inquisitions into her love life. And by love life here, Sasha was explicitly digging for the good stuff.

“Eh?!?”

Mikasa waits patiently for Sasha to return from her high pitched look of disbelief.

“... What do you mean you haven’t slept together yet?” Sasha asks, a bit calmer this time, but still urgently distressed about the matter.

“We just… haven’t,” Mikasa explains rather unsatisfyingly.

“So… do you like, want to wait or something? I thought you’ve been in love with him since forever…”

No matter how much she’s accepted that fact herself, it still makes her blush when she hears it out loud. “... It’s not like, I want to, um, wait or anything,” she confesses. Because she’s found herself thinking of the same thing every night since the time Eren had her against the wall, pinned against him and his hardness. It’s almost like it created a monster out of her, a monstrous desire that has her eyeing him out the corner of her eye whenever she gets the chance. It makes her seek him out more often, seek him out after his workout, after his shower, innocently, by accident of course, and she’s ashamed of herself.

“... You just need to jump him,” Sasha says, with the utmost seriousness. Like she knew anything at all on this subject. “And boy have I got the perfect thing to help you.”

…

Mikasa Ackerman is a huge fan of Marie Kondo. It was one of the curiously annoying yet cute things about her that Eren has an impressively large list of.

She’s watched the Netflix show more times than he can count, follows her on Youtube, and once he’d seen her pray to her room or some shit before she started cleaning. It mystifies him, and he doesn’t care enough to understand more so he just goes along with it.

Today she’s decided she has way too many clothes and she will only keep what “sparks joy” in her, so she’s strewn out her entire closet and demanded in the sweetest way that he helps her with her mission.

(She throws in the offer of trying out all her outfits before she throws them out, and Eren is horny for a fashion show or the moments in between so he readily agrees)

“... I’m not sure about this one,” she says, eyeing herself in the green dress critically.

Eren’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “... You’re kidding, you look like a fucking goddess, Mikasa.”

She blushes happily with the compliment, but Eren isn’t exaggerating. It’s a slinky strapless number which was incredibly short. And it had a slit. According to Eren, the slit could not be emphasized enough.

“... Your legs look incredible,” he says, providing her the only decent compliment he can muster. The rest he does his best to convey with eyes.

“... It just doesn’t feel like something I wear usually, you know… so I don’t know if it sparks joy...”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, “Well, you should wear it. C’mere let me help you spark some joy,” he says, playfully pulling her down into the pile of clothes that made a poofy bed on the floor.

She giggles, settling over him happily, and for a moment his sappy little heart feels like it’s going to explode. He’s pretty sure her giggle is his most favourite sound in the whole world.

“... You’re insane,” he breathes, relishing in the way she feels on top of him, his hands sliding up her legs and resting just beneath the hem of her dress (just beneath her ass). She kisses him sweetly, tongue flicking gently on his lip and making him groan softly. His hands brush past her ass, caressing ever so softly as they come to rest on the small of her back.

She deepens the kiss, and he grabs her hips roughly, angling her mouth onto his in a way that suits him, gives him access and he sighs into her mouth. The view of her on top of him, is unparalleled, her thighs around his hips and her chest heaving temptingly with her harsh breathing. He closes his eyes and captures her mouth again before he makes a fool of himself in front of her again.

But she has her hands in his hair, and she’s pressing down, grinding down against his crotch, and he can feel himself pulse at every brush of contact, and he groans knowing fully well that there’s no way she can’t feel his length brush against her legs.

He doesn’t want to stop, or run away, because he’s ridiculously turned on at this point, and unwilling to let go of her, so he simply turns her around and pins her beneath him, taking advantage of the way she squeals, to slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her.

It’s so tempting having her beneath him like this, so he gives in and slips his leg between hers again, eager to have her rub against him like she did that day, with the faintest hint of a moan, like he hasn’t been able to forget.

His fingers entwine with hers and he stretches them above her head, wanting so much to just kiss her senseless, but they collide with a cardboard box and he spares a glance at it, in annoyance.

Until he squints and actually sees what it is. The label alone makes him blush, not to mention the contents that he could clearly see under the transparent plastic covering.

Mikasa looks up, dazed and a little bit disoriented from what was possibly the most intense make out session she had ever experienced. “... Eren?”

“Babe,” he rasps, choked, “... are you trying to tell me something?”

She follows his line of sight, and wants to hide, wants to die, wants to erase this moment from her very existence.

Her Sensual Pleasure kit, he reads, his mind effectively going numb as he comprehends the contents: a vibrator, a blindfold, some pink fuzzy handcuffs and what looks like a generous bottle of lube.

Somehow even though she forgot about this ridiculous thing, having stuffed it into her closet to forget all about the ridiculousness on her friend’s face when she gave it to her, it seems to have stumbled out into the light of day at the worst possible moment.

If she could murder Sasha and get away with it, she would.

“... I-It’s not what you think, Eren,” she mumbles, cheeks red and panicking, even though she has absolutely no idea what she wants him to think.

“I assure you,” he manages, “... I’m not really thinking right now, Mikasa.” Sure enough his mind had somewhat short circuited, barely able to handle the pressure of having his extremely sexy girlfriend beneath him and somehow simultaneously having discovered what appeared to be her sextoys .

Gingerly, he reaches for it, and he almost gasps, because the box had been opened and fiddled with. “Did you actually…”

He looks at her face, and it’s the colour of a tomato by this point, teeth biting her lower lip nervously, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or if he is even more turned on.

“The vibrator, Mikasa, did you…?” His voice is so hoarse just imagining, it superseded any fantasies he’s had up until this point. “... Eren,” she whines, embarrassed, hiding her face in her hands.

“Please for the love of god, Mikasa, please just tell me, baby,” he’s pleading because he really needs to know at this point. He needs to know if he’s been going to bed in the room besides her without the potent knowledge that she’s been using this to relieve herself at night.

When she nods, just ever so imperceptibly, he’s pretty sure he’s going to combust. “... What did you think of when you were using it?” His voice sounds like a stranger’s.

She looks conflicted, looks unbelievably embarrassed, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t imagining it when he hears the faintest whisper from her saying, “... you.”

But that isn’t going to cut it, because he’s spent countless nights with a raging boner and raging guilt, as he jerked off to the most tantalizing moments he’s had with her… and he barely ever manages to look her in the eye the next morning. So he has to, no, he needs to know that he hasn’t been the only one in this absolutely ridiculous situation.

He kisses her hard, teeth grazing hers, mouth eager and greedy, and she responds to him with equal fervour. His head drops to her shoulder as he kisses her bare collarbone. “... If you knew how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you, you wouldn’t be able to look at me the same again.”

His words are a deep, throaty confession that he whispers on her skin, and it brings a tingle down to her spine and all the way to her toes. She thrusts her chest upwards against him subconsciously.

“... I think of you too, you know… all the time,” she confesses, forgetting the very meaning of inhibition. It’s hard to remember it when he looks at her that way, heat burning from his verdant eyes, his grip firm against her hips. She doesn’t want to; doesn’t need it, if it means she can be this close to him.

“... Do you think you can show me?” he whispers, barely thinking through his requests through his lust-filled haze.

He sees her hesitating, contemplating, and he finds himself praying as his fingers inch up the dress and dig into the curves of her ass, lips delicate against the tops of her breasts.

“Only if you show me how you touch yourself,” she murmurs, and he can feel himself twitch in excitement.

She backs up against her bedpost and slips out of her panties, and Eren is absolutely, positively certain, he has never seen anything more appealing than when she slowly, deliberately, hikes up that beautiful green dress and spreads her legs.

He’s so lost in the sight before him, he forgets what he’s promised until she says, steel eyes determined, challenging him almost, “... your turn, Eren.”

He shucks his pants off gracelessly, he couldn’t make it look as artful as she does even if he tried, but he’s happy to be free of the restrictive material as he springs heavy and erect at the sight of her. “... Could you um, pass me the lube,” he asks, and she does, but not before squeezing some onto her own hand.

It’s hypnotic how she rubs it into herself, wet, and pretty and pink, and he jerks into his hand, slick and wanting, as he whispers, “... God, you’re beautiful.”

His words only serve to enhance the needy pressure between her legs, the tingling feeling that her slow circular motions were only making worse. She picks up the vibrator and turns it on, pressing it to her nub, the way she’s done a few lonely nights by herself, wishing it was him against her skin.

It’s different this time, because even though it’s her and the silicone toy, Eren’s gaze is like liquid fire on her skin, dark and licentious, and almost greedy. She throws her head back, shivering with pleasure and gasping.

“... What did you think of when you played with yourself?” He asks again, and this time she knows he wants a more specific answer.

“Your fingers,” she mumbles, and she finds the pleasure makes her startlingly more honest. He could ask anything of her, and she would tell him.

The idea, the thought of it, makes him twitch happily in his hand, and he jerks erratically, feeling an unbelievable urge come over him. “... Did you get wet thinking of my fingers on you, Mikasa?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, blushing prettily, high off the vibrating sensations. Without planning to, he crawls over between her legs and kisses her deeply, murmuring on her lips, “... then let me touch you, baby.”

It was her who was being stimulated, but he nearly groans into her hair at the feeling of her soft wetness, the way it feels against his fingers, the way her arousal coats him so eagerly.

“... I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” he murmurs hoarsely, rubbing delicate circles across her nub, diligently favouring the area she had favoured mere moments ago. “Then why didn’t you,” she gasps at the last syllable, at the sudden intrusion of his long finger having slid deep inside her.

“... Sorry,” he says, sounding far too turned on to be sorry, “... you’re so wet, Mikasa.” He’s in awe, almost reverent of how warm she is, how easy.

She hangs on to his neck now, teeth grazing his neck, whispering, “... I want you, Eren.” Her breath is warm and damp and he’s unmistakably certain of what she asks.

“... Are you sure?” He asks, panting, hoping to god she’s sure, because he’s so ready, he’s been ready for a long time now, and he can barely control himself from leaking onto his own hand, when she says, “Yes.”

He makes sure she’s comfortable, or as comfortable as she can be on top of her clothes, and he commits everything to memory, the way she looks beneath him, the way her breasts heave when he pulls off the entirety of that dress, the way her nipples stiffen against his warm kisses. “... Please,” she whimpers, when he takes his time with her, taking the peaks of her breasts into her mouth and teasing ever so slightly with his teeth.

“... I can’t help it,” he rasps, “I want to touch you everywhere, you’re so pretty, babe, I,” -

He chokes, cut off, by the feeling of her delicate hands circling around him, pumping slowly as she guides him to her entrance. “Shit, Mikasa,” he curses, closing his eyes as he feels the sensation of her warmth against his tip.

It’s not his first time, but he feels like a stumbling virgin, murmuring desperate things as he feels her sheathe him completely, pausing only to pay attention to her comfort. Barely coherent, he asks, “... you okay?” She nods quietly, and his eyebrows furrow, looking at her questioningly. “Feels… so full,” she manages, with a feeble groan, and he can’t help but grin at how irresistible she is.

“... That’s because I’m supposed to fill you up, babe,” he whispers, not caring how far gone he is, because he slides out just a little only to spread her legs for him again, and slide back in. He tests the rhythm carefully, watching her expressions for any sign of discomfort, but the way she squeezes her eyes, the way she throws her head back with a gasp, just makes him lose whatever little control he had.

“Please tell me if I need to go slower,” he tells her, but judging from her reaction, from her moans, she only seemed to be egging him on.

It’s too much, he thinks, too much for him to possibly handle, not with the way she bucks her hips, and definitely not with the way she clenches needily around him.

And in a moment that he’ll probably never live down, he groans, “Fuck, babe, I’m going to,” - barely realizing with some consciousness to pull out of her tight, wet, core, and spills onto her stomach.

Mikasa’s never seen him make a face like that.

When he opens his eyes, she’s looking at him in wonder. And he’s looking at the mess he’s made on her stomach, and even though a small part of him only feels arousal at the sight of that, today he just feels like a massive asshole. “Shit,” he curses, not happy with how this played out at all. He reaches for the panties she’d so easily discarded and mops up his sticky release, mumbling, “... God, I’m so sorry, Mikasa. This was your first time, I can’t even believe,” -

“Eren,” she interrupts, because she doesn’t have time for this, his self-derision can come later. “... I, um…,” she clenches her thighs together, and he suddenly realizes that he hadn’t yet completely fucked shit up, he could still make her feel good, and that’s all he wanted.

He settles himself between her legs and spreads her folds open for him, feeling a familiar twitch at the pretty sigh in front of him. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers earnestly, before she feels his mouth on her folds. He kisses her like how he kisses her lips, like he wants to consume her, and if she thought it felt good against her own mouth, it felt only a million times better down there. He’s generous with his tongue, probing circling, sending her into a frenzy that only he could have managed.

She threads her fingers into his hair, gasping his name, prettily, holding on to him as she rides wave after wave of pleasure against his tongue.

When he lifts himself up and looks at her, he grins, his mouth shining because of her juices, and she closes her eyes swearing to herself that she will never forget that sight.

He collapses next to her, this time of a happier countenance because somewhere in his mind he’s judged this to be a fair exchange, and because Mikasa knows him so well, she can’t help but giggle.

“I’m not usually like this,” he asserts, once he’s caught his breath, and she’s barely managed to catch hers. She raises an eyebrow at him, amused. Trust Eren to be bothered about the unnecessary mechanics of his ego, barely minutes after their first time. “... I swear, next time I’m not going to let you go unless you have at least three orgasms. Minimum.”

“I guess I’ll have to hold you to it, Eren,” she murmurs, chuckling. “And before you freak out about the other thing; I’m on birth control, so don’t worry.” There’s silence, remarkably guilty silence, because he hadn’t thought about it, and that’s ridiculous because he’d never done it without a condom before, and if he ever feels like the biggest idiot on the planet, it’s at this moment.

“... I fucking love you, Mikasa,” he says sincerely, thanking the gods and this insane goddess right beside him, and this time she can’t help but laugh out loud.

a/n: edit: two whole weeks after posting ao3, i finally got around to putting this on tumblr.

to all those who have been on this journey with me, thank you so much. it's been so fun with these guys in the hsy verse.

i can't believe the story is over; i'm not ready to let go. going forward i may or may not right 3 more chapters each focusing on armin, historia, and jean respectively. i'm still mulling over it :)

i've recently been made aware that some people who read my stories are minors and i should be more mindful. so the note below -

i'd just like to clarify that it's fairly normal to be 18 yo in senior year of high school (at least where i'm from), which is when this last chapter takes place, so i did not feel the need to write age anywhere. i just want to clarify this; im no one to lecture any body on the appropriate age to be sexually active - as long as the person who you're with treats you respectfully and honours your consent. and respect your own limits and body.

HOWEVER I WILL ABSOLUTELY TAKE THIS MOMENT TO LECTURE YOU ON THE USE OF BIRTH CONTROL - PLEASE USE CONDOMS. please discuss birth control or std prevention with a sexual partner. DO NOT BE LIKE EREN AND FORGET JEEZUS. i'm 27 when i'm writing this so the last scene was just meant to be funny, especially his unbelievable sigh of relief when he finds out she had the foresight to be careful.

anyway, see ya and if it might interest you pls check out my mikasa stripper au ;) i'm very excited about it.

#eremika #liquorisce fanfiction #eremika smut #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #high school years

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, chapter 10

Here it is!

“So you have come on the promise of nothing, hm?”

The air was cold and the morning, slightly foggy in Boston. Jérémy couldn't see his father's sly smirk.

“You said I’d get a job.”

“So you came here for the job?”

“What else?” The young man answered, raising his hood above his head to cover himself from the cold. He looked on the bench and the older man was smoking. 

“You are three minutes late however.” Lucien rose to his feet and glanced at his watch. 

"It's only three minutes." Jérémy shrugged.

"A lot can happen in three minutes." 

"Like what?"

"I held your friend Johnny back in less than three minutes."

Jérémy fell silent for a while.

"So, you gonna tell me what the job is or what?" 

"Impatient. You remind me of myself when I was… about half of your age." Lucien started walking away.

"Hey…!"

"What do you see around you?" Lucien asked as Jérémy caught up with him.

"What?"

"Describe it." 

Jérémy looked around. 

"Uh… We're in a park and uh… It's freakin' empty and I got the feeling that I woke up for nothin'?"

"Uh-uh." Lucien stopped and raised an index finger. "The surroundings, not your emotions."

Jérémy sighed and followed when the French stranger walked again.

"Alright, alright…" Lucien couldn't help but smirk seeing his son obey him so easily. "There are trees and benches and… Grass grows, sun shines and I don't know what I'm doin' here!"

"Again." Lucien said. "Surroundings, not yourself." 

"Why the hell am I doin' all this?!" 

"Silence and resume at once." Lucien calmly answered. 

"Raaah…!" Jérémy's frustration grew a notch more. "There's no one and nothing, man! Now either you tell me what the fuck this job's about or I'll go with my pals!"

Lucien chuckled. 

“What?!”

“You might be fast on your legs, but you are blind.”

“What?!” Jérémy’s voice jumped an octave.

“Look around you. There are people.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Describe them to me.” Lucien repeated. 

“Ugh…” The young man sighed and his shoulders sank. “There’s a guy with a… A coat and a beanie cause it’s freakin’ cold and uh… There’s an old woman walking her tiny dog, God I hate those, they look like mad rats…!”

“Description.”

“Right, right… There’s another guy with a dog and that’s it.”

Lucien stopped walking. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He threw the cigarette nonchalantly and it landed in the bin. “You have not finished.”

“Yeah, I have, there’s nothing else!”

“But there is.” Lucien insisted and turned to face his son. “What about that man far to your right? And the squirrels fighting in that tree? And the bench in front of us, you have not mentioned them.”

“That dude’s homeless and who cares about squirrels and benches?”

“The question has never been about who cares. I asked you for a simple task, yet you did not complete it."

Jérémy shook his head before lowering it. 

"Let us see something else." Lucien approached a tree. "Stay where you are. I will hide behind this tree. Count five seconds and try to find me." 

"So now we're playin' hide-and-seek?" 

Lucien ignored the question and went behind the tree. 

“Do I have to close my eyes to count or…?”

“I shall leave this to your discretion.” The voice with the French accent answered from behind the tree trunk.

“Alright then…” He kept his eyes open and counted out loud. “One… Two.. Three… Four… And five. Ready or not, here I come!” Jérémy approached the tree decidedly and went behind it. “What the-?”

The older man wasn’t there. 

“How the hell did you manage to go anywhere? I was there and watching everything!” The young man looked left and right, up and down, as if the Frenchman could have flown to the nearest cloud or hid underground. “Hey…? Uh… I don’t even know your name! Uh… You… Frenchie?”

Lucien rolled his eyes. 

“Frenchie…? Oi! Where are you?” Jérémy started walking around. 

Lucien made his son’s wandering around last for a while longer, mildly amused by his bewilderment. 

“For fuck’s sake - ouch?!”

“Language.” Lucien had appeared out of a cloud of thin smoke and gave a light tap at the back of his son’s head.

“Where were you?!”

“Waiting for you to find me and again, you left me disappointed. I am starting to think that you might not suit the job.” Lucien got his cigarette case out and flipped it open. His hands went on autopilot to take a cigarette and flick his silver lighter. “Nevermind then, I wish you luck on your path.”

He started walking away and counted down in his head. He knew Jérémy would not let the opportunity slip. But of course, he wanted to show the boy that he had to hang on and fight for what he wanted. It was a stroke of luck that Lucien offered to train him and follow his steps. Never had the Frenchman thought that he would be training his son and putting him in the same train of life as his, but something deep down inside yearned to see Jérémy have a better life than his own. Jérémy wasn’t him. Maybe, maybe he could pull it off. Maybe, if Lucien helped, just maybe he could fabricate himself a life that made sense.

And like the desperate man he was, Lucien believed it. He believed his own imagination and his own little narrative. Again. 

Some people never learn, others don’t want to. 

“Hey! Hold on!”

A sly smile flashed on his thin lips as he stopped. Lucien slipped his gloved hands in the pockets of his long, dark blue coat.

"You can't just make me wake up super early and leave me there?!" 

"Then, try to follow me." Lucien walked decidedly and Jérémy caught up with him. As the morning sun rose and more people came to the park, the young man got distracted by the passer-bys -- Lucien noticed his gaze wander and stick to any and every woman he could glue his eyes on -- and as he reached the gates of the park's entrance, Jérémy looked to his left to the Frenchman but he wasn't there. 

"Oh, jeez! Again? Seriously?!" He shook his head and frowned, annoyed. He looked around him and saw a silhouette with salt and pepper hair make a turn at the end of the street. "Oh!" 

Jérémy ran to it and took the same turn only to look for the man again. He should have been right there! Jérémy walked in the streets, looking left and right at people, at each alley and crossroads. 

"Where the fuck is he - ouch?!" 

"Language." Lucien appeared out of a thin cloud of smoke and had tapped the back of his son's head again. 

"Where were you?!" 

"Right behind you." 

They now walked side by side.

"Look, you gotta tell me what the job is, I'm tired of playin' with you." 

Lucien pulled the door to a café and held it open. 

"I presume you skipped breakfast this morning." 

The door was open long enough for the smell of coffee and warm pastries to reach Jérémy's nose. 

"Yeah but this place is not for people like me." He answered, ashamed to just admit bluntly that he lacked the money to afford something there. 

"Come on, I don't have all day." Lucien insisted, and Jérémy sighed as he walked past his father, entering the warm café. 

There was some faint jazz music playing in the background and people were all dressed in suits and ties. Jérémy blushed and lowered his head. His hoodie and jeans full of holes screamed louder than he ever could in that decor. 

"A table for two. Thank you." 

Father and son followed the waiter. As Jérémy sat down, Lucien pulled his hoodie off of his head. 

"You are inside. Covering your head is impolite." He said before his son could protest.

Lucien went to his seat and removed his scarf and long, navy blue coat. They both were seated in a corner. 

"What will you have?" Lucien asked, still reading the menu in his gloved hand.

"First, your name." 

The older man's eyebrows twitched. Ah, finally, something he did not see coming. Interesting. 

"You may call me L."

"L?"

"Oui." 

"L like what?" 

"A lot of things." Lucien's eyes never left the leather-back menu. 

"L like liar." 

The Frenchman's eyes flashed from the menu to his son's blue eyes. 

"Pardon?" He asked in his mother tongue. 

"You told me I'd get a job and I'm sittin' here with you with nothin'. You're a liar." 

Lucien frowned and put the menu back on the table.

"You should watch your tongue."

"Why? What're you gonna do, huh?" 

Lucien took a deep breath. 

"I am sure you can remember Johnny. If I can stop him from causing a scene with three fingers, you may wonder what I might do to stop you, young man." 

Jérémy stared back at his father fiercely. There was something in the Frenchman's beard, in his neck-long, salt and pepper hair that tickled his eyes whenever he looked at the Frenchman. And those glasses… 

The Bostonian sighed. 

"So, what will you have?" Lucien resumed and picked up the menu again, as if nothing had happened. 

"Nothin'... L." 

"Yet, you clearly crave it." 

"I-!" Jérémy stopped himself and lowered his voice again. "I can't pay anythin' from here." He almost whispered, looking left and right. 

Lucien lowered the menu enough for the young man to see his eyes. 

"That was not my question." He answered. "Young and starving as you are, you may go for the full English breakfast."

Jérémy wanted to both thank him for the free meal but also beat him up. The arrogance of that guy, seriously! There he was in his little suit and tie, lookin' all prim and proper, about to pay a breakfast for a guy half his age like he's doing charity work!

"Hold on." The young man frowned and stopped his train of thought.

Lucien hid his eyes behind the menu again. 

"You don't wanna know my name?" 

"I already know it. I think I will go for a cappuccino and a croissant, or maybe a pain au chocolat…? Hm, I am hesitating."

"How d'you know my name?" 

"I could ask you the same with the negative form. Non, it is definitely cold this morning, I shall go with both a croissant and a pain au chocolat. I might have the appetite for both. Hm, who would have thought?"

"What…?" Jérémy blinked repeatedly and squinted. "What's that supposed to mean…? Anyway, what's my name then, fancypants - ouch?!" 

Lucien tapped him at the back of his head again. 

"What was that for?! I didn't say the f-word!"

"Non, you did not, but you lacked the respect you owe me." Lucien calmly answered and a waiter approached. 

"Have you made your choice, gentlemen?" 

Lucien looked at his son. 

"Y-yeah, I get the full English thing… Ouch?!"

"Ask politely."

"Please…!" Jérémy added, rubbing the back of his head. 

"And for me, a cappuccino with a croissant and a pain au chocolat. Merci." 

The waiter disappeared and left father and son alone. 

"Jérémy."

The young man opened wide eyes. 

"Your name is Jérémy. You were born on a day of early June, a Saturday if I remember and it all happened here, in Boston. You were raised by your single mother, in the chaos that is a household dominated by seven half-brothers, all older than you are. May I add that they are far from good examples to you and you are at a point in your life now where you must decide." 

Jérémy's jaw dropped. The waiter came back and placed their order on the table. 

"Merci." Lucien answered with a polite nod and a smile. He waited for the waiter to disappear before he took the sugar cubes, two, and dipped them in his coffee. 

"I must decide what?" 

"What indeed." Lucien answered as he lazily stirred his coffee. “You should eat while it is hot.”

Jérémy pulled the plate closer to himself and didn’t waste time. The father watched as his son dived in his plate. Poor boy, he must have been quite hungry…

“You can either follow your half-brothers and friends.”

“Or…? What can I mph-ouch?!”

“Do not speak with your mouth full, it is impolite.”

Jérémy grumbled and between speaking or eating, he chose eating. His eyes darted back down to his plate. 

“Or you could follow me.” Lucien finished and Jérémy finished chewing and gulping down on his strips of bacon before speaking. 

“Follow you?”

Lucien took a sip of his coffee and put the cup down. 

"I must warn you however. Accepting to be trained by me, means that you will have to leave your half-brothers." 

"What?" Jérémy frowned again. "What d'you mean 'trained by you'? And are you sayin' I'll have to leave my brothers behind?"

"I'm afraid that it is much safer this way, for you and for them." 

"What the f-ouch! Ok, I got it… What's the job about? And why did you have me do all this weird stuff this mornin' in the park?" 

"Simple tasks, simple tests."

"And what's the result then?" 

"You have some precious qualities…" Lucien started and Jérémy smiled widely, inflating his chest like a proud rooster. "But a lot to learn still and the attention span of a chicken." 

"A chicken?!" 

"Non, actually… Uhm, what are they called in English again…?" Lucien took a split second to think. "Ah, oui, the attention span of a fly." 

"What?!" Jérémy's jaw dropped. 

"You cannot focus on anything for longer than a few seconds and your eyes are not trained to see but to ignore. You choose to pay attention to ladies passing by in the street when you should let the surroundings offer their richness for you to absorb."

"You make no f-" Lucien raised his gloved hand. "Freakin' sense." Jérémy said and nonetheless ducked his head slightly, in anticipation for the hit behind it. 

"But I know you can be patient. If you put your attention in something, and by that I mean something other than women passing by, then we can work."

"Mh…" Jérémy continued eating. 

"Do you know Washington square?"

"Yeah, why?" 

"We are heading there after breakfast." 

"Why?" 

"This is the location of your new job."

"What? There's only offices and skyscrapers there!"

"Oui, the main building is the headquarters."

"The headquarters of what?" 

"It matters very little, I am taking you underground."

"Uh…"

"There is a gymnasium. I need to test your fitness." Lucien said and grabbed his croissant. 

"So you remove the gloves only for the croissants? Man, you're so French…" Jérémy shook his head and looked back down at his plate. 

And you are half that. Lucien thought with an amused smile on his lips. 

When both gentlemen finished, Jérémy was surprised to see that indeed, L was taking him in the direction of Washington square. 

"You sure know your way around here but you haven't been here long, have you?" Jérémy asked.

Lucien's eyes twinkled and he smirked. Jérémy must have thought that given the strength of his French accent, Lucien wasn't from these parts of the world. He however knew how to navigate through the streets with ease. Ah, oui, oui! The deductive mind! There it was!

"This gives me great hope." He answered. 

"What? Why? Wanna become a tourist guide or something?" Jérémy asked. 

"Non." Lucien answered with a chuckle. 

"Then what?" 

They crossed the square and arrived at the foot of the main skyscraper. Lucien stood in front of the door and turned to his son. 

"Les chiens ne font pas des chats."

"Y'know I don't get a bit of French, right?"

"I think in English you say 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Now, I must say that I am pleased that you prefer following me rather than the path of your half-brothers."

"H-hold on, what? Who said I'm acceptin' the job? I don't even know what it is?" Jérémy asked. 

"You have followed me this far, haven’t you?” Lucien cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah but-”

“Exactly.” Lucien cut him. “If you walk through this door, there is no means to turn back and return to your life. If you follow me through this door, you sign your life to your new employer.”

“You?”

“Non. Much bigger, so big in fact that it is surrounding you.”

“What?”

“Jérémy.” Lucien put his hands on his son’s shoulders and looked him dead in the eye, bending slightly down to be at eye-level. “Are you sure you want to choose this life? You renounce your family, your friends, your life as it is. Do not think of the money, for if I train you, you will make plenty of it. Think about what your heart wants right now.”

Jérémy frowned and looked down. 

“What do you want right this instant?” Lucien asked. 

“You sure this job’s not illegal?”

“Absolutely not.” Lucien answered. 

“It’s clean? I’m not doin’ things to hurt people without them knowing?” Jérémy looked back up at his father’s light blue eyes.

“You might hurt people, but trust me, more often than not, they know there is a threat. Part of  your job is precisely for them not to know that you are it.” The father answered.

Jérémy took a deep breath. 

“Why are you asking me this? I would have expected you to ask me about the pay and such, yet you are asking me something about the rightness of this? You were about to deal drugs, Jérémy.”

“I know - I just… My Ma’…”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped. 

“What about her?” He asked.

“She used to hurt people without them knowing. It’s awful.”

“That is very thoughtful of you.” Lucien answered and Jérémy saw that his father’s gaze changed. “I… I did not think you would think in such a compassionate way.”

“Well, it’s just that… Because of her, I never got to see my Dad and… Now, I can’t even ask her.”

“I am sorry.” Lucien answered. “I am really sorry for you and I wish things could have been different.” Both took a deep breath. “But now, you have to make a choice.”

“Can I at least know what the job is?”

“You will know only if you accept. What I can tell you is that it is a delicate job. But, Jérémy, I know that you have it in you to shine and strive with it.”

“How could you know that after a game of hide-and-seek and a fancy breakfast?”

Lucien smiled. 

“Trust me, I do.”

Jérémy took a deep breath and looked left and right. 

“Right, ok.”

“Are you sure?”

“No but… I guess, yeah.”

Lucien couldn’t help but grin, his smile was however tinted with something that was a mix of pride, with a hint of sadness. Jérémy reminded him of himself, years and years ago, when Lucien himself had taken up the job.

“You will not see your brothers or your family ever again.”

“I don’t have a family.”

“Nor will you see your friends.”

“You should be happy about that.” Lucien raised a curious eyebrow. “You didn’t seem too keen on me hangin’ with them, eh?”

They exchanged a smile. 

“Oui, but this isn’t about what I would like for you or not. This is your decision to make.”

“Yeah, ok, I’ll take the job, whatever it is.”

"I can give you a few days to think about it." Lucien offered but he knew how impatient his son was…

"Nah, I'll go for it." 

“No regrets?”

“Open the door already…!”

“Fine.” Lucien pulled the door open for his son. Jérémy entered and his father followed him. The son raised his eyes to the sign at the reception. 

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me.... Ouch?!”

“Language.” Lucien answered as he passed his son to walk to reception. 

Jérémy was left in awe. Now, he couldn’t read well but those three letters, he knew them. He looked up at the screens, lines flashing that meant nothing to him but he could only imagine their value. And then people passing him, most of them in suits and ties, ladies in tight skirts and white shirts, glasses on their noses and looking busy, important even…!

“Agent L, French DGSE. Is the gymnasium open?”

“It sure is, Sir, it’s down the stairs to your left.”

“I know, merci.” Lucien headed for the stairs and stopped when he realised that his son wasn’t at his side. He turned to see him in awe in front of the sign hanging above reception. “Jérémy? Please, let us not waste time.”

“Uh? Hold on…!”

Lucien had started to go down the stairs and his son caught up with him. 

“Hold on, L…!” Jérémy held his father back by his sleeve when they finished hurtling down the stairs. Lucien turned to him. “Is this really…?”

“Is this really what?” Lucien asked. 

“The motherfu-ouch?!”

“Language! You are in headquarters here, young man, watch your tongue.”

“Who cares about it?! I’m at the CIA - Wouch?! What was that for?”

“Lacking respect. I do care about it. Now, follow me. Physical training starts now.”

Jérémy’s eyes shone bright, scintillating with excitement. Oh if only his Ma’ could see it! No doubt she’d be proud…

Right?

#tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #unalone #dad!spy

[kayrogers]

sugar baby ][ r. drysdale

50 shades / CEO au

Paring(s): ceo!ransom x curator!reader 

Inspo: the embarrassing amount of ransom smut I've read

Word Count: 2300+

Warning(s): cursing, implied smut, unequal power-dynamic, mention of kinks, and ransom being the hot douche he is

Part: part 1 | part ??

A/N: imma be real with y’all I saw knives out in theaters like three times and I am absolute ransom trash, I apologize

It was already a shitty day.

By the time you had reached Thrombey Selects, you were on the verge of frustrated tears and you hadn’t even gone into your interview yet.

Your day started normal enough, you prepared for your interview and organized your portfolio about ten different times before you could run out the door. Coffee was a better option than actual food for breakfast as the thing really filling your stomach was anxiety. You had only gotten your masters recently and it was a miracle that you were given an interview at Thrombey Selects, only having pulled together minimal art galleries — most of which were done as part of getting your degree in the first place.

Then there was the subway. It felt like it took forever to get to the Lower East Side, especially being sat between two men with no concept of personal space and a snot-nosed two year old giving you a stink eye across the aisle. And to make matters worse you got a coffee spilled on your dress right as you walked off the train. The woman who spilled it actually had the audacity to scream at your face, and say it was your fault, like she wasn’t nose-deep in her phone. Luckily, you had left your apartment super early and you stopped at the nearest department store you could find. A too-expensive little black dress later and you were on your way to Thrombey Selects. And then it down poured and by the time you walked into the building, every inch of you was drenched in water.

You took a deep breath, approaching the receptionist with rain droplets falling from your hair and onto the floor. She looked up at you with an unimpressed gaze, stating that you’d be meeting with a Mr. Drysdale ‘whenever he felt like showing up’. You weren’t exactly sure what that meant but you took it as a chance to dry off.

Stepping away towards an empty hallway you were quick to work, taking up residence next to a decorative plant and ringing your hair out into the pot. Taking off your cardigan was the most work, the grey material sticking to your skin like glue. You undoubtedly looked like a madman, wrestling to get the knit off and finally slicking it onto the floor to reveal the tight little number you bought.

“Quite the weather, huh?” A deep male voice said from behind you.

You jumped and nearly tripped over your heels as you turned around to find the source. That source being a very gorgeous man with piercing blue eyes. He had a confident smirk and carved features, it was almost like he was created by a sculptor in Rome.

“Oh- oh my gosh! Sorry, I um yeah... kinda got caught in the rain.” You blush with a sigh, still taking in the stranger’s appearance.

He dressed sharp, yet casual. Adorning himself in a black turtleneck and pants, accompanied by a brown trench coat and Chelsea boots. The accessory on him which drew the most attention though was a large, flowery scarf. You suddenly felt very aware of the less glamorous state of your dress and reached for the cardigan you so ungraciously plopped on the floor.

“You’re [Y/n], right? [Y/n] [Y/l/n]?” He shamelessly looked you up and down while saying that, only making you blush more.

“How do you know my-“

“Because I’m interviewing you. The name is Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you can just call me Ransom. The help call me Hugh.” His lips curled into a wide smirk and he shook your hand as it changed into a white-toothed grin.

‘The help’ stuck in your head for a moment and nearly made you frown. Any man who talked like that came from money, lots of money. And he clearly wasn’t the type to be polite about it.

“Let’s head up to my office, Honey.” And with that the two of you were on your way.

You could help but feel his eyes on you with every step you took, each click of your heels hitting the floors like a deafening clock. He opens a door to reveal a sleek, modern office room complete with a portrait of Harlan Thrombey on the back wall. You would recognize that face anywhere after reading his novels repeatedly, his picture always located in the back. He was the reason you applied here in the first place, he was passionate and creative. Any man like him would be expected to have a taste for the arts.

Ransom took his seat behind the desk and you sat in front of him gripping your portfolio tightly while he pulled out a Manila file.

“It’s interesting that grandad picked you for the interview... from the looks of it, you’re extremely under qualified compared to the rest of the staff.” Ransom immediately listed off in a twisted tone, dismissive and intrigued all at once.

You pulled a tight-lipped smile, “and yet, here I am.”

He looked up from the file, blue eyes shooting into your own holding intent you could not read. The smirk appeared on his face once more.

“Tell me about yourself, [Y/n]. I want a better understanding.” You suddenly felt small in that moment, you knew what he was actually telling you.

‘Show me why I should give a fuck about you.’

“Uh- well I’m a hard worker. I come from a low income family so I’ve been working since I was 14, in my mom’s diner. I still serve to keep up with rent, but that’s at a classier place no offense to my mom. Art has um always been my passion though... I’m sorry, am I doing this right?” You bit your lip, staring across to see Ransom sporting a sneaky smile you didn’t understand.

“How bout I help you along? Are you prepared for a lot of physical work? How much do you exercise a week? I know you may think being one of our curators is easy work, but I like to run things differently here.” That confuses you.

You know how curation works, hell it’s why you got your degree but the only physical thing you ever did was hang paintings on a wall.

“Uh- I mean I workout when I can but I’m pretty busy. I serve so I get a lot of time on my feet. But, I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me!” You answered honestly and watched as he quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can Miss [Y/l/n]. So... any significant others?” Warmth filled your face at his question.

“No I am single- sorry I just don’t understand what this has to do with being a curator.” You finish with a smile to hide how unsure you were.

Ransom just grins back, “oh that is because I am opting you for a better position. Higher up, better pay grade, and more personal work with me. Here take a look,” He reaches into his desk and pulls out a black file, tossing it to you.

Opening the folder shows you a contract that makes your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

‘Sugar Baby’ is in bold at the top.

Reading through, you become flustered seeing the requirements and perks. The pay is definitely better, but is it worth the submissive role he intends you to play? Calling him ‘Sir’? Your cheeks burn as you keep flicking through, seeing all his kinks and desires written in ink. The particular emphasis on bondage and the sub/dom dynamic made heat pool between your legs. You run your thighs together in instinct, missing how his eyes light up at the response.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. In fact, my cell is on there, take a few days to look it over and text me. If not, I can still offer you that basic paid internship of a position.” His eyes were intense when they met yours, hiding the gears which were in overdrive behind their deep blue.

He was manipulating you and he wasn’t even shy about it. You were ashamed to think that you didn’t mind it. This was insane! Completely unethical and gross, but you found yourself considering the position all the same. Especially given the rut you found yourself in for quite a while now in the sex department. Graduating and entering your career didn’t leave much time for any sexual encounters, excluding your dominant hand.

“Yeah- uhm I’ll definitely have to get back to you. Not that I’m not interested-“ Your voice betrayed you, coming out quiet and almost naive.

“- it’s a lot. Sleep on it, Babe.” He stood up and you took that as your signal to leave which you were thankful for.

“Thank you, Mr- sorry.. Ransom.” You stood as well, closing the folder and holding it tightly in your hands.

You move to grab your sopping cardigan but he scoops it up before you can.

“I’ll have our dry cleaners handle this, don’t need a potential employee getting pneumonia today. Take my jacket, I’m sure I’ll be getting it back soon.” He matter-of-factly states and hands you his trench coat.

You sling it on, feeling small in the garment made for the clearly muscular man. Even in your heels he towered over you.

“Thank you.” There’s a small smile on your face and you head towards the door.

He walks behind you, his hand finding the small of your back as he opens the office door for you.

“Can’t wait to hear from you, Miss [Y/l/n].” Ransom’s voice is low and his breath fans on the back of your neck as you exit and the door clicks behind you.

-

It was about 11 PM in your apartment as you sat on your bed thinking of perhaps the longest pro-con list you could with a glass of wine in hand.

You had been surfing on your laptop, gathering as much information as you could about Ransom Drysdale and the idea of being a ‘sugar baby’.

‘Pros: He’s gorgeous. We have a lot of the same kinks. It’s a lot more money than the internship. I’ll probably get some nice clothes out of this. I can stop waitressing. He’s really really hot. I have the opportunity to live my dream and work at my dream company, and get some good sex on the side.’ You thought, biting your lip and thinking too much about what he looked like without clothes on.

‘Cons: this is a very unprofessional proposition and definitely a little demeaning. He’s clearly a douche. The ‘help’ comment. I don’t know if he even is that good in bed. I don’t really know this man at all and now I’m basically signing a portion of my life to him. If he doesn’t think I’m good in bed, am I getting fucked over??’ You took a large gulp of wine, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Ransom’s crystalline eyes stared back at you through the screen, the picture from a Ralph Lauren photo shoot.

“Fuck, he’s a model too.” You muttered with a groan.

Of all the valid negatives that filled your mind, the heat pooling below your stomach at the thought of him taking control of you and your life felt much stronger. Were you a little messed up to even be considering this so heavily?? Fuck, probably.

But even so, the idea tantalized you in such a way that had you reaching for the folder to read through his demands once again.

You didn’t quite like the demands of you working out 4 times a week and completely overhauling your diet. Sure, you probably shouldn’t have been eating the amount of microwaveable and junk foods you usually did but that's none of his business! But perhaps these things could be amenable within the contract? You decided you wouldn’t take part unless they were.

But most importantly, you wouldn’t decide on anything without a good night’s sleep.

-

The next morning you stared at the contract as though it were the most important thing you could sign in your life. A weight settled on your shoulders and you avoided the piece of paper for the rest of the morning. Instead you decided to run through your daily routine, taking a shower and getting dressed for the day. You made yourself a cup of coffee and stared at your small apartment with a slight frown.

Reality rushed through you as you realized the position you were in before this opportunity presented itself. You have tremendous debt from school, even with the scholarships you had received. The shoebox you lived in was already barely affordable while you practically worked yourself to death at the upscale bar-restaurant you were currently employed with. The idea that you could leave all this and live lavishly on the payroll of one of the wealthiest families in New York, was one which had been growing on you enormously.

Impulsively, you grabbed your phone and typed his phone number into your messages.

‘Hello, Mr. Drysdale. Or I guess I should say, Ransom.

This is [Y/n] [Y/l/n]. I have thought over your offer and though I have a few concerns with certain aspects of the contract... I would be glad to talk them over with you and get to an agreement we are both comfortable with. I am indeed interested in this position.

When would you like to go over the details?’

You typed out the message, writing in the most professional manner you could (despite the content of the proposal). Pressing the send button sent a series of sparks through your skin and up your spine, butterflies filling your stomach.

Within minutes though, there was a response.

‘Saturday night. Be ready at 7 PM sharp. I will send a car for you. Can’t wait ;)’

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

taglist(s):

sugar baby -

permanent -

@ultrunning​ @jesseswartzwelder​

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out imagine #chris evans imagine #ceo au #50 shades au #sugar daddy au

[moonboohoo]

BOOK: DREAM; IN THE STARS

CHARACTER: IWAIZUMI HAJIME X READER

SUMMARY: IN WHICH A GIRL NEEDS TO REPAY HER SINS BY BEFRIENDING WITH A VOLLEYBALL PLAYER.

WORD COUNT : 2285

*LOWERCASE INTENDED.

2.3 ㅡ STARRY NIGHT. 

warnings: slight angst, crying hajime. 

you woke up in the middle of the night, and you felt like you were freezing to death. you rubbed your eyes tiredly and glanced at the illuminated green numbers on the digital clock. it was only 2:24 am. you groaned in dismay as you put your blanket on top of you, attempting to sleep since you have classes tomorrow. you heard a strong gust of wind blowing against your window, and this irritated you even more. you're too lazy to close the curtains, but you didn't like the sound of the wind either - you let out a frustrated sigh as you wore your white fluffy house shoes, and walked towards your window. your eyes landed on a certain figure, who was standing on the roadside as he looked at the night sky with an emotionless expression.

you squinted your eyes and tried to see it clearly, and you're shocked that iwaizumi hajime was standing outside his house at 2:30 am, wearing only his sweater and sweatpants, he warmed his shivering hands by rubbing them; fatigue engraved on his worn face.

...

"...what the heck, something is not right."

                                                                2009, October 11.

"(y/n)-chan, hanami-chan! let's go to the volleyball gym to see them practice!" akane whined as she hugged us from behind, and stomped her foot like a child that wasn't getting what they wanted. you sighed as you turned around to hanami, the girl crossed her arms over her chest, still contemplating whether she should accompany her friend or just go back home and sleep. without a second thought, she then took her school backpack and faced akane, giving her a cheeky grin before she left the classroom.

"b-but please..." she grabbed her wrist, begging her to stay.

"if (y/n) is staying then i will be staying, too."

even though you have better things to do at home, you just couldn't say no to your friends. and plus, you wanted to check up on iwaizumi. your brow furrowed as you rubbed your temples, recalling the moment last night; it wasn't a dream. you thought it was you who was hallucinating, it was midnight after all - but when you looked at him from afar, it was him, iwaizumi hajime was standing there, it's like he was counting stars or something. it was awfully cold yesterday and nobody will just go out without a scarf like that, the more you think about it; the more you think that iwaizumi hajime was hiding something, and it makes you suspicious. akane and hanami were throwing insults at each other again, you couldn't care less about it; as you're trying to analyse about the situation last night.

the familiar low thudding sound echoed through the volleyball court, twelve people were playing volleyball at the center of the gym, six in green uniforms versus six in blue. there were a lot of girls sitting on the floor, cheering and screaming their names. akane squealed and grabbed both of your hands - as she grinned widely, and sat on the floor. hanami and you exchanged glances and let out a sigh. akane gets excited easily especially when she sees someone attractive. she couldn't stop talking about them and this girl won't hesitate to take pictures of them and make it as her collection. frankly, you're not like the other girls, or like akane. you've passed that phase long ago, and it was not a big deal when you're talking to one of the hot guys in school, you just...don't care, and you're focusing more on yourself and many other things that you think it's important.

the girls were screaming again when it was time for oikawa to serve.

"oikawa san! you are the best!"

"he's so handsome! look at him-"

hanami rolled her eyes and turned away, you could clearly see that she was frustrated and annoyed at the same time, she was fuming; and you thought that her ears were in danger of turning into smokestacks. you didn't understand why she was acting in this way, and you tried many ways to comfort her, but to no avail; she was still pissed. akane was smiling dreamingly when matsukawa blocked one of his opponents, she quickly waved at him when he was looking towards her direction.

he just nodded.

"i think he likes me." akane squeezed your wrist and let out a giggle. you laughed at her optimistic behaviour, she was always that cheerful and energetic, she's that kind of friend that you can actually rely on, she was always positive; which you liked her a lot. hanami, on the other hand, was really rational. she hates it when akane asks her about love relationships, basically everything about love, she said that it was a waste of time. hanami was neutral, and her personality was really straightforward, brutally honest about her own opinions and her feelings; and very stubborn. you loved them, you loved all of them, you loved it when they always attacked you with hugs, it was something that you never experienced before, and yet you're given another chance to feel alive again.

"nice one, iwaizumi!" one of the seniors ruffled his hair, and he just smiled in response. this was strange, iwaizumi would normally exchange high fives with all of them. he took a deep breath, then using a blue towel to wipe off his sweats. you're starting to worry about him, he had never been absent-minded before, and the dark circles under his eyes were so obvious.

suddenly, a ball flew towards your direction and hanami stood up and dodged it just in time. iwaizumi yelled at oikawa, and oikawa screamed, their seniors tried to calm everyone down, the fan girls - once again, were shouting and yelling at each other, and the scene was really, chaotic.

what's worse? the coach was nowhere to be seen.

"trashykawa!"

"stop calling me that!" he pouted angrily.

"you almost hit them! you gotta be focus-" iwaizumi retorted.

"i-it's not my fault when hana-chan is looking at me! it's dis-distracting!" the brunette blurted out, and he immediately covered his mouth. everyone was dumbfounded, and oikawa was blushing heavily as he looked at hanami, the girl clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, a blush spreading across her face. her eyes - her eyes were filled in embarrassment, her hands rubbing on her skirt, hanami had never gotten into this situation before; and oikawa was basically getting into her nerves. a tiny furrow appeared on your head, this exact moment was definitely too cliche for you; typical high school love and puppy love romance, which you've experienced many years ago, witnessing this entire scene again made you shivered slightly.

no, you didn't feel excited at all.

"uhm...i'm too old for this..." you mumbled slightly, rubbing both of your arms, trying to rid yourself from goosebumps.

just then, hanami cracked her knuckles and yelled at oikawa; "fuck you, oikawa! go get your eyes checked!"

───

iwaizumi walked back home without telling you.

after the practice match was over, oikawa dragged you outside the court and ranted at you about hanami, his love relationships and begging for advice, and frankly, you really wanted to excuse yourself and find iwaizumi, but the brunette was whining and complaining about his problems; which you have no choice but to listen to him. you found oikawa somewhat amusing, even though he was always up to no good, very cunning and an absolute prick, but oikawa was actually not a bad person; it's just sometimes - he didn't know how to express his emotions.

"i hate autumn, it makes me all gloomy and sad." - oikawa.

you sighed, putting your hands in your blazer pocket while walking back home. you agreed to his statement, autumn made you feel lonely and depressed, the falling leaves and bare trees - and the atmosphere was totally different compared to summer and spring. the colours were less vibrant, and it was not as refreshing as these two seasons - when you saw flowers blooming and beautiful grasslands, smelling the pine trees as the warm sun drew out their fragrance, you felt happier; it makes you feel at ease. summer and spring give off lighthearted vibes, and you also believed that warm seasons made your mind rest and become refreshed.

in contrast, autumn is a bittersweet season.

it reminds you of both teenagers falling in love when they first met each other, walking among the flower fields, watching the sunset on the beach, and laughter and chatter fill the air - when the weather starts to get colder, it all felt like a daydream, flowers stopped blooming, leaves falling, the once vibrant colours turned dull and monochromatic, only reddish, orange and brown, they said spring and summer is a season of cliches; you could hear birds singing and bee buzzing, it's love in the air - when it comes to autumn, then it's not the case. it's a repetitive cycle, autumn means ever-approaching endings, a threat of frost creeping in anytime, heartbreaking events, romantic love fades away and forms a bittersweet memory that can only be kept inside your heart.

you dislike autumn.

a crunching sound could be heard when you're stepping on these dry leaves, you frowned as you kicked away some of the branches along the pathway, you're worried about him, and you knew that something was up when he just ditched you and didn't inform you that he'll be leaving the court first, which made you feel anxious. "autumn is definitely a stupid season." you mumbled.

you passed by a big field, and you saw iwaizumi hajime sitting on a bench.

you let out a long sigh, slowly approaching him and put your bag beside him, you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed him curiously. "oi, what is wrong...with you..." your voice trailed off when you saw his puffy red cheeks and swollen eyes, he quickly stood up and avoided eye contact with you, iwaizumi hajime didn't expect that - absolutely not expecting that you're here, he felt ashamed, and you wouldn't expect that he had fallen to such a state. "what are you doing here?" he spoke in a harsh tone, grabbing his backpack and trying to leave, you quickly pulled his arm and dragged him to sit beside you.

"you're so stubborn, tell me about it."

"i have nothing to say."

"bullshit. i saw you standing outside your house yesterday at 2 am," you spat.

"you what?!" iwaizumi was surprised, looking at you in disbelief. "how did you know -" you interrupted him while he was speaking, "iwaizumi hajime, i'm serious here, i'm worried about you, what happened? you know you can always talk to me." you said, hugging your backpack and waiting for him to speak. he sighed, and took a deep breath, "my parents want a divorce, some sort of thing...then...uh...it makes me overwhelmed?...ah, forget it, i don't speak to anyone about this..."

iwaizumi hajime hates himself for being weak.

"oh, so you think that pushing your feelings away will sort out your problems? do you think acting strong is the best way to overcome your issues? we all are humans, crying is just an expression, there's nothing wrong with it, you know?" you grabbed his wrist gently and continued, "you said it makes you overwhelmed, and that's fine. it's understandable, you shouldn't keep everything to yourself, showing your weakness doesn't define you, iwaizumi." he bit his lip harshly, in a weak attempt to stop his tears flowing out from his eyes, though he tried, the stored tears continued to flow and the sobs wracked his body, robbing it of the ability to speak. iwaizumi was strong, he was tough, your heart aches when he was breaking down right in front of you, to think that he's been going through a lot of problems by himself makes you want to stay by his side.

when you looked up to the night sky, the stars were glowing brightly, each one was more of a golden yellow orb, and it was different from the stars that you've usually seen for the past few weeks, which their colours were slightly misty and white; a typical autumn night. but today was different, the moon was shining in the middle of blazing stars, definitely a picturesque view. you turned around and looked at him, he closed his eyes, a rattled sigh passing through his parted lips as he did so.

it was a cold autumn night.

"i'm sorry," he spoke softly.

"for what?"

"uh...i didn't wait for you today because i saw you're talking to oikawa, i didn't want to bother you." you let out a laugh, and then you put your hand over your mouth as you found it hilarious and adorable. iwaizumi frowned and pouted angrily, his ears were completely red due to embarrassment.

"i'm serious, i'm sorry."

"it's fine, iwa-chan, please don't ditch me again, i feel lonely," you replied, mimicking oikawa's tone. he smiled, shaking his head, "you are so annoying."

maybe you're older than iwaizumi, maybe you have experienced many shitty things throughout your teenage years, and maybe you have an abusive family that makes you sympathize with those people who're experiencing the same thing as you - more specifically, family issues. when you looked at iwaizumi again, he looked exhausted. you knew exactly how he felt, you knew that it was hard to deal with these things alone, the more you thought about it, you began to feel depressed.

and that's what you feel about autumn; a series of heartbreaking events.

"let's walk back home together," he said.

when he stood up, you pulled iwaizumi into a tight embrace.

"...i'm always here for you."

#haikyuu #haikyuufic #iwaizumihajime #iwaizumi x reader #moonboofic #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumific

[aliasimagines]

face down // j.t.

warnings: abusive relationship, abuse, beating, strong language

🎶insp.

Jason and Y/N were best friends since day 1. They were always there for each other. Y/N could always run to Jason if she had a problem and he would always come up with a solution (or if words didn't work Jay would beat anyone who made his best friend sad). Jason could always count on Y/N; if he was sad or angry she could always make him feel better, no matter what.

Y/N was there when Jason found his mother; when Bruce took him in, when he became the new Robin. When he died and when he come back to life. Everything that happened to Jason, Y/N knew about it. She knew about the Outlaws, she was even friends with Roy and Kori. Y/N even helped them out a few times during missions, as much as Jason disagreed with the idea of his best friend running around in a supersuit with them. He doesn't want Y/N to get hurt, or worse. He couldn't forgive himself. And he couldn't live without her; without her voice as she comforted him; without her fingers playing with his hair when they were having movie nights or without her beautiful smile... Because, the thing is, that Jason is hopelessly in love with Y/N.

But she had a boyfriend, his name is Zack and as far as Jason knows he made her happy.

And Jay knows Y/N. So when Jason sees her walk towards the table he is sitting at, in front of the café, he instantly knows that something is not right.

It was the middle of summer but Y/N is wearing a long sleeved shirt with a red scarf that Jason got her for last christmas.

"You freezing or what?" Jason heard himself saying before got up to hug the girl.

"Jeez, good morning to you too, Mr. I Wear Leather Jacket and Boots All The Fucking Time." Y/N quietly chuckled as she carefully hugged back the vigilante, trying not to hiss when Jason wrapped his muscular arms around her, touching her hidden bruises. "Can't I wear a nice outfit for once?"

"You always look nice ,princess." 'Beautiful, even' he tought to himself than gestured towards the two iced coffees on the table. "I already ordered us drinks"

"Hmm my favorite! You know me so well Jaybird!" the girl sat down and instantly took a sip of the coffee. "Gosh this has caramel in it?! I love you!"

Jason grabbed his cup too and brought it to his lips. "Yeah, yeah I know you do. But what's up Y/N? I haven't seen you for a whole month!"

"Don't look at me like that! I'm not the one who went away for a top secret mission!" Y/N whisper shouted than continued "But I'm fine... Tell me about the mission!"

Jason raised his eyebrows. She only said 'I'm fine' and then moved on. Something is totally wrong.

"I can't, sorry. It's top secret. Buuut you could tell me what's wrong. Cause something is wrong. I can see"

Y/N opened her mouth than closed it not knowing how to respond. Jason leaned forward and put his large hand on Y/N's.

"You know you can tell me everything, N/N."

"I know Jay....it's just.." she took a deep breath before continuing "I just had a small fight with Zack but that's all."

"What? Why? Are you okay? You can stay at my place if you want."

A nervous laughter left her lips as she shook her head.

"No it's fine. It was just a silly argument. I don't even know why we started it. But don't worry it will be fine, we always make up. I just couldn't really sleep because of it." Y/N lifted her coffe to her mouth again.

"What do you mean by 'we always make up'. Do you fight often?"

"Fuck" Y/N cursed quietly for letting that information slip that she indeed had a few fights in the past. "I.. Yeah. But it's fine. We always make up in a few hours."

Jason couldn't believe his ears. When did this happen? When did Y/N started to hide these kind of things from him?

"For how long?" was the only thing he could say.

Y/N looked at her glass, the table, at her shoes, everywhere except for the beautiful blue eyes of Jason.

"For... A few months." Y/N hoped that Jason wouldn't hear from the noise of the few passing cars but when she saw his face fall, she knew Jason heard her clearly.

She closed her eyes, expecting Jason to shout at her but instead she felt his arms wrapping around her.

"Why didn't you tell me, princess?" Y/N hugged back Jay while fighting the tears in her eyes.

"I... I didn't want to worry you. I thought I could handle it on my own."

"And you could?"

No.

"I..." No. There's no way she will Jason about how Zack... How he hurt her. That would only cause unnecessary problems. "Kinda. I think I need to talk to him but... Yeah. Everything will be fine. I can handle it"

"Are you sure? I can help if you want me to." he smoothed her hair away from her face. Jason wasn't really convinced but he is not going to push her, she doesn't need more stress. Y/N shook her head.

"Thank you Jay but it's better if I do it alone." she finally looked in his eyes. "Seriously Jay. Thank you for being here for me."

"Of course, you do the same for me. Now, do you wanna go somewhere else? To get your mind off of it."

"Yes, that would be nice."

Jason pulled you to your feet and held out his hand for you.

"I know just the place. Please follow me, M'lady." laughing at his adorable attempt of a british accent Y/N linked their arms together and followed him.

(a few hours later)

Y/N pushed the front door open with her free hand. She put down her paperbag full of books and closed the front door. Just when she turned the keys in the lock she heard a voice from behind her.

"Where were you?"

Even though the voice was quite calm and gentle, it took Y/N by surprise making her jump a little.

"Holy shit Zach you scared the living shit out of me!" the girl snaped as she finally turn around to find his boyfriend. The man looked down at his feet, ashamed and clearly feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry baby... What I did last night... I went too far. I know and I want to apologize" he reached out, his eyes finally raised to meer Y/N's, and tried to brush away a lock of hair but she flinched away. Pictures of yesterday popped in to her head and she drew in a sharp breath.

Zack stood above her, shouting about how she was a bitch because of the way she dressed. He went on and on about how a guy was checking her out and how Y/N flirted with him even though she didn't even acknowledged the guy but Zach didn't want to hear about it. He raised his hand and... Y/N shook his head trying to forget it.

"Look Zach I... I really don't want to talk about it."

"It won't happen again baby." he leaned down to kiss the girl but Y/N backed away.

"Yeah. But how many times have you promised?" the words just seemed to slip out on there own against the girl's will. Even though it was a quiet whisper Zach must have heard it cause he tilted his head in curiosity.

"What was that?"

Y/N looked at him with a sudden confidence.

"I... you say that all the time. I'm getting sick of always believing your lies"

Y/N truly believed that Zach was going to hit her so she shut her eyes close. So when she felt his fingers caressing her cheeks she froze on the spot.

"Is that so, princess?" Zach leaned so close that his lips brushed against her  (skin color) skin. His voice sounded so sweet. Too sweet. "You say you're sick of my lies? Hmm? Than tell me where were you baby."

"You know that I was out with Jason"

"Of course I know you were with him but who is he to you?"

"What? I don't..."

"Just answer the damn question!" his mellifluous tone sounding angrier with each sentence.

"He is my best friend, Zack."

"Ahaa!" Zack screamed excitedly making Y/N jump. "There it is! Our first lie."

"I know he is more than that! Hell even that lady tought that he was your boyfriend when we were at the cinema!"

"Only because you were tying your shoelaces and the lady only saw Jason standing next to me! Jesus Zack! This happened months ago, don't start this shit again!"

Zack straight up ignored Y/N and continued.

"And you didn't even try to correct her! You just stood there, laughing nervously, glancing at that bastard. If I wouldn't have been there you would have agreed,wouldn't, you? Maybe even grab his hand, hmm? Lay your head on his shoulder and giggle? Like the little bitch you are... "

" Holly shit, Zack! Do you hear yourself?! Are you insane? I. Have. Never. Cheated. On. You. Can you understand? I fucking loved you! How can even say these things?"

Zack step back a little, so Y/N didn't feel so trapped. She couldn't read anything off of his face. He just stared at her blankly. A few seconds passed like this making a terrible tension, and just when Y/N was about to say something, Zack's quiet voice broke the silence.

"... loved...

        loved?

            LOVED?!" by the end he was shouting at her, screaming like a maniac. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'LOVED'?! you don't love me anymore?"

"... How can I, Zack? How can I love you after the things you have done to me? I refused to say this for so long, because I still had some hope... But now I know that you're not the man I fell in love with. Zack. I'm breaking up with you. "

What came after is blurred, Y/N didn't know what happened first. Zack pushing her against the door or him grabbing her by the neck making her gasp out for air in pain.

" You are not breaking up with me" he tossed her on the floor and kicked her toward the couch. "You hear me you bitch? You're not breaking up with me!!" he hovered over her, slowly raising his hand to slap him.

                                                          ~°~

After saying his goodbyes to Y/N, the smile slowly froze off Jason's face. Something's not right. Something's not fucking right.

That's all he could think of as he went up on top of the building. There's more to it.

Thoughts like this crossed his mind as he sat done on the edge of the roof, next to his favorite gargoyle. He reached in his pocked for a box of cigarettes, pulled one out and placed it in his mouth. Looking down at the city, Jason took a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled. Looking down he saw cars passing by and tiny silhouettes of humans crossing the road.

He always loved to sit here. Back then when he was younger, when he was Robin, he like to come up because he always felt like he is in control. Like he is on top of everything and noone can tell him what to do. And now he is here because he doesn't know what to do.

Sighing he run his free hand through his hair and then grabbed his phone. Unlocking it he opened the contacts and scrolled down to the letter 'R' and clicked on the name Roy. As the archer picked up, Jason put him on speaker and placed his phone on his thigh.

"Hey man, whats up?" Roy asked holding his phone with his shoulder so he could stir the boiling pasta.

"Hi Roy. I..uhm met Y/N today."

"Uuuu! How is the little N/N?"

Jay shook his head, even though he knew Roy couldn't see him. He quickly exhaled some smoke before speaking.

"Honestly? I don't know."

"What? You always know what's going on with her!"

"I thought so too. But it seems like I was wrong."

"Okay, tell me everything bud. I'm listening." the ginger haired man walked over to the fridge to get some cheese.

"It's about her boyfriend. She said that they are fighting. And she was...so wierd, man. I think she is not telling me everything."

"Well shit. I wasn't expecting that. Hmm... I don't know Jaybird. You 100% sure it her boyfriend? You're not jealous or anything?"

"What!? No! You know that I love her, and all I want is her to be happy but she is not Roy! I'm telling ya, something's fucked up."

"Than I think you should pay her another visit. Just to check everything's cool and maxbe we could all get together for the weekend. Maybe she'll open up if we are all there for her."

"Yeah that's a good idea. I'm gonna check in if she's fine. Thanks, bud!"

" 'f course. Call me if you need me Jay."

" 'kay. Bye!"

Jason hang up and finished his cigarette. He got up and decided that jumping from building to building will be faster that walking to Y/N's apartment. Not that it's that far away but Jay wanted to hurry for some reason.

                                                           ~°~

Just as Zack raised his hand to slap Y/N, the sound of breaking glass rang through their home, making Zack stop and look up in suprise.

"What the fucking hell is...." but he couldn't finish cause a very angry Jason jumped on him causing both of them to end up on the floor. Jason sat on top of Zack as he started to beat him up.

Y/N layed there still scared and shocked, silently crying as she listened to the terrible yet satisfying sound of Jason's fist meeting with Zack's face, over and over again.

Lost track of time, the girl slowly sat up trying to catch her breath. After that she crawled next to Jason and put her hand on his.

"Jay.. Stop. He is not worth it..."

Jason looked at his best friend and he felt his heart skipping a beat as he saw the bruises on her neck which was no longer covered by the scarf, as it fell down as Zack pushed her on the floor.

Jason stood up and grabbed his gun so quickly that Y/N couldn't even process his movements for a second. But when she did, she jumped to her feet too. Jason had the gun aimed at the bastards head but Y/N grabbed his hand.

"No, Jay. Please don't."

"You can't be protecting him after this!"

"I am not protecting him, Jay. But I don't want you to have this on your conscience too. No, the police will take care of him."

"Y/N..."

"Can we leave now? Please?"

Jason's eyes softened as he lowered his gun. He nodded and gestured towards the door. Y/N slowly walked towards it but Jason leaned down and whispered in Zack ear before moving away from his half conscious body.

"You're lucky she is here. Otherwise I would have gutted you. And don't worry, I'll make sure you rot some place terrible. Like... Arkham? A sick bastard like you would fit just right in with the rest of the freaks." he finished his little speech with a good kick in his stomach and ran to catch up with Y/N.

#tw: abuse #tw:abusive relationship #jaosn todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd one shot #red hood x reader #red hood one shot #dc one shot #roy harper #alias imagines

[thestarwrites]

All right, All Might: Ch. 4

Word Count: 3,757

Rating: PG

Painting: Toshinori Yagi X FemOC

The UA Guidance Counselor, a quirk user with Pathokenesis, is shocked to find out her personal hero All Might is coming to be a teacher. The road they walk as a parallel starts to merge and there’s no telling what could happen.

-----

CHAPTER FOUR: THAT’S HIGH SCHOOL FOR YOU

Keri sat in her office, it was early in the morning. She took a deep breath and tried to push down her nerves. She was extremely excited to welcome the students from classes 1-A and 1-B, as well as the support course heroes — but she was dreading seeing /him/. Toshinori Yagi.

The rest of the summer had passed without them seeing each other. It killed her. It had nothing to do with the fact he was All Might, and everything to do with how much she missed his idle chatter, his laugh, his smile, the way his deft fingers felt when he held her hand. She missed her friend. Keri thought of a million ways to apologize, to reach out - but they never seemed good enough. And he never reached out either, she figured it was pointless.

She had bought him a new set of handkerchiefs with his own initials branded on them to use as the pocket squares in the suits he wore - they were in America’s colors. Maybe it would be the kind of apology gift she needed to get things back on track with him. It sat under her desk in a gift bag with a bottle of sake.

Looking down at her phone, she watched the time tick to the next minute before setting her forehead down onto the desk with a groan.

“Can I come in?”

She felt her skin prickle with the somber masculine voice behind her. Turning she looked up and was met with the blue eyes of Toshinori. He was dwarfed by the extra fabric of his suit, “Of course, All Might…”

He took a few steps forward and closed the door, “Keri- I-“

“All Might, I’m so so sorry.” She blurted out first.

He looked taken aback and he walked to her, getting onto one knee and grabbing her hand in his, “No — I’m the one who’s sorry. You were in distress and I took is personally—“

“No! No you were just trying to protect me and Izuku and I was behaving like a spoiled kid—“

“No you weren’t, please—“

She started to cry as she slid off of her chair and wrapped her arms around Toshinori’s neck, “I missed you so much.”

He felt his own eyes prick with tears as he held her firmly to his small form, “I missed you too. The last couple of weeks have been so hard — I was lost without you.”

Nodding against him she squeezed a little tighter, “I wrote about a zillion I’m sorry texts— nothing seemed right…”

“I did the same thing—“ He admitted, “I- one night I was outside your apartment with flowers looking like a burglar… I couldn’t face how ashamed I felt… the way I lashed out at you…”

“I said horrible things to you All Might - I didn’t mean any of them…” She pulled back to look at him, “You’re my hero, you’re my friend… I don’t think anything bad about you.”

He nodded and swallowed down tears, “I don’t think anything bad about you either.”

“All Might I’m —“

“Keri… please… stop calling me All Might,” he pushed her hair back, “ My name is Toshinori. I’m your friend. Right? I’m just plain old annoying Toshinori.”

She nodded and hugged him, “Toshi…” She whimpered gently into his ear.

He relaxed into the embrace finally once she said his name. He felt complete again now that he and his best friend had made up, he had been so lonely. When he hadn’t been doing entry videos, paperwork, hero work, or training izuku, he was in his shabby apartment alone, thinking about her and how badly he messed up.

Pulling back she wiped a tear from his cheek, “Oh I— I have something for you…”

“You got me something…” he watched as she went to grab the bag from under her desk and return with it, “Keri - you didn’t have to get me anything after what happened, there was nothing to—“

“Open it, please,” she started, “as an apology, and also as a congratulations for your first day as a teacher.”

All Might looked down, taking the bag and opening it, “A bottle of sake —“ he stopped and pulled out the pocket squares and smiled brighter.

“I- I figured you might not have pocket squares that fit your personality - and since you might need a spare handkerchief now and then-“

He ran his fingers over one he pulled out, “This has my initials on it.”

“Yeah of course,” She smiled, “You’re a professor, you should have something fancy.”

He swallowed and looked up at her, “I love them.”

Smiling she wiped her eyes, “Here— let me help you put it in your pocket.” Patho showed him how to fold the perfect pocket square, and she placed one into his suit pocket, adjusting it, “There. Now you look perfect.”

All Might looked down at it and smiled thoughtfully, “You’ll come over tonight to help me drink this sake, wont you? To celebrate our first day as coworkers, and our first day back to being friends?”

“Sure thing,” She nodded and hugged him again, “I’m so glad we’re okay.”

“Me too, Patho.”

Taking a deep breath she stood, offering her hands to help him up, “Okay Mister Yagi, you better dust yourself off and get ready for a day of being inspirational!”

Standing with her help, he powered up and towered over her in his buff body, “I won’t let you down, miss.” He chuckled and winked, kissing both her hands, “You’re going to be great today too. God I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

Keri moved to jump into his arms, wrapping her arms around his thick shoulders, “I’m glad you don’t hate /me/!” They laughed and he spun them around before setting her down.”

“I’LL SEE YOU AT LUNCH.”

She laughed as he exited the class room.

——

After orientation, Keri rushed to head up to the teacher’s lounge where she knew All Might would be resting up, getting ready to bulk up and teach. She skidded into the room, “Toshi— Aizawa he—“

“I know, he’s got Midoriya.” He hummed miserably, “This is going to be hard.”

“Homeboy made his class skip orientation, they’re outside using their quirks to do physical tests. Last year he made a girl cry saying someone would be expelled—“

“WHAT.” All Might sat up straighter, “He can’t! He’s going to single out Young Midoriya— He can’t use his quirk yet—“

“Calm down. He never expels someone on the first day— but it makes my job hard for the first few weeks of school.” She grunted, “I just wanted to let you know- I’m going to go down there and keep my fucking eyes on him. He hates that.”

“I’m coming.” He bulked up and adjusted his tie.

She rolled her eyes, “Now it’s going to seem like more than just me going down there to keep his harsh ass in line.”

“No I— I’ll hide and watch from the sidelines!”

“You. Hide.” She looked him up and down, “Toshi, you’re huge.”

“I AM VERY VERSATILE.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulled her sweater on, “Whatever you say.”

The two heroes headed down to the field. All Might stopped behind a building to look on, a concerned smile on his face as Keri walked with an authority he had never seen before onto the field. She did not walk like a new teacher under thirty - she walked like… Nana…

The older man hissed at Deku, “—You’d be nothing more than a liability-“

“AIZAWA.” The female’s voice rang out as he had Izuku wrapped up in his scarf.

He grunted, “Get out of my class, Patho. I’m working.”

“Making my life a living hell is what you’re doing.”

He kept his red eyes on Midoriya as Keri approached, “I’m teaching. I don’t need your schoolgirl play nice crap. We don’t even need a guidance counselor here. And besides, Nezu warned you about interfering.”

“And Nezu warned you too.” Her body started to glow pink, balls of light forming over each fingertip, she pointed at Eraserhead, “Let the kids finish their own ways. You have no right. They all passed the same exams.”

He shot a look at her and her glowing stopped, “Don’t use your quirk on me.”

“Then don’t use yours on Izuku.”

The kids looked on in awe.

“Who the fuck is that, nerd? What is she twelve?” Bakugo grunted under his breath.

A boy with red hair stepped up, “She was glowing like… like in that Wizard of Oz movie…”

“That’s the lady that came to make sure I was okay after the exam,” Ururaka started, “Mister Aizawa is right, she’s the guidance counselor. She has a quirk that can help you to feel better.”

“A quirk that can make you feel better? Psh- what baby shit.” The blond grunted.

“I returned your dangerous quirk. Take your final throw.” Eraserhead backed off of Izuku and then shot a warning look to Patho, who moved to stand with the other children. The triangle on her head glowing pink once more.

“Excuse me- miss?” The Redhead came over to her with a bashful smile, “I’m Eijirou Kirishima.” He held out his hand.

She chuckled and shook it, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eijirou. I’m Keri Chairo, the school’s guidance counselor. I think we should respect the class and pay attention to Izuku, but if you’d like to talk after class, my office is right upstairs, okay? Door’s always open.”

He blushed and smiled, “Thank you Miss Keri.” He turned his attention back to Deku.

“Nerd.” Bakugo chastised.

Ida whispered to Ururaka, “She’s so diplomatic.”

“I know! And look at her cool haircut! Shaved on one side, long on the other…” She whispered back.

Keri looked over to the worried face of All Might and she steeled herself - she wouldn’t inspire Izuku, that wouldn’t be right. He could do it, he was tenacious. Swallowing she looked back toward him as he moved to throw the ball. The sonic snap that came with it flung the ball into the sky and she grinned.

After a few moments of silence, “Mister Aizawa.” He grunted and looked back, “Look, I’m still standing.”

Patho grinned, “Excellent—“ She stopped, her skin prickling as she felt pure unadulterated rage and jealously from — the blond. What was his name again - Katsuki?

“WOW! That was so cool!!” Ururaka jumped up and clapped.

Ida held his chin, “It looks like his finger is broken… what a strange quirk.”

“WHAT!??!!?! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, WHAT DID YOU DO!?” A scream erupted from Bakugo as he started to run at Deku. Patho began to jump into action when Aizawa’s scarf flew into action first and strapped around the teenager. He struggled and screamed, “WHY IS YOUR DAMN SCARF SO STRONG!?”

“Its made out of carbon fiber and a metal alloy. Stand down Bakugo.” The blonde grunted and finally relented.

“I’ll leave you to the rest of your class, Aizawa.” Keri finally stated, tossing a glance over to see All Might standing there. 
He sighed, “its about time.”

Rolling her eyes she walked up to Bakugo, a fierce look in her eyes, but the boy held his ground- he was afraid of nothing, “Katsuki. I want to see you in my office after class.”

“What?! What did I do!? I’m not going to the stupid guidance office!”

She gave him a look, “Listen to me young man, I am a teacher at this school and if I say jump you say how high- understand?”

He clenched his jaw and his fists.

“I said, I want to see you after class, Katsuki.”

“Whatever.” He looked down, he felt angry and fucking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

He hissed out, “Yes ma’am.”

She nodded and turned, waving to the class before she started to head off. Before she was out of earshot she heard Aizawa say something she’d never heard him say before, “Patho is a great support hero - you would all do well to respect what she says and her office.”

Smiling she turned the corner, only to have someone grab her arm — squeaking out the beginning of a scream until another hand covered her mouth - he realized it was All Might. Mumbling against his hand he raised his brows, “Ah! Sorry — I just didn’t want you to get too far—“

“Toshinori you scared the crap out of me!” She whispered.

“Wasn’t that cool!! Did you see what Young Midoriya did!?”

She nodded, “It was impressive. But you need to take the time to train that boy. He’s dangerous to himself — I personally am worried about that Katsuki Bakugo. His rage and jealousy and… hurt… is off the charts.”

“Well - if there’s anyone who could help him, it’s you, Ree.” He gave a thumbs up.

Sighing she shook her head, “I don’t know… He went to the same middle school as Izuku - back when Izuku had no quirk. This… this can be really dangerous, Toshi. I’ve looked over his scores too, he had some of the highest written exam grades, and he got the most points in the mock battle. He’s not stupid. He’s going to figure out there is a connection between you and Izuku sooner or later, mark my words.”

“That shouldn’t be so bad… they’re classmates.”

An exasperated breath came from the woman, “Toshi you don’t get it. I can /feel/ emotions. I can feel your pride on you, your doubt, your fear. I can feel it clearly if I concentrate specifically- but I can always feel emotions clearly if they are very strong. Katsuki is dripping with anger and something else…” She paused and thought about it for a moment, her eyes looking back and forth, “It’s a form of deep hurt, like- betrayal. He’s hurting really bad. That hurts me.”

“You’re so compassionate, Keri… you are going to be a good influence on these kids.”

Gently rubbing his arm she smiled, “You gonna come back upstairs with me - or do you want to stalk the kids some more?”

“Ah— I’m not stalking!”

She smiled mischievously and winked, “See you later on, Toshi.”  Walking back up toward the entrance of the school, her face turned grave once more as her thoughts drifted to Bakugo. He was hurt in some way, it was her duty to speak with him, to try and help. She wasn’t much older than these kids - only twelve years their senior - which is something Principal Nezu said was an advantage. That they would probably want to talk to her before anyone else.

Taking a deep breath, she moved into her office to wait for young Katsuki.

——

About ninety minutes passed and then the door to her office opened, “I’m here.” The gruff voice called out, “What the hell is this about?”

"Good afternoon Katsuki,” Keri said with a soothing smile, “Come in — can I get you some tea? I think I have some cake in the fridge.”

“I don’t like sweets.”

She smiled, “Tea?”

“No. Can you just tell me what the hell this is about so I can go home. I have training to do.”

Keri took a deep breath and motioned to the sofa, “Please, Katsuki, sit down.”

“I don’t need a shrink.” He said angrily.

“I just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. You’re a loser.” He let his temper get the best of him - besides, she was young, and she had a stupid quirk. She wasn’t a hero.

Kerri just smiled and nodded, “I knew a lot of boys like you when I was in high school.”

“Tch- you didn’t know anyone like me. I heard you didn’t even go to UA.”

“No, you’re right, I didn’t.” She sat down, setting two cups of tea down, picking up her own and taking a sip, “I went to Ketsubutsu Academy High School.”

Bakugo let out a chuckle, “Thats fucking pathetic you know. How are you even a teacher here?”

There it was. Interest. Kelly shrugged, “I know it’s pathetic - I dreamed of going to UA you know, when I was a kid. I wanted to be just like All Might and save people with a smile on my face.”

“Yeah, me too, big deal. That still doesn’t tell me why you went to such a loser school. Is it because you’re a loser?”

“My quirk allows me to feel and manipulate emotions,” She looked up at him over her eyelashes, “ I wasn’t strong enough to be a fighter as a teen, but I knew that All Might wouldn’t give up, so I didn’t either. So I went to the school I could, and then I went to college.”

“College? Heroes don’t go to stupid college.” Katsuki drifted to sit on the other chair with his arms crossed.

“I did. Because I knew how hard Hero Academies were, I cried all the time.”

“Nerd.” He absentmindedly reached for the tea, taking a drink of it black.

“Exactly. When I picked my hero name, Patho, the boys in my class who were the strongest called me Psycho-path.”

He smirked, “Thats pretty good.” He hummed for a minute, “I would have called you Patho-logical.”

Kelly laughed, “Thats thinking out of the box all right - I think you’re probably smarter than most of the adults in this school, Katsuki.”

Now that caught him off guard, and he sipped his tea. Even his own mother didn’t admit things like that to him, “Yeah I know.”

She sipped her own tea, letting that one sit for a minute.

“What kind of cake is in the fridge?”

Bingo.

“Its a lemon cake.”

There was a long pause as he looked out the window, “I like lemon.”

She nodded and stood up, crossing to the little kitchenette area, “Your quirk is really impressive, you know that already I’m sure. I didn’t see any kids last year with a quirk as strong. And you already seem to know exactly how to use it - that puts you ahead of your classmates, Katsuki.”

He nodded, listening for once.

“That makes you… a big brother in some way.”

His ears perked and he looked over from where he stared out the window, “What?”

She set the cake and a fork in front of him and smiled, “That makes you like… a big brother to your class, like a guardian. And with that, like being a great hero, comes with a responsibility to help steer them in a good direction.” If she couldn’t talk to him about his feelings, she could use his ego to manipulate him without him realizing.

He picked up the cake, eating in silence.

“I understand how confusing it must be for you knowing Izuku all your life — when I met him about a month ago, it didnt appear he was much to look at.” “Got that right. Deku’s a loser.”

“But I am too, right?”

He looked up, “Yeah.” He huffed, “But you’re okay to talk to I guess. You’re not stuck up and preachy.”

“All losers have some purpose you know, Katsuki.” She smiled, “Even if its just to give teenage boys lemon cake.”

“So what was going to college like? Probably shitty.”

Keri smiled and ate her own cake, “People there are either quirkiness or have some sort of intelligence quirk - or even ones that aren’t very useful.”

“Like you.”

“Like me.” She nodded, “But I decided to go into a field that helped me use my quirk to its advantage. I mean - think about all the people down on the streets during disasters or villain attacks. They have to be afraid, or sometimes they’re foolish enough to think they can run into battle to help.”

“That nerd Deku did that.”

“I’m there to make sure they stay calm. That no one gets in the hero’s way.”

Bakugo knitted his brows together, “I guess - that’s a good idea.”

“And that’s what I do here too, but its to make sure a young upcoming hero doesn’t get in their own way.”

He looked up.

“You have so much potential, and you’re focusing more on things that don’t benefit your promising career, understand? You want to be the best. You have to focus. You’re a strong guy, Katsuki, the other kids will follow you. If you show them you’re a leader- they’ll follow.”

He finished his cake a cleared his throat, pushing a hand in his hair, cheeks slightly pink, “Is it okay if I get going?”

She nodded, “Of course- its getting late, and you need to train.”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, “Uh- thanks for the cake and whatever, Pathological.” He smirked.

Kelly smiled and moved to open the door, “If you ever have any questions or want some snacks or sweets- you know where I am.”

“Yeah. Yeah I— yeah.” He cleared his throat, “See you, nerd.”

“Have a safe walk home, Katsuki.”

The boy left her office and she nodded to herself, feeling like she accomplished something today.

------

After half an hour, Toshinori walked into the room in his small form, “We still on for dinner tonight, Ree?”

Turning she smiled, “Hey— yeah of course,” She nodded.

“You look pleased with yourself… I just saw young Bakugo walking out of the building, did you have him up here?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I had to figure out how to start to establish a report with him… I got through a bit with flattery and self deprecation.”

“Self deprecation!?” He grunted.

She took a deep breath, “He made fun of me and called me a loser, and I let him, and played into it. It slowly got him to ask questions and have a piece of cake so… here’s hoping.”

Sighing Toshinori came to her and wrapped his arms around her, “You’re not a loser.”

Keri held around his thin frame, “I know, Tosh, I’m just trying to use what I know to get through to him, she looked up at him and he kissed her forehead, “Thank you.”

He smiled, “Hey, don’t even mention it, what are friends for? You obviously touched on something with young Bakugo if he sat down and let his guard drop a little,” Sighing gently he nodded, “Come on, let’s act like a tree and leaf.”

“You’re such a goon.”

“You keep saying that.” He smirked, “Watch out or you’re going to give me a complex.”

Keri laughed and wrapped her arm around his, “Come on- lets go.”

“Yes ma’am.”

#toshinori x oc #all might x oc #toshinori yagi #my hero academia fanfiction #ua high

[kitten-keith]

Horrid Self Indulgence

Wrote this long thing and now it’s gone cause I posted it to the wrong account and copy paste didn’t work so /fuck me/ anyway.

The whole following fic is purely self indulgent garbage, thus the name (it’s even called this in my google docs because I HAD A PLAN for what I was doing and it was supposed to be insanity) though as usual things get derailed and Idk. I had wanted to get into the hijinks of this concept but lost steam after starting the second bit. But the first bit can stand alone. ish. I guess.

Idk. It’s all completely ridiculous though so idk have fun.

Klance, slightly intoxicated, sharing a bed, Keith is uncomfortable AF and Lance is trying to be chill about it. Weird head shit and accidental rituals. You’ll see. Seriously. Horrid self indulgence.

-----

It was a pleasant moment between comrades that went horribly, heinously, horrifically wrong. 

And if that’s what bonding with Keith friggin Kogane gets him then absolutely not, never again.

It was such a simple stupid fuck up. How was he supposed to know?!

They were at a dinner, stumbling awkwardly through an alien planets customs, trying unsuccessfully to pretend they were okay with the garbs they’d been forced to wear and that the food didn’t make them nauseous when Lance had made the biggest mistake ever and looked at Keith. 

See, because he was the leader his attire had to display this-this—nobility. And god, Keith was anything but noble. He was sitting to the right of the planet’s leader, Allura across from him, and he looked like they might as well have sat him at the kids table with how his brows furrowed and he looked at the ground like he was trying not to cry.

His face was red enough to match the silk scarf loosely clinging to his shoulders and his thumbs rubbed absently over his ungloved hands. He was bare aside from the scarf and a darker one wrapped around his waist for modesty that he’d had to fight for. Apparently this planet had no concept of an external penis or whatever and needed to be educated on human biology before they gave in to Keith’s demands. 

The whole thing was about respect, leaving yourself bare to show you had nothing to hide, but to remind everyone of his station the locals had him decked out in jewels from head to toe. They were braided into his hair, dangling from thin chains across his chest, Lance was positive there was some sort of jeweled sandal decorating his tiny delicate toes too. 

(And not because he paid attention to that sort of thing. Just. Ya know. Shiny shit.) 

Allura was actually dressed about the same though being a woman with no external penises she was actually way nakeder than Keith. And, as she was a full on princess they’d given her a whole slew of silver that had strategically covered all necessary bits that Lance’s mother might have flinched at. 

Not that Allura seemed to give a fuck in the slightest and even seemed to enjoy it as she spoke animatedly to the world leaders, the jewels on her body making small clinking noises with every movement. 

Lance had spotted perfect (and he means perfect) dark nipples exactly 16 times since they’d all sat down to their meal and absolutely couldn’t take it anymore so that was when he’d turned his attention to Keith. 

And somehow had been unable to turn away from him since.

The other Paladins were stripped some and given a few shiny baubles. Lance himself was wearing flowy pants slit up the sides over the dark boxers he’d thankfully been allowed to continue wearing. A couple gold plated necklaces and an arm band and he was good to go. Lance has no issue being topless and actually kinda liked the style. Hunk was a bit more uncomfortable, same pants, same boxer treatment (his were white with yellow suns on them, Lance clapped him on the back for unintentionally matching.) 

Hunk had the same kind of jewelry too but try all he might he couldn’t drop his hands from where they were wrapped around his chest.

He said he was cold repeatedly but lance figured he was just self conscious and offered him plenty of wolf whistles back in their dressing rooms because “man hunk you wanna bench press me later cause those arms are making me weak~!” 

But sadly it didn’t seem to work. 

Pidge was an interesting sell. Same bottom situation in her signature green but she’d also managed to get away with a pair of socks that she was no longer wearing on her feet.

They were providing just a hint more cover for her chest after she’d wrapped Lance’s, Hunks’s, and her own scarf around herself like a makeshift halter top. The locals hadn’t liked it and Allura had tried to explain that female breasts were nothing to be ashamed of but Pidge’s size and thus assumed age had granted her the “let the child be” excuse. 

And sure, Lance was a grown man who was all for equality and free the nipple and aaallll that jazz but if they had forced his pseudo baby sister to go topless he might have lost his absolute shit and gotten them all sent back to the castle. 

Not that that would have been the worst thing at this point because then he wouldn’t be staring at Keith like this— to avoid staring at Allura! Of course— and then he wouldn’t have gotten elbowed in the side by the Pidgeling and gotten the funny look from Hunk and nah man okay. 

Lance wasn’t ogling the leader of voltron. 

He wasn’t. 

He was just. 

Uh. 

Worried about him. 

Yeah, that’s right. Worried. 

Which was what lead him to follow Keith’s retreating form the second they were allowed to adjourn for the night. 

It’s what compelled him to bump his shoulder and wave a hand in greeting. 

And maybe that pout had something to do with Lance’s laughing, throwing his arm over his shoulders, and ushering him to his room for the night. 

“Come on dude, I've got something for you, stashed from that one planet with the abomination? You know the one… Kell? Krell? It’s good okay, better than what they just tried to feed us. Take the edge off.” 

Take the edge off. 

Famous last words? 

Keith groaned and wrapped his arms around himself tightly but nodded and willingly turned off course from his own room. Lance wondered if this was so easy because he’d been so beaten down by the day or because he actually found solace in Lance’s company. 

He didn’t have the nerve to ask and instead simply sauntered into his room, leaving Keith to stand idly by the newly shut door. 

“It tastes better than nunville but it’s a little stronger so you’re gonna wanna sip at it okay?” 

Keith nodded but his eyes looked glassy, like he wasn’t actually listening. 

Lance moved to his temporary rooms vanity setting and shuffled through his bottles of toiletries. When they’d decided to indulge the locals in their customs and stay a few nights basking in their hospitality Lance had been told to pack quickly but he hadn’t forgotten anything important. This included the little silver pouch that he’d somehow barely touched since keeping it with him all this time. 

He opened the pull top with his teeth to take a small sip before offering it to Keith who was still standing right against the door as if he was afraid to move. Considering how loose the scarf around his waist looked, he might have been. 

He did look… good though. 

Remarkably so. 

Amidst the finery and the sheer and silk fabrics, his hair in a loose braid over one shoulder and that almost permanent flush across his cheeks, he was beautiful and adorable and stunning all at once and it was doing ridiculous things to Lance’s chest. He almost regretted taking the sip that he did because he worried about what he might let slip aloud, looking at Keith like that, but as the alien substance travelled down his throat and warmed his body he kept his wits. He felt the buzzing under his skin but retained his sense. He was here to offer Keith a moment to relax. Nothing more.

He walked over to Keith and instead of handing him the pouch he resealed it and held it softly under one arm as he reached out with both hands for Keith’s waist. 

Keith flinched so hard his back hit the door, “what are you doing?!”

Lance rolled his eyes, pushing closer and grabbing on to the scarf around his waist tugging and tightening it for him. 

“Looked like you were having trouble.”

Keith’s flush was so hot Lance could practically feel it.

Poor thing. 

“Right… thanks…” he stayed against the door but took the pouch when Lance offered it. 

Lance turned to walk over to his bed and make himself comfortable and by the time he turned his attention back to Keith the boy was swallowing.

“You remembered what I said about that stuff being hard hitting… right?”

Keith shrugged.

Took another sip. (This one looked more like a sip at least. Maybe Lance wouldn’t have to carry him back to his room later.)

He sealed the stopper and looked around the room briefly before walking in the straightest line imaginable to sit on the foot of Lance’s bed, holding the pouch out to him again. 

Lance considered it, wondering if it would help or hinder his case to not make a fool of himself with Keith looking like that and decided why not. Besides, he could pace himself, unlike some people. 

When he finished taking his last sip, feeling the warmth and the contentment sitting in his stomach as he leaned back on his elbows on his bed, he hummed to himself and shut the top, putting it to the side. 

Keith shuffled around so his back was to the bed post and he placed his hands over his lap uncomfortably.

“So uh. Was—was that it?”

“Chill Keith. You’ve been looking so tightly wound today I figured you could use a break.” 

Keith visibly paled and moved to curl in on himself but thought better of it. His thumbs started to track back and forth over his fingers though. Bad sign. 

“Relax!” Lance demanded, stretching the vowel sounds to make it more playful. 

Keith neglected to heed this order and instead looked away. 

“Look, I doubt it’ll cause any problems, everyone knows their customs made you uncomfortable. Here, if you want you can go ahead and get under the covers.” Lance reached behind him and pulled up the bed sheets. It would help his own situation too. Cover Keith and that pretty skin of his up. Put that beautiful body away because his own was starting to get ideas he didn’t need. 

He remembered Allura looking just as beautiful if not more so and it helped for a second to feel better mentally but he was still fighting not to be turned on next to half naked (that was being generous) Keith. 

“That might actually be… are you sure? I could just— leave. I could leave.”

Lance rolled his eyes. 

“Would you chill if you left or would you stay up all night worrying about the kinds of impressions you’re leaving?”

Keith was silent. His thumb disappeared behind his pointer to dig his little blunt nail into his middle. 

“Get in the bed. Let me tell you stories.” 

Keith’s eyes lit up at that and for a moment he started forward to crawl across the bed toward where the sheets were up, but he stopped himself again. 

Lance sighed.

“Feeling exposed?”

Keith nodded.

“You know we showered together back at the garrison right? I’ve seen you naked. Completely naked. And lathered.”

Of course, this was before Lance’s full sexual awakening and before Keith had filled out like he did with those abs and thighs for days but uh— that wasn’t a necessary addition to the conversation it just wasn’t. 

Keith still flushed like a tomato and it made Lance’s little traitorous heart do a flip.

“Right right. I forget you didn’t even remember me from the garrison.” Lance offered sardonically, trying to shift the mood. 

Keith bit his lip. Man, even that looked good. Lance wanted to bite that lip. He could just see it. Lip to lip with Keith Kogane groaning out. Lance’s hand on his shoulder pushing him back on the bed, the other reaching beneath him to get a nice big handful of that round perky ass—

Okay. 

Okay maybe Keith shouldn’t get under the covers. 

Maybe he should leave. 

He should leave. 

He should—

Keith started to mumble something when Lance turned away and shut his eyes. 

“Alright you have ten seconds, go on princess.”

It was silent for a moment. 

Lance squeezes his eyes shut tightly because this was the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be doing.

“10.” 

But he was doing it.

“9”

There was the sound of Keith shuffling behind him, pulling up the sheets more and crawling into bed. He was getting comfortable by the time Lance reached 3 and Keith spoke up telling him he could stop. 

Lance nodded and turned around so he could face Keith, continue conversations, see if he could find a relevant story in his brain about his family or something simple back home that would help Keith unwind. 

Instead he was struck a bit dumb by Keith snuggled under his (always color coded) blue bed sheets, his inky black hair splayed out on the pillow. Lance had always thought Keith’s eyes were this remarkable shade of blue but surrounded by all the blue in his bed Lance realized he was wrong. They were clearly more of a violet, wide and staring at him under lashes that were too long and too elegant for a guy who made a living kicking furry alien chinchillas in the face.

And with that thought came the image of Keith kicking ass, those muscle toned legs under skin tight space suits…

Now basically bare and in his bed. 

Naked. 

Naked Keith in his bed. 

Naked Keith in his bed staring at him expectantly like— like—

Right. Right he was waiting for a story. 

Okay. 

Lance flopped onto his side, too close to Keith but in an effort to remain comfortable and casual it had to be done, and went back to racking his mind for an idea that didn’t involve pressing his body as close to Keith’s as physically possible. 

Something jingled as he went down and he remembered the abundance of jewels that had been decorating Keith’s body. 

There were still a few left in his hair that he seemed to not care about but it looked like the little jeweled sandals were there, as were the ones that had decorated his arms.

It took him a second but Lance scooped them up and put them on the bedside table before getting comfortable again. 

“Oh okay so, let me tell you about the time my big sister Veronica brought home the biggest stupidest “boyfriend” she could find…” 

Lance could see Keith smile just beneath the blanket. 

He reached out and started to pick the jewels out of Keith’s hair as he spoke, occasionally running his fingers through it. If Keith had a complaint he didn’t voice it. Besides, just because it was styled stupid didn’t make it any less soft.

By the time Lance got to the big reveal of the story, the part where Veronica had hired the guy to piss off their dad over an argument they’d had about Veronica’s openness to bringing a girlfriend home (maybe, in the future), Keith had completely knocked out.

And for some reason, Lance thought that was alright.

They could totally just. Sleep in the same bed. No problem.

With Keith wearing nothing but a silk scarf.

He thought this was a perfectly good idea as he showered and put on a fresh pair of boxers and crawled under his sheets to the sound of Keith’s light breathing.

He was a little dizzy, but forgot that the biggest after effect of inebriation was poor judgement, and easily curled up next to Keith.

Keith, who was just awake enough to take Lance’s hand.

Lance thought it was adorable.

Because Keith was adorable. 

And Lance wanted to be touching his skin like this (sort of) anyway.

It worked for him. 

He was sleepy too.

So sleepy he lapsed almost instantly into dreams.

Dreams of Allura dancing just out of his reach. Of her nonchalance at his flirting and efforts to be noticed by her. Making him feel useless. Undesirable. Unworthy.

He was so pathetic.

Keith’s voice was in his head. 

Telling him how kind he was. How sweet he was.

“I couldn’t do any of this without you Lance.”

“I need you.”

“I hope you know that. I hope you know that—if you could see yourself how I see you…”

“Lance you’re so…”

“I want…”

“I wish…”

Keith was at his side. Mumbling those nothings into his ear in little breathy sighs. 

It felt nice. 

It was nice to hear. 

Nice to feel Keith pressing in beside him.

“I wish you could see what I see in you… love yourself as much as I do...Lance, I…”

Well this was awfully self indulgent of him. Dreaming of a Keith who would say those kinds of things. As if the real Keith capital L Loved him. 

Like Lance hadn’t spent years trying to get his attention the same way he had with Allura too. 

As if he hadn’t gotten shot down with every attempt to—

“I liked you then too! I was just… afraid to let anyone in…”

“Liar, you didn’t even remember me.”

“That was the lie…”

“That was…?”

“You were so cute… always trying so hard… always going the extra effort to make people smile or laugh… I always thought you were…”

“You liked me back at the garrison? Like... one smoothie two straws, like-like…?”

Keith turned away, rolling onto his side. Face probably flushed a deep crimson again. Man he was so cute…!

“Like write your name in my notebook with a bunch of hearts, like-like… yeah.”

Extremely self indulgent dream. 

But Lance was gonna take it.

He squeezed himself close to Keith’s body, wrapping an arm around his chest as Keith jumped.

“And now you…?”

“Now I…”

It was silent. 

Lance tried to ignore how perfectly Keith’s ass cheeks felt pressed to his crotch.

He felt naked.

Naked Keith in his bed. Saying all these pretty hopeful things...What a perfect dream…

Lance gently bumped his hips. He couldn’t help it, and it was his dream after all right?

Keith was silent, but reached a hand back to slide down Lance’s waist, breathing loud.

Was that how Lance’s mind worked? Show me a love confession followed by an immediate bone. 

Lance’s wet dreams were clearly things of substance.

“Do you love me?”

He bumped his hips again. His dick hardening fast.

Keith’s fingers dug into Lance’s boxers, applying just enough pressure to drive him forward, keep him pressed to his ass.

“I do… do you…?”

“Hmm… never thought about it before.”

Keith made a low unhappy noise.

“I def love your face… your so fucking pretty face…” 

Keith went silent again. Lance ground his hips against him and his hard cock was finding a very comfortable place right between his cheeks. 

“And I love this body...your ass is heaven, Keith, wish you could feel this...” 

Keith was definitely naked. Naked enough that Lance was desperate to get out of his boxers. 

How could his dream provide him perfectly naked love confessing Keith and not leave Lance equally perfectly naked?

Sense, where was it?

“I love how brave you are… stupid and reckless and it drives me insane with worry. But brave.” 

Keith backed into Lance’s lap, rolling his hips and made Lance’s mind stutter.

“I love how—how much you care about things even when you don’t show it… I love your laugh…”

He could feel Keith’s entire body against his front, a single useless silk scarf around his waist, the rest probably lost somewhere in the bed. His hand found one of Keith’s nipples and he started to slowly rub his fingers around the nub causing Keith to raise his chest into the touch a bit more with a small high pitched sound.

“I love how you hum during flight simulations and I always leave coms open so I can hear you…”

With Keith raising his chest for Lance’s hand it gave him a moment to slip his other hand underneath him. He pinched his nipple between his thumb and forefinger once before sliding that first hand down the span of his body. Feather light touches over the ridges of his abs, loving the way Keith twitched and rocked harder back into Lance. 

“I love how unbelievably dense you could be sometimes, you’re such a mess you’re perfect—” Lance moved his head so he was right against Keith’s ear for the word “perfect” but lost his nerve when he dropped his face into the back of Keith’s neck, “What am I saying… of course I love you.”

Did Lance have feelings for Allura? Yes. Did he wish she’d reciprocate? Yeah. 

Did Lance feel guilty about indulging himself in a dream with someone who he also had some very strong (possibly stronger) feelings for? No, not at all. 

Because real talk? If Keith had said half of this in real life Lance’s heart would have combusted and he would have kissed the life out of him by now—

Because that was just what Keith did to him sometimes. 

He just… blew his mind with how much he could make Lance feel. 

Christ.

Good lord.

He hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to kiss him yet. 

He reached up with the arm that was beneath Keith, his hand spreading wide over his neck to grab his jaw and tentatively guide him to face him. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Keith’s hips ground back hard as he laughed, “you’re asking that now?”

He was right. 

Besides, kinda stupid to ask permission from a dream right? 

“Stupid stupid me, right?” 

“Stop that.”

“Right let’s get to the smooching.”

“Yeah alright I take it back.”

“If you love me you have to love all of me.”

Lance could practically hear Keith rolling his eyes. 

“Hey it’s my dream—“

And it was absolutely superpowered. Maybe there was something in his drink that had different properties on this planet because when Keith parted his lips and lifted his head they had never looked so inviting in his life. He had to stop himself mid sentence to dive for those lips.

Smashed up his nose a little bit on Keith’s cheek which he was sure he would have felt too if this wasn’t a dream but Lance didn’t care because he was kissing Keith Kogane.

And yes. He’d had plenty of dreams where he’d kissed Keith. Plenty of dreams where they’d made out on the rec room floor or the garrison showers or had sex in reds cockpit. 

But they had never ever felt like this.

His brain practically fizzled out. 

He felt Keith’s tongue against his and then suddenly it was gone.

Felt like he was falling, disoriented. Someone (Keith?) reached out to catch him. Dug little blunt nails into his arm in panic.

“Lance—what—“

The dream shifted. Lance was alone, floating in an empty pool, naked and confused and annoyed.

The water was cold but didn’t make him shiver. 

There was a splash in the distance, and Lance hoped it was Keith but he couldn’t see anything. Time passed and he started to lose sense of where he or the water began. 

He’d have given anything to be back with Keith. 

What a shitty way to end his dream��

When he woke up his throat was dry, like he’d had too much to drink the night before and his head spun a bit. 

He sat up and found he was on the far side of the bed where Keith had gone to sleep. Didn’t even see Keith, so maybe he’d gotten up earlier and Lance had managed to settle into place where his body heat had been. 

Of course that was for mere moments before he glanced to the opposite side of his bed and found… himself?

He also realized very suddenly he was buttnaked with only a silk scarf tied loosely around his hips and his hair was long enough to tickle his shoulders.

He looked down at himself and saw the expanse of absolutely flawless Keith body, down to the little dark hairs just under that useless scarf.

Lance wasn’t sure why he did it, but he reached down to grab himself in his palm (Keith in Keith’s palm??) And was immediately overwhelmed by the sensation of it. He had to bite his lip to keep quiet and fell back on the bed hard as his hand tightened to seek out the feeling. He was partially hard already and from the feeling of it he must have been suffering all night.

But excuse you Lance. This isn’t your body what are you doing? 

Dreaming? Still? Could have sworn he was very much awake now…

He forced himself to stop, noting quietly that he was absolutely not going to forget what it felt like, and looked over at his own body. 

Had to be a dream. 

Had to be.

He shut his eyes, letting his finger tips graze over the inside of Keith’s thighs because dream or no there were so many nice things about that he was gonna keep doing it.

Well until someone shook him awake (again?) 

It was strange seeing an expression that was so clearly Keith, puzzled with furrowed brows and tight lips, on his own face. 

But there it was. 

Staring at him like he was the strangest mystery in the known universe. Which, to be fair, if he was still wearing Keith’s face he kind of was. (And kind of had to be considering he definitely wasn’t the one wearing his own face.) 

Keith (you know, it felt like Keith and acted like Keith, but he really didn’t know if that was Keith) was the first to register the shock of the mornings revelation. Lance actually felt kinda slow and confused. Maybe he’d drank too much— no wait, Keith did. 

Anyway.

So. 

Keith started screaming. And Lance started screaming. 

And maybe that wasn’t a great idea while guests on a diplomatic mission in another world palace with your comrades in arms down the hall while you’re both pretty naked and in bed together. 

But uh. 

Fun morning.

#I hate that I have to do this again #Klance #body swap #sharing a bed #smut #smutty stuff for this blog because it's owed lbr #all I do anymore is whine #and my writing is off #idk #this is one of the older ones so maybe it's not too awful #keith is a mess #Lance has mixed feels #heavy pining #whatever

[laminy]

BTS # 18

A couple people actually asked this one, so! I guess people are interested, thank you! and obviously I’ll just answer it once, but I did get the other one!

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

one of the first scenes that came to my mind was in Chapter 38; right after they celebrate Gwil’s birthday, Ben leaves to go home for the night, and Gwil asks if he can walk him. 

and it’s like, they’re in this very weird space of they both have feelings for each other, they both know they have feelings for each other, but they haven’t really talked about it yet (obviously because they never talked about anything ever lol). and Gwil talks about his family, and asks Ben about his, and it feels like they could be about to slip back into their awkward “both of us have too much angst to function so let’s just shut down” mode, except Gwil brings up Christmas, and then! Ben invites Gwil to spend Christmas with him. which he said so casually, and Gwil accepts so casually, it wasn’t like a big moment of “oh my goddddd we’re going to spend the holidays togetherrrrr” it was just very soft, and sweet, and they were both smiley and happy.

AND THEN. they get to Ben’s flat, and they say goodnight. and how many times have these two said goodnight or goodbye without anything happening before? too many to count. and it could happen again! there’s so much tension really, and Ben’s got his key in the lock and he could just say bye, but then he turns around like, “Gwil? just a question, thanks. when we were in London together, we said goodnight and you waited outside my door, didn’t you?”

and Gwil’s like, oh my goddddd he knew he knew, I wasn’t subtle at all! and he’s just like, “oh yes, I uh, yes I think so, quite.” Like a little blushy, and then Ben teases him a bit! which Ben doesn’t always do with a lot of people, and certainly not with Gwil, so now we see that he’s a bit more comfortable with Gwil, because he’s like, “did you think we were going to have sex?”

and Gwil’s like OH NO UH NO OF COURSE NOT just a kiss, I just wanted a kiss (which he eventually got so good for him go Gwil).

BUT BEN! Ben who has always been shy; for so much of the story he’s only comfortable with Joe, and it took him awhile to warm up even to Rami who’s a sweetheart, and he’s consistently felt like every time he’s reached out to Gwil, he’s been rebuffed. they take two steps forward, a million back. and also up until this point, Ben hasn’t been very forward at all. he was too nervous to ask Gwil to dance. their first kiss, Gwil initiated it. them sleeping together, Gwil initiated it. that Ben, who is probably scared to death and it’s been so long since he’s felt comfortable putting himself out there and he still isn’t, not really; that Ben who is so in his head and quiet and scared and ashamed, he’s the one who comes at Gwil with a:

“Are you going to wait outside my door tonight as well, then?” he asks. “Or should I just kiss you now to save you the trouble?”

BECAUSE BEN WANTS TO KISS HIM. Ben wants to kiss Gwil, and he’s done hiding it, he’s done lying about it, he loves him, and he wants to be kissed by him every day for the rest of his life, and he doesn’t even know yet that that’s going to happen. he could kiss him and Gwil could still turn away and say he’s not ready, or he can’t, or he doesn’t want to, but Ben is just thinking, for right now, in this moment, I am going to say what I want, and it’s going to be great. imagine how much effort that would have taken him! to find that in himself.

and then! Gwil just sort of stands there like, uh...okay? AND BEN KISSES HIM! he doesn’t wait for Gwil to make a move, he makes the move. and this is not just a kiss. Ben doesn’t just give him a light peck and go home. he kisses him and then he kisses him, he grabs onto Gwil’s scarf and pulls him in and holds him close and he doesn’t want to let him go.

BUT IT GETS BETTER! because Ben pulls back, and normally, gosh, this Ben, he’d be like, “oh oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so forward of me, uh that was terrible” and he’d be so regretful and worried and have to go into his apartment and pace around about how much he fucked up, that Ben is gone. at least for right now. this Ben flirts with Gwil, kisses him, and pulls back with a smile and a giggle like, yeah, I just kissed the fucking love of my life and it was amazing. and then he has the audacity to just be like, “okay bye goodnight! happy birthday, fyi, I am the gift! see ya!”

and Gwil’s just left standing there like...holy shit, ha. well, okay! literally speechless but also Ben gave him no time to talk, so then he just leaves.

what I actually find interesting now looking back at it are their reactions. because the next time we see them, Ben, Joe, and Rami are all hanging out together, Gwil’s not there. and Rami knows. and Ben knows Rami knows because Rami’s like, “oh, Gwil and I went to lunch, it was so lovely, do you two want to be alone wink wink” which means that Ben just made a move, a really big move for him, and then did nothing! he kept it all inside, he didn’t even tell Joe. and he would have been so excited and happy and like “I KISSED GWIL!” and then he and Joe went to work together the entire next day and Ben didn’t mention a thing, and Joe didn’t pick up on anything at all because as happy as he is, Ben also wants to keep it to himself. and then when Rami brings it up, Ben’s like “whatever it was just a kiss” BUT IT WASN’T! he was so lying! Ben’s just so used to everything he and Gwil do being this huge group gossip session that he wants to just keep it inside and not say a word (but also, if nothing happens between the two of them, Ben can just pretend he didn’t do anything at all and everything’s fine) while it’s all just bubbling up inside him. maybe because he’s still a bit in shock too, that he even did it! maybe he can’t believe it.

whereas Rami and Gwil go to lunch together and Gwil spills the beans iMMEDIATELY like, deep breath “oKAY!” and Rami just listens like oH MY GOD. like Rami was so in his glory just listening to this story and Gwil was just like “what does it mean, what do you think it means?” and they clearly make this plan where Gwil will show up late because he has to go get flowers and Rami just goes home to Ben and Joe like “oh I had a nice day I know nothing how are you?” and Ben and Joe are like yeah, we’re great, and Rami’s just like, excitedly wiggling wondering how he can bring this up and when Gwil will appear, and Ben’s like, unable to stop thinking about what he’s done and where is Gwil, oh my god he’s run off, and Joe is oblivious to the entire fucking thing.

#this turned into an essay lol #answering asks #author meme