#This is the face he gives you when you walk into the Hall of Grail and he is not finished getting ready | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trancylovecraft · 7 months

Text

(AOEX) YANDERE PLATONIC! ARTHUR A. ANGEL x APPRENTICE! READER: Headcannons

(REQUEST FROM AO3)

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

⦁ Interesting! Arthur is a character from aoex who doesn't get the attention he deserves so I'm happy you requested him!

⦁ Arthur as a yandere is Protective and Delusional in his own right, Especially more so once he's platonic.

⦁ His protective tendencies definetly stem from how he thinks his "parents" died. He wants to protect you from that, Doesn't want to see another person dear to him get killed by a demon.

⦁ His delusion tendencies however stem from the fact he views you as a little angel, In the way those parents would go "Oh such and such could never do any harm, They're a little angel"

⦁ He believes you can do absolutely no wrong in his eyes, You are just the sweetest thing to him. Arthur won't take anyone else's opinion, No one can change his view on you.

⦁ You being his apprentice or student definetly makes it easier to express his delusions and overprotective nature much more easily. After all you're in his care now, You can't do much to argue with what he says.

⦁ I suspect he would probably find you by the exwire school, Probably after the camp incident with Amaimon and Rin's outburst. And just as it does in canon, Arthur had been sent to take care of it of course.

⦁ So as he was holding the rather rabid Rin by the throat and he was insulting Mephisto, You come running out of nowhere and somehow smack him straight in the face.

⦁ Arthur is taken aback, He did not expect it whatsoever. So ignoring Mephisto's cackling you come and start crying out defences for Rin, Saying that he's your friend and isn't dangerous while profusely apologising for hitting him.

⦁ You're quickly dragged away by the surrounding exorcists but that doesn't mean you didn't make an impression on Arthur, No, You made a very vivid impression on him alright.

⦁ Despite the fact that you hit him he couldn't help but notice how apologetic you were and to spite your actions he found it rather admirable yet unguided in your world views.

⦁ But he lets it go for now since the son of Satan requires more priority.

⦁ Skip to like a few months later, This is after the illuminati incident and Arthur is around much more recently.

⦁ So one day he's on his way to Mephisto's office after school hours with important Vatican information. He's just walking the halls and despite being a little annoyed he has to converse with the time clown he keeps a straight face.

⦁ Doesn't mean he isn't distracted though, As soon as he turns a corner you come flying out of nowhere and crash into him. This makes both of you stumble back in surprise as he looks down at you.

⦁ You, Realising who it was that you knocked into start to profusely apologise once more. You say sorry for hitting him a few months ago and for knocking into him now, It's embarrassing to make a fool of yourself in front of the paladin after all.

⦁ Arthur was about to scold you to be more aware of your surroundings before he becomes aware of who you are. He instantly gains an interest in you and forgives you for bumping into him.

⦁ He asks you who you are and you introduce yourselves to one and other. You say you're one of the exwires with the meister of knight and you gush about him being the paladin and whatnot.

⦁ It makes him feel a great amount of pride. He starts to proclaim his own achievements in a not so subtle way and you gush about him more, Making him feel more pride and continuing the cycle.

⦁ Arthur even provides you little tips about your sword work and gives you advice on how to slay demons better. You feel absolutely blessed to be getting this from him, Treating it like the holy grail.

⦁ You tell him you're on your way back to your dorm room but thank him so much for his help and you hope to meet him again one day. You run off back down the hall and he watches you go intently.

⦁ When in his meeting with Mephisto he asks about you. Mephisto only replies with the information you gave him and he asks Arthur if he's particularly interested in you, To which Arthur tells him to mind his own business.

⦁ A few weeks later you're in cram school, Doing a practical lesson. It's only in the middle of your spat with a demon that you see a door open and Arthur come into the room to observe.

⦁ You instantly put on your best show and make sure to put his tips into practice while fighting said demon. Once your done, You climb up and Arthur approaches you, Praising you on your sword work.

⦁ You can't help but feel like this is a godsend as you thank him. Even more so once he brings up the opportunity of becoming his student due to how impressed he is by you and your skill.

⦁ While this is true, It's also not the main reason. Arthur has been keeping up with you since your meeting with him, Getting requested reports from Yukio and using his role as Paladin to learn more about you through more.. Unmoral means.

⦁ You having no idea of this instantly accepts with the enthusiasm of a little kid on their birthday. You think that the gods have blessed you and that your work has finally paid off.

⦁ After you accept his proposal his obsession begins to skyrocket, Especially once you tell him how thankful you are. His protective and delusional tendencies begin to grow at a more rapid pace.

⦁ This starts the domestic stage.

⦁ As his student your on the clock constantly. While Arthur knows your a very capable person he wants to make sure you can defend yourself if anything happens to you while he's away.

⦁ Which is unlikely, Arthur makes sure you're following him around or vice versa at all times. It's apart of his protective tendencies, His nightmares are filled with visions of your torture and death and he wants to make sure they never become a reality.

⦁ Even to Arc knight meetings, Arthur brings you along and he makes sure there's another chair sat beside him at all times. No one can question him on this and the information your hearing, You're an angel in his eyes and wont tell a single soul.

⦁ Arthur always brings you lunches since your always with him and don't have time for anything other than cram school. It's usually something healthy and nutritious, Most of the time cultural dishes from what country he came from with a little desert with it.

⦁ You barely have any time that you don't sleep at your dorm anymore. You either sleep in a sleeping bag or if you're travelling he insists on carrying you while you sleep.

⦁ You keep telling yourself you don't mind however, You're getting invaluable information and shouldn't let sleep get in the way of your education. Though you do admit you are getting a little tired of it.

⦁ When you're out on missions, Arthur doesn't let you fight yourself as he often takes care of the demon before you can saying that you're just not trained enough yet. He doesn't even let you exorcise a hobgoblin or even a coal tar.

⦁ If anyone tries to speak to you, Arthur instantly gets jealous. It doesn't matter whether it's your family or your friends he just doesn't like you talking to anyone else other than him.

⦁ ESPECIALLY if it is a romantic relationship, Arthur will instantly dissuade you from them saying that they don't seem very good for you. They're taking your time away from him and Arthur doesn't like that

⦁ His delusional tendencies kick up again and Arthur instantly deems them a demon instead of a human, Believing this wholeheartedly. He will kill your partner or your friends in family but most generously makes it so they go missing, Only to soothe your emotions.

⦁ At this point you're basically his younger sibling, That's how he see's it as anyways and also where his delusional tendencies kick up again. Often times he refers to you as his younger sibling.

⦁ Lewin often makes fun of this. Arthur, While he knows Lewin doesn't have any bad intention instantly gets defensive of you and his relationship, Telling Lewin to leave you alone.

⦁ You're happy you're close to your master and such but it is getting really taxing on both your health and your studies. So one day you go up to him and say that you need to focus more on your education and cannot go on any further missions.

⦁ Arthur is stunned and instantly argues back, Thinking that someone has manipulated you into taking time off. You say no and tell him that he's just a bit too overbearing.

⦁ Arthur says that he knows what's best for you since he's your older brother, You are fucking confused to high hell and tell him he's just your mentor and teacher. Arthur however, Being the delusional twink that he is, Doesn't accept this in the slightest.

⦁ You can tell once he jabs a finger into the side of your neck, Hitting a pressure point and instantly knocking you unconscious. Arthur picks you up and carries you away, Making sure that no one sees the deed happen.

⦁ You wake up in penthouse apartment that he's bought just for this occasion. So much so that the place is decked out in warding and natural top of the line security to make sure you don't get out.

⦁ While you are an angel in his eyes, He believes that it's best to keep you indoors for now due to your fragile mental state and whatever demonic spell your mind is under.

⦁ You now have his last name, Making your blood relation "official"

⦁ Delulu

⦁ The Uzai's won't be getting involved, They still need Arthur and won't be losing him over a simple exwire. Mephisto won't either, This is fucking hilarious and he will be watching with a grin.

⦁ Your family or friends? Maybe Rin and co with the power of friendship but your family will be smited.

⦁ Good luck with him. Man's cray cray.

64 notes · View notes

lustfulchaldea · 7 months

Note

So how did Baobhan finally get Percival to, as the youths say, 'take her to Poundtown'?

Did she finally craft an innuendo that reached his brain or did she just stand in his room wearing nothing but her heels and a sign that says 'Fold me in half and fuck me like a life depends on it. Because it does.'

The thing Sith has learned about men is that they're never ones to take what's offered, unless it's when you're not being genuine. She's offered so many of them the same thing she's offering Percival, just with a 'your head goes in my collection after' bit implied, and all of them ate it up like candy.

However, when she's throwing herself at Percival in a way that she'd usually find incredibly humiliating, practically begging him to dick her down like she's some common whore, no strings or conditions attached, he doesn't take the bait even a little! It's an embarrassing blow to her pride as a woman, sure, but it's mostly her pride as a seductress in particular that's taken a hit.

Though, given who Percival is, perhaps she should've expected the resistance.

Holy Knight of the Dove, Knight of the Round Table, and just generally nice and upstanding guy...Usually, not the person she'd even go for to begin with, especially now. She's no stranger to fucking whoever she wants, but something about Percival makes her chase him. What is it?

Is it the fact that she's straight, and the other two men in Chaldea are that shrimp of a doctor and Mandricardo, while Percival is...well, a giga-ripped hunk? No, that's not it. Sith knows she's pickier than that, and she knows his face vaguely from Fae Britain anyhow, which would usually drive her lust for someone into the negatives.

She's very unsure about it, but she decides to brush off that feeling. She wants the dick, he can give her the dick, and she needs a better plan. Then, she realizes.

If showing these off isn't enough...maybe he needs more...stimulus. They're contained a bit, after all, and even as skimpy as she's made it for the purpose of seducing him, it's not all the way. Maybe...maybe there's no more time for the game. The hunt. Maybe it's time for a direct approach.

If she does this, she runs the risk of ruining her entire reputation as a seductress, to the point that it may never recover. She runs the risk of embarrassing herself because of a human, all because of this burning heat inside her is unquenchable and unreachable by any means that aren't a Grail Knight's massive dick screwing her brains out until she's comatose.

Normally, if something had this much of a risk of embarrassment, she'd either just flat-out not do it or ask her mother. Asking her mother about sexual advice, and sexual advice that was relevant to a Knight of the Round Table at that, was probably not very smart, though. At worst, it could end up starting the feud back up again.

But.

She wants this. She needs this. So all bets are off. Her flame can't be quenched without this dicking she so thoroughly deserves, and she refuses to let something like pride get in the way of this.

It's go time.

"I'll need to find a good board...~"

The curvaceous fae goes off to hunt for wood (of the actual kind for once), humming an evil little ditty to herself as she does.

'If this doesn't work? Nothing will.'

---

That evening...

"Guh."

He's rather tired tonight, if he can be honest. Spending all day fighting can be invigorating, especially with his king there to help, but when you also have to spend a large deal of your free time cooking...it can really wear on you after a while.

"Perhaps it's time for bed..."

As he slowly walks down the hall to his room, stretching his arms, he considers what he'll do tomorrow. It is a weekend, after all, which means that he can probably spend some time with his king, or getting to know Boudica more so that he can be more of a help in the kitchen.

That sounds nice.

He reaches his door, typing in his passcode confidently. It's an easy thing to do once you've been at Chaldea this long; They're only 5 numbers long, after all. But each one is unique.

CHIK. Sliiiide.

He steps inside, flicking on the lights...

"Wh-"

"Haah...hnnnahhh...PERCY....~ You're back...~"

Baobhan Sith is in the middle of the room, staring up at him with eyes so full of love and lust that they ought to belong to a woman who's been starving. A maiden who's been without her beloved for months, if not years, and is only now getting the chance to properly inform him of how true her love for him is.

"I've...been waiting for you...Percy...This fairy whore's been waiting so long for you to make her happy..."

She's naked, massive bust squashed between her arms as she palms the floor, leaning towards the door with a delirious smile on her face. Her mouth hangs open, exposing the slutty cavern that lies beyond her plump lips with every breath. Her massive tits, testaments to sin, are entirely exposed for him to see, plump pink nipples topping the doughy mounds of breast fat. They ooze over her arms as she starts panting, framing the board she's got hanging from her neck.

It's all yours~ All of me~ It's yours, so make me stupid for you~

The message is clear, and combined with her face and the fact that she's literally begging on hands and knees, it's no gag. Baobhan Sith, with one cheek bouncing off the other every time she shifts her hips, wants Percival the White to destroy her dignity, intelligence, and independence on his cock.

"I-...ah...hwh...You...truly?"

Percival's words almost cut Baobhan deep, but she knows they're genuine. He truly worries that she's been coerced into this slutty, baseborn display that could only be done by a brainless slamslut. It's so heartwarming that she almost wants to reclaim her resolve for just a moment, if only to assure him that this is what Baobhan Sith, the woman, wants more than anything. She can't even explain why, but that is the honest truth.

But she can't. She sees something bulge in his pants, despite his concern, and she knows that he wants her too.

That all this was the right call. That this is how she gets what she wants.

That means she has to be honest in the only way she can.

"Aww...it must be so hard...Your fat fucking cock, so pent up from never getting to let loose...You'd never think about harassing any of these women and using their porn-suited bodies for your pleasure, would you...? No, you wouldn't...~ You're a proud knight, after all."

She coos as she takes a step towards him, on hands and knees as her lips purse.

"It's okay, though, Sir Percival. The stress can go away...You don't have to bury these lustful feelings under all that chivalry anymore. You have a bitch to empty them into. It's not sin...It's not bad...it's just your right as the person I belong to."

Her lips spread, and the smashing of her fat flanks against each other only intensifies. She's drooling now, hearts forming in her slutty gaze as she reopens her maw.

"So use me, Sir Percival. Use this fae skank, and make me fall for you."

"..."

No words are spoken. He's stock still, door finally closing behind him as he gapes at her. But in his eyes, she sees understanding. Recognition. Acceptance. In her brain, so dulled by her own lust and centuries of agony and disdain, she dimly recalls that, when someone looks at her like that, she feels joy.

This really was perfect.

---

WHAM, WHAM, CLAP. WHAM, WHAM, CLAP. WHAM, WHAM, CLAP.

PLAP. PLAP. PLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAP-

"Nhhhhaaahhh....OOOHHHHGHHHH...!~"

Baobhan's Sith's face can only be described as stupid right now. Utterly braindead, as the fattest cock she's ever seen pummels her womb. To say that Percival is crushing her cunt is an understatement, because after 8 orgasms on her body, he's finally absolutely obliterating it.

Lain on her back, eyes crossed as she drools up at the ceiling lights, Baobhan Sith is covered in cum. Her face is only bare of it because she greedily lapped it all off. Her breasts are coated in thick white batter. Her stomach, lightly bloated from all the seed she's chugged down, is also painted that same shade of white. Even her hair, currently fanning out against the bed she's being railed upon, is coated in Percival's nut. She'll be brushing it out for weeks...

Percival is a virgin, that much is clear. Baobhan Sith knew that...but she also knew what being pent up like he was does to a man. And how, in a state so built-up and needy, they'll do whatever gets them off most. Virginity status matters little then.

"OooGHAAAAA!~ MHORREE- AHIIIII!~"

Her back arches as he impacts into her hole at another, entirely new angle. Her legs are practically useless, crashing against the side of the bed as his heavy hips brutalize her own.

She can feel the fire inside, flaring and broiling, start to fade with every impact into her deepest core.

"Gnnhhh...GHHH....Haaa!"

Percival, for his part, is only baring clinging onto reason himself. He's literally never experienced this before, and is only doing as well as he is because he's not the one being dominated. He sets the pace (even if he's discarded it a while ago out of pure fervor), and he takes control.

Currently, he's pistoning in and out of Baobhan Sith's sopping cunt, face entirely red as his balls clap against her rear. It's been an hour, maybe two or three (he can't tell), and he's unsure if he's about to run on empty. Or if he's gotten close to empty at all.

But what he does know is that he's about to blow for the ninth time that week, right in the most greedy cunt to ever exist. Some part of him knows that he shouldn't do that. Even if Servants cannot get pregnant, even if there's no risk or downside to letting his cock burst inside this undulating, gushing fuckhole as he crashes into her cervix, part of him still wants to pull out.

"Baobhan...! Ghhh! Going to...!"

"Huuuogggh...?! Nnnnhhhoooo!!!!"

Faintly, her mind remembers that it can do more than just produce bitch-tier moans while she gets the brattiness slambred out of her. Faintly, it processes his words. Faintly, it panics.

Quickly, before Percival can draw his hips back, the Archer wraps her thick thighs around his back, ankles clacking together as her plump legs squeeze around his waist.

"Inside! Pleaaaaaseeee!~"

She doesn't even let him respond before her back arches again, and she pleads into his ear with the sweetest voice she can manage.

"Don't...you want to leave your mark on me? For all to see...? Your child...?~"

Everything goes still. Percival stops thrusting, and Baobhan stops crooning and groaning. The only sounds are the sticky schlaps of Baobhan's hair pasting itself to the bedsheets.

For a moment, she considers asking the man that just turned her into a 0-iq dickholster if he's okay. Contemplation must be hard for someone like this...but the moment she opens her mouth-

"NGHGGHHHHHH....!"

Ah. She understands now. There was no contemplation at all. Just the ecstasy that comes with losing oneself to pleasure.

She throws her head back as she feels herself flooded with thick batter, tongue lolling out once more as that feeling of utter stupidity enters her brain yet again. This is right.

"GHHHHOOOOOHHH!~"

She desperately bucks her hips into his, craving more of that hot jizz in her deepest chambers. She passionately squeals and moans with every rope spurted, and her eyes cross as she reminds herself.

Daddy...Daddy. Daddy.~

So, all in all...

It went rather well.~

#kiara #percival #baobhan sith #readyplayerziggy #depraved purity: ii #filthy fucking p//orn #you were warned #my crackship will live on #part III will be the aftermath #so have fun with this~

11 notes · View notes

cyarskj1899 · 1 year

Text

The Lionel Richie-Dave Grohl Lovefest Continues at Rock Hall of Fame Performance

"Rock and roll is not a color," Richie said. "It is a feeling. It's a vibe. And if we let that vibe come through, this room will grow and grow and grow"

Larisha PaulNovember 6, 2022

"Rock and roll is not a color," Richie said. "It is a feeling. It's a vibe. And if we let that vibe come through, this room will grow and grow and grow"

Lionel Richie performed his greatest hits — with Dave Grohl on guitar — before accepting his induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Saturday night.

After being introduced by Lenny Kravitz, the Commodores musician and American Idol judge opened the medley with “Hello” on piano, immediately taking control of the crowd as they sang the ubiquitous chorus.

He quickly switched into the Commodores’ “Easy,” which brought much of the crowd to its feet clapping to the rhythm, swaying and singing the backing vocals. Grohl joined onstage as a surprise guest to perform “Easy,” one of the night’s musical highlights. (Grohl has been a longtime fan of Richie’s, hosting a town hall with the singer, appearing at Richie’s MusiCares award, and recruiting him for Foo Fighters’ comedy-horror film Studio 666 to chastise Grohl for stealing “Hello.”)

Richie finished with a groovy, bongo-tinged “All Night Long,” pacing the stage and pointing at the crowd to join in.

“If Mozart were Black, would he be Mozart? No, because he wasn’t funky enough,” Richie said during his speech about making music and the criticism he faced when his music wasn’t “Black enough.”

Speaking to Rolling Stone earlier this year, Richie compared being inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to reaching heaven, saying: “This is the holy grail of what we do in the business.”

“I was the kid that was a fan to practically everyone in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame,” he said. “To go from fan to in it … they let the fan in the club. Can you imagine?”

His excitement rested not in the praise of the accolade itself, necessarily, but in the company that it surrounded him with – to take the stage Saturday night and be listed alongside the world-changing artists who he had idolized and loved his whole life at the wishes of his peers.

And as his discography shows, he has more than earned his spot with career-defining hits such “Hello,” “All Night Long,” Say You, Say Me,” “My Destiny,” “Lady” with Kenny Rogers, “Endless Love” with Diana Ross, and a crucial co-writing credit alongside Michael Jackson on “We Are the World.”

Richie’s Rock Hall induction comes several months after the Black Music & Entertainment Walk of Fame inducted him as a legacy artist. Around the same time, the Library of Congress awarded the musician with the Gershwin Prize for Popular Song.

Read Lion Richie’s full acceptance speach below:

Let me just take a real moment to take this in for a moment. it has been a very interesting road from Tuskegee, Alabama to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Before I start talking about me, let me talk about Alan Grubman for a moment. If you know Alan, to make Alan cry, I don’t even know how that happened. I was shocked and he didn’t say “fuck” more than twice! That’s insanity.

Anyway, let’s go back to what I was going to say. We are celebrating tonight probably one of the funniest things, funniest jokes in my life because all the songs that I wrote and recorded were told to me by so many people, “These are the songs that will destroy your career. What in the hell are you thinking about?”

For example, I had a group of people come to me and say, “Lionel, this is funk. What are you doing with ‘Three Times a Lady?'” … It went on and then they said, “Can you give us another one of those, ‘Three Times a Lady?'” And I gave them “Sail On.” Then they said, “Can you give us another one of those ‘Sail Ons.'” That’s when I realized that the true business was in the copy: not being original. So that’s when I realized that there’s two types of arts: creative arts and created arts.

From that point, I decided I would be the creative arts. What comes with that category is ridicule. Lots and lots of ridicule, but I I use it as my perfect example of “If I’m going in the right direction.” So when someone said to me, “Oh, my God, I wouldn’t do that song if I were you!” That’s the exact song you put out. If it made you nervous.

Then someone came to me and said the most unusual phrase. I was doing an interview one day and he said, “How does it feel now that you’ve left your roots?” I said, “What does that mean?” Because at the time I signed to Motown I didn’t know anything about the record business. I didn’t know there was an R&B department and pop department, jazz. I thought I was competing with all the music.

And so when I went and said, “What do you want me to do?” And he said, “Well, Lionel, you’re not Black enough.” And I said, “Let me ask you a question: If Mozart were black, would he be Mozart?” And the answer is no. Because he wasn’t funky enough. At that point, I realized I’m going in the opposite direction. Because at this time, I needed to understand there are some people who specialize in their job. And then there’s some people who don’t know any better than God’s gift was, “What do you want to write, we can write.”

So tonight, I’m standing on the stage because I want you to understand how important it is to let the artist go. Let the creativeness flow. If you get an idea, the last thing you want to do is open your mouth and say something stupid, like “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Especially if you’re talking to a creative artist.

Tonight I want to say one other thing because it’s very important looking in this class tonight that I’m in: Judas Priest. Brought on by Lenny Kravitz…. You see what happens here is that this is a complete thought of what I was thinking when I first got into business. Rock and Roll is not a color. It is a feeling. It’s a vibe. And if we let that vibe come through, this room will grow and grow and grow.

I cannot and will not walk off this stage without acknowledging my dear dear dear friends the Commodores. Thank God for the Commodores because there would be no Lionel Richie… I must say also that there are people that have actually had to tolerate quite a bit. Sometimes when you fall in love with the music business, you tend to fall out of love and people don’t understand what the hell you doing over… I missed 25 years of pep rallies, bonfires, family reunions.

I’m on the stage tonight. But the most important thing is I want to thank all of my friends, my family, Miles, Sofie, Nicole. The grandkids. Lisa, my heart. I want to thank them for actually sitting through my magical mystery tour. And I want to let everyone know that I am probably not coming home for quite a while. I’m in love with this business. I love what I do. Thank you so much for this amazing moment.

Popular on Rolling Stone

Maxo Kream Talks Choking at His First Show, Getting Slapped, and DJ Screw | The First Time

James Anthony Carmichael, my co-producer, on every album, every song. You listen to every complete, crazy lyric I ever wrote. And said ‘I know that’s not the right word. Find the word.’ I want to thank James for being right there with me every night, 25 hours a day, discovering my voice .Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, thank you very much.

0 notes

the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Round 1: Fruit Snacks

Bucky x reader

Summary: Steve, Sam, and Bucky try to prank you. Emphasis on try.

Warnings: none, well I guess manipulative crying? but in a funny way...

Word Count: 1384

a/n: my inspiration for this? A box of fruit snacks. What am I doing with my life?

Masterlist

You love fruit snacks. You've even made a definitive ranking of the best brands. Scooby snacks were the clear winner, but hard to find at the grocery store sometimes.

When Scooby Snacks were unavailable, you went for Welch's. Mostly because they came in a 96 pack and three out of five flavors were pretty good.

Whenever you're feeling sad or upset in any way, your go to is a bag of fruit snacks.

There was one especially tough day when you opened the bag only for it to be full of only orange and grape.

You burst into tears in the kitchen.

All this to say, it's become very clear to everyone in the house that you always have fruit snacks hidden somewhere in the kitchen.

You used to keep them in your room, but then you started eating way too many, so you moved them to the kitchen.

You hid them because, although you were willing to share, nobody would ever tell you when they were taking the last bag.

There's nothing quite like the minor inconvenience of reaching into the box for a bag of fruit snacks, and then having it be empty. It really ruins a day.

So, when you went into the kitchen for a bag of fruit snacks, and all of your hiding places were empty, you were perturbed to say the least.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve were sitting around the island, watching as you looked in seemingly random cabinets and containers.

You huffed angrily, moving to check the one of the last spots they could be. It was you're holy grail of hiding places.

You opened the freezer drawer, pulling out a box of plant based burgers. Under that box was a another box, this time of sugar-free, dairy-free, fat-free ice cream bars.

You opened the ice cream bar box, tipping it over to empty the contents onto the counter.

The ice cream slid across the island, but no fruit snacks came out of the box.

You took a deep breath, trying not to scream. You really just needed fruit snacks right now, and there appeared to be none anywhere.

You refused to make eye contact with any of the guys, knowing it would set you off. Instead, you collected the nasty ice cream bars, dumping them into the trash.

ou really wished they tasted good, but apparently they aren't even useful for hiding your good snacks.

The three men all had their eyes on you, waiting for a reaction. You didn't know which one of them found all your fruit snacks, but you weren't going to give them the satisfaction.

If they wanted a prank war, so be it.

With tears in your eyes, you recycled the cardboard box. Then you finally turned to look at them, watching as their expressions quickly shifted into that of concern.

"I'm going to the store, do you need anything?" You stuttered through the question, trying to play up how upset you were. You waited a minute for one or more of them to answer, when nothing came you turned back toward the door.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Bucky called as you reached the door.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"It's just been a tough day. I- It's stupid. I'll see you guys later." You turned around again, walking slightly slower than normal.

Bucky jumped off his chair, running to stop you before you left the kitchen. It must have been his idea to eat all of your fruit snacks. He grabbed your should, spinning you around.

"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset. Talk to me, please?"

You waited a beat before pulling him into a long hug. You pretended to cry more, waiting for him to ask what was wrong again.

"Doll, what's got you so upset?" He rubbed your back, unaware of the devious smirk on your face.

You spoke into his chest, leaving your head buried there. "I just, everything is going wrong today. I woke up late, so Tony was annoyed with me. I spent 3 hours trying to fix this piece of tech, only to realize it wasn't working because it wasn't freaking plugged in. I had to rewrite my code for Redwing's updates four times because it kept getting deleted."

You whined as you listed the events of your day. It really was a shitty day, hence the need for fruit snacks.

"Then I dropped my lunch on the floor, so I just ate an apple. I stubbed my toe on the way to training, so it hurt the whole time. I spent ten minutes looking for my phone while I was using it to call someone. I stepped in a puddle, so now my socks are wet."

You took a deep breathe, really laying on the guilt for the last part.

"And when I went to get fruit snacks to cheer myself up, they were all gone."

You hugged him tighter before pulling away, wiping the fake tears from your face.

"So now I'm going to the store. Hopefully nothing else goes wrong because I don't know if I can take it." You leaned your head back, dramatically trying to get the tears to subside.

"Hey, it's okay." Bucky continued to rub your arms, trying to soothe you. "Why don't you go make some tea or something, and I'll go to the store for you?"

You gave him a small, watery smile. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course, Doll. Steve and Sam will come too." He glared at them over your head.

"You guys are the best." You gave them all a hug as they left the kitchen, smirking to yourself once they were gone.

"Y/N, we're back!" Sam called from the elevator, expecting you to still be in the kitchen.

The three men walked down the hall, stopping in their tracks when they saw you.

You were sitting on the couch, fruit snacks in hand, watching a movie with Nat and Wanda.

"What the hell?" Bucky looked between you and the fruit snacks in your hand.

"Where did you even get those?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Well, when the frozen fruit snacks are missing, I know I'm being punked." You smirked at them, laughing with Nat and Wanda.

"So- you..." Bucky trailed off, disbelief clouding his thought process.

"A few waterworks and you three were putty in my hands." You walked toward them, taking the grocery bag with the fruit snacks. "Thanks for the refill." You winked, walking past them into the kitchen.

They stood frozen in shock for a minute, before following you down the hall.

"But how did you know it was us?" Sam asked.

"Why else would the three of you be sitting on the bar stools at the island? You were 100% waiting for a meltdown that I never gave you." You smirked as you hid the bags in different cabinets.

"You never answered my question." Steve stated, still curious about your secret hiding place. "We looked everywhere for hidden fruit snacks."

You placed an arm on Bucky's shoulder as you jumped onto the island counter, unscrewing the top of the chandelier.

"Everywhere?" You questioned as you added a few bags to the compartment before screwing the lid back on. "I've got secret compartments all over the kitchen."

"Then why not just take one of those? Why send us to the store?" Sam asked, still incredulous that you got the three of them this badly.

"Well, I'm assuming you ate all the bags you did find?" You reached out, waiting for Bucky to help you down. He grabbed your waist, slowly lifting you setting you on the floor.

The three of them nodded.

"So I needed more." You shrugged, tossing the now empty box in the recycling as well.

"Was your day really that awful?" Bucky asked in a soft voice, feeling slightly used.

"It was." You smiled at him, moving to hug him again. "Thank you for caring. Honestly, it's really sweet." You kissed him on the cheek before turning to go back to your movie.

You couldn't stop yourself from calling one more thing over your shoulder as you left.

"This was round one boys, and I was only on the defensive. I'd say be prepared, but you'll never see me coming." You winked.

Part 2

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #tony stark #wanda maximoff #marvel #marvel fic #mcu #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n

442 notes · View notes

kythed · 3 years

Text

what love tastes like

terushima yuuji x reader

synopsis: in which you learn that falling in love tastes like monster

“Taste,” he says. He holds the cold rim of a freshly opened can to your lips, and first it’s metallic, salty, but then it’s sweet.

You take a sip.

“So you’re telling me you’ve never tried Monster before?” he asks, taking a drink himself. The two of you are sitting on a park bench across the street from a gas station. He licks his lips-- the silver ball embedded in his tongue winks at you, a shallow token of youthful rebellion that somehow seems more significant on him.

“Never. I’m more of a Dr. Pepper girl.” You reach for the can again, letting the saccharine liquid sloshing inside coat your tongue. It’s really too much for me, you think. But of course, you won’t tell him that.

“Not anymore,” he says, and he slips a firm hand around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and daring you to look away with a wicked grin-- it’s attractive, to say the least. “Now you’re my girl.”

You’ve barely parted your lips to respond before his mouth is on yours, tongue halfway down your throat, and you’re whimpering into the kiss as he snakes a hand down your back and presses your body to his. The whole ordeal tastes like Monster and feels far more energizing than the packaging promises.

Within your first day of meeting him, Terushima Yuuji has already claimed you as his own.

And you’re okay with it.

He’s about as healthy for you as the Monster is-- which is to say, not at all.

In your next couple months of dating him, this becomes apparent. He takes you to the edge of the woods at twilight and lights your first cigarette, laughing as you take a draw and end up coughing. Plucking it from your fingers, he holds the cig high as smoke curls into the hazy sky and eventually melds with the faintly orange cumuli. “Guess it’ll take a little practice before you can smoke with the big dogs, huh?”

You flush and snatch it back, determined to prove your aptitude for defiance. By the end of the night, you can blow smoke rings-- he applauds, and for some odd reason your heart swells at his lazy grin.

(The next kiss tastes like tobacco and novelty.)

He shows you each of his tattoos, some of which peek out from underneath his clothes, some of which aren’t exactly visible to the onlooker’s eye. There’s a tendril of ivy climbing down his forearm, a flock of wild cranes taking flight from his left shoulder. A dark silhouette is on his chest, kneeling low to who knows what. You trace the image of an unlit candle on the back of his neck, asking what it means-- for a millisecond, his mouth tightens into an expressionless line, but then he laughs. “Why, you want one too? Let’s go to the parlor then.”

When you decline, he takes a permanent marker from his bedside table and prints a small label on your inner wrist. ‘Mine’ it says, accompanied by an oddly appropriate smiley face. “Then this will have to do.”

(This kiss tastes like ink and enigma.)

He brings you to a decrepit manor on the outskirts of town-- legend has it a young, newly wealthy couple purchased it twenty years ago, unaware its foundations rested on a centuries old cemetery. The spiteful spirits drove them to the brink of madness. The sort of madness that could only be alleviated by the resounding finality of death.

“They were found hanging from their bedsheets in the west wing,” Yuuji whispers to you, his breath tickling your ear. An unwanted tremor runs from your head to your high-tops. You don’t believe in ghosts, so it must be because you’re cold. (At least, that’s what you tell yourself.) “I want that kind of love.”

You turn, surprised to see his expression remains entirely serious. “The kind where you die for one another?”

“The kind where you die with one another,” he corrects, wistfully gazing into the dingy bay windows protruding from the manor’s anterior.

You remain silent.

“Life is just an accumulation of bad decisions, and love is just an accumulation of bad decisions you make with another person,” he muses, still peering at the grandeur of the lonely estate. He turns to you, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Wanna make a bad decision with me?”

The next hour is spent in the modest company of Yuuji, a couple of baseball bats, and the empty halls of a long dead house. There’s no one to witness the two of you shattering each dusty antique vase save for the portraits on the wall. Soon, their frames, too, receive a violent visit from a vindictive bat, usually accompanied by Yuuji’s unadulterated glee and a resounding whoop.

You’re not a fan of destruction. Especially not the destruction of rare, precious items reminiscent of a life bygone. Yet, it’s exhilarating to indulge in it, to swing your bat with a meaningless vengeance and watch as whatever priceless heirloom that evoked your baseless wrath fractures into pieces. You demolish a set of fine china found in the dining room cabinet and Yuuji gathers you into his arms, kissing you fiercely (it tastes like some sort of perverse, seductive joy, rosewater mixed with ashes). He chuckles into your mouth when you push your tongue into his, retribution for your first kiss many weeks ago. It’s deliciously gratifying.

If Yuuji is right, and love is just a mosaic of bad decisions and desire-- maybe you’re okay with that. Maybe this is all I really need, you think, watching Yuuji from the corner of your eye on the drive home. Yellow street lights cast irregular shadows on his angular features, lending him an otherworldly sort of beauty.

“What is it?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the road. One of his hands inches up your inner thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before retreating to the responsibility of the steering wheel.

You hesitate, just for a second. An unseen force constricts around your throat; you banish it with a hard swallow. “I love you.”

One second passes. Then two.

He says nothing the rest of the ride home, and you sit in mortified silence, watching traffic blur by with glassy eyes. You must’ve misread this whole thing. You’re just a fling Yuuji plans on discarding whenever he grows tired… your mouth goes dry with regret.

When you pull up in front of your house, he walks you to your front door. You can hardly stand to look him in the eye.

“Well, thanks for today,” you say, examining your shoelaces with false interest. “I had a lot of--”

“I love you, too.”

Startled, you look up. “I- what?”

“I said,” he says, stepping close, putting a hand beneath your chin to tilt it upwards. Your body is eclipsed by his larger one, and you’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hide from his penetrating gaze. “I love you, too.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh,” you breathe, and, suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you fervently— but this time, it’s chaste, it’s… loving (and it tastes like honeyed laughter). Only for a second though.

Then his hands are on your waist, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises; he’s aflame with a hotblooded passion-- your body is his Holy Grail and your mouth is its rim. He leads you into the hallway, fumbling to close the door behind him. You gasp when he pushes you up against the wall and harshly sucks at the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, your nails digging into his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles, painting your neck with a line of ardent kisses, trailing from right below your ear to right above your collarbone. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

There’s something a little too tender in the way he caresses your face the next morning to wake you after he’s slipped his clothes back on, in the way he smiles softly at your bleary eyed confusion, in the way he holds you in his embrace a fraction of a second longer than you hold him in yours before saying goodbye.

Terushima Yuuji may play the part of a reckless delinquent, but he’s not your average troublemaker. There’s something inscrutable behind his gaze, even as he sprays obscene graffiti on stop signs and shoplifts alcohol from the neighborhood drugstore, a walking cliche of hoodlum culture.

There’s something a little too careful about the boy who claims to be careless.

Yuuji is still fun, of course. He takes immense pride in being fun. He invites you to one of his friends’ gigs, some sort of grunge-esque affair with a heavily pulsating bass line and a preponderance of cheap liquor in red plastic cups. The drummer winks at you during one of the songs-- later Yuuji slugs him in the jaw, taking a few hits in the process, and makes a show of kissing you sloppily while the poor drummer nurses his rapidly forming bruise with a pack of frozen peas. (The kiss, of course, tastes like blood and pride.)

He teaches you how to use a switchblade-- “Just in case,” he says, wrapping his hand around yours in an effort to show you the proper grip. In exactly what situation you’d be forced to use a switchblade remains unclear, but when you ask he just laughs and shrugs, spinning the knife in between his slender fingers. “You never know.”

(He tells you a story of a fist fight years ago and lifts his shirt to point out a pale, faded scar-- the other guy brought a knife concealed in his sleeve. You then agree it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.)

The two of you trespass on the regular, scaling fences and picking locks to dip your feet in private pools, to run barefoot on the soft grass of a golf course late at night, to explore taped off tunnels and underpasses.

All of it is fun, all of it depicts your relationship as something accidental, something reckless, the convergence of two beings as coincidental as the convergence of the two cells that provoked the Big Bang.

But your intimate moments, the faintest imprints in between the lines, tell a different story. One onlookers don’t see.

They don’t see how Yuuji places a hand on the small of your back to guide you over a crosswalk, or how he pours a coffee and carefully blows on it before bringing it to you. They don’t see how he laughs when you laugh and smiles when you smile.

They don’t hear what he whispers to you under the sheets-- sweet nothings that would make Cupid himself blush-- as he touches you slowly, purposefully, following your curves deliberately as a sculptor molding clay.

They don’t feel his kisses, delicately placed on your lips, your neck, your stomach and thighs. They don’t feel his eyelashes fluttering on your cheek as he allows himself to rest with you in his most vulnerable state.

It’s during these moments that deep secrets are so shyly exchanged in the sleepy haze of late nights and early mornings. He bares his soul to you in all its imperfection (you suspect you are the only one to have ever seen it in this state). He shatters himself bit by bit like the vases you splintered so long ago, offering you the fragments so you can gradually piece together the entire portrait.

“You know how I told you my dad taught me how to fight?” he asks one of these times. Your head is in his lap as he strokes your hair ever-so-lightly. You nod, looking up into those sweet brown eyes-- they look sad today. “That’s only half true. He didn’t teach me, but I had to learn because of him.”

You take his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, humming softly, and he takes this small act of comfort and stores it away like he always does.

I’m sorry.

“I’m scared of trying to be someone different than I am now, but I want to be. I wish I could be.”

You can.

“I’m sorry for getting you into so much trouble these days.”

Don’t be.

“I think we should run away, just you and me. We could make it, you know.”

I know.

Of course, all good things come to an end. You know that.

You just aren’t anticipating something so good to end so soon-- as suddenly as Terushima Yuuji becomes yours, he disappears.

One morning, he’s sleeping in the bed next to you, and the next he’s gone without a trace. Literally. He leaves behind no extra t-shirts, no stray sock or phone charger, no note. You pad down the hall, ducking your head into each room.

“Yuuji?” you call. “Is this some sort of joke?”

It’s not.

You call his phone and reach his voicemail. Hey, this is Terushima. Not available right now, probably busy doing somethin’ stupid or taking a piss. Leave a message if you want.

The sound of his voice grows more and more painful to hear over the next six months. At first, you call every day, then every week, then every month. At month six, you’ve stopped calling at all. If he wanted to answer, he would. You don’t even know why you’ve kept it up so long when he obviously left for a reason.

So, you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and cobble them together again. It’s not a graceful recovery, but it’s a recovery, and that’s what matters. The gaping hole he left is gradually filled by your family, your friends-- you don’t go on a single date, but that’s okay. (You’re just not ready. You tell yourself that you will be, someday.)

Soon, you’re whole again. As you discover, there are ways to find yourself other than falling dangerously in love with a dangerous boy.

You run into him one day, eight or so months after his disappearance. You’re filling your car at a gas station, and at the park across the street, he’s sitting next to a girl you don’t recognize. She laughs at all his jokes and sips a can of Monster he offers her. As if he can feel your stare, Yuuji glances over and catches your eye. He jogs across the street, dodging traffic, and you two exchange tentative pleasantries before the conversation comes to an uneasy rest on the taboo-- why he left.

It wasn’t because of you, it turns out. At least, not really. You were just the catalyst.

“I was the problem,” Yuuji says, laughing, though the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You remember how I once told you I thought love was making your bad decisions with someone by your side?”

You nod, and the wound has scabbed over enough for you to remember it lightly, with a slight curve of the lips.

“You showed me that wasn’t true.” He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly, not quite meeting your gaze. “I started wanting to make good decisions instead. And that just wasn’t me. Love isn’t for me.”

“It could’ve been,” you say simply. He stares at you, momentarily unable to form a response. Then he laughs it off, a sound you used to adore that now sounds harsh and grating.

“Maybe someday,” he says, but his expression tells you otherwise. It tells you how scared he is of ever being that person.

The thing about love is that it gives you something to lose. It gives you a reason to make good decisions. It gives you something to fear for.

As he turns to leave, Yuuji freezes in his tracks. He throws a look over his shoulder. “Just for the record-- it hurt. Leaving. I did love you.”

You smile. It’s a genuine smile, but it’s sad, too. “I know.”

And the thing about fear is that some people can’t bear it well enough to let themselves love someone.

You watch his retreating back for a brief moment before climbing into your car. It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize you’re crying. Tears roll down your cheeks into your lap, staining your jeans.

You hope he comes to love that new girl, the one he’s sharing a Monster with. You hope she loves him back with all her heart. You hope she spends hours and hours picking through his pieces and reassembling him from the bottom up. You hope she comes to find that his kisses taste like tobacco and novelty, like ink and enigma, like rosewater and ashes and joy. You hope that, to her, those kisses never taste like regret.

You hope that this time, he’s scared. But not so scared he can’t let himself stay.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq terushima #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader

1K notes · View notes

spicyfloaty · 3 years

Text

Give & Take | Chapter 9

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 4.5k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Mornings with Bakugo

Ochako was a morning person, the kind who purposefully wakes up before the sun does just so they could witness the day start. She had always loved early mornings back at home since it gave her the chance to cook her parents breakfast and see them off to work soon after. Getting a head start to a new day was a principle and routine she had stood by before her father got hurt on the job.

Ever since her father’s injury, Ochako somehow morphed into the night owl she never thought she’d become. Despite this, the only reason you would catch her up late at night was either because she just got off of work or because she was finishing up some homework, both being tasks she was not too happy to do. She rarely got the chance to enjoy being a morning person, since late nights would require late mornings, which were much different from the early mornings she used to love.

Today was a blessing. Ochako had spent her entire Sunday holed up in her room to study for all her subjects, finishing all of her homework early on before it gets the opportunity to steal away precious hours of sleep later at night. Those precious hours, she made sure to spend them wisely by actually sleeping early that time.

Ochako takes another crunchy bite of toast, looking over to watch the first rays of sunshine spill from the rows of tall, glass windows. A soft, honey, morning glow bathe the dorm’s kitchens, tables, and common area. She takes a deep breath, basking in the comforting silence of the empty dining hall. She closes her eyes and groggily smiles into another sleepy bite of her toast, It’ll be awhile before I get a time like this again.

“Hey.” A familiar voice huffs.

Ochako drops her toast and almost jumps off her seat, a surprised squeak escapes her as she whips her head to see Bakugo standing beside her. He had both hands tucked in the pockets of his sweatpants, red eyes peering down at her waiting for a response.

“God,” Her whole body sags in relief as she brings a hand up to her chest, “You almost gave me a heart attack.” She breathes out.

His eyes narrow, the rest of his expression unchanging, “What’s the derivative of cosine?”

Ochako tilts her head as her eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Good morning to you, too?”

“You’re still not answering the question.” He says impatiently.

The cogs in her mind have yet to completely wake up in order to fully function and comprehend what’s going on. Bakugo doesn’t usually wake up until much later so why the sudden change in schedule? Ochako rubs her tired eyes to double check if she’s seeing things right, but alas, Bakugo was still standing in front of her, proving that she was in fact not hallucinating.

“Wait, what is this again, exactly?” She asks.

His lips curl in disdain, “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m obviously quizzing you.”

“At six in the morning?” She hears the morning rasp in her voice. How, where, and when did he get the idea of doing this on the earliest crack of dawn and on top of that, how is he managing to not sound or look like someone who just woke up?

“So?” Bakugo prods, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m barely awake, Bakugo.” She says hoarsely, her words slow and steady much like how a person still coming out of sleep would sound like.

Two seconds hardly pass after the last syllable of her sentence when Bakugo swiftly leans towards her until their faces are mere centimeters away from each other.

“Hey!” Ochako yelps, hastily leaning back before their noses could touch.

“You look pretty awake to me, round face.” He deadpans, the space between their faces still a finger’s width apart.

She places both hands on his chest to push him away, which unfortunately didn’t do much since she might as well be trying to move a statue, “Okay, jeez, I get it!” Her face turns to the side to hide the deep shade of red flooding her cheeks. “Personal space, Bakugo, have you heard of it?”

“Answering the goddamn question, have you heard of it?” He fires back, finally stepping away to give her some room to recover.

“Fine,” She drags her fingers through her unkempt hair, Ochako’s self-consciousness wasn’t awake enough for her to care how haggard she looked in front of him, “What was the question again?”

Bakugo folds both arms across his chest, “Derivative of cosine.”

Ochako looks away for a moment, squinting her eyes in concentration as the tiny Ochakos in her head scurry about in her head rummaging for an answer. Her eyes find their way back to his expectant ones once she has the right one, “Negative sine.”

Bakugo nods, walking away to head for the kitchens. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as she thanked her lucky stars that she somehow managed to give the correct answer without being a hundred percent sure of it.

She picks up the piece of toast on her plate, taking another bite while her eyes follow Bakugo’s movements as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing some items from the fridge and cupboards. His back was to her as he settled in front of the stove, grabbing a pan in preparation to cook a meal.

Ochako’s thoughts wander to more obvious questions such as why Bakugo was up this early in the morning when he usually wakes up around the same time Kirishima does, which was much later than now. Bakugo was the type to sleep early, so maybe he had coincidentally woke up and got hungry the same time as her today? Did she somehow mess up her alarm’s volume, accidentally setting it off on full blast, thereby waking Bakugo up since they’re on the same floor? No, that’s not it, she would have woken up the entire fourth floor if that were the case.

She drops the thought soon after, deciding that it was none of her business. Her eyes shifted to Bakugo once again as she took another crisp bite of her toast. From afar, Ochako notices the dampness of his hair, its usual explosive nature had it spiking through every direction, but now they were more down than up. He must have just gotten out of the shower before he got here.

Ochako’s gaze drop to the shape of his back, his muscles flexing as Bakugo reached for one of the spices on the top shelf. It was easy to look at since his tank top left the skin on his arms and most of his back bare. She wonders how much of his free time was spent training since it would certainly take a lot of time to sculpt and tone muscles like his.

Her eyes widened as she realized how inappropriate her thoughts were getting. She shakes her head free of those unnecessary thoughts, bringing her attention back to her breakfast and calls out to him, “So was that the last question or...?”

“No.” Bakugo says, setting his spatula aside, “I’m quizzing you the whole damn day, round face.”

“The whole day?” She sputters in disbelief. Ochako had thought that this was just something he planned on doing this morning.

“What did I just say?” He bites. She doesn’t need to see his face to know that he was frowning, she could already hear the scowl in his voice.

“When?”

“When I say so.” He says with finality. Bakugo turns around, holding two plates of the meal he had just finished cooking. She had expected him to move past her to sit at one of the tables behind her, but instead, he places his meal beside hers and takes the seat on her left.

“Um, Bakugo?”

“What.” He asks through a mouthful of rice.

“Why are you sitting next to me?” Her question was out of genuine confusion and had no intention of sounding rude, but it seemed to come off that way nonetheless.

“The hell kind of question is that?” He bites, shooting her a nasty look, “You got a problem with me being here?”

“No!” She shakes her hands nervously, “It’s just that, um, you usually sit over there.” She says sheepishly, pointing to the tables behind them.

Bakugo’s eyebrows draw together, his lips twisting to a frown, “I can do whatever the hell I want and I--” He scoots his chair nearer to the table in protest, “feel like sitting here.”

“Why--”

“What’s the derivative of negative cosine?” He interrupts.

“Sine.” She instinctively answers.

“Good.” He says, returning to his meal. Ochako chooses to do the same since he had made it quite clear that he wasn’t answering any more questions from her. She thinks about how Bakugo could have done this whole quizzing thing of his during their sessions instead of breaking off of their regular tutoring schedule. Come to think of it, Bakugo and her don’t usually interact that much outside of their sessions, so him eating breakfast with her is definitely something new.

Ochako hears a strained yawn coming from the staircase and sees Kaminari stretching his arms in the air. He walks past the kitchens, eyes widening to the size of saucers when he spots the both of them. Kaminari’s face morphs to that of someone who had just uncovered the holy grail, his mouth forming the beginning of a sentence only to be interrupted by Bakugo.

“Keep walking, Dunce Face.” He hisses, eyes not leaving his plate.

Kaminari turns to Ochako and she shrugs as if to say, “I don’t know what’s going on either.”

He walks towards the couches, wide, questioning, eyes still trained on both of them, “That’s all your gonna eat?” Bakugo asks, pointing his chopsticks to the piece of bread on her hands.

“Yeah?” Ochako’s breakfast had always consisted of the cheapest alternative, but it’s not like she was starving herself. She thinks back to days when she’d be eating costly food like tuna and salmon whenever she’d receive an especially good tip from patrons the day before. Ochako’s mouth waters at the memory.

A pair of chopsticks place a helping of fish on her plate, “Tch, You’re an idiot if you think that’s gonna last you through the day.” Bakugo sneers.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” She quickly tries to decline, that is very expensive looking fish.

His eyes stare daggers into her soul, “Do you really want to argue with me about fucking fish?” He snaps.

“No, but--”

“Then just take the damn thing already, Jesus.” Bakugo grumbles.

Ochako hears a faint squeal coming from behind them. She turns to see Mina with Kaminari peeking from the couches, both of them whipping their heads back to the television as soon as she catches them staring. When did Mina get here?

She directs her attention back to the meal before her, unwrapping the spare chopsticks on the table before starting to pick the fish apart.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Bakugo suddenly bites, his face scrunching up at the sight of her work.

“No, I’m not.” She protests. She was just preparing it just as she’s always done before and as far as she knew, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Yes you fucking are.” He argues, “You start here and work your way to the tail.” Bakugo's arm brushes over hers as he leaned towards her, pointing to the back of the fish’s head to its tail. He turns to her, “Got that?”

“Yeah” She mutters, ignoring the slight contact of skin. Ochako does as she’s told, working her way to the tail. She takes her first bite of fish and her eyes widen twice her size, “This tastes amazing.” She takes another bite before turning to him, “How did you do that?”

She knew he could cook, but she didn’t know he was this good at it. She scarfs down another couple bites of his cooking, her taste buds bursting with joy and delight.

“Why the hell do you look so surprised?” Bakugo’s face scrunches up in confusion, “It’s basic ass seasoning.”

Ochako can’t help but close her eyes and smile as she savors every single bite with gusto, “Weirdo.” Bakugo mutters with a bewildered expression on his face.

She starts to debone the rest of her fish under Bakugo’s guidance when she hears another strained squeal from behind them, this one being louder than the last. She turns to see that the couches were now occupied by Kaminari, Mina, Kirishima, and Sero, watching them as if they were a newly opened attraction at the zoo. Kirishima slaps his hand to his mouth as four of them whip their heads back towards the TV.

She feels Bakugo bump her shoulder, “Focus.” He snaps impatiently, “You’ll end up choking on a fucking bone if you don’t do this properly.”

Both of them eventually finish their breakfast, with Ochako making a conscious effort not to get distracted by their peeking audience. Bakugo collects his empty plates, standing up from his seat, red eyes landing on hers.

“What’s the derivative of tangent.”

Ochako sighs, “Secant squared.” I almost forgot about that one.

---

“You two have gotten really close, Ochako, ribbit .” Asui observes, sitting beside Ochako’s desk, Hagakure in tow. She didn’t notice her approaching since she was preoccupied with a practice question on her textbook. Yes, I study during free periods in between classes, sue me.

“Who?” She asks.

“Bakugo.”

“Oh no, not really.” She replies dismissively, “We don’t really do much other than argue and study.” She chuckles nervously. She wasn’t lying, the only reason why they seemed so close was the fact that they were studying together, no more, no less.

“He literally ate breakfast with you!” Hagakure squeals, her uniform bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Come on, Hagakure that doesn’t mean anything.” She looks away, her hand scratching the back of her neck.

“It does when it’s Bakugo!” Hagakure insists.

“She’s right,” Asui agreed, “Bakugo usually sits alone during breakfast ribbit.”

Ochako shakes her head in response. It was just breakfast, there was no subliminal message between two people eating together, plus Bakugo probably just sat next to her so he could do his little quizzing plan with ease.

“You should see the way he looks at you all the time!” Hagakure adds, her skirt vigorously swishing from side to side.

“With annoyance and distaste?” Ochako quips. She couldn’t exactly recall a time when Bakugo had looked at her fondly or even longingly, so it's puzzling for her to be hearing such claims from her friend.

Before Ochako could add to her argument, she’s startled by a voice that booms from the back of her seat, “Oi.”

She whips her head to face the frowning blond behind her, “You have got to stop sneaking up on me like that, Bakugo.” She exhales.

He squints his eyes at her, ignoring her remark, “The limit of one over x.”

Ochako narrows her eyes right back at him. This was the eighth time, probably more, that he had come up to her unannounced to randomly quiz her. He wasn’t even asking questions at this point, it was just an unfinished statement waiting for her to fill in the missing blank, “X is approaching what?” She asks.

“Zero.” He continues to stare her down, as if to pressure her into spitting out the wrong answer.

She lifts her chin, immune to his intimidation tactics, “The limit doesn’t exist.”

Bakugo nods and wordlessly heads back to his seat. Ochako only then notices the dumbfounded looks on their classmates’ faces.

“Is this a new kind of flirting I haven’t heard about?” Kaminari asks, eyes shifting back and forth from her to Bakugo.

“I don’t know, looks pretty hot to me.” Mineta shrugs, leaning against Kaminari’s desk.

“You’d think a lamp post was hot if we put a skirt on it.” Kirishima retorts, giving Mineta a genuinely concerned look.

The purple-haired student crosses his arms in mock offense, “Oh shut up, I have taste.”

Boisterous laughter erupts from Mina and Jirou, both girls’ arms grabbing at their sides as Jirou almost falls from her seat, “He says he has taste!”

Thankfully, the spotlight shifts to Mineta, away from her and Bakugo, as he continues to defend himself. She glances at his direction to see that his eyes were already trained on her, an unreadable expression hanging on his face. Ochako quickly turns away to face her friends once more, sputtering a new topic for them to talk about. Despite this, Hagakure’s words still echoed from the back of her mind.

Ochako had definitely seen the way he looked at her.

---

The resounding ring of the lunch bell marks the end of fourth period. Ochako put away her books and started to make her way out of the classroom when Midnight suddenly calls her to the teacher’s desk.

“Yes, Ms. Midnight?”

“Uraraka-san, would you please be a dear and bring these papers to Aizawa,” she gestures to the stack of paperwork bundled in her arms, “I have to rush over to a meeting with Principal Nezu in five.”

“Of course!” Ochako takes the papers off her hands without hesitation, a bright smile stretching over her face, “I’ll bring it to him right away.”

“Thank you so much, dear.” Midnight purrs. Ochako gives her teacher another warm smile before heading outside, “Fabulous job on your essay by the way!” She calls out from the classroom.

Ochako looks back at the grinning brunette, “Don’t tell anyone, but I gave you an A plus!” She adds, bringing a manicured finger to her lips as she winked at her.

She chuckles at this, Midnight had said that quite loudly for someone who meant for it to be a secret, “Thanks, Ms. Midnight.”

Ochako rushes to the hallway to catch up to her friends. She nudges Iida with her shoulder since both of her hands were occupied as of the moment, “Uraraka! There you are!”

“You guys can go ahead without me,” she gestures to the bundle of paperwork she was carrying, “I’ll be at the teacher’s lounge for a bit.”

“Sure, we’ll be waiting.” Deku says, offering her a small smile.

She musters an awkward, tight-lipped smile before heading towards the other direction. Ochako had only gotten a few steps in before feeling a tap on her shoulder. She turns to see Bakugo, fierce, red eyes zeroing in on her once again.

Ochako was somewhat glad to know that he had learned to not sneak up on her anymore.

“Cosine of pi.” He says flatly.

Her lips curl into a smirk, “Negative one.”

“You guys are the weirdest couple ever.” Kaminari announces as the rest of Bakugo’s friends caught up with him and as if on cue, both him and Ochako objected.

“We’re not a couple.”

“Aw, they’re so in sync!” Kirishima gushes, “You sure you didn’t rehearse that beforehand?”

Bakugo sends a spine-tingling glare to the redhead’s direction, “Kidding, kidding.” He says, laughing nervously.

Ochako turns to Bakugo, “Got anything else you want to ask?” She urges. He might have another question ready to throw at her for all she knows.

“Yeah, what the hell is that? ” He barks, gesturing to the stack of papers in her arms.

“Let me rephrase,” She began, “Got anything else you want to ask nicely?”

Bakugo rolls his eyes, “What’s that?” He asks through grit teeth. All three boys behind him bring their hands to their mouths to stop themselves from laughing, “Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo hisses at them.

“Some papers for Mr. Aizawa,” She smiles, satisfied with the change in his tone, “and speaking of, I gotta go.”

She turns to Bakugo, “If you have any more questions, you know where to find me.”

Ochako quickly waves them goodbye as she briskly walked towards the faculty room’s direction. It wasn’t a long way from where their classroom was located, but the journey felt like forever because of the weight on her arms. This was a heavy stack of papers.

She finally reaches her destination when she feels another tap on her shoulder. Ochako half expected to see Bakugo’s frowning face again, but she turned to see a tall, lanky boy with a seemingly crooked nose smiling at her, “Uraraka, right?” He asks.

Her eyes shift to the shorter, pudgier boy beside him, then back to the lankier one, trying to recall if she knew them, “Yes?”

“It really is you!” The shorter one beams at her.

Ochako smiles nervously, “Can I help you?” Her eyes were still shifting back and forth between the two boys, her mind trying to figure out why they looked so familiar. Had she seen them before at the sport’s festival? Or maybe walked past them in the cafeteria one time?

“This is Shintani,” The tall one gestured to his friend, “And I’m Kai.” He turns to her, still smiling, but something about the glint in his eyes tells her that he had something else up his sleeve.

“You’re in Class 2A, right?” Kai continues, “With Katsuki Bakugo.”

Bakugo? She thought to herself. Why bring him up all of a sudden?

“Yeah, I am.” She replies cautiously, the first signs of suspicion snaking its way to her gut. Ochako still couldn’t put her finger on where she had seen them before, but now with the sudden mention of Bakugo, she had all the more reason to stay on alert.

“Must be tough being classmates with someone like that, huh?” Shintani says sympathetically, like he felt the need to console her as if she had been dealt the worst hand of cards in a game.

“What are you talking about?” She asks quizzically.

“Oh, come on,” Shintani sniggers as if she had told him an inside joke, “You know how that animal gets.”

Kai nods in agreement, “A borderline savage, if you ask me.”

“But nobody asked you.” Ochako retorts, blinking back her shock afterwards. She hadn’t meant to say that, but a couple of strangers badmouthing Bakugo was getting on her nerves.

He turns to her, the kind smile on his face slips into a smug, lopsided grin, his facade instantly crumbling to partly show her what his true colors really were, “See this?” He asks, pointing to his nose, “That bastard did this to me.”

Ochako’s steps back, eyes widening in realization. The students from Class 2C. That’s why they looked so familiar. They were the ones she saw in that fight with Bakugo.

“I don’t even know why this school still lets him stay in the hero course.” Shintani adds.

Kai laughs before turning to her once again, “He only gives the rest of us a bad image, don’t you think so?”

Ochako’s grip on the stack of papers tighten as she takes a step towards them, “If both of you think that I’m going to join in some petty rant about Bakugo, then you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

She attempts to walk past them, but Kai steps aside to block her path, “You were matched up with him during last year’s sports festival, weren’t you, Ochako?”

“He was truly out of line treating you like some ragdoll he can throw around so easily.” Shintani adds.

Ochako’s face twists in annoyance, “First of all,” she begins, turning to Kai, “Do not call me by my first name.”

“Second,” She turns to Shintani, “He was fighting me seriously. That’s what you do in a competition.”

“And a piece of advice,” She steps closer to Kai, shoving a finger onto his chest. She didn’t know where she had gotten the strength to be able to carry the weight of Ms. Midnight’s paperwork with one hand, but it was there. “Don’t talk about someone like that when you don’t know the first thing about them.”

“And you do?” Kai challenges.

“I may not know Bakugo from head to toe, but I have enough decency in me to not walk up to random strangers to badmouth somebody I don’t know.” She bites back venomously before turning the other direction.

Before she could get any farther, Kai grabs her arm, his ironclad grip almost making her wince in pain, “Hey!” She protests.

“Come on, just hear us out--”

In a blink of an eye, Ochako is suddenly pulled away from his grasp. A tall, looming figure stood in between them, shielding her from both students.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Bakugo growls.

Ochako stares at him, wide-eyed. Bakugo’s back was to her, his shoulders rising and falling along the furious rhythm in each of his breaths.

Kai and Shintani fall back, fear and surprise flashing in both students’ eyes. Despite this, Kai nervously grins and takes a brave step forward, “Speak of the devil!”

“Shut the fuck up and piss off while you can still walk.” Bakugo snarls, his voice seething with malice.

Shintani follows in his friends footsteps and also steps towards Bakugo, “You’re all bark and no bite.”

“Walk away or I break your nose next .” He threatens. Ochako places her hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, her grip firm, “Bakugo, let’s just go.”

Bakugo doesn’t move, his body still rigid with rage, “You heard your girlfriend!” Shintani calls out.

“Unless you want to hit me again, I’ll show her what a real man looks like!” Kai taunts, making sure to look behind Bakugo to give Ochako a suggestive grin.

She feels him tense up even more under her palms as he begins to pace towards them. Ochako takes his hand and for the first time, Bakugo looks back at her, his expression livid, “They’re not worth it.” She warned, adding weight to every word she spoke.

Ochako holds his gaze as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze and for a moment, the anger in his eyes subside.

Kai takes another step forward, ready to hurl another insult at him when the door to the faculty’s office opens, “What seems to be the problem here?” Aizawa asks, hooded eyes flickering between Bakugo and the two students from 2C.

A bright smile works its way back to Kai’s face, “Nothing at all, Mr. Aizawa!” He beams, “We were just about to leave!”

Kai paced towards Bakugo, pausing so that he was directly beside him. “One of these days, when you least expect it, you’ll get what’s coming to you, Katsuki.” He says, barely above a whisper, but loud enough so that only Bakugo and her could hear it. Cold eyes still aimed forward, Kai walked away, Shintani in tow.

Aizawa turns to Ochako, his tired eyes dropping to Midnight’s paperwork, “Those must be from Midnight, bring them over here.” He instructs, walking back inside the office.

She feels Bakugo let go of her hand as he walked away, not even giving her the chance to talk to him. Ochako’s hand fold inwards as she stood there with a million questions swarming in her head.

“Uraraka.” Aizawa calls out from inside.

“Coming!”

33 notes · View notes

utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Text

Fast Fic #3

Day of Disasters

Word Count: 1.3k Warning: cursing, adult themes, blood Summary: This takes place sometime during OH2.

A/N: Thank you @ultimate-milkboy for requesting this!

________________________________________

You know how people say they ‘woke up on the wrong side of the bed’ to describe their less than pleasant mood? Well let me tell you how the universe punished me for waking up alone in someone else’s bed.

It was 8:20 in the morning and I had to be at Edenbrook by 9AM. I rolled my sluggish half nude body out of the cozy Egyptian cotton sheets of the king-sized bed and made my way to the en-suite for a much-needed shower. As I waited for the water to heat up I reveled in the sweet smell of our mixed scents still lingering on my skin, nothing could ever compare to that musky tang - but the moment I parted my legs to pee I gagged at the festering stench mixed with sweat. My senses clouded by the smell, I hopped as quickly as I could into the walk in shower. Briefly forgetting there’s a slight step, two of my longer toes collided with the cement base and I yipped out in pain. Fuck that’s gonna leave a mark.

At 8:40 I opened the large glass door exiting the apartment complex. I kid you not, I took approximately 2 steps through the door when a large voice called,

“Dr. Lao, Hi!”

Fuck.

Plastering a pleasant smile to my lips I spun on my heels to see Gary Garrison. The aloof intern asked me a bunch of unimportant questions about work and my evening as we unintentionally walked to work together.

“What are you doing on this side of town, Doctor?”

Fuck. One of my friends, most likely Elijah, probably told him we live in a flatshare in the opposite direction. I hoped to all the Gods that he didn’t know He lived here - that building or this side of town. The only way he would know is if he quizzed senior attendings, and even then He rarely gives out his address.

The thought eased my mind a bit.

“I had to run an errand for a friend,” I told him. It was none of his business anyway.

Once I was free of Garrison, I turned a corner to hit up Derry Roasters for some much needed pick me up. Lackadaisically, I kept on walking. My mind didn’t even process the yellow tape, the wooden board on the window or that the cafe was closed due to a break in.

No coffee for me today, cool. I guess I’m stuck with the dishwater - maybe Ethan will let me use his holy grail?

Walking from this part of town meant I would be entering the hospital through the back entrance which I usually avoid because all the surgeons were always working out or being rowdy. I rounded into view and wouldn’t you know it, the surgical residents were playing a game of basketball. Shirts vs Skins. From a distance I could tell Bryce was Captain Skins - the beads of sweat glistening in the morning sun off of his flawless abs. I, Becca Lao, am only human after all - so on that basis I let myself ogle the surgeons for a moment too long on the makeshift sideline. Like some sort of sick joke something fast and hard collided directly with my cheek. I was on the pavement clutching my bloody nose and running my tongue over my throbbing gums within seconds.

That’s gonna bruise.

Suddenly it wasn’t morning anymore - all I could see was shades of black, I tried to blink my other eye to focus but it was no use.

“Fuck, Becks!” I heard Bryce call as heavy footsteps raced over to me. His strong and clammy arms pulled me to my feet. “You ok?”

“No?” I snorted trying to make light of the situation. Without a doubt everyone’s attention was on me and I did not need another embarrassing moment circulating the gossip mill. “Is it bad?” I turned away from Bryce’s semi-lit up form so he could assess the damage.

“I’d still do you,” he joked and I could only imagine the megawatt smile emanating.

Bryce linked his arm with mine and rushed me inside. Once in the less invasive fluorescent lighting my eyesight started to come back just as Ines and Ethan were coming down the hall.

“Ohmygod Becca what happened!” Ines screeched in a motherly tone.

Bryce was quick to respond, “Collateral damage.” Ethan raised a brow at the words and Bryce continued to explain, “Wrong place, wrong time. We really need to work on your reflexes, Becks.”

If I didn’t have blood gushing over my hand and scrubs I would have snorted. Bryce really did know how to make the worst of situations better.

“Come on, Rookie,” Ethan grabbed my things from Bryce and wrapped his arm protectively around my waist. “Dr. Delarosa go ahead without me, I trust your judgment.”

Slowly he led me to the nearest empty exam room. He chucked my things onto the extra chair and guided me to sit on the table. Ethan removed my bloodied hands from my face, shoving cotton balls up my nostrils to stop the bleeding. The world around me was still hazy but I could see the unamused expression on his face as he wiped my hands down.

“I leave you alone for three hours…” he mumbled to himself.

My first instinct was to retort how he chose to head to work early and alone to keep suspicion off of us. And how I walked to work like any other day, but for some reason the universe was punishing me for sleeping over on a workday.

But all of a sudden I felt lightheaded.

“Rookie. Rebecca, stay with me,” he called in his authoritative doctor voice, his aged and calloused hand on my unaffected cheek.

I locked my eyes on his effervescent oceans. My God how is he real? A sleepy smile arose as I took in his gorgeous features - worried and determined cracks of age, naturally manicured eyebrows, stubble that accented his model-like jawline, lips with the most perfect and kissable cupid's bow... I felt high from all the blood rushing through my nostrils and from the rattling in my ear.

Ethan did a full check to make sure nothing was damaged. He sprayed saline to stop the bleeding when it wasn’t halting on it’s own. He moved around me in comfortable silence, completely in his element. If I wasn’t completely enamored with him before, I sure as hell was now. He is the calming certainly anyone would need during a disaster.

How did I get so lucky?

I chuckled at the thought.

Ethan looked over to me and incredulously asked, “What’s so funny?”

What’s funny is I wore you down until you couldn’t effectively push me away any longer. And that means I have a stronger willpower than you.

I sobered up, “Nothing.”

He shook his head and checked his watch.

My tall doctor closed the distance between us, cupping my cheek. My breath hitched as he leaned in. When he knew I couldn’t take the anticipation any more he pulled one of the cotton buds out of my nostril! I gasped at the clearing sensation.

Ethan tilted my head back to make sure there weren’t any clots and moved my head to the side to make sure there wasn’t a ton of swelling.

“If you wanted a bruise so badly you could have just asked,” he said with a mischievous glimmer.

I pouted and the bastard pulled the other cotton out.

“Ethan!” I screamed. “Warn me next time; that fucking hurts.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled against my forehead where he had just placed a kiss. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Ready for rounds?”

“No,” I responded, causing Ethan to let out a little scoff. Today has been fucking awful. “This city is feeling kinda evil and I need to find caffeine.”

He disposed of his rubber gloves and turned to look at me with arms folded, “Do I want to know what else happened in my absence?”

I gave him the biggest puppy dog pout I could.

He made a show of rolling his eyes but we both know he can’t resist me. “Come on, I’ll make you a cup in the office.”

I hopped off the exam bed and beamed, “Two. I need two cups.”

________________________________________

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay

#fast fic #requests #open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #bryce lahela #oph #choices oph2 #oph ff #ff

71 notes · View notes

missbeautyandherbeast · 4 years

Text

Delicate

Leo X Reader (High School AU)

Summary: Senior year and here you are, ready to just get through it with no mishaps. It was not going to be anything like last year. You swore it to yourself... But a certain blue eyed guy seems to be derailing that plan.

Summary: Who’s ready for another High school AU? Because I am!! Not quite the same universe as my other one (but let’s see what I can do and maybe that’ll happen) but this time with Leo. I was going to write something angsty, but then this happened so.... I love you all and let me know what you think!!

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @boatloadsofheart @legandarybeauty @crazywritingbug @bitch-kms @ravn-87 @just-a-casual-fangirl-011 @unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox @ilikestuffproductions @whygz @coffee-addicti @sugarspooks15@leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies @fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan @big-banging-red @iceprincess2019 @raphaeladdict @thirstyforvenom @merindagriese @depressedemo-152 @bengewatch @corabmarie @bitemebro522 @tmnt-queen @muleka-loka @violet-sky-96 @curadopordeus @artemismohr18 @thewhisperpen @xjupitermoonsx @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3 @dixonreedusfangirlforever

I saw him in the halls all the time. We were almost in the same sphere of friends. Except that I kept myself away from people like him. The partiers, the drinkers, the “popular.” Sure, if I tried, I could get into the circle, but I didn’t want to be like that. Ever. I knew who I was, and I was okay with that.

Not that I hadn’t tried. My entire junior year looked like the movie Mean Girls and I was Cady. It was exhausting trying to keep up with who hated who and who was friends with who. I had better use of my time, and emotional quota.

Still, some part of me wanted to think that he was different. Now that it had been a few years since the Mutant Act was introduced, Leo and his brothers had no problem finding their place in our school clicks.

He was a football player, the quarterback. He had every cheerleader talking about him and every college looking at him.

Not that I was looking or talking about him. No. Of course not.

We had Chemistry together. The class not... We were lab partners, that was it. Got it?

Good. Because my heart didn’t.

First hour chem, bright and early at seven thirty in the morning. What a joy. I took my seat at about seven ten and scrolled through my Tumblr notifications, answering what I could. He sat down next to me at about seven fifteen.

Taking out a binder that wasn’t for this class—not that I was nosey, but I knew what Shakespeare looked like okay?—He skimmed through a few pages and tried to underline, hesitating to write.

“Engle?” I asked softly, looking up from my phone. “I think I have him an hour before you,” I offered a small smile.

“Yeah,” He nodded and sighed. “Why of all things would he choose Macbeth?” Leo muttered.

“He’s a Harry Potter fan. It’s in there. So, he probably likes the familiarity.” I shrugged. “And there’s a lot of good symbolism and stuff in it to write about.”

“You actually understand this?” He looked at me shocked.

I let out a small laugh and looked down quickly, trying not to blush.

“Most of the time,” I admitted.

Bri perched at the edge of our table and quickly captured his attention, talking about the game Friday. I sighed internally and took out my stuff for class. Class droned on, covalent bonding... real riveting stuff.

All the while I watched as Leo tried to do both, chemistry and English work as he tried to decipher both codes. Deciding that I had no control over my heart anymore, I took out my other binder—my English binder—and slipped out my “No Fear Shakespeare” Macbeth book from the pocket and slid it over to him with a soft smile before giving my attention back to the teacher.

“Thanks,” He offered it back to me at the end of class.

“Keep it, I’ve read it enough times.” I hugged my binder to my chest. “And I think you need it more than I do,”

He let out a little sheepish laugh and looked down. “Yeah, probably. Thanks Y/n,”

“Anytime,”

I watched him walk away and sighed.

“You like him,” Megan nudged my shoulder, grinning—she was a sorta friend of mine. We had done a few projects together—I gave her a shrug.

Maybe I did. But maybe I didn’t want to admit it.

“I can set you two up,” She smirked.

“No, God no, I’m not like that anymore Megs, you know that. That... that part of me is gone.” I shook my head as we walked to second hour together—Engle.

___________________________

Leo stared at the book in his hands. Your notes were all over it and there were so many little tabs and dog eared pages. He couldn’t quite figure out your system, but there had to be some importance for what you highlighted or marked.

And then there was the matter of why you had given it to him in the first place. You were smart, he knew that. You blew past him in every class and he had no idea how. Your homework was always done, and your essays were always exemplified. And you had given him this book. Your holy grail of Shakespeare notes. And you told him to keep it.

He knew who you were, last year you hung out with him and his—your—friends, but this year, something changed. It was like you removed yourself all together form his group. He hadn’t heard any drama that went down, or fights... you just sort of fell out.

“Who’d you pay for that?” Raph joked, nodding to the book. “Or did you steal it form some nerd?”

“It’s Y/n’s.” Leo narrowed his eyes at his brother, “She gave it to me.”

“You still like her then?” Raph raised an eyebrow.

“No,” He shot down quickly, then sighed, “It’s complicated... over the summer. I don’t know what happened. We just don’t talk anymore.”

“Well, have you made an effort to talk to her?” Raph mused. “I know you act like some bigshot athlete, but you are still my brother, fearless. You’re not fooling anyone, and I don’t think you’re fooling her either.”

“How could she possibly know anything?” Leo muttered.

“She’s a smart kid. Weird at time sure, but she did something I have to give her credit for.”

“What?”

“She stopped pretending.”

____________________________

My phone buzzed as I was combing through my math homework—curse you, derivatives. I picked it up and saw that it was a snap message from Leo.

Cursing Megan internally, I opened it.

—Leo: thanks for the book :)

I stared at the message, trying to figure out if Megan had talked to him or not. But if Megan knew, so did the whole cheer squad probably. I didn’t think that Leo did though.

—Y/n: sure

There, totally casual.

—Leo: I think engle thinks I’m cheating because I suddenly got good at understanding macbeth

I chuckled at that and shook my head. Yeah, that would be Engle. Maybe I would talk to him about it.

—Y/n: He would

See? Still casual. No reason for alarm. It was almost easier talking to him like this. There were no expectations, no one was watching. It just...was.

—Leo: you going to the game Friday?

Okay, so maybe not.

—Y/n: I dunno, not really my scene.

—Leo: You used to go all the time last year

—Y/n: Things change...

—Leo: It wasn’t something that I did was it?

I stared at the letters, trying to make sense of what they meant. Well I knew what they meant; I just didn’t know where they came from. Why would he think that he was the problem? We barely talked at all least year. Maybe a streak here and there on snapchat... but nothing...

—Y/n: Why would you have done something?

—Y/n: It’s fine, I just stopped trying to impress people whose opinions didn’t matter

—Y/n: Not that your opinion doesn’t matter to me

I quickly added that.

—Leo: oh

—Leo: okay

What was I supposed to make of that? I groaned and rubbed my face.

—Y/n: I promise that it wasn’t anything that you did

—Y/n: I was just tired of living up to other people’s expectations

—Y/n: So, I stopped

He didn’t respond for a few minutes, so I put down my phone and started to read the next equation, when my phone buzzed again. It was him.

—Leo: It’s not the same without you around

Okay, what the hell was that supposed to mean? How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? My heart was elated that he had said something like that, but I didn’t want to hope that he had missed me. There had to be something that I was missing. Maybe this was a set up...

—Y/n: I’m still here

There. Nonchalant. I set down my phone and ignored it when it buzzed again, determined to finish my homework before midnight.

The notification wasn’t him. It was just an email.

________________________

Leo walked into class the next morning and found you sitting there. Not like you hadn’t been there before him every morning of class. But it seemed different, though you remained the same.

He sat down next to you, almost nervous, and not knowing why.

“Morning,” He offered.

“Hi,” You looked up and smiled.

He could see that something hid behind your smile, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to know. It dawned on him that maybe he never really knew you at all last year. Just a persona, like you knew his mask.

_______________________

“Do you like Harry Potter then?” He asked, almost hesitant.

Confusion flitted across my face as I looked up at him, turning off my phone. He continued.

“You mentioned it yesterday. You knew that Macbeth was used in Harry Potter...”

I smiled as he connected the dots for me.

“Uh, don’t tell anyone, because someone will be out for blood. But no, not really. I haven’t read them... and I’ve barely seen the movies,” I admitted, embarrassed.

“Really?” Genuine surprise lit up his face. “God, Donnie would have a heart attack. He and Mikey are so into it. It’s hard to go without one of them mentioning or referencing something,” He sounded annoyed, but with endearment.

I laughed, knowing what that was like.

“Yeah, I’m... I know a lot of fandoms... but never go into Harry Potter. I’ve tried, believe me, but,” I shrugged. “I think I missed the right time in my life to read them ya know?” My eyes met smiling blue ones as he nodded.

“So what fandoms are you into?”

“Oh, we don’t have enough time for that,” I laughed as the bell rang.

“Who knew miss popular over here was such a nerd,” He teased as the teacher started the class.

Like my stuff? Here’s my masterlist!

66 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

A Talk With BREATH, Portland’s New Meditative Doom Metal Duo

~By Billy Goate~

Illustrations by Tyler Wintermute

We're used to doom metal being, well, rather dark and sinister, but can it be meditative too? OM, the famous Al Cisneros side project, proved that yes, it can. Other acts, such as the celebrated UK band Bong, the New Brunswick trio Zaum followed (with Italy's Ufomammut, Finland's Dark Buddha Rising, and Ukraine's Bomg being just a step away with their generous, if often louder, landscapes).

Then I encountered doom metal yoga in Portland, and all bets were off.

Last month, Doomed & Stoned introduced you to another band you can add to your short list, whether listening in your Savasana stance ("corpse pose"), getting your groove on at work, or doing a little wake 'n bake to start the day.

This is BREATH from the City of Roses and on February 5th, all mysteries will be revealed as the meditative doom duo brings us their debut LP, 'Primeval Transmissions' (2021) on Desert Records.

Their music "is informed by adventures leaving the comforts of what was known behind. Going into unknown woods sometimes figuratively and some literal. With heavy melodically driven grooves their Meditation Doom will take you to secluded caves, and totemic vision quests'' (band bio).

Over the weekend, I traded words with Steven O'Kelly (bass guitar, vox) and Ian Caton (drums, percussion) recently to get to know this new name in the Pacific Northwest heavy underground. Doomed & Stoned also takes this opportunity to share a new visualizer with you for Breath's latest single, "Observer."

Breath - Observer

What themes and concepts does Breath explore musically and lyrically?

Peering into rituals meant to transcend the physical world. Initiations into the varied mystery schools like Orphism or Druidry I find very powerful. The Shamanistic role being so selfless putting themselves through extreme trials, shedding their previous self to protect their people by communication with spirit.

These things have lots of weight with sacrifice, and knowledge seeking from traditions nearly lost to time. Our sound aims to reflect that weight through the way we use the bass guitar and drums. I think a theme of meditation informs a lot of the riffs with spaciousness and transformation.

Who are your musical influences?

Foundationally, Black Sabbath is a center pillar. My first record being a Sabbath compilation by Earmark. I appreciate the balance they find between settled songs like "Orchid" leading into its counterpart "Lord of this World." Grails’ Burning Off Impurities is such a vehicle that I would get lost in through the whole record. Melting boundaries of East and West with Zak Riles’ classical guitar and the crushing drum work by Emil Amos.

That brings me to Om, which is an important band to me that struck a chord all the way through from the music to aesthetic. Every show I’ve been to is like I’ve snuck into a temple ceremony, and leave feeling light on my feet and blissfully ringing eardrums. "On the Mountain at Dawn" is the heaviest song to me, with this immediacy and undeniable flow like the strong current of a river.

Photographs by Marissa Caldarelli

What sort of gear do you guys perform and record with?

Ian: DW Performance series Drum kit with Maple shells. Remo heads and Aquarian Kick Drum head. Zildjian K cymbals.

Steven: 4003 Rickenbacker bass guitar. Electric Amp Innovations Power Unit 180. Ampeg 8x10 speaker cabinet. Geezer Butler Cry Baby bass wah. MXR bass compressor. Ernie Ball VP Jr. Electro Harmonix Freeze. Deluxe Bass Big Muff. Also, Shure SM 58 and VE-20 Boss Vocal Performer.

You've mentioned gaining inspiration from solitary walks in the woods. What does the Oregon outdoors mean to you and how does it stir your creative processes?

When I first tried meditation, I was given this palm sized booklet by Buddhadasa Bhikkhu on breathwork as the entrance to a practice. Feeling and visualizing blue water filling and then leaving the well of your lungs. The band like our actual breath is a lifeblood for me. Making music and lyrics I can easily and gladly lose myself in. That practice I believe is responsible for shaping our sound.

Sometimes I feel a sort of unspoken conversation with the trees that surround, lots of times getting most lyrical ideas during these hikes. Boundaries are fluid in this space, and by its very nature puts my mind out of whatever box it might’ve been in before. Wilderness here has lots of personalities through wind, rain, and sun. For me, watching trees come alive moving in the wind or the quiet calm after a rain breeds deep reflection. Nature is a mirror.

What's the biggest epiphany or the strangest thing that you've experienced while being surrounded by Mother Nature?

On a summer day at Mt. Tabor in East Portland sitting in a secluded grassy opening circled by trees, I had the most psychedelic out of body experience without the aid of eating anything. High through trance, I came to the plants and tree’s awareness of me and I them. Like they knew my name.

Many of your tracks tell a story. Are these original tales or based upon the band's own mythos?

Whether I identify with an archetype or am retelling an experience I had, All the lyrics have roots in my real life even if themes might be far flung from our time.

Primeval Transmissions by Breath

Give us a walk through your new record, track by track, if you will.

Track 1 Starting with "Evocation," it’s a mixture of Shamanistic ritual and the effects meditation can have in clearing hurdles of adversity. I had been reading a book on Druid Lore and their equivalents around the world. Then I discovered Werner Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams and was completely spellbound. Seeing cave paintings perfectly intact, it’s entrance hidden by a rock slide before Roman times in France. This painted a visual counterpart to my reading and was consumed with the world it represented. Hallucinogenic trance, their soul migrating to the spirit world through the rising smoke of the fire lighting cave art meant to dance with flickering flame. Taking on an animal guide and returning anew.

Track 2 "Dwarka" at its roots is a story about confrontation with otherworldly phenomena. There’s two personalities to it. At first the ominous impending arrival and, the character coming to grips with what he’s witnessed. The nature of the main riff reflects the enormity of space, and what might be out there. I feel like the energy of the song mirrors how the witness felt, getting heavier as the night becomes more harrowing.

Track 3 "Observer" bridges my love of Eastern music like Ravi Shankar and Baris Manco with metal accents. It’s the journey your mind can take through meditation, simply focusing on your breath and how it can lead to intensity. Mainly one riff building and transforming over the course of Observer. The lyrics are a recording of Sri Swami Satchidananda leading Hatha Yoga, an important teacher for me.

Track 4 "Battle for Harmonic Balance" is centered around the ancient mystery schools of the left and right Eye of Horus. Invoking themes of renewal like the Akhet, a Sun rising between two mountains. Heaviness from the beginning reflecting the weight of importance Egypt holds to me, being a cornerstone of our past. The riff deconstructs towards the end, aligning the song like the Sphinx during the Equinox. Facing East to summon the Sun once more. "Halls of Amenti" is the realm of the Gods, where the Sun goes at night. An ethereal ceremony exchanging distortion and drums for the hypnotic beat of a Shaker and deep Bass guitar.

Track 5 The reprise to "Evocation" is a continuation of the Shaman’s trek across the razor’s edge. With this offering without lyrics we convey the obstacles, lulls, and successful return starting with the similar ritual beginning as its first chapter. This is followed by a call and response conversation between drums and bass guitar. Floating in the ether until finding his way alongside the totemic animal guide culminating at the end, returning to body like the tide returns out to Sea.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Interviews #Breath #Portland #Oregon #doom #meditative #metal #doom metal #meditative doom #interview #Desert Records #Doomed and Stoned

5 notes · View notes

fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

The Extra Servant of the Grail War (Kid Hakuno, Caster Gilgamesh, Caster Gilles)

She opened the door to her room, looking around at the dark living room area down the hall. Her parents had left the door open and her brother was quiet.

She wasn’t used to that.

It was strange. She could hear someone laughing, chatting with someone else who had a strangely melodic voice.

Had they gotten guests?

“Do you think we should move on to the next house?”

“These people had some power behind them. We should look for books and-“

“We could or we could go to the next family! They could be more fun!”

Next family?

Hakuno frowned as she walked closer to the living room. Rubbing at her eyes, she missed the dark pool ahead until she stepped in it. The warm liquid had created a slick surface. Her body fell backwards, slamming hard against the ground.

The voices stopped.

“There was-“

“GO! One more!”

Her hand lifted, but it was red. She’d seen this before.

Blood.

All she could do was scamper back towards her room, delving into it and throwing the door shut as she heard someone calling out for the little girl. The latch to the door was thrown, but it didn’t matter. Her bedroom door wasn’t thick and it had the dog flap on it.

The window?

Hakuno glanced at it.

She could climb out, she’d probably make it to the next door neighbor, but…

“Oh dearie!” The melodious voice was back, sending a shiver through her bones. They were just sounding a little too strange. She couldn’t put into words the problem, but there was something wrong with that man.

A pounding began on the door.

Hakuno squeaked at the sound, scrambling for the window.

She’d just have to chance it. The two sounded like they were both at her door. The pounding was coming over and over again as that chasing person’s voice spoke up loudly.

Her hands were fumbling with the latch to the window. She couldn’t calm her racing mind or the tremble in her hands as she tried to get out of the room. There was no such thing as calm. She was covered in blood. There was blood everywhere which meant…

Where are my parents?!

My brother?

She’d gotten into a fight with Hakunon about summoning servants earlier. She’d said she could summon a great one and her brother had taken it as a statement that he couldn’t.

I’m sorry, Hakuno thought towards her brother, her tears forming in her eyes.

She’d been so mean.

She should have apologized sooner.

The latch was moved, but-

“HELLO LITTLE GIRL!”

Hakuno screamed.

The melodious voice escaped from the bug eyed man. He was grabbing at the window and Hakuno latched it back into place.

The door was shaking on its hinges now.

“Do you think this will work?” Bug Eyes asked, his hand moving a moment before she saw the latch turn.

Hakuno rushed to the bathroom in her room, throwing that door closed. Her body pressed against the door as she tried to think.

Her eyes fell to the cabinet.

She’d been hiding her notes about summoning and her mommy’s notes underneath her towels. It let her study in her room without her brother finding out. No one looked underneath her towels and the loose board.

I have to.

She hurried, throwing the towels aside and wiping at her hands. There was a red mark on her hands, showing where the blood had been. She could feel her body shaking hard as she flipped through the papers and found a tiny summoning circle drawn.

That was enough.

She pressed the paper to her chest, closing her eyes and repeating the words her parents would tease them by reciting to ‘summon’ them for chores.

Please…

The door to her bathroom was pounding now.

Please someone… Please come here…

A series of sparks came from her hands. The paper fell from her hands. The door was thrown open, splintering everywhere before-

A crash came immediately. Where the door splintering had been loud, it was nothing compared to the sound of the movement of that gold object near her face. Her hand burned. Her eyes flickered up to a flowing white fabric against a blue vest.

The intruder was running.

She could hear Bug Eyes screaming out for the other to meet them outside. The person that had come out of her summoning was watching after them.

He’s so tall…

Immersed in sun kissed skin and baggy, colorful clothing; the man before her glanced over.

“…you’re but a child.”

Safe!

Hakuno leaped at him, wrapping her arms around his waist as high as she could reach. Her face pressed against the golden belt, the feathers attached to it tickling her face.

The man didn’t seem to want to do anything to her.

“Not even going to introduce yourself.” The man sighed, patting her head. “Cling as you wish, I suppose, master. I am Caster, but I shall permit you to call me ‘King Gilgamesh’ if you wish.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, nuzzling against his hand a little.

Those red eyes glinted, a smirk forming on his face before he looked around them.

“Can you help find my parents and brother? My brother is my twin. He’s got brown hair like me. My parents do too.”

“There are many with…” he stopped talking for some reason, glancing over her before he pulled her up into his arms. “Come with me. I should give your parents a good talking to about caring for a child, especially one whom is capable of summoning me.”

He held onto him tightly, pressing her face to his chest.

The scent of warm spices met her nose as she cuddled against him. They were moving, but he held her face closer when he stopped and said something in a strange language.

“Kingy?”

She started to pull back, but the man held her tighter to him.

“You don’t want to remember them this way. You aren’t allowed to see.”

“What-“

“I’m going to set you in a clean bathroom and… clean this. You need to scrub every inch of yourself. Do not leave the bathroom until I come to collect you. Understood?”

“Are my family okay?”

The king held her tight, hugging her closer.

“Kingy?”

“Listen to your king. We shall speak later of this.”

#drabble #drabbles

34 notes · View notes

madirablack · 4 years

Text

Home part 4

Wow it's been a hot minute huh. Someone ask for Jay and Timmy bonding at 3AM? Its really short but I'll give you guys some more soon.

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

The rain battered against the windows, shaking the trees and rattling off the whole city. The lights of the city remained lit, even with a bombing, Gotham's wheels kept turning. They were no strangers to disasters. No matter how much he wanted to, Jason couldn't sleep. Too cold then too hot, it was too loud then too quiet, too light then too dark. He spent hours trying to find the right position, even trying the floor at one point. Without the noise of cars, sirens and stuff smashing, and without the lumpy bed and thick scent of cigarettes, it felt weird. This was his room, it had been for many years, but it had grown foreign and lonely with disuse. He was laid on his front, blanket falling off slightly. He hugged the pillow with both arms as he looked to the clock on the wall. He could barely make out the time in the dark, but he could see that it was around 3:05 AM.

With a dissatisfied sigh, he cut his losses and put a shirt on before he went downstairs.

The house was ridiculous. You could be there for a week and not see the same thing twice. At night, the halls were mostly dark, but it kind of became muscle memory as to where each set of stairs or each turn took you. He took extra care to be quiet, not wanting to disturb the precious little amount of sleep the family would be getting tonight. Once he was down to the main floor, he began snaking his way to the kitchen, hoping nobody was up. In the midst of everything that happened, he had forgotten to eat, and was now feeling the effects of such an unwise decision. An empty stomach for 30 hours was not a good move. What he didnt expect, however, was the light to be glowing through the open door as he walked past. He walked in, wincing at all the sudden bright light. Once he adjusted, he looked around to see if anyone was there. The kitchen was absurdly grandiose. Large, open, well-organized and well-coordinated. All the appliances were so shiny you could see your face in just about anything. He began to hum to himself as he opened the fridge and freezer simultaneously, scanning for any good quality snack material, when, out of nowhere, he found the holy grail. An untouched pint of the best ice cream flavour in the world. He grabbed a spoon and began eating it straight from the carton, not caring that it was 3am, not caring that he should be eating something far better. He turned around and promptly jumped six feet in the air when he saw Tim sat at the counter.

God, he looked like shit. The kid was pale, bloodshot eyes had dark bags hanging under them, and his hands and shoulders looked like they were twitching. He was wearing a grey sweater that looked five sizes too big for him. He just looked like a scared child, like he was about to start crying. He looked like he had just seen someone get split in half or something equally scarring. When he saw Jason begin to stare at him, he offered a weak, defeated-looking smile before he curled his bony hands around a mug of what one could only presume to be coffee.

"Timmy," Jason began as he reached for the paper towels to wipe up the ice cream he dropped, crouching down then speaking again as he came back up. "What's going on kid?" He said with genuine concern in his voice, not getting too close as he knew how skittish Tim could get under certain circumstances. He watched as Tim took a deep breath, followed by a sip of coffee, before beginning to speak. "I... I kinda had a nightmare... but then it turned into what actually happened tonight and... just forget it it's not a big deal." He looked down again, jumping slightly as Jason sat next to him with his rescued Haagen Dazs.

"Yeah, I get it." He said as he loaded a spoonful, talking through his mouthful of ice cream. "Dealing with shit on your own is far easier to do rather than admitting that something's wrong. It's the more 'manly' option or some bullshit," He used his spoon to point at his younger brother before making his second point, "but it only works for so long. To be honest kid, neither of us are doing fantastic, not even doing okay at this point, and what happened tonight, well, that's enough to push anyone-" he immediately stopped when he saw tears begin to form in Tim's eyes.

"I... I was okay. Yknow?" Tim began, wiping his eyes with the sweater sleeve. "I was fine, yeah okay I still had my sleeping problems but it was normal, and then this just- I mean, fuck. Damian like actually died for a bit. What's to say he isn't gonna croak for good? I know I fight with him all the time, and I... got really mad when he became robin but... he's just a little kid, this should never have happened... I... all the blood... I..."

"Hey...shh. just breathe." Jason began, trying his best to help. "It's gonna be okay. Dami's been through so much shit already this will be like a scraped knee to that resilient little bastard." He smiled when he that got a small giggle from Tim. "We did a goddamn amazing job. You should be proud dude. He lost a lot of blood and broke a rib or two, got a new hole in his chest, his body's probably just gonna take a few days to rest and recover yknow? If he could come back from that straight away he wouldn't be human, even if he is a little demon at times." He looked at Tim, smiling slightly, "You okay if I give you a hug man?"

Tim nodded, getting off his stool completely to give Jason a hug. Their size difference was definitely hilarious, but it did give room for some of the best hugs on the market. One that was warm, comforting and made you feel safe in all the best ways. When he pulled away from the hug, he managed a smile. "Thanks Jay," he began, getting a head-shake in return as his brother had another spoonful of ice-cream. "You doing okay? I- I know you weren't... obviously you don't have to..." his voice trailed off as he looked away, expecting to have hit a nerve, but he got no such reaction.

"Nah, its about time I talked to someone about it. And hey it's only fair, you told me about yours so..." Jason took a deep breath before he began to unload. "So, you know that clown makes a big deal of bombs around the holidays? Well, he blew Damian up. The worst thing is, it was completely circumstantial for him to be there." He saw the look on Tim's face and began to slow down, taking back the idea of saying anything at all. "I uh... well... I had been having these episodes of being back in the warehouse yknow? A-and I can never move. I can never stop him. Even when I'm just by myself, doing anything, he's always still there, just stood there, laughing at me, goading me... he never fucking leaves me alone. The meds are meant to help but-" He chuckled softly, involuntarily using humour to avoid the seriousness of it. "sometimes it goes from the warehouse, to the apartment... and I'm 12 again... seeing my mom OD. But... yesterday... I was back in the warehouse, and when he smacked me with the crowbar right here" he said, gesturing to the faded scar across his left cheek, " I... I turned into him. And Damian turned into me. No matter how much I wanted to stop, It kept happening and happening." He found himself crying. He looked up at Tim as he wiped his eyes. "Now I think this goes without saying that this stays between us. Bruce can't know, Dickie can't fucking know, Alfie definitely can't know. Alright?" Tim gave a reluctant nod before moving in for another hug. That was too much to take in at once. He was grateful that he was trusted enough to receive such a genuine expression, but judging by what he was told, this really did need the attention of others. He smiled briefly and lifted his mug.

#Jason todd #tim drake #batfamily angst #batfam angst #batfamily #batfam #batbros #red hood

41 notes · View notes

green-spear-of-causality · 4 years

Note

For the OTP Drabbles Ask thing. 21- Proto-Cu and Robin Hood

- And so it begins.

I hope you enjoy, @oddnub!

21. "Jinx, you owe me a coke." *Can't speak until they buy the other a soda*

Proto Cú's Luck was as abysmal as ever.

First, he woke up and fell off the bed. After untangling himself from his blankets, he padded towards Chaldea's mess hall only to accidentally bump into Gilgamesh -- yes, the one from his older self's Grail War. The Gold Archer then proceeded to mock him, pointing out his messy hair (that was hastily put into its ponytail, give him a break it's his day off - ) as well as his clumsy footing while laughing in that condescending way of his. Proto Cú hurried around him to grab a bite to eat, only to slip in the remnants of last night's Food War and fall face-first into a pile of molding cheese. Gilgamesh howled with laughter, and Proto Cú felt his cheeks burn as he stood up and went to the sink to wash his face off.

He didn't think it could get any worse than this.

"Yo."

Proto Cú whipped his head around to see Robin Hood wave to him, the Green Archer situating himself on one of the very few untouched seats. All the others had some form of ketchup, eggs, or relish on them (Nobu knew how to utterly vandalize a place).

"Yo..." Proto Cú sighed out, wiping his face off on a dish towel. Robin's mouth quirked in amusement at seeing the Lancer's miserable face, eyebrow raised in concern.

"You look awful. What happened?"

"Goldie happened."

"Ah." Robin tilted his head towards him in sympathy, and Proto Cú felt a wave of gratitude for the Archer. Ever since they met, they hit it off almost instantly. It was similar to how his and Emiya's friendship worked, actually; the main difference was that he apparently shared a single brain cell with Robin, considering the amount of memes they casually throw at each other.

Another thing they shared was their love of pranks. Proto Cú had waited until he felt that their friendship was on a more secure level to hide Robin's cloak (it...actually smelled pretty nice) underneath Alter's mattress. He did it with permission from the Berserker, of course; he didn't have a death wish. He then got to watch with amusement as Robin sent him a withering glare for the rest of the first day, the May King scurrying around Chaldea and asking numerous Servants if they've seen his cloak. The Archer eventually found it a week later, looking like he fought four lions to get to it and flipping Proto Cú the bird once they saw each other again.

"I won't forget this," He had declared. Proto Cú remembered waving him off, too busy wheezing as he took pictures of Robin for future blackmail to really consider the implications.

And now, he wishes that he had. Proto Cú wasn't an idiot; he'd get his due eventually from him. The questions were when, and how.

Actually... Proto Cú frowned. "What are you doing up this early? You're usually walking around in another hour or so."

"Can't a Servant change their schedule up a bit?" Robin said innocuously, and immediately warning bells were ringing in Proto Cú's head. Robin prided himself on the amount of sleep he got; while Proto Cú rose with the sun, the May King waited until it was nearly all the way up in the sky to even consider moving.

Crimson eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh."

Robin snorted in laughter at his suspicion. "Nevermind that; let's eat some breakfast!"

"Like what?" Proto Cú asked as he grabbed some dish soap and a sponge, wiping down the seat next to Robin and drying it off before sitting down.

Robin looked around, stopping his search as his eyes landed on something. "Well, we'll just ask the Red Archer himself."

Proto Cú followed Robin's line of sight to the dual-wielding Archer, who scrunched his nose up at the sight of the destroyed mess hall. The Lancer lifted his hand and waved to him, calling out. "Yo, Archer! Do you know what's for breakfast?"

"I was going to try my hand at a Western-styled dish," The Counter Guardian began, making his way over to them, "But it seems that it will have to wait until a new shipment arrives. The only thing left should be the leftovers from yesterday..."

The Red Archer stepped into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a plate of dumplings. Robin and Proto Cú stared; they knew that it was enough food to fill one Servant, not two.

Silence. Then,

"Gimme that bitch!"

"You better STOP! STOOOOP!!"

Emiya grunted as the two Servants pushed each other out of the way to reach for the plate, the taller Archer holding it over his head as they jumped for it. They were arguing all the while, and slowly he was developing a headache because of it.

"Let me at least set down the goddamn plate first or so help me I'll - "

He didn't finish. He didn't need to; Robin and Proto Cú stilled, drawing back and looking at him.

They spoke in perfect unison, seeming to sing the two words. "...You're angry."

Emiya blinked. The duo locked eyes with each other, shouting in tandem. "JINX! DOUBLE JINX!"

Robin then kicked Proto Cú's shin hard, making the blue-haired Servant double over in pain. He grabbed the plate of dumplings, Emiya letting him with a sigh as he dropped back into his seat to eat.

Proto Cú could hear the smugness in his voice. "Triple jinx. You owe me a coke."

"Son of a bitch!" Proto Cú cried out, Emiya sending him The Look as Jack and Nursery Rhyme chose that time to enter the mess hall themselves. The Lancer couldn't believe that he fell for it; Robin was known for playing dirty when it was required, and he's seen him do it numerous times to their enemies.

"You know the rules." Robin sing-songed, and Proto Cú gritted his teeth. He then mimed drinking a bottle, favoring his injured shin as he all but ran out of the room.

Emiya turned to Robin, anger forgotten as curiosity took over. "Mind explaining that?"

"He's jinxed." Robin stated matter-of-factly, taking a bite out of another dumpling and humming in content. Emiya didn't even know that he liked cold dumplings. "He can't talk until he gets me a soda. Specifically, Coca-Cola."

An ominous smile stretched across his face. "Little does he know that I've hidden all of the Coca-Cola Chaldea has in the last place he'd ever think to look."

Emiya blanched. He then paled in horror, eyes wide with disbelief. "...You didn't."

Robin cackled. "I did."

"But - That's - "

"Suicide?" Robin poked a dumpling absentmindedly. "Well...he should've thought about that before stealing my cloak and putting it in Alter's room."

"This is an entirely different manner of beast we're discussing here, Robin." Emiya stressed, resting his hands on the (thankfully clean) counter. "You know what she can do, especially considering it's him - "

"He'll be fine." Robin said, a little bit too forcefully, and Emiya could see that he was trying to reassure himself. The May King grimaced, no longer finding the situation as amusing as he had beforehand.

"...He has to be."

--------

Goddamn smug Archer with his goddamn kicks - ! Proto Cú seethed, unable to voice his frustrations out loud as he made his way over to Da Vinci's Workshop. He couldn't believe that he fell for the oldest trick in the book; hell, he should've expected it!

He threw the door open, startling Da Vinci. The genius let out a breath, body sagging in relief.

"Oh, it's just you, Proto...I thought you were Romani for a second. What can I do for you?"

Where can I get some damn Coca-Cola? Proto Cú almost said that out loud, but he remembered Robin's smug look as he jinxed him.

He grimaced. He mimed drinking something, drawing a C in midair before Da Vinci got it.

"Oh, Coca-Cola? So Robin finally got you, didn't he?"

HE PLANNED FOR THIS?! Proto Cú wanted to scream, instead settling for throwing his hands into the air while his face contorted into some form of angered exasperation. I should've known that it was payback for the cloak...

Da Vinci giggled at his antics, looking over her work with a knowing smile. "Sorry, but I don't have any Cola here. You can wait for the new shipment to come in, if you want to; it'll come in...oh, about three months."

THAT'S THREE MONTHS TOO MANY!! Proto Cú silently groaned, burying his face in his hands. Da Vinci hummed.

"Well, try asking Romani. He's the one who keeps an eye on the shipments coming into Chaldea, and also keeps track of inventory. If anyone would know where to find some Cola, it'd be him."

Proto Cú bowed in gratitude, taking off down the hallway towards the Doctor. In his haste he almost ran over Arthur, scaring the Saber.

"Lancer! Why are you in such a rush?"

Proto Cú waved his hands around wildly, mind in disarray. Can't talk gotta go find Roman so he can tell me where the Cola is because for some reason it's gone from Da Vinci's Workshop and this is turning into some Grand Adventure -

Arthur held up a hand, making him pause. "Is this about a bet between you and Robin Hood? If it helps, I heard him in the West Wing a couple of days ago in the dead of night. I was visiting Mordred at the time, and it was late, so I was surprised to see him out and about."

The West Wing. That was where the female Servants resided, and if Robin was there, then -

Oh no. A voice, one that sounded very much like Ozpin when Hazel found him reverberated within his reference-addled mind. Robin had to have hidden the Cola as payback; that much, he was sure of.

If he was in the West Wing, then that left two options: Scáthach, or -

Don't think about the Devil lest she appear.

Proto Cú nodded his thanks, Arthur wishing him luck with a smile and a wave as he took off. He'd go to his mentor's room first; that way, if he had to die at least it'd be an honorable death. He straightened himself as he approached her door, knocking thrice.

The answer was immediate. "Come in."

Proto opened the door. His mentor sat cross-legged on her bed, braiding Fran's hair as a soft tune played in the background. The Berserker hummed along brokenly with it, a smile on her face, and Proto felt as if he was intruding on a serene moment.

Scáthach side-eyed him. "State your business."

Proto Cú inwardly sighed. Was he really prepared to embarrass himself in front of his mentor? ...It was too late to back out, anyhow. He outlined an invisible drink, spelling out C-O-L-A with his hands before stepping back and waiting for a response.

Scáthach paused in her actions, Fran continuing to hum happily. "If this is about that Green Archer, then I don't have anything of value to you. I heard him speak to Medb three days ago, though, in the dead of night."

...

It really was the Worst-Case-Scenario.

Proto Cú nodded his thanks, and turned to go. Scáthach stopped him, her words giving him pause.

"Good luck, my student. You know what you must do."

Aye. He thought miserably, gently closing the door behind him so as to not further disrupt the serenity. He had two options: either wait for the next shipment to come in, or to brave the horrors of Medb's room.

He didn't think he could stay mute for three months.

Robin's lucky that I'm not going to eviscerate him with my spear. Proto Cú manifested it just in case, tip toeing towards the Rider's room. Then again, this whole mess is my fault in the first place. I've learned my lesson.

He sucked in a breath and knocked.

Silence. He waited with bated breath, deciding to knock again. No response. He almost knocked a third time before noticing that the door was unlocked. Just as he was about to open it, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A dust cloud was seen in the distance, seeming to grow larger with each passing second. A high pitched sound made itself known to him, becoming louder as he turned to face it.

...The hell?

He peered closer. It...actually looked like a person was running -

"CÚÚÚÚÚÚÚÚ!!!!!"

Medb.

Oh shit.

RUN!!!

Proto Cú let the fear kick his legs into overdrive, turning tail and running back the way he came. He could hear the Rider's footsteps growing closer; was she..actually catching up to him?

If you stop, you're dead. His mind helpfully supplied, making him almost let loose a string of curses. No matter how many turns he took, she was right there behind him. It was like she had a Cú Detector on hand.

I need to lose her somehow!

He was in the East Wing. Think...Think! His older Lancer counterpart yawned as he stepped out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Perfect.

Proto Cú slapped his fellow Lancer's back as he ran by, diving behind the couch as the other stumbled. "What the - ?"

"YAYYY THERE'S ANOTHER CÚ!!" Medb's voice made the counterpart yelp and start running, leaving Proto Cú alone as he emerged from his hiding spot. He dusted himself off, sending a silent apology to his older self as he ran towards Medb's room.

It was time to end this nightmare.

--------

He'll be fine. He has to be. Robin paced back and forth in one of the break rooms, Emiya watching him out of the corner of his eye with a knowing smirk.

"Worried?"

"Shut up." He retorted, mentally berating himself for not telling Medb to go easy on him. This is the last time I let my anger get the best of me.

The door burst open. Robin's head whipped up to see Cú - not Proto, but the other Lancer version - throw himself into the room and slam the door shut behind him, locking it.

Crimson met steel. "Hide me."

"Pardon?" Emiya asked, confused. Cú gave him no time to respond; the Lancer moved around behind him and peeked over his shoulder, eyes trained on the door. Robin noticed his messy hair, strands sticking this way and that, and figured that the blue-haired Servant just woke up.

"A crazy bitch is after me." Cú whispered, eyes wide yet unmoving. "I don't care what I have to do to make it up to you; just hide me."

Emiya glanced down at him. To Robin's amazement, his face morphed into a strange expression for a split second before going back to its default. "There's a side room tucked away in the back right. Stay in there until I say otherwise."

"You are a lifesaver!" Cú breathed a sigh of relief as he went through the side door, shutting it softly behind him.

Robin stared at Emiya.

"Don't say it."

Robin stared.

"...It was spur of the moment."

Stare.

Emiya flushed in embarrassment. "It's not - "

The doorknob jiggled.

The two Archers zeroed in on it, falling silent as it rumbled more violently. The readied themselves for a battle they'd rather not have, drawing their weapons -

The knob broke as Proto Cú burst into the room, scouring it for .4 seconds before chucking something at Robin. The Green Archer yelped as the offending object hit his head, falling into his lap innocuously and resting there.

"There's your motherfuckin' Cola." Proto Cú said in exhaustion, closing the door behind him and dropping to the ground. Emiya lowered his weapons, letting them dematerialize as he let out a puff of air to relax his suddenly tense muscles.

Robin opened the Cola, taking a sip. "You're alive." He noted.

Proto Cú bristled. "Yeah, no thanks to you! I can't believe you've done this!"

The British accent made Robin chuckle. "I know, I know. Bringing in Medb was a bit much."

"A bit? A BIT?!" As Proto Cú began his (unnecessarily long) rant, Emiya gave the two a small smile. They really did act like an old married couple, didn't they?

All's well ends well, I suppose.

-------- OMAKE! --------

Fsn Cú: ...Is it safe to come out yet?

Fsn Cú: Oi! Guys? Helloooo?

Robin: Just come out of the fucking closet already

Robin: We all know you're gay for Emiya

Fsn Cú, opening the door: Okay, thanks -

Fsn Cú:

Fsn Cú: Wait -

Fsn Cú: WHAT -

32 notes · View notes

fullsunhyuckie · 5 years

Text

lost in osaka(’s beauty)

uber driver!yuta

in which you needed a plus one for a work event and yuta was conveniently there to aid you,,and maybe even more.

a/n: i’ve officially gotten out of my slump (i hope hehehe) so this is pretty long. oh and i swear this fic sounds better than you think. enjoy!

12.19am

if anyone knows you, they’d know how much your work means to you. everything else comes second to your work. your family complains about how you take it too seriously most of the time and that you should consider taking a break. so when the day comes that you finally decide to bring yourself on a vacation, they might as well mark it as a public holiday.

as you were packing for your trip in the two hours you had left before you had to depart, you received a call from your boss. a part of you was glad because maybe you could, in fact, ditch this trip and get back to work. the other part of you was a little disappointed because you did plan the whole trip by yourself.

'' y/l/n, i need you to stand in for me at the Japanese Media Conference in Osaka, the night after tomorrow.'' your boss ordered casually. ''and do bring a plus one. that should suffice. you'll need to prepare a sum of money enough for a pair of outfit for you and your plus one. please be there by 8 and dress nicely. thank you.'' he added only to hang up abruptly.

though you were shocked, you were more frustrated because how in the world are you going to find a boy willing enough to go to a conference all the way in Japan. just as you were about to deliver the news to your parents, you saw them come in with a bag of medication and toiletries with wide smiles on their faces.

so when they asked you, " where's our baby going? you haven't told us yet!", you softly replied to them, "i guess i’m going to japan!" they cheered and your anger washed away. it was one thing to have tiny accomplishments celebrated by yourself, but to see your loved ones do it, they seem ten times more valid. so without complaints, you rushed out the door waving to your parents, with the boarding pass you printed at most 20 minutes ago.

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

5.48 pm.

pacing about door 27, you were frustratingly waiting for your uber that was said to have arrived 5 minutes ago. well, whoever Nakamoto Yuta was, he should have a valid explanation as to why he was late. but in that exact moment, you saw a black sedan car appear in front of you.

the windows of the car were rolled down and you see a man with purple hair greeting you with a rather attractive smile but you had to keep your cool.

"are you miss y/n?" he flashes you the smile once more.

"yes and you're late. i'm rushing for something here." you responded almost simultaneously to which he nodded and rolled up his windows. but before he did it fully, you stopped him.

"aren't you going to help me with my bags? i cant possibly carry it myself.” you gave an exasperated sigh. he chuckled and rolled the windows back up, with no intent of helping you out. 'asshole', you thought. but the truth was that's what yuta thinks too, because he was sure your screen said arriving in 5 mins...but sure he'll let you have it.

you took the seat diagonally behind him and sat quietly for at least 20 full minutes through the ride, occasionally looking at his prettily coloured hair. he was the one to break the silence.

"so your bag isn't that heavy after all?" he mocks you.

"well, isn't it basic courtesy to have a driver help you with your bags?" you heard him huff in an annoyed manner, causing your ride continue its silence until you arrived.

upon arrival, you immediately changed out to your more appealing outfit so that you could head to the pub, in search of a plus one. but the longer you stayed at the pub, you remembered exactly why you’d rather be a workaholic. so you gave up and decided to book an uber back home. too tired to bother, you went into the car that stopped in front of you, hoping that it was the right one.

"must be a tough day for a prissy princess like you, ey?" you hear a familiar voice from the driver's seat. your head shot up and you saw from the rear view mirror, the last face you'd wanna see. "oh piss off, nakamoto."

"call me yuta."

"i'm not in the mood." you replied, before glancing to the front to steal a peek.

if you were being honest, you were really bothered by yuta on the ride home. you began noticing the little details about him. like the shape of his button nose, and how his hair isn't just purple, it's a really pretty ash purple. 'he's okay looking, huh?' you processed. and then it hit you. a decent looking man, who by chance you have been acquainted to, who is also a fluent japanese speaker and ,fortunately, owns a car. a sleek one in fact. and so you made a decision.

as he drove to the front of your hotel, you stayed still in the car with no intent of leaving. he turned around and lifted his eyebrows at your antics. you took a deep breath, thinking 'here goes nothing'.

"i have a proposal to make in which i am expecting you to accept. i need someone...okay looking, especially with a car, to be my partner for a day...or a few." you started. "you dont have to do much. just sit still, look pretty."

"why would i need to help you? i'm working tomorrow. besides-"

"i'll pay you."

"i'm all ears."

" i know you need the money, considering this job," he narrows his eyes at you. "so i'll give $600 for this event you attend and you get to keep the suit." his previously narrowed eyes now widened all the way at your offer. you gestured for him to give his phone. "i need you to pick me up tomorrow by 8am so we can go get your suit and my dress. don't be late.”

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

8.07 am.

of course he's late. even though you were afraid he'll decide not to turn up, you had to remain cool. but exactly 5 minutes later he arrives, in a floral print shirt with light brown bermuda shorts and a pair of slides, hair unkempt. ugly, you thought. but as you thought so, he winks at you and it crossed your mind, well maybe not at all.

"you're seven minutes late. how am i supposed to trust that you'll reach on time tonight?" you complained. he just shrugged and proceeded to lead you into his sedan car.

the both of you headed to the nearest shopping district to run your errands. after a few hours of shopping, your hands were filled with shopping bags yet you still weren’t sure what yuta picked out. he insisted that you should trust his sense and let it be a secret. yuta was leisurely walking with just a bag of items while you were struggling to balance with all the stuff you bought.

"if only someone was gentleman enough to help me carry my stuff especially since this man beside me, isn't one." you said it a little too loudly in hopes that it'll embarrass him.

yuta laughed it off, completely unphased by your actions. so you continued walking at a fast pace until you heard him jog towards you and felt his hand brushed against yours, causing you to pause. he somehow managed to maneuver the shopping bags so that it would rest on your interlocked hands, so it looked as if the both of you were carrying the bags together. he brushed his thumb against your fingers, which made your heart do a thing. he gave a smug look and you let go, leaving him to carry it instead.

you got in the car, avoiding any form of conversation with yuta, but on the way back, he kept stealing glances at every stop he took. his actions made you nervous, which wasn't super abnormal as you're never usually affected .

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

7.48pm.

you could tell it was him by the way he knocks on the door. you opened the door slowly and-

holy freaking grail.

he was stunning. oh so beautiful. you were in awe. he wasn't lying about his sense of fashion. maroon velvet suit with black innerwear which complements your black seude midi dress. his hair parted just enough to showcase his glowing forehead. earrings, 3 on one side and 2 on the other, contrasting his well-groomed look with a little bit of rebel. how intelligent.

"aren't you gonna let me in or are you not done ogling me?"

"n-no let's just uh- let's leave now. we're..ahem.. we can just be early..." you stuttered, pushing him out.

you arrived at your destination 20 minutes later and was astounded by the beauty of it. you turned to your left to look at osaka’s skyline, what a beauty. you turned right to look at yuta and you started to wonder, maybe everything in Japan is stunning. yuta offered you his arm and you slid into it like it was made just for you.

the whole conference was pretty boring but you had to keep yourself awake for your boss's sake. it wasn't until the dinner when you actually had a lot of fun. although yuta wasn't exactly a gentleman that night, you could tell he was trying. like when he took his food, it was a portion just enough for two. or when he pulled the chair out from the table intending to sit there but acting as if it wasn't a good enough spot so he offered you instead. you appreciated the subtlety more than you expected.

you noticed the speaker from earlier approaching your table and you stiffened.

"you know if you keep doing that, the whole hall will be able to tell that i'm a stranger to you." yuta whispered.

before you could answer him, you felt his hand rest on the crook of your back. he knew you were nervous so when you felt him caress your back gently, you appreciated it. he left as you were speaking to your boss’s clients, taking down notes for his future plans. the night wasn’t that bad, here and there you heard whispers about how gorgeous your boyfriend looked unlike you, but thats about it. after your exchange session, you searched high and low for yuta, silently hoping he wasn’t somewhere trying to hook up with some woman 10x richer or better looking than you are.

after searching for a good 15 minutes, you saw him near the fountain talking to someone. although you felt obligated to get annoyed, as your plus one, you felt warm. he looked way too engaged telling a story to a 7 year old girl. he turned to see you staring at him. he waved at you, at the same time getting the little girl to do the same. she didn’t seem too keen to do so.

“i think we can leave now. we need to prepare for tomorrow’s event.” you said, grabbing a hold of yuta’s elbow.

the little girl tugged at yuta’s sleeves and she whispers, “i don’t like her very much. mr nakamoto, can you continue the story?” to which you frowned and rolled your eyes, unintentionally. your actions caught yuta off guard and he burst out laughing at your child-like behaviour. or cute behaviour but yuta wont admit it

“i’m sorry, princess, but my grandmother here has forced me to leave with her or i won’t be able to return home for tonight. i’ll see you around!” the little girl chuckles and wave at yuta, not before giving you a glare.

“i hate kids.”

“are you jealous because a seven year old has more game with me than you do?”

“don’t flatter yourself, nakamoto.”

“count yourself lucky that i think you’re cute.”

well yeah, that stuck on your mind the whole night.

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

9.36am

who in the right mind would have a formal event at 9 in the morning? there you were half awake, engaging with 10 people at one go, when its barely noon while yuta was at the back treating himself with the pancakes served. he was dressed formally as if he was supposed to attend a Sunday morning tennis match, when everyone else was in a polo tee and jeans. you’re sure he bought that outfit just so he could use it for another day, knowing he was able to keep it.

on that particular morning, you met johnny, the son of the CEO of a well-known entertainment company in Chicago. he’s tall, lean, very attractive, funny and the list goes on. if you weren’t married to your career, you’d so be into him. but you want to know who isn’t? nakamoto yuta. the moment he heard you burst a giggle instead of a laugh, he lifted his previously buried-in-pancakes face to scan across the crowd, seeing you with johnny.

he almost immediately threw away his half-eaten pancake and strut his way towards you but before he could do anything to get at johnny, you and johnny part ways much to yuta’s relief. throughout the whole event, you could feel his eyes on you, unconsciously looking out for any competition. it was funny though because when you try to look back he’d act as if he’s much rather be somewhere else. what a fool.

the event took up more than half of your afternoon so when you returned from it you were dead tired. yuta sent you to the door but seeing how GONE you were he needed to make sure you were fully awake while cleaning yourself. you took more than an hour as he waited on the sofa, he did sleep though. you sat beside him and watched him peacefully. his hair covering both his eyes, you were so tempted to touch it. purple never looked so good on a man. despite hesitating, you brushed his hair behind his ears, causing him to rest deeper into your palm. a soft smile crept up your lips as he did so.

“you should smile like that more often when you look at me. my heart does things when you do that.” he says with his eyes closed.

stunned, you pulled your hand away, forcing him to scram. he left with a smile on his face, satisfied with how flustered you were.

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

7.49pm

“what do you mean you cant make it? it’s the last event. i need you to be there with me-“

“i need to run some errands. i’ll try my best and make it in time.” yuta replies.

you weren’t gonna lie but a huge part of you grew dependent on him so when you were forced to attend it alone, it felt foreign.

and indeed it was. the entire time you were there, you started missing him. when things got awkward you realised there was no one to turn to. or when the speaker said something unfunny, you’d laugh, thinking about what yuta would say in response. it was as if the entire night revolved around him and you hated it because you only realised his importance when he wasn’t around.

as you were eating, you felt someone approach you, deeply hoping it was yuta. but as you turned, you saw johnny. he was dressed in a sleek black suit with a bow tie. what a heartthrob.

“where’s your lover boy?”

“he’s busy running some errands. such a momma’s boy.” you said while unintentionally sulking.

understanding that you were bored at the event, johnny decided to accompany you. for a moment you forgot about yuta and you were thankful for that. but as you were intending to grab a quick bite with johnny, you heard johnny saying something and before you could ask him to repeat, you peeked behind his tall figure to see a good looking japanese man looking at you. seeing that you were comfortable with johnny, he approached you and gave you a kiss on your cheek, lingering longer than expected. to say your heart skipped a beat would be an understatement. it was as if it your heart entirely stopped and then you were resurrected by the touch of his lips.

“you smell...nice. i’m sorry i’m late.” he pulled away and wrapped his pinky around yours. “oh, johnny! didnt see you there. if you dont mind, y/n and i have somewhere to be.” and then he led you away.

“why didn’t you call me?”

“surprise, isn’t it? i was intending not to come but i knew someone would want to hit on you.” he replied casually, pinky still wrapped around yours. “let’s get out of here while we can.”

as the two of you walked out, he put on a jacket, that smelt like him, on you. you gave him a look of bewilderment.

“yuta, it’s 30 degrees. i dont need your jacket.”

“just take it. this is in case i need an excuse to see your face again in the future.” you heartily laughed at him.

you would think he brought you to somewhere romantic, as you ran away from a formal event. instead he took you to a nearby fast food restaurant, claiming that that was the essence of a japanese trip. as he indulged himself in the cheeseburger, you felt a pang in your chest remembering how your journey with him had to end in a few hours. it was as if he could sense that you felt down. so being yuta, he tried turning the atmosphere around.

“this cheeseburger would taste wayyy better if someone wasn’t staring daggers onto the top of my pretty head.”

it didnt work, in case you’re guessing. it just made you feel worse because, damn you’re gonna miss this idiot. so in response, you shoved your milkshake away and groaned, so loudly it’s possible that the whole diner went silent because of you.

you peeked up and you saw him staring down at you with an eyebrow raised. you were so close to risking it all and confessing your feelings towards him but your ego wouldn’t let you do so. instead, you calmed your face and pretended as if nothing happened. it’s hard to do so especially when you saw how comfortable your legs intertwined under the table. even your sub-conscience wanted the both of you close.

the whole night was a blur. you remember subtle hand touching and embracing from both parties but nothing major happened. to be honest, you were beyond grateful. just a few more seconds before the coast was clear. you waved your goodbye to him. you tried to shut the door before you did anything stupid. but...you were too late.

“seriously? our last night together and that’s how you end it? do you have no heart or-“

“i’m sorry excuse me?”

“i think i was being pretty obvious with how i feel about you. i wouldnt have let you hold my hand for a prolonged period if i didnt like you, dont you think? if you expect me to give you a heartwarming confession, about how i’d love to spend more time with you and how i wouldnt mind if you’d like to date me, then you thought wrong.” you said in one breath.

“...”

“an ‘i like you too’ would help me not feel like an idiot.”

“urm, look, there’s a lot of things that i do like about you but i just dont think i can respond to your confession right now. i’m so sorry.” yuta replied softly.

and he left. this time he wasn’t late to leave.

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

1.27pm

you still felt like an idiot. the moment you woke up, as you ate your breakfast, when you packed your luggage, the whole time you felt like one. and you couldnt blame anyone but yourself. when you looked around, it was as if japan was stripped off its beauty, now that the one thing you associate that with is no longer within your reach.

even as you were on the way to the airport, you felt like a complete fool. when you arrived in japan and got your uber, the first thing you saw when you lifted your head was a pretty shade of purple. your uber back to the airport had a view that was an awful scene of badly dyed hair. how in the world were you going to forget the fact that you ever met nakamoto yuta?

as you arrived at the airport, you were so reluctant to leave. every step you took felt like there was an anchor weighing you down. of course, you were being dramatic because all you did was give him a confession. but believe me, because its someone with an ego like yours, it’s the end of the world.

you were waiting for the lift when a man with blonde hair grabbed your luggage from your hands. and he began saying something incomprehensible. so you let out a loud ‘hmm?’.

“i need to return some of your things and take back what’s mine.” you hear a familiar voice. you didnt want to believe it but the minute you turned your head, there he was. nakamoto yuta. but being you, the first thing you responded was, “why are you blonde?”

he groaned and pulled you to the side before you could say anything else. instead of responding he returned the suit that you gave him, as well as the sportswear and even his headband. he took out his wallet to return you the money you paid him for the events. he rummaged through his bag to ensure he returned everything you gave him and then he paused, as if trying to process whether he was going to do it and he gave the look of surrender. he opened up your suitcase to take back his jacket and a part of you broke. you felt as if he didnt want to see you again.

but before you could even begin to feel sad, you saw him crouch in front of you, hands on your back and your calves. suddenly, you were lifted. you hit yuta’s chest and he calmly responded.

“i told you i’m taking back what’s mine.”

“did you suddenly watch a rom-com last night and decide that this is the best way to win back my heart? because it’s not working.” you sulked but he gave you an innocent look. you finally understood what being wrapped around someone’s finger felt like.

as you were nearing the exit, he put you down and held you with one hand, the other on the suitcase as he led you to his familiar car.

“i have a proposal to make in which i am expecting you to accept. i need someone...okay looking, who doesn’t need to have a car, to be my partner to introduce to my family.” yuta mocked. "you dont have to do much. just sit still, look pretty, so you might want to try a little.” then he looked at you and gave you his biggest smile as he mouthed “i’m sorry. please be my girlfriend.” there was no way you were able to say no.

and so he drove into the city of osaka, and you looked around only to realise, japan had never been stripped off its beauty. all that you saw was filtered by yuta, causing it to look ten times as beautiful. but thats the beauty of getting to know yuta because now life has never been more full of colour.

fin.

#nct scenarios #nct au #nct imagine #yuta scenarios #nct angst #nct fluff #nct 2019 #nct 127 #nct #yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct fic #yuta fic #ahhh i'm back!!#please give me love and enjoy this #i'll be back with more #thank you loves

148 notes · View notes

kumeko · 4 years

Photo

A/N: For the @bnhaxmcu-zine! I think Peter and Deku would be great friends and a dual combo of these two number one fans would even overwhelm Cap. XD

Summary: When Izuku heard they were going to the Avenger’s Headquarters, he had hoped to maybe see one of All Might’s uniforms from his time there. What he didn’t expect was a team up with Spiderman and Captain America of all people. Maybe he can get an autograph after?

...

“This is really happening, right?” Izuku yelped as a sword flew over his head, embedding itself into the wall. Looking up, he recognized the hilt as one of Lady Sif’s swords. The blade was almost entirely buried in the plasture, a testament to how sharp the sword was or hard it was thrown. Either way, he swallowed as he touched his neck.

“That was a close one!” Spiderman chuckled nervously, bouncing from wall to wall as even more memorabilia flew past them. With a sickening crack, Iron Man’s gloves hit the bulletproof windows and shattered. He groaned. “Come on! That’s a collectible!”

A room full of rows upon rows of old Avenger gear had seemed like a great idea a few hours ago, when Izuku could spazz and fawn over them. It looked less great now, with a supervillain tossing everything he could get his hands on.

Worst. Fieldtrip. Ever.

-x-

“This is the main hallway,” a hologram of a primly dressed man droned as class 1-A walked through the halls of the Avengers’ Headquarters.

The Avengers headquarters. Izuku had to repeat that to himself several times and even then it didn’t feel real. You can’t become a proper hero without going to the center of it all, New York. Home of the Fantastic Four, Avengers, Captain America, and almost every other American hero. With no world-ending fight in sight, their class had been given special permission to enter this monument to heroism.

Which was so cool! Even Kacchan was watching everything with rapt attention; it was a childhood dream come true. Granted, in that dream they were Avengers, but baby steps. They were in the building. Izuku was never going to wash his hands or shoes again.

He practically bounced as they walked down a long hallway, glimpsing Avengers through the windows and in different rooms. A metal claw glinted in a glass box to his right and he made a beeline to it. Was that one of Wolverine’s claws? How did they even remove it? Nearby were Hawkeye’s arrows and Antman’s old suit and Izuku tried not to scream as he dashed from one glass case to another. Maybe he could find All Might’s old Avengers’ uniform. If he was lucky, he could even touch it. Silently, he prayed that their headquarters wouldn’t get destroyed by yet another villain attack, it would be a crime against humanity to lose all these things. Like Iron Man’s original glove or Scarlet Witch’s—

Izuku froze. In front of him was the holy grail of all memorabilia.

“Captain America’s first shield!”

That voice was definitely not his own, even if its heavy breathing and oh my gods echoed his thoughts. Turning to his side, he spotted another boy his age, maybe a little older, with shaggy brown hair and an excited smile . Noticing him, the boy covered his mouth in embarrassment, his neck flushed red. “H-hi.”

Feeling a little awkward and shy, Izuku nodded. “Hi.”

What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? Bow? Shake hands? Relief washed over him when the other boy rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s just…this is…”

“Captain America’s first shield?” Izuku finished, turning back to look at the triangular shield. “Before he kept the round design the President gave him?”

“It’s even made with a different material.” The boy’s eyes lit up and Izuku could barely suppress a grin himself. No one he knew was interested in these tidbits. Extending his right hand, the boy introduced himself. “I’m Peter Parker, you?”

The handshake. Right. Hoping his palms weren’t sweaty, he quickly shook hands. Two was the right number of shakes, right? “I’m Midoriya Izuku…I mean, Izuku Midoriya.”

“Nice to meet ya.” Peter smiled brightly and turned back to the shield. “I didn’t think it’d be here. On display!”

Suddenly, Izuku was grateful for Momo’s impromptu English class before they came here. Rocking on his feet, he resisted the urge to press his face against the glass. “Think they have his other ones?”

Peter looked like he’d have a heart attack right then and there. His eyes darted around wildly. “It’s a big room.”

“It is.” Izuku shared a smile with Peter before they both started to meander through the room. “Did you see anything from All Might?”

“All Might?” Peter tapped his chin before shaking his head. “Nope. He’s your favourite?”

Izuku gave a shy nod. “He’s my teacher.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! Are you serious? You’re soooo lucky! My teachers are really ordinary and normal and All Might? Like, he could give Captain America a run for his money. Almost.”

Izuku resisted the urge to debate the ‘almost’. “He’s here with my class.” Turning around to gesture at his mentor, he suddenly realized that he was alone. Which meant he’d wandered off. Swallowing hard, he turned to Peter. “I don’t think this is part of the tour.”

It appeared his friend just realized it too. With an equally nervous grin, Peter ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t think they’ll throw us out?”

“Probably not, right?” Izuku laughed, a stilted thing. “I mean, there wasn’t a ‘do not enter’ sign?”

“Nope.” Peter shook his head quickly, as though to convince himself.

Crash! Something rolled through one of the doors, breaking several cases before finally coming to a stop in the center of the room. Stiffly, Izuku turned his head toward it. “Is that security?”

“Hope not.” Peter squinted, staring as a man slowly got up from the wreckage. “Wait, is that Armadillo?”

“Armadillo?” Izuku gaped as the intruder revealed himself. Towering over them was an armoured man, looking more like an animal than a human. Orange metal plates covered every inch of his skin and a tail protruded from his back. Sharp claws were arranged at the ends of his hands and feet and even his mask resembled that of his namesake animal. “He’s still around?”

“You know who he is?” Peter’s jaw dropped. “He’s a C-lister, so most people forget he exists.”

Izuku rubbed his nose, proud. “To be fair, he was first a B-lister, but then—”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Armadillo growled. With a swipe he broke the glass case next to him.

Oh. Right. Izuku’s mouth dried, his palms sweaty. Whatever rank, he was still a villain. A villain blocking the closest exit and Izuku wasn’t sure if he could make it to a different one without getting caught.

“Two kids?” Armadillo smiled darkly. “This’ll be easy.”

“How is he here?” Izuku muttered. The why was obvious—this room had old tech, magic, and other gear that could easily be used for evil or a quick buck. “We’re in the Avengers headquarters.”

“Later! Go get help,” Peter urged, shoving Izuku out of the way as Armadillo charged at them, rolling into a ball as he gained speed. “He isn’t supposed to do that, right?”

“Definitely not.” Izuku looked around for something heavy to throw. The only option was one of the glass cases and with a grimace, he picked it up and hurled it at the villain. There went one of Hulk’s infamous pairs of purple shorts. “I’m training to be a hero—you get help, I’ll delay.”

Peter frowned, looking ready to argue, when Armadillo let out an irritated roar. Gritting his teeth, he nodded. “Just don’t get hurt!”

“I’ll try not to.” Izuku looked back at the gigantic man and clenched his fist.

There was no backing down now. Armadillo charged at him, swiping with his claws. Narrowly dodging the attack, Izuku added strength to his legs before he kicked.

It was the only reason his legs didn’t break when he hit the metal armour. He’d tried to hold back, to prevent damage to the building, but the thick armour on Armadillo wouldn’t crack to anything less than his best. As he recoiled, Armadillo reached out to grab him.

“Not so fast!” Thin, silver spiderwebs shot through the air, holding back Armadillo long enough for Izuku to roll away. Above them, Spiderman hung from the ceiling. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping in.”

“No problem.” Izuku pushed down the fan in him—he got to see Spiderman too?—and focused instead on the enemy. The already-free-enemy, his claws cutting through the webbing like it was paper. While he didn’t doubt his own strength, Izuku also knew it wasn’t consistent or fast enough to be used in battle like this. Especially against a seasoned pro. “Any ideas?”

“Do I ever have any?” Spiderman suddenly dropped from the ceiling as a metal bar was tossed at him. “Woah! That could have killed me!”

“That’s the idea.” Armadillo grinned and suddenly the most intense game of dodge-ball started.

-x-

Izuku hoped Peter found someone. Glancing at the damage Armadillo had already inflicted, he held back a wince at all the ruined relics around him. Not that he could have saved them; as it was, he could barely stay on his feet.

At least he wasn’t alone in this fight, for whatever good that did. Nearby, Spiderman leaped over a case as he dodged Armadillo’s swipes. Another glass cage shattered from the brunt of the attacks. This was only slightly better than Armadilo’s ball attacks, which felt almost unstoppable. Maybe if they had glue or a net or--

“Hey,” Izuku panted, watching their foe’s movements waryily. “Could you make a big web?”

“I’m Spiderman, not Spider.” Spiderman bounced from one end of the room to the other with speed that would make Tsuyu jealous. “He’ll just cut through it.”

“Not if you flip him on his back like a turtle,” Izuku muttered in a low voice, hoping Armadillo couldn’t hear him. “I’ll push him in.”

“Oh!” Spiderman’s eyes widened. “Got it. Buy me a minute!”

“I’ll try.” With a silent prayer for forgiveness, Izuku grabbed Captain America’s old shield. Even if it wasn’t adamantium, it was still fairly strong, and Izuku needed something that wouldn’t break under the pressure of his attack.

“Oh? Playing hero?” Armadillo sneered, not catching onto their trap. Charging once more at Izuku, he rolled into a ball again. Not catching onto their trap, Armadillo spun into a ball again.

“Not playing!” Izuku snapped back as he dodged Armadillo’s attack. He didn’t have Spiderman’s wit and whatever snazzy line he thought of fell flat when he said it aloud. From the corner of his eye, he saw a thumbs up.

It was time. Quickly, Izuku charged back at Armadillo. He raised the shield in front of him. Like a pinball, Armadillo bounced off the shield and into Spiderman’s waiting web. Izuku heard a soft crack and silently prayed he hadn’t broken the shield.

“Another web?” Armadillo laughed as his back hit the sticky strands. Glued tight to the sticky threads, he struggled to pull himself free and his laughter died down as he realized that he was stuck.

“Stronger than you thought, huh?” Spiderman chortled, landing in front of his captive.

“You’ll see strong,” grunted Armadillo. His muscles strained as he slowly pulled himself up. Slowly, web strands snapped one by one as he rose. Izuku could only watch in horror as Armadillo’s muscles strained and with a final roar, he broke free.

“He broke free…” Spiderman just stared as Armadillo rose in front of him, shocked. “How?”

Armadillo swiped, his metal claws slicing through the air to reach Spiderman.

“Spiderman!” Izuku yelled but his warning was too late.

A loud clang sounded through the room as Captain America suddenly stood between them. “Sorry for the trouble. Let me take care of the rest.”

Izuku watched in amazement as Captain America only took seconds to slam Armadillo against the wall hard enough to knock him out. Holy shit. The Captain America had saved them. “Wow!”

Turning around with a broad smile, Captain America asked, “You two okay?

“Y-yes.” Izuku quickly approached him and held out a hand. “I-it’s nice to meet you, you’re amazing and wow. Wow.”

Captain America stared at the hand in surprise before smiling and shaking it. “You did well despite the danger.” He pointed at the shield still in Izuku’s hand. “Nice to see it come in handy again after all these years.”

Izuku almost dropped it. He was touching the shield and touching Captain America and he was never taking a bath again. Ever. While he was still speechless, Spiderman gestured at Armadillo excitedly. “That was so cool!”

Captain America laughed. “No, it wasn’t that—”

Finding his voice again, Izuku eagerly nodded. “You just came in and hit him just once and how strong are you? How did you do that?”

“And the timing!” Spiderman was vibrating now as though he was going to drill through the earth. “A second later and I’d be a pancake.”

“Where did you come from?” Izuku glanced at the door. “I didn’t hear or see anything!”

Captain America turned redder and redder with each word. “I…it was nothing, you two—”

“Nothing?” They stared at him, completely in sync. “You call that nothing?”

“…right.” Captain America gave an uneasy smile, cutting in before they could go back to their questions. “How about we sit down and we can talk all about it?”

Oh man, this was a dream come true. Izuku pulled out his notebook; even more than an autograph (which he was totally going to get), a Q&A with Captain America?

Best. Fieldtrip. Ever.

#captain america #izuku midoriya #bnha #spiderman #peter parker #steve rogers #fanfic

9 notes · View notes

imaginepirates · 5 years

Text

Drunken Confessions

A Jack x Reader where the reader gets drunk and says some things they really shouldn't. Jack avoids them for a while before they confront him about it. This one's a bit on the short side, sorry. I've been feeling awful lately.

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @claireshepard67

~2600 words

~~~~~~~

The sand had just cooled off. Earlier in the day, it might have burned your skin, but it was cold under the night sky. It was churned up by dancing feet, and your toes sunk into it. You'd taken off your boots as to air out your feet and remember the feeling of land beneath them.

Jack had 'important business' to attend to on land. As part of his crew, you followed him from place to place, going on wild adventures anyone would dream of telling their grandchildren. However, typical business was obtaining rum.

You loved sailing on the Black Pearl. She was a beauty, and the crew was the oddest assortment of people you'd ever met. Unfortunately, your adventures rarely yielded treasure. But, as Jack said, treasure wasn't always silver and gold. For you, it was the relationships created along the way.

Presently, you were dancing in the sand with a good portion of the crew. You were still, for the most part, sober, but you planned on remedying that. Sea shanties were sung at the tops of people's lungs. It sounded awful, really, but you were having fun.

Jack stood to one side of the revelry, staring down into what you speculated was an empty bottle. He was pouting; it was an attractive habit of his.

You skipped over to him. "Rum's gone already?" You asked. Your feet were getting a little crossed under you, but you managed to keep your balance.

He hummed. You took it as a yes.

"You should come out here," you said. "Sing. Dance. It'll be good for you."

He eyed you, one eyebrow traveling up his face. "Can't get too distracted." He burped. Obviously, he was rather tipsy himself. Or full-blown drunk, but you could never tell with him. "Someone's got to watch me ship."

You doubted he was watching the Pearl any more than the rest of you were, but you let it go. Another song started up, and you joined back in with everyone else.

Your bottle was empty, and you were handed another. Every ounce of wit in you had disappeared. You hardly knew if your limbs were moving anymore. You supposed they were; you would notice people passing you if you weren't. Most of your surroundings were a blur, though. You could hardly tell where the treeline was.

Your mouth was moving, and though you were singing, you really couldn't say what.

An arm threw itself around your waist. You weren't sure you liked it, but you weren't enough in your senses to push it away. Your legs were starting to give way beneath you, and if weren't for the arm, you might have pitched into the sand.

If only you'd seen the stares. Hungry gazes turned toward you. Hot breath tickled the back of your neck. Looking up at the face beside you, you noticed it wasn't someone you recognized. Others must've joined the festivities. You might not have minded if the man wasn't so close.

~~~

It was exactly the kind of thing Jack didn't tolerate. Someone slinging their arm around his woman. Well, not really his. Not yet. But he wasn't about to let anyone else have a chance.

His brain was foggy, but not so much as everyone else's. He'd built up such a tolerance to drink that a glass; or two, or seven; didn't do all that much. Really, it made him feel tired. And it made him slur his speech, but his thinking was as clear as mud.

He sidled over to you, unwrapping the arm around you. He pushed the man away, leaving him to stagger in the sand.

You promptly collapsed. He hadn't expected that. When you didn't move to stand, he picked you up by your arms. Your eyes were still mostly open, and he set you on your feet. One arm around you for support, he started heading back towards the Pearl. A night of sleep would do you good, he felt.

It might have been the rum, or it might have been the way the entire side of your body was pressed against his, but Jack felt heat climb to his face. He hadn't experienced that before.

You were mumbling incoherently to yourself. Jack wasn't listening much, intent on getting you away from stating eyes as quickly as possible.

You staggered alongside him. Jack contemplated picking you up, then realized that he'd dropped his empty bottle in the sand somewhere. Carrying you would be of no use if he dropped you. Besides, he didn't need anyone seeing such a thing. Rumors spread around a ship quickly.

Which was why, even when escorting you to your rooms, he was worried. A nagging feeling at the back of his head told him that someone was bound to say he was taking you to bed. It shouldn't have bothered him; captains were accused of such things all the time. In most cases, they were respected more for it.

For some reason, he didn't like the thought of being accused of sleeping with you. He didn't like the idea of being with someone without their consent. Especially not you.

There were many days when the crew found themselves unhappily lost at sea. Lost, perhaps, wasn't the word, but they were definitely without a heading. This had to do with Jack's compass, his alcohol consumption, and the feelings he denied having.

He turned back to you, hearing your voice.

"Then, we went back to him," you burped, "and said- and said 'here's your bloody statue, now where's the grail?'"

It took Jack a moment to understand you were talking about him. More specifically, your adventures with him. That one had been particularly fine. You returned a statue of the Virgin Mary to a priest in exchange for the Holy Grail. In return, you were given a silver chalice that wasn't even made of real silver.

For the record, you had returned the statue covered in bread batter, feathers, and flecks of coal.

"Or the time those Aztecs- hic- tried to sacrifice me to the gods." You babbled on, oblivious to the world around you, including the one under your feet. You nearly fell flat on your face, dragging Jack with you, but he managed to steady you both.

Jack hated that story. They had been Mayans, not Aztecs, but the difference was trivial. Although, Jack reflected, the Mayans didn't have cursed gold. What they did have was an affinity for unnecessary sacrifice. He hadn't taken kindly to their tendencies, especially when they put you in harm's way.

"You really saved me on that one." Your voice was growing fainter, as if you were slipping out of your body. Jack suspected you were, or at least you felt that way. Enough drinking and you could convince yourself that you didn't exist.

He tensed. Of all the things for you to say, he hadn't expected that. Oh sure, maybe recounting more adventures, but being sentimental was never on your agenda. Or it hadn't been, until now. Jack hated how drawn he was, how much he wanted to hear more.

"You took me back to the- hic- ship. And you told me you weren't going to let me set foot off it again until I…" your eyes glazed over, looking for the rest of the sentence in thin air. "Until I could keep myself out of trouble. You made me stay in bed. Your bed. Because it's the only real bed onboard." Yawning, you slumped harder against Jack's side. You were almost on deck. "You're my favorite pirate. If only we'd done something as more than captain and crew."

It was a whisper, not exactly meant for Jack's ears. He heard it all the same.

A feeling spread throughout his body. It wasn't a good feeling, if he was being honest, but it wasn't a bad feeling, either. It was a confusing feeling, and he didn't like it.

Jack hated feeling confused. It was why he had the compass. When in doubt, which he never was, his opinion was the right answer. But whatever he was feeling, he couldn't identify.

In truth, it made him a bit panicky. Hastily, he walked you to your hammock. He picked you up haphazardly and set you in it, relieved he hadn't dropped you.

He tried not to contemplate all meanings of 'as more than captain and crew'.

You were drunk. He was drunk- well, drunkish. There was a good chance you didn't know what you were saying.

Part of him was afraid you did.

~~~

You awoke, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Your hammock nearly dumped you on the floor at the first sign of movement. You were so tangled up in it, you hadn't the slightest idea how to get out.

After many minutes of awkward maneuvering, you put yourself on your feet. It was then that you noticed the slight throbbing behind your eyes. You wondered how drunk you'd been.

You didn't remember coming back to bed. In fact, you didn't remember anything beyond the slightly uncomfortable weight of a stranger's arm around your shoulders. A certain fear gripped you, but you reasoned that if you were back in your hammock, nothing bad could've happened to you.

Your plan of action was to eat and fall back asleep. The Pearl didn't leave for another day, and you thought it best to spend it nursing your hangover.

The deck was scattered with both the sleeping and the conscious. You were in better control of your body than most of them, but your tiredness made your feet feel like lead.

The mess hall was empty. The door to the kitchens hung ajar, but nobody was inside. You helped yourself to bread. Fresh bread, not hardtack; one could buy more than rum at port. The only other edible thing about was a can of sardines. You groaned. It looked like you'd have to go hunting for food after all.

It hadn't taken long to find a vendor selling fresh fruit. When you got back to the ship, more people were up and about. Most of them were out talking in the sun, playing friendly rounds of cards. Someone had started a game of liar's dice, though there was no betting involved.

You still held two peaches. Upon spotting Jack, you moved to offer him one. He stood to one side of the stairs. As you moved towards him, he moved away. You weren't sure if he'd seen you, but he disappeared below decks before you could call out to him.

Things continued much the same way for the next few days. That was to say, Jack avoided you. You knew this because there were numerous times when he made eye contact with you before quickly leaving the scene. It was starting to get on your nerves. You hadn't done anything that should prompt such behavior.

That was, said a little voice in your head, unless you'd done something when you were drunk.

You didn't like to think about it. You'd been drunk before without having done anything stupid. On multiple occasions, in fact. Besides, Jack hadn't been anywhere near you the entire night. He'd been off to the side, 'minding the ship'.

You were about ready to storm up to him and demand to know what was going on in that jumbled brain of his. If only you could get close enough to do so.

The truth was, you valued your time with Jack. You liked him as a friend, though you wouldn't mind being more. He was fun; 'fun' here meaning a tad on the crazy side. But it made him worth knowing. The last thing you wanted to do was to lose that.

Faking confidence, you knocked on his cabin's door. There were a million sentences running through your mind. Where to begin, you didn't know.

The door was flung open. You hadn't expected him to open it, if you were to be honest. You took your chance, slipping in through the doors before he could close them again, shutting them behind you.

A rather affronted look sat on his face. It wasn't that he truly felt it, you knew.

"What's this all about? You've been avoiding me like the plague! What did I ever do? I don't see why I deserve such treatment, especially from you." It felt good to get things out. You hadn't even given him a chance to ask why you were there.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack croaked. He'd already been drinking, you saw. He turned swiftly away from you, pretending to busy himself with something on his desk.

"You're an awful liar." You crossed your arms, unimpressed. "Explain. You owe me that much, at least."

He turned to you, advancing until he was nearly on top of you. "Am I your favorite pirate?" He retreated. "You seemed to think so last time we talked."

"As I recall, the last time we spoke, you were refusing to have fun."

He wiggled his fingers around. "That's what you think." He continued speaking to his fingers. "In fact, there are many, many things you don't remember saying to me." Here, he turned to you, smiling wickedly.

You felt your face turn a deep shade of red. "What-what do you mean?"

Jack shrugged.

"What did I say?" You were scared of the answer.

He leaned in, right next to your ear. "Do you really want to know, love?"

You nearly squeaked. He was very close, and his smirk did nothing for your nerves. Then, you thought of what he might say next, which was quite sobering. Instead of answering, you asked, "Did you mind? What I said?"

"I did not."

"Oh, good." You were relieved, but Jack was still very close. He pouted. Clearly, he'd been expecting you to say something else. "What did I say?" You asked, throat dry.

Jack pulled away. "Something about doing things together."

You could only imagine what that entailed. Hit by a wave of mortification, you spluttered.

"I don't know what all that included." He flopped his hands about. "Unless you'd like to show me," he said, suddenly more serious.

For perhaps the first time in your life, you found yourself at a loss for words. "What do you want me to do?" It came out as a whisper.

Jack softened. "Only what you're comfortable with, love."

You stepped forward and placed your hands on his chest. Slowly, you tilted your head up, leaning in. You stopped yourself just before his lips, staring. "Are you sure?" You asked.

Jack hummed. Then, softly, he kissed you. It wasn't what you had imagined kissing him to be like at all. A hand tilted your chin higher, fingers tickling your neck.

"You've no idea how long I've been waiting to do that," Jack breathed.

If it had been anything close to how long you had, you knew his feeling all too well.

When he pulled back, you missed his closeness. "Can we agree," he began, "that this arrangement will continue?"

You nodded. It was exhilarating, when you thought about it. He wanted you! "I think I could make it work," you teased.

"Good." He grabbed two glasses and a bottle. "Maybe my damn compass will work now," he mumbled. You hadn't the slightest idea what he meant.

He turned back to you, advancing with two now-full glasses of brandy. "Can I persuade you? If I get you drunk enough, it might trigger… other memories of things you want to do to me."

You didn't need the brandy, but like hell if you'd tell him that.

#pirates of the caribbean #potc #pirates #pirate #jack sparrow #captain jack sparrow #x reader #drabble #request #writing #fanfic #jack sparrow x reader

283 notes · View notes