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zabiume · 3 years

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So, I noticed there aren’t many fics set in the little time period post-TYBW where Ichigo&co stay at the Shiba house, probably because normal fic writers are normal and do not obsess over that one tiny paragraph in CFYOW that talked about Ichigo and Orihime living together, but yeah. Set right after the war, and is canon until ch. 684 (until Yhwach’s ‘defeat’) after which it veers off course and into fluffy fanfic territory!

Written for @chickoochote, as a part of the IchiHime Fandom Exchange, and obviously thank you to @ichihimeisfuckingcanon for organizing! Hope you like it! :D

Read on AO3 | Read on ff.net

Death is everywhere.

Orihime feels the dull weight of it press onto her bones, draining the very life out of her. She’s bleeding in more places than one — after all, not even Rukia’s kido can work on wounds as fast-opening as hers— but she holds herself on her better ankle anyway. She feels it spiritually, rather than physically, the way her very energy is drawn in a dozen different directions at once, nowhere near enough to seep life back where it was lost.

And so there’s death. Opposite. Contrary.

The air twists. Suddenly, there’s a flash and Ichigo is there, right behind Renji and utterly battered. Orihime can’t remember what she says, whether the gust of relief she let out was an ‘Oh God’ or ‘you’re okay’ or even something coherent at all.

Thankfully, Rukia beats her to it.

“Ichigo,” she says, forthright and sharp, “Is he—”

“Yeah.” He sounds bone-tired and it hurts so much to see him standing there, tattered and exhausted. Somewhere along the horizon, the sun starts to dip and it turns his eyes to embers as they look past everything to meet hers. “I think we got him.”

Relief tastes bitter in the silence that follows.

…

Ichigo would say in earnest that they never tried to make a habit of it. It’s just something that happened. They’d been designated to the Shiba house at the time, a modest little place with narrow corridors that snaked up and down the house. The first night, it hadn’t even been intentional. It was just... something that happened. Forty-eight hours after fighting—and winning—a war, he could’ve honestly chalked it all up to a fever dream.

In the wake of the war, all the splintered parts of his life start to slowly piece themselves together. Him and Inoue are accounted for, and the last he heard, Uryu went back home with his dad.

“It’s the smarter thing to do,” Isshin says, when he senses Ichigo’s frustration at not being able to chew the nerd out for putting them through all that shit and then fucking off. “He’s safer in neutral territory, once they start combing out the grounds for survivors.”

Ichigo’s stomach twists enough to give him pause, and when he glances over his shoulder, it’s almost a relief to see Inoue wince too. Uryu’s done a lot of stupid shit, but they can always do the chewing out part of this later, he reckons. Inoue smiles like she agrees.

Rukia and Renji are okay, too, he learns. Chad manages to send a hell butterfly— “Ichigo, I’m okay” — and that’s about as much relief as he can expect from all camps there. Isshin pats both their heads goodnight and leaves, leaving him and Inoue in the hallway alone.

Inoue nudges past him to his own room.

“Inoue,” he calls out, “What—”

She turns, and his words die in his throat when she fixes him with a look that makes his skin warm and his spine shiver. She’s long changed out of her tattered clothes and into the cargo shorts she arrived in, but no amount of clothing can change the way blood dries at her forehead, hair matted with sweat, hands curled into fists at her side. Hands with jagged fingernails that were rough with dirt, rough with bruises from when she’d fallen to the ground and Yhwach had sneered like he knew.

“I’m going to heal you,” she says softly, but firmly.

A protest blooms at the tip of his tongue like a firecracker, almost in an instant. “You don’t have to—”

“Kurosaki-kun,” she interrupts, her eyes full of determination, but soft with understanding just the same. “I’m going to heal you.”

So he nods, rather numbly. Maybe he hadn’t realized it before but he realizes it now, how important it is for her to make sure he’s far behind the brink of death and not on the very edge of it, like he had once been. Like she had once seen him. She made a promise to herself — just as he did— and so it’s okay. He watches her nitpick around the room, fussing with the futon they laid out for him as he slings his zanpakuto over its shelf.

It probably should have occurred to him then that none of this domesticity was normal for them, that he should have done what was proper and seen her to her room at the first given opportunity, but he’d been so tired and she was there, dome full of warmth and security right above him, effectively blurring the rigid lines he’d unconsciously built for this situation in the first place.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

“There’s no need for that,” she replies sweetly, and a warm shudder ripples through her shield like she’s trying to pass on some of that comfort to him. His eyes flicker to where she's sitting, kneeling with her feet tucked under her thighs, and he feels the sudden urge to cry.

“Stop,” he rasps, almost halfway getting up, only to run into the obstruction of the shield. “Inoue—I can’t.”

Can’t breathe. Can’t think. The air is still so thick with Yhwach’s spiritual energy, and to think that there’s a future out there where they didn’t make it—where everything had crumbled to dust...it’s enough to make him want to throw up with reflux.

“Can’t what?” Inoue asks, confused. She tilts her head until they are eye to eye through the translucence of her shield. “Kurosaki-kun?”

“I can’t do this,” he says, wiping off the excess sweat from his mouth with his sleeve. He feels sick with dread, and the last thing she needed was to see him like this. “You—you should go. Get some rest.” He makes to get up again, but her shield is still intact. He doesn’t meet her eyes, but he grits out a soft, “Inoue.”

Her hand hesitantly swims through her shield and curls around his wrist, pushing it down gently to his side. It’s a ‘no,’ even though she didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, but it isn’t and she must know that or she wouldn’t insist on staying. “Please. Just let me heal you, okay?”

He does. He watches from the corner of his eye, how her shoulders curled in on themselves, and the way her threadbare hoodie hugs her a size too small, like all the warmth in the world has composited itself in her. It’s a ridiculous amount for a single person to emit, and sometimes it used to hurt to look at her but it doesn’t anymore and he doesn’t know what that means except for that this is Inoue and, really, there has never been anyone as warm as Inoue. Eventually, she meets his eyes and smiles and he thinks, later, that that’s the last thing he sees before he drifts asleep right there—underneath her dome.

If that means anything at all.

The next time he wakes up, it takes a minute for him to realize where he is— to realize she’s fallen asleep too, her head curled into her body like a question mark beside his shoulder. Her shield has long dissipated back into her pins, leaving the room devoid of the thrumming that sent him to sleep in the first place. And Inoue — he gulps.

They aren’t touching — he realizes with immediate relief — but the whisper of heat from her body is close enough for him to realize this is far too inappropriate, and his heart thunders with a roar at the realization.

“Inoue,” he whispers, tactless, as he prods her shoulder sharply. “Wake up.”

She murmurs, rolling her shoulder away from his fingers. He prods again, his body slowly jolting alert when he realizes the predicament they’re in. The fact that his family is prone to pairing their wake-up calls with theatrics does not help and neither does the fact that his dad now shares a roof with his...Ganju.

The mental image is not satisfying.

“Inoue!”

“Wahh, Kurosaki-kun, I’m so tired,” she mumbles sleepily, swatting his prodding hand away with an aim that’s quite off its mark. His hand hangs suspended in its mission and his face softens. Well. There’s that, too. His face fills with heat, but it all shrinks into his cheeks when he notices the pale rings beneath her eyes, the tired way her hand loosely curls into the floorboard below. He shifts around and throws the comforter over her body until it covers her more than it does him.

Then, he rolls over and tries not to think about the warmth of her breath on the back of his neck.

…

(Inoue doesn’t wake up beside him in the morning and the only indication that it even happened at all is the faint blush on her cheeks when he smiles at her during breakfast).

…

They end up in his room again, somehow. He and Chad had eaten dinner here, and she’d stopped by to see them after a long day of helping the Fourth. This time, she’s wide awake but looks so tired that he doesn’t really say anything when Chad leaves but she stays behind. Doesn’t say anything when Kukaku blows out the lights outside and drowns them in a quiet darkness either. Her silhouette glows faintly against the moonlight that filters in and Ichigo isn’t surprised at all that there is not a single sharp edge in her body.

Still, even so. There are boundaries here and he respects her greatly, so when she begins to stretch and yawn like a cat before flopping right onto the floor beside him, his heart leaps to his throat.

“Inoue—” he begins, sweating nervously. “What are we doing?’

She rolls on her belly, resting her cheek flush against the floor. “We’re sleeping,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Is that okay, Kurosaki-kun?”

His chest heaves because yeah, it’s okay that they’re sleeping but they’re also sleeping together, which is not something he’s ever done with anyone before. Hell, even Rukia, during the old days, was stuffed into the closet and pretty much nonexistent until she decided to read her shoujo out loud at like, three in the morning. This—it’s different.

His eyes cross over to where she is, and to his surprise, her eyes are open. Tired as she is, it’s like she’s waiting for his green signal before deciding whether she wants to sleep here or not. This in itself does things to his stomach, the matter of being given a choice in things often quite foreign to him, but he doesn’t dwell on it too much. Just shifts in his futon until he’s at the very edge, leaving at least four feet of space beside him.

It is a large futon.

“Not gonna leave you on the floor,” he grumbles, because he knows she’s watching his back curiously, brows furrowed like she’s trying to figure him out. She’s probably not going to have a lot of luck; he doesn’t understand himself sometimes, right now being one of them.

She hesitates before she slides in and his heartbeat is a hummingbird’s wing against his chest, faint and fluttery.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and his breath evens out despite itself.

Inoue makes sure to stick to her end, a vast gulf of space between them. Logically, they probably don’t have to spread this wide apart, but it brings comfort to his mind that he’s not going to do anything accidentally inappropriate if he’s this far away from her. He — there are boundaries here, even if they’re vastly disappearing between the susurrus of his sighs and hers.

“Kurosaki-kun,” she says softly, “I’m glad we’re okay.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Me too.”

“Do you...do you think he’ll be back?”

Ichigo doesn’t want to think, so he clenches his fist in the sheets. Somewhere behind him, he can feel her shifting and the movement itself is familiar, a whisper of a reminder that he isn't alone.

“If he does, we’ll be ready,” he says eventually, after a long beat of silence, surprised he means it. The ‘ready’ part, but also the ‘we’ part, if he’s being honest with himself.

“You’re right,” she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. It’s taken a while for them to get here, to get to a point where he’s willing to swallow back his fear and take her with him where he goes. And he knows it makes her happy, even if he sometimes loses sleep over all the possibilities that would have panned out if either one of them hadn’t made it.

"Kurosaki-kun," she says again.

"Hmm?"

"What do you think would happen if the world ended right now? At this very moment?"

We'd be sleeping. Together, he thinks.

"We'd die," he says instead.

She huffs. "That's such a boring answer."

He grins. "Inoue."

"Hmm?"

"Go to sleep."

"Aye Aye, Captain Kurosaki!"

Ichigo snorts, and he can't see her but he hears the pillow ruffle and he knows she's saluting his back. The words leave his mouth before he can think them through. "Please. Call me Ichigo, Captain Kurosaki was my father."

She giggles, and it's the closest they come to admitting that they've been through a war together, but still cannot bring themselves to call the other's given name. He's used to it, is the thing—used to this place he's given himself behind boundaries. He doesn't know who he'd be without it. But here, where the walls come down and Orihime's honey-sweet scent wafts across the room, he wonders if that would really be a bad thing.

Eventually, Ichigo falls asleep, his dreams taking him back to destroyed columns of the Royal Realm. It's cold and there's the weight of everyone's hopes on his shoulders as he wades through the mist. He can feel Renji beside him, the decisive sounds of their footsteps echoing as they march forward. It's perpetual motion, this fight, and it keeps him moving and moving until there's an opening—some kind of loophole he can exploit so they can all go home.

"Ichigo," Renji is saying, but there's a low thrumming sound that starts to fill his ears and he has to strain to listen.

Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo.

His heart thunders, trying to claw its way out to whoever's calling his name. He grabs at nothing, tries to decipher who it is.

Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo— the staccato grows and it chants his name until the footsteps, their heavy breathing, the whistle of the wind, all turn to the repeated choruses of his name.

saveus, it howls. helphelphelp.

He snaps his eyes open sharply, unsurprised to find his cheeks warm and wet with tears. Inoue's hand is on his face, even though his back is to her, and if he was half-alright, he would have been embarrassed. Right now, however, her sloppy thumb rubbing his ear anchors him to the moment. Her hand drags down from his face to his neck before curling into a fist at his back — a slow chain reaction that blooms warmth under her clumsy touch and has him chanting the time's tables in his head.

This—this isn't something they do, and he's aware of that, but it distracts him enough from his nightmare, so he focuses on his 'eight times three equals twenty-four' and not how nice it feels to be burrowed by Inoue's soft body.

And, by virtue of thinking about something by trying hard not to think about it, he sometimes thinks about that too.

…

It doesn't happen every night — which is mostly how he justifies it to himself — and they almost never touch. Or at least, he never touches her. Inoue is an unconscious sleeper, and the times they do sleep together, he sometimes wakes up with her hair in his mouth or her hard head jabbing his kidneys. How she manages to get there is beyond him, but she does, and it sometimes wakes him up from whatever nightmare—memory—he's stuck in.

Once, he wakes up before she manages to slip out of his room, and he watches as her hair forms little whorls where they fan out, her pink mouth puffing deep breaths as she snores. He watches how her eyelashes feather the tops of her cheeks and how her small hands always form fists and wonders why his heart feel bruised and healed at the same time. There’s an answer there, somewhere, but he’s too tired and too burnt-out to go looking for it when he could stay right here and look at her instead.

And sneaking out—that has to be the worst part, because no one knows about this, and that alone makes it feel wrong in the morning when it had felt so right only the night before. Chad asks him one day, when they're out picking seeds for Ganju's boars, if anything has changed between him and Inoue.

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asks, ears pink and guilty.

"Just," Chad says vaguely, "if there's anything you want to talk about."

He thinks he wants to talk about how sometimes, he's so afraid that he wants to push her away, but sometimes he's so terrified that he wants to hold her closer, and neither of these feelings are comforting or disconcerting; they're just...there. He doesn't know what they mean or what to make of them.

But he never tells, and so Chad never asks again.

…

Eventually, he allows himself the acknowledgement that some nights, it brings him comfort. Most nights, if he’s being honest. All nights, if he admits to himself that he likes waking up to her—even if she’s never around when he really wakes up, or that they never really talk about it during the day. There’s something so comfortingly innocent about it, and he knows it’ll never stay that way if anyone else even catches a whisper of it. Inoue both blazes and soothes something inside of him, and he’s afraid of getting used to it — like the acknowledgement alone will snatch her away from him.

For now, he lets himself have this one thing without putting up a fight, and when he meets her at the branch of corridor between his room and hers that night, he braves himself to ask, “Ready for bed?”

She smiles.

Later, when he’s between the liminal brink of a dream and a nightmare, he feels her snake her arms around his abdomen, forehead pressed to the back of his neck, one small hand resting over his heart. He releases a contented sigh and shifts his own hand to keep it there.

It’s safe, he thinks.

He trusts her enough to protect it.

#ichihimefandomexchange #ichihime #myfic #please excuse any OOC-ness it's been a very long week and i felt very self indulgent #and of course thanks to the host(s) for doing this! I had fun :D

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heartkarl · 2 years

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hi can I request myct x reader where they go to like a haunted house for Halloween: how they would react and if they were to dress up to go to the haunted house etc.? platonic is fine or however you would like! thank you!

༊*·˚⤻ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝒊𝐥𝐥𝒆𝐫, !c.tommyinnit, dream, slimecicle ‧₊˚ :

➳❥ 𝒙𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 // 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢!!

What it'd be like to have a very spooky Halloween with a few of the Dream SMP boys!

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒊𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 // 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗞!!

Thriller by Micheal Jackson, listen along! <3

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒆𝐱𝐭𝐫𝒂 // 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗬𝗢𝗨<3

ty for your wonderful request! hope this fulfills your spooky needs! have a wonderful Halloween!

🍭 c.𝐭𝒐𝐦𝐦𝐲 ¡¡

❥❥ needless to say, Halloween was an EXTREMELY big deal to Tommy (which of course meant that it was an even bigger deal to you)

❥❥ every year, the two of you would get dolled up by either Niki or Techno

❥❥ (who was surprisingly good at face painting for someone with hooves)

❥❥ and set off to wreak havoc around the smp until the sun went down

❥❥ and boy oh boy, when the sun went down is when the REAL fun began

❥❥ you thought the rivalry was competitive before? pls.

❥❥ It. Was. On.

❥❥ from the second the announcement of Trick Or Treating had breaded the air, you both were sprinting from house to house stockpiling as much candy as humanly possible

❥❥ (you even managed to hit Phil’s house twice, but his old man brain wouldn’t have known the wiser)

❥❥ and don’t even get me started on when the two of you would be caught at the same house

❥❥ Tommy would pull the whole “AW CMON MAN! MY COSTUME IS WAY CUTER THAN- THAN A STUPID COWBOY!”

❥❥ little did he know sapnap had a soft spot for cowboys

❥❥ you were oh so proud, seeing as you’d gotten significantly more candy from the Texan originator

❥❥ “ya snooze ya lose Tommo, can’t help I have just the perfect costume ever”

❥❥ he’d been dressed as a makeshift zombie

❥❥ (and yes ofc he went around scaring the Tubster and Eryn)

❥❥ but overall, it’s such a joyous time around the smp

❥❥ Dream and his pals even get in on the fun, hosting a scary movie night for the residents and doing their best to withhold the “Fuck you. I’m not scared” spiel.

❥❥ you and Tommy devise the perfect plan to absolutely petrify them

❥❥ (it goes perfectly duh)

❥❥ you both get your candy taken, but honestly it was kinda worth it

❥❥ (and Tommy has a secret stash he’d more than happily share with you)

❥❥ essentially you’re both dirty crime doers bein’ mischievous and stealin’ candy

❥❥ good times indeed

🎃 𝐝𝐫𝒆𝒂𝐦 ¡¡

❥❥ Omg omg omg dont even get him STARTED

❥❥ He, is ,,,, so excited

❥❥ To see you dress up, to see Patches dress up!

❥❥ Ofc all three of you have matching costumes

❥❥ You do dreams makeup perfectly

❥❥ HE FEELS SO PRETTY

❥❥ “Y/n I LOOK LIKE A PRETTY PRINCESS!”

❥❥ “I was going for zombie cheerleader but ok :D”

❥❥ After getting all dressed up and taking dozens of photos for twitter, you get ready to hand candy out to the neighborhood

❥❥ You both absolutely love seeing all the little kids costumes

❥❥ And you love getting to be all cuddly with patches

❥❥ he has to fight off the 8 year olds who cant help but call you pretty

❥❥ “Woaghhhh I really like your costume it;s so pretty :0”

❥❥ Smug little 8 year olds

❥❥ Tryna steal his lover

❥❥ No way

❥❥ Dream would be all like

❥❥ “Yeah well she really likes my face so who’s really winning here?”

❥❥ “Dream pls he’s 8”

❥❥ “Okay and youre mine”

❥❥ By the end of the night youd both be tired from laughing and smiling so hard

❥❥ (The dad jokes, omfg the dad jokes)

❥❥ “Y/n y/n y/n why didnnt the skeleton go to the prom”

❥❥ “I dunno dream why?”

❥❥ “Cuz he had no-body to go with”

❥❥ “........Youre lucky youre cute”

❥❥ For the rest of the night, the two of you continue snacking on the rest of your candy and watching halloween movies, cozied up with your sweet girl patches

👻 𝐬𝐥𝒊𝐦𝒆𝐜𝒊𝐜𝐥𝒆 ¡¡

❥❥ Oh boy

❥❥ Are you in for some spooks

❥❥ Charlie has his a game on when it comes to the Halloween haunts

❥❥ And just like the few years prior, he takes you ghost hunting

❥❥ Ofc with the other members of the dork squad

❥❥ But things would get especially spooky on Halloween night

❥❥ Because charlie and bizly would find it absolutley hilarious to annoy the spirits of the haunted location, doing everything they can to get things stirred up

❥❥ “Hey ghosts! I bet you arent even dead!” “YEAH, fuckin posers! Im more dead than you are!”

❥❥ “Charlie pls youre gonna get us possessed” “GOOODDDDD let them dumbass ghosts possess me! Im not scared!”

❥❥ That was until

❥❥ Something actually happens

❥❥ Something goes bump in the night and the rest of the crew absolutely lose their shit

❥❥ “AH IM SORRY GHOSTS PLS DONT POSSESS ME IM TOO SEXY TO BE DEAD”

❥❥ Charlie takes the initiative to be the :Cool protective boyfriend”

❥❥ Pretends to fight the air whenever something happens

❥❥ Is willing to fight a werewolf for you tbh

❥❥ “Werewolves? Pshhh. Vampires? Psshssshshsh”

❥❥ And everything is fine and dandy

❥❥ Until the lights flicker on and off

❥❥ The lights had been turned completely off prior

❥❥ And everyone had absolutely no fucking idea what happened

❥❥ Chaos ensued

❥❥ Everyone was running around, screaming trying to find an exit

❥❥ And once you finally did

❥❥ The four of you just sit on the steps outside

❥❥ Like

❥❥ “What the f uc k just happened”

❥❥ Its raining, no one cares

❥❥ The ghosts (presumably) 1 The Dork Ghost Hunters 0

❥❥ Then ofc you go to get mcflurries and act like nothing happened

❥❥ Spooked up indeed, you couldnt wait for charlie to tell all of your friends about it!

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓!

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mothra-mcyt · 3 years

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Hi! Love your work!! Can I request a Schlatt SFW alphabet please? Thank you ❤️

(Remember that Schlatt is just a character/persona and this is not about the realy person behind that character)

☾ Jschlatt SFW Alphabet ☽

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

I don't think he would show you affection directly. Most of the time it's subtle like if you two are hanging out he will play your favorite song he remembered you talking about, making sure you drink enough water, always asking if you've eaten something already etc.

Or giving you presents like new video games, buying a hoodie that he saw you looking it while thinking about buying it

And of course he would also show you affection through bullying.

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

The friendship would probably start with a love or host or the two of you got introduced to eachother by a friend.

He would be a fun bestfriend having the attitude of "I'm the only one who's allowed to bully you everyone else can shut the fuck up."

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

Likes to lay on his back with you at his side with your head laying on his chest. Puts his arm around you and pets your hairs.

Also really likes to lay his head on your chest and hearing your heartbeat.

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

Imma be honest he's not that good at cooking or cleaning always having unwashed clothes and ordering food most of the time.

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

It depends on how long the relationship has been going and on how strongn the bond of you two is.

If you two haven't been together for long it would be way easier for him making him able to tell it to you without being very sad.

But if you two have been a couple for a long time it would be very hard for him probably not being able to keep the tears in.

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

I feel like he has commitment issues and he just constantly worries that the two of you are going to break up after marriage so it would take him to really know you're the one to get married.

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

He doesn't really like showing when he's sad because he thinks it makes him look weak but if you're sad he won't think of you as weak at all and will do his best at comforting you.

He's very aware of his strengh and is very gentle physically always being careful when picking you up or hugging you.

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

At first he's like "Na i don't really like hugs that much" until once you gave him a hug while he was angry to calm him down. That moment he realised how much he likes getting hugs from you.

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

The words "I love you" mean a lot to him so it would take him a long time to say it with a meaning behind it.

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

It really depends on the person. If he trusts the person you're hanging out with and knows them then he doesn't care because he trusts you.

But if he already thinks the person you're hanging out with is sus then he can get kinda jealous.

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

He really likes to kiss you on your neck because he likes the reaction he can get out of you.

Most of his kisses are really heated taking away your breath but if the moment is fitting he likes softer kisses.

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

I don't think he's that good around children. He doesn't like how loud and annoying they are. But he finds it adorable how curious they can be sometimes and how they don't give a shir and tell you straight in the face when they think you're ugly.

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

Sounds really weird but because i know that he likes animals i feel like he'd watch animal documentaries that are playing on the tv early in the morning while laying in bed with you.

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

If he has to edit it's probably spent with him sitting at his pc while you're in the room doing whatever you want because he likes your company.

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

I think he would start revealing things pretty early but he waits a while to reveal things slowly and not everything at once. Letting you take your time in figuring out if you like him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Usually he doesn't get seriously angered easily but plays being angry. He could never be seriously angry at you because he's scared you're gonna hate him. But if someone is being mean to you he can get angry easily.

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

He likes to remember stuff about you and write it down in his phone. Your favorite colour, favorite flower, favorite song, your insecurities etc.

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

Once when he was editing you fell asleep in his lap trying to stay awake so he acted like you were a cat and did his best not to move to disturb you in anyway that could wake you up.

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

If he sees you being uncomfortable because of someone he can be pretty protective. If it happens outside he will get you out of harms way and probably insult the person that is making you uncomfortable. Is also not afraid to throw hands.

He's basically constantly 'bullying you' but if someone other than him bullies you he's like 'Hey bitch you can't do that'

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

He puts a lot of effort into dates and anniversaries making sure that you're going to like what he does/gives you.

Usually when he gifts you stuff it can be anything that he finds on the internet but he likes to gift you games over steam.

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

He's not very good at expressing his emotions especially sadness so he tends to bottle up all sadness until he has a breakdown. While in that breakdown he distances himself from you because he's scared you're gonna hate him.

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

I mean he's not completely obsessed with his looks but he just likes to look neat for himself. What he is kinda obsessed with tho is his beard and he always wants it to look good.

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

The thing is he's definitely able to be alone for a while without immediately missing you. But he loves just you being around him without conversations so he would probably start to muss your company.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

If he really trusts you he'll lay his head in your lap and if you pet his hair he'll probably fall asleep. Loves to do this after a long day of editing or streaming.

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

He wouldn't like it if his partner gets overly jealous. It annoys him and he sometimes just wants to hang out with friends.

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

He has a tendency to pull the blanket closer to him when sleeping so you better cuddle with him if you don't wanna freeze.

He also sometimes drools but don't tell him that.

Masterlist

#mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt headcanons #mcyt headcannon #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt headcanon #sfw alphabet #mcyt x reader #request

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yoimix · 3 years

Text

haikyuu!! as types of best friends.

➼ ft. hinata, sugawara, bokuto, osamu+atsumu.

➼ playlist. talk too much - coin, higher - banks, romanticism - mrs green apple, me and my friends - james vincent mcmorrow

➼ a/n. these have light bff2l undertones hhn i love that trope, pls forgive me. </3 + there’s some timeskip spoilers for atsumu & osamu’s part.

❀ hinata :-

i wish the childhood best friends trope a very good evening.

no one’s better than hinata at making friends, even if you met after he spiked a ball into your face. you’re childhood best friends too !! so imagine being a child and having to pick up this goofball by the scruff, who has the audacity to ask you to play with him after giving you a scratched up forehead and teary eyes from a ball to the face. but, like, you were the one who said yes so it’s on you :-)

sometimes you bicker but it’s ok bc he would literally go to the ends of the earth for you if you asked. no kidding. he hates sitting still anyway so he’ll just gravitate towards where you are like you’re the sun. also gets you taiyaki in the evenings but climbs in through your window instead of using the front door like a normal person. (he has too much energy </3) if you hear someone yelling your name outside your window and ranting about volleyball games, you know who it is.

ok when he makes you mad with his bullheadedness, you'll be complaining with kageyama (who agrees vehemently) and hinata gets pissy bc you get along a little too well when you're throwing insults about him. (he's not jealous, no, of course not.) but.. how long can you stay mad at this sunshine child anyway?? you'll be pretending you never got mad at all within a few hours and go back to joking around.

he gets distracted if you're watching a match sometimes (bokuto somehow got it into his head that he needs to show off in front of you) so you got banned from watching. he overcomes it later on so you can cheer him on in his jersey too <3

gives you ALL his attention when you talk or even complain about your life. he reacts a lot to whatever you have to say so you have to pretend there aren’t people behind you glaring at hinata for having the same decibel sound level as a jet engine.

you have matching keychains you bought at a local fair !!! (you got a pochacco one for hinata but it’s super worn out by now so he keeps it in his wallet instead.)

he has not won a single multiplayer video game against you (*cough cough* mario kart *cough*) and you don’t even have to be good at it. if you call him a loser, he’ll lose even harder. gets unnecessarily mad at just dance and you have to calm him down.

... you’ve probably kissed bc the two of you (mostly him) were too eager for a first kiss and you got fed up with his pubescent ramblings and ended up kissing him. and then had an early mid-life crisis bc you guys are definitely just friends. (unless.. unless he doesn’t think that way.. surprise surprise 😳) also he's.. kind of bad for make out practice... it’s like kissing a month old puppy.. sorry :/. if you happen to make a lot of offhand comments and tease him about his kissing skills, he WILL turn tomato red and argue in gibberish. only do that in private bc the rest of the world thinks you’re sickeningly cute together >:(

overall, your best friend is a ball of sunshine (who occasionally pisses you off) and your #1 motivation to get out of bed. it's mostly bc he's somehow there to get you out of bed though you've repeatedly told him to not climb in through your window. at least the sun is smiling upon you every day <3

❀ sugawara :-

being best friends with him is such a secure relation !!

he’s your soft place to fall but also would provide gentle (not so gentle) reminders for your wellbeing (STUDY!!! WATER!!!! BREAKFAST!!). doesn’t get mad when you say you skipped breakfast but gives you this look of disappointment which is 100x more effective. still gets a granola bar for you though. also he literally carries bandaids for u and he’s been doing that since second grade bc you fell off the swing ONCE. you know, just in case. if you’re an accident-prone hazard to society, you’re in luck.

BEST HUGS especially if you had a rough day and want to sob into his shoulder. if u damage his $85 hoodie tho, he will make u do his laundry and also buy snacks for him. but like he is so soft (his skin is SUPER soft bc he actually follows a skincare routine now) and cuddly like a teddy bear, it's a small price to pay for salvation.

he will hype you up for anything you do !!!! new outfit? offers to be your personal photographer. scored an A+? will treat u to your fav ice-cream. new job? will tell everyone just how proud he is.

ALWAYS shares the last bite with you and smiles to himself when you eat it so contented. also!!! hanging out at cafes and taking cute pictures is a must <3 even though you’re not dating, you’ll have photos together that make you look a real couple which ensue teasing from daichi and asahi and admiration/jealousy from noya and tanaka. also he gets weirdly protective of you around the team (i’m looking at the moron quartet) and you have to pull the “koushi you’re not my mom” card. it really strikes a chord with him when you say that out loud.

will egg your ex's house with you if you say the word. somehow gets more pissed than you at your ex (if they're a shitty one). it's kind of scary when he's mad too so.... good luck calming him down. he's also really good at sarcastic trash talk so if you happen to meet your ex on the street... send prayers for their self-esteem.

you don't really fight often but if you happen to disagree, he'll go about it in a pretty mature way and talk it out. if you pick a fight on purpose, he'll catch on to it and either tickle you (excessively) or flick your forehead as punishment for trying to rile him up. it’s impossible to prank him!!!!! it’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something so you might as well give up on anything of the sort.

you said you want to get a dog (or cat) with him in the near future and he somehow equated that to having children. turned bright red and started saying it’s too soon to be thinking of that while you had daichi stop you from smacking some sense into your overly imaginative best friend. (i mean, you do need to live together if you want to raise a pet sooo)

his lockscreen is a picture of the two of you so a lot of people who try to hit on him take the hint quick. he says it’s unintentional but you know he can be terribly scheming at times. if you say something like “why don’t you date me for real, coward” he will malfunction and not be able to look you in the eye. (“don’t joke around, y/n” “what if i’m not” “it kind of feels illegal to date you” “what do you mean?!💢”)

anyway you are one lucky mf if you have sugawara koushi as your best friend even if there are both ups and downs (mostly ups). having someone care for you so blatantly certainly makes the question of romance arise but you’re content with the most loving best friend ever.

❀ bokuto :-

you guys are the “two best friends in a room, we might kiss” “yes we will” “what” type of best friends PLS

it doesn’t matter what stage of life you met him, it’ll feel like you’ve been best friends since the beginning of time.

it’s just so easy to make friends with this airhead and by god’s gift, you cannot physically get annoyed at this man. sometimes his friends will complain about him being forgetful or blunt but you’re just there like. yeah. that’s bokuto. love him for it. (you seem to have a lot of patience.)

he probably gets into trouble with authority unwittingly, so save your weekends to sweet talk his way out after accidentally implying the coach has a weak mindset. afterwards, you go get ice cream or something and hang out at the dog park to forget it happened. (the amount of second hand embarrassment bokuto has given you though... you need some hard drugs to forget all of it.)

you probably make a lot of friends through him in high school/college but at the end of the day, it’s just you and him and sometimes akaashi making sure you guys are alive. if you guys are alone together on a friday night, you’ll still be having fun!! very often, it takes shape as karaoke :-) bokuto thinks he’s really great at rapping for some reason (he’s not) so cue you screaming the lyrics in an attempt to ruin your part of the song equally. also he always sets the key wrong??? although you sing the same songs each time?? sometimes he picks a song neither of you have ever heard and the both of you try to guess the melody. he’s terrible at it but at least he’s funny. there’s not a single song he hasn’t had a voice crack in.

if you go clubbing/partying with him, get prepared to be introduced as the friend of “the guy who did four keg stands in a row before proceeding to do a cartwheel unprompted and somehow not throw up”. is on first name basis with the bartenders/hosts and gets you free drinks. also gets hit on often but is oblivious unless they’re being very straightforward. if he’s not into them... you have to pull the s/o card and save his ass. oh also he barks at anyone that gets near your drink.

will always exaggerate when introducing you to new people. “y/n and i met when i saved them from drowning a terrible death.” “it was the children’s pool and you were the one that was screaming.” “and then y/n didn’t really thank me but it’s not like heroes need thanks to do the right thing.” “kou, i will push you into a pool right now, let’s see how well you swim.” (he learned swimming to impress you so joke’s on you.)

he likes to watch you do stuff at the end of the day, so if you see him go o_o at you doing homework, you can just put your earphones on and focus on your work. even if he’s making.. a strangely.. adorable expression. also LOVES to listen to you talk about your day when he’s tired, he says it helps him sleep better (so expect a lot of nighttime calls). moreover, if you say you had a bad dream, he’ll comfort you with his ridiculously confident tone of voice (unless the dream was about something bad happening to him, then he’ll freak out and you’ll have to comfort him instead </3)

ok one thing that’s annoying about him is that he probably leaves food crumbs over your stuff like laptop, bed sheet, etc. you clean it up but bokuto.. is a bit... distracted to notice the mess he’s making. it’s usually pretty difficult to get him to be more aware, but like your glare is enough to make him at least try to be careful from the next time. (either that or he’s become sensitive to your change in mood/emotions bc you know... you’re best friends after all.)

i’m not gonna lie, he probably catches feelings for you at some point. he wants to, like, keep it lowkey bc akaashi told him to take your feelings into consideration too but?? it’s so hard?? you’re literally so pretty?? everything you say is like music to him??? he reacts reflexively to all the firecracker feelings u give him. he probably says he likes you all the time but you dismiss it with “as a friend right :-)”. there’s no climbing up from that one, sorry bokuto.

to summarize, if a moody golden retriever was your human best friend.exe

❀ miya twins :-

they feel like a set. it would be strange to have one of the twins as a bff and not have the other one around whoops 🤷‍♀️

either you and osamu bully atsumu in your free time, or you and atsumu annoy osamu for fun (or both) <3. it’s always a good idea to team up with osamu and prank atsumu for fun btw. (put wasabi in his breakfast pancakes and you’ll get a very pissed off but weirdly cute tsumtsum. you can blame it on osamu if you don’t want to face his wrath.) your alternative is to embarrass osamu in front of strangers with atsumu, have fun with that. (second hand embarrassment also works.)

when you were younger, you pretended to not be able to distinguish the twins bc it would visibly rile atsumu up and then you’d go “ok you’re atsumu”... which would further rile him up. osamu got used to your shenanigans though it ticked him off the first time too LOL. call them the wrong name on purpose and they’ll start a riot; be careful when you’re playing with fire pls.

you guys played a lot of knight and prince/princess/royal when you were a kid and atsumu would always try to make osamu the evil dragon holding you captive. in the end, you were somehow the knight, osamu the prince to be rescued and atsumu the big, bad dragon. (it’s kind of funny in hindsight. your parents have photographs of the three of you fighting like no tomorrow.) also speaking of which, your parents are also friends and have bets on which twin you’ll marry (or if you will at all). it’s tearing your parents’ friendship apart.

these two have DEFINITELY fought over whose jersey number you’re going to wear to the games ( “oi, ‘samu, stop brainwashing my best friend into wearing your stupid double digit number” “you know i’m the best friend, ‘tsumu. they clearly like me better over yer ratty ass.” “what did ya say?!?!? if anything, you’re the one that looks like ratatouille.”) you wore kita's jersey number to games.

imagine sunday picnics with the boys !!! by that, i specifically mean osamu and his perfect bento boxes <3 sometimes the two of you will cook together before your outings while a sulking atsumu stands outside bc you didn’t let him. (let him in, you monsters.) he says he can cook too but the last time the twins’ bickering almost burnt the whole kitchen down. the picnics continue well into adulthood and you get to diss your boss to the twins who will always support your rants. (sometimes atsumu will tell you it’s your fault but you can smack him off. we only need supportive besties here 🙄)

if someone hurts u.... they’re going to need divine intervention to be safe... you have two well-built, physically adept best friends ready to beat the shit out of anyone who deliberately breaks ur heart.

when the twins get into a physical fight...... oh boy. it kinda pisses you off that they’re spewing profanity at each other and you’re the one getting glares. but at the same time, you don’t really want to step into a fight that has nothing to do with you. people should solve their interpersonal issues on their own. they have never fought over you, this isn’t twilight <3

but the question did come up once on which twin you like better; it’s not something to seriously fight over though. if you chose osamu, atsumu will complain for six days straight and you’ll start to regret ever answering the question. if you say atsumu, osamu won’t feed you his onigiri anymore for a few days which is just as bad. the safest choice is to say neither bc it will both be funny and you won’t suffer too many consequences. if you say you love the both of them for being your best friends all this time and go all mushy, there’s a slight chance they’ll go soft too. god help you from the bone crushing hug you’re about to receive 🙏

you make sure to not miss any of atsumu’s official games !! sometimes he’ll wave at you and make the reporters give you hell bc he’s a little shit. just push osamu to them and run away if it gets that bad. (he gets free advertising for his shop, he should be grateful.)

osamu is super good at cheering you up!!! whether it’s with food or with pleasant talk, you’ll be feeling much better with a full stomach and a calmer state of mind. as for atsumu, he’s really good at you cheering you up by distracting you. he’ll talk about his team or this new serve he learnt and the world will seem a lot brighter bc he seems so happy about it. whichever twin you go to, it’s win-win.

in return, the twins take up a good chunk of your time. sometimes atsumu will crash at your place after a game though you’ve told him to not lead the damn reporters here. osamu makes you taste test his experimental onigiri... which are not always good..... no seriously, why’d he put honey and tuna in there ?? but still, your life is ridiculously colorful with them around.

anyway, what can i say except what’s better than one best friend?? two best friends !!!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #bokuto x reader #sugawara x reader #hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu #osamu #bokuto #sugawara #hinata #rosemi.hcs #kind of all over the place but it's about the vibes thank you #feel free to correct any typos i made im about to pass out gn ;-;

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the-himawari · 3 years

Text

A3! Citron - Translation [N] SSR Family

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Itaru: What’d you think about the VR festival, Masumi?

Masumi: …There was way too much going on and I couldn't get into the song properly.

Itaru: Eh~, it got more exciting because they had those performances though.

Tsuzuru: Well, it's true that those sorts of performances can only happen in a VR space.

Sakuya: It was really amazing! My heart’s still racing!

Citron: I had loads of fun too!

Chikage: I'm sure we'll be able to use these experiences in these VR realms for our upcoming play.

Citron: I feel like I’m going to fall totally in love with VR spaces. I want to experience more things that only VR worlds can offer. Do you have any more recs, Itaru?

Itaru: Let’s see, what’s been trending lately… Ah, it looks like VR host clubs are in right now. It’s written as news on the net.

Citron: A VR HOST CLUB!? I WANNA GO!

Tsuzuru: Uh, but aren’t host clubs where women go…?

Citron: No, no. Did you forget? You can become anything in the VR world!

-pause-

Itaru: “This looks like a host club you can enjoy for free.”

Tsuzuru: “Citron-san forced us to come as female avatars since he insisted this would be good practice for the play…” “But I gotta say, I feel pretty out of my element…”

Citron: “I’m not Citron, Tsuzumi! I’m Citoyo! Right~, Sakiko!”

Sakuya: “Y-yeah!”

Citron: “Okay, let’s go girls! Itaka, Chikae, Masuna. Make sure to speak like a woman, got that!”*

Chikage: “Good grief.”

Host A: “Welcome to the VR host club!”

Host B: “Hey, come on over here, you pretty princesses.”

Sakuya: “T-thank you very much!”

Citron: “We’re gonna have sooo much fun today~ ♪”

Host C: “Yeah, let’s enjoy ourselves together!”

Host A: “All you ladies are drop-dead gorgeous.”

Itaru: “I'm flattered. This is our first time visiting a VR host club.”

Host A: “Really now! Well, I’m glad you came. We’ve got lots to talk about.”

Chikage: “Oh, right. Can you tell us more about VR host clubs?”

Host A: “Of course, I’ll teach you anything.”

Host B: “Ah, should I put on some music? What kinda tunes do you like?”

Sakuya: “U-um, me and the guys… I mean, girls don’t really know much. So please play a song you recommend!”

Host C: “We’ve also prepared popular party games. How ‘bout we play them together?”

Tsuzuru: “S-sure. Teach us how to play… right, ladies?”

Citron: “That’s it, everyone’s killing it! We’re so totally cute!”

Masumi: “*Sigh*…”

Host D: “Come on, get in the spirit! Let’s chat! Or do you wanna play something?”

Masumi: “Not interested.”

Host D: “Eh~. That cold shoulder only gets me more fired up.” “I’m definitely gonna make you smile!”

Masumi: “No, you won’t.”

Host D: “Just watch me~!”

Masumi: “No, you won’t.”

Tsuzuru: “It looks like that VR host's motivation got ignited…”

Itaru: “The undaunted host and the unbreakable Masumi. This is the legendary unstoppable force VS immovable object…”

---

*The Spring troupe guys try to use feminine speech patterns/ endings in the story. I tried my best to make this work in English haha

#a3!#a3! translation #citron #act! addict! actors!#oh ymgod

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dirtyhelen · 3 years

Text

i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.”

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.”

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel #carol danvers #femslash february

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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ragewerthers · 3 years

Text

To Defeat A Dragon

Summary: With the 100 year war behind them and the battles now lying more in the council room then on the battlefield, Sokka and Zuko take a moment to reminisce over the last few years.

However, reminiscing comes with a few surprises for Zuko when he forgets something rather important about the spars he used to have with Sokka. But no worries... Sokka is more than happy to remind him.

A/n: Hello and Merry christmas, my friend!!! I am the secret santa for @calmturquoise for the Squealing Santa 2020! Thank you for giving me the chance to write something so sweet for these two and getting to join in on the fun of ATLA again!

I also want to thank @ticklygiggles for hosting this event again! You're amazing and I’m so happy I got to participate in this once more!

The prompt was for some sweet, platonic Sokka and Zuko and I was so excited to get the chance to write these two!!!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308495

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 2941

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

“I think they’re deliberately starting to make those Council meetings longer,” Zuko grumbled, shifting uncomfortably where he now rested. Currently, he was sat at the edge of the small turtleduck pond in the middle of the royal gardens. Attempting to alleviate the ache in his back he went to sit up a little straighter. The result was his back cracking in a way that was probably unhealthy for someone who was only twenty-three, but really he should’ve known this would be par for the course. Growing up a child warrior really isn’t kind to the bones in the long run. Wincing at the dull ache it left behind it wasn’t enough to distract him from the snort of his less than empathetic friend.

“No, buddy. You’re just finally starting to become the cranky old man you always were inside,” Sokka teased, practically laying beside Zuko as he reclined back on his elbows… before promptly collapsing next to the Firelord with a yelp. A charlie ostrihorse had aggressively decided to seize the muscles in his shoulders and neck and all he could do was roll around in the grass like a crazy person. Apparently, Zuko wasn’t the only one starting to feel the effects of those long meetings.

Zuko instantly smirked at the reaction, happy to see Sokka getting a taste of the elderly lifestyle they now lived in apparently.

“First of all, you deserve all of what’s happening to you right now,” Zuko said, waving his hand in the direction of Sokka’s prone form. “Second of all, what do you mean cranky?! I’m a ray of sunshine.”

The words were spoken so deadpan that Sokka instantly snorted with a bit of pained laughter, still clutching the side of his neck as he lay on the ground. “Don’t d-do thahat! Can’t you s-see I’m hurting?!” he whined, though his smile still remained as he looked over at his best friend. “But yes… how could I forget, oh great Firelord, that the sun is literally supposed to shine out of your butt?”

Zuko finally broke into a more open smile, sitting up a little straighter and nodding. “And don’t you forget it,” he joked, getting another ridiculous giggle from Sokka.

After a few more minutes, the pain finally seemed to subside as the water tribesman was able to sit up with a wince. Rolling his shoulder a bit to try and work out the last of the kink he couldn’t stop himself from letting out an almost wistful sigh. “But isn’t it a bit sad? I didn’t think it was possible to get aches and pains from just sitting! Remember the good old days of our youth when we could spar for hours and hours and we wouldn’t even be phased?”

“What do you mean ‘the good old days of our youth’? You’re only a year younger than me,” Zuko said with a little roll of his eyes as he began to remove his crown. With no further meetings scheduled for the day he figured he might as well be comfortable. Setting it beside himself on the grass he settled back against the tree, ignoring the look Sokka was giving him.

“Hey! We’re older than we were back then, right? So… those are the days of our youth! And you ignored the question,” he huffed.

“Oh… you were actually looking for an answer to your ramblings?” Zuko teased, a small smile fighting to quirk up the corners of his lips as he tried to ignore Sokka puffing his cheeks up like a toddler. Oh yeah… the man obviously had matured so much since those days. “Okay, okay. I do remember. I still consider myself proficient with the dual dao, but I think you’re right. With sitting most of our days away, I’m sure it hasn’t done our skills any favors.”

Sokka’s pout instantly retreated, replaced with a light smile as Zuko agreed with him. “Right? Not to mention that it was always super satisfying every time I won which, I mean, was almost always after our first few spars,” he said smugly, causing the Firelord to instantly focus on him.

“I’m sorry… what?” Zuko asked, his eyes narrowed and voice almost dangerously low.

Sadly, enough time and shared moments between them meant that Sokka no longer feared the ‘fire scowl’. Instead, his smug smile only grew. “You heard me. You may have handed my ass to me the first few times we spared, but after that I almost never lost another fight against you.”

“.... did that cramp do something to your memory?” Zuko wondered aloud. “It must’ve because if memory serves, you almost never won against me. You came close a number of times, but I was almost always the victor.”

However, regardless of how insistent his statement, that smug smile still remained on Sokka’s face as the Southern Water Tribesman sat up beside his friend. “Nope. I’m afraid old age has started to rust up those memories of yours, Sifu Hotman. I won almost all of our spars and I can’t believe you’ve forgotten.”

“......... did you drink one of Uncle’s experimental teas again? You know he almost killed himself doing that once!” Zuko warned, because that was the only way that Sokka could possibly think that he had won so many of their duels.

But something akin to worry grew in Zuko’s chest when he saw Sokka’s smile turning from smug to something a little more dangerous.

“Oh my dear Jerkbender. I think you’ve forgotten that while you may have had the upperhand most of the time when we were dueling, I found out a secret move. Because I remembered a universal truth about dragons.”

Oh yeah… Sokka definitely drank the experimental teas. He’d warned uncle that cactus juice wasn’t to be messed with!

Zuko quirked an eyebrow at the comment before closing his eyes to calm his temper. Taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, he turned once more to look at his friend. “Okay, buddy. Let’s get you to the healers,” he began gently, carefully reaching forward to rest his hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “I think they have a remedy for thi-HIHIS?!”

Immediately his arm moved back from Sokka to cover his side as an electric feeling zipped through his veins.

Sokka was only just keeping himself from laughing beside him, his fingers still poised from where they’d managed a small nibbling pinch against the Firelord's lower ribs. “The thing about dragons…,” Sokka continued, ignoring Zuko’s insistence on getting him medical attention. “... is that all of them have a soft spot. Once you find it… you can defeat it. And I was lucky enough to find a dragon with more weak spots then most.”

Suddenly Zuko remembered almost every one of his spars with Sokka… and with it the memory of an evil, horrible truth. Sokka had indeed won most of their spars after the first few. Because that cheating dunderhead had accidentally found out that Zuko… was horrendously ticklish.

And judging from the look Sokka was leveling him with his friend was looking to make sure he definitely remembered this little fact.

“S-Sokka! Sokka, listen to me… don’t you da-AH!” he shouted, rolling away just in time as Sokka attempted to tackle him into the grass. Quickly, Zuko managed to get up onto his knees, trying to get his feet underneath him to stand, but fate decided to deal him a cruel hand once more. His Fire nation robes for all the brilliance and regality they offered him to onlookers were far from practical. Long and flowing silks were seen as traditional and although he’d made many reforms in his time already on the throne, fashion hadn’t quite made it to the table yet. Thus, as he attempted to flee from his friend, his feet only managed to step on the front of his robes, stopping his movements and pausing him just long enough to land himself in Sokka’s clutches.

Before he knew it, two strong arms were already locked around his waist and Zuko attempted to use his words once more to try and plead his case for freedom.

Of course… when had that ever played out in his favor? “Sokka! S-Sokka, I remember, okay? You…. y-you don’t have to do this!” Zuko attempted to sound reasonable and less nervous then he felt, though he realized stuttering over his words lost a little bit of that authoritative tone he was aiming for.

“Oh, I realize I don’t have to do this,” Sokka teased, crooking the fingers of his left hand to press in just a little bit more against Zuko’s side making the young Firelord gasp and bite his lower lip to stay quiet. “But at this point I feel it is my duty to remind Lord Jerkbender about this so he doesn’t forget who the number one spar master is.”

“Spar master isn’t even a thing! You can’t just give yourself titles like th-ahahat! Ah! Nonono!” Zuko’s small diatribe instantly died on his lips as Sokka’s fingers began to wriggle against his side, a few rather unbecoming giggles already breaking free before he reined himself in again.

“What was that? Were you backsassing Sokka the mighty dragon slayer?!” Sokka teased, though he couldn’t help smiling as he already heard the familiar rasp of Zuko’s laughter. This was going to be far too entertaining. How could he pass up this opportunity?

“Dragon slayer?! You’re ridiculous! Let me gohohoahahaha! Stahp it! Stahahahap!” Zuko felt the flutter of Sokka’s other hand where it rested against his lower ribs on the opposite side. Immediately the jolt of ticklish sensations raced through him and he felt his knees already starting to turn to jelly beneath him. Of all of the things he could be weak against, something as silly as tickling was more than enough to sap his strength. Sokka’s smirk came back as he heard that, his fingers, scribbling lightly over both the Firelord’s sides. Working in tandem his fingers lightly brushed along the vulnerable area before massaging quickly into his lower ribs. If memory served, this had been one of the better weak spots of this particular dragon.

“WAHAIT!” Zuko cried out, his laughter finally breaking free from those raspy giggles to something lighter and more carefree. Honestly, it was something Sokka had been so proud to draw out all those years ago when Zuko was still that broody teenager who had joined their gaang. He had been so awkward and to be fair, their dear jerkbender still kinda was, but after attempting through sheer bullheadedness to forge a friendship with him, Sokka honestly couldn’t have been prouder to call him his best friend.

And what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t tease and taunt Zuko into never forgetting his super awesome new title that he just came up with? A terrible one… and Sokka refused to be a terrible friend.

“Wait? Wait for what? Oh! Were you going to finally call me by my proper title?” Sokka teased as he moved one of his hands down to squeeze along Zuko’s right hip.

Zuko instantly jumped at the sensation, feeling his legs finally starting to cave under him as he attempted to curl up in Sokka’s hold to escape the sensations. He could feel his cheeks and ears heating up as his laugh bubbled up unbidden, the noise still slightly foreign to him even after all these years. However, Sokka had never seemed to have a problem drawing it out of him. He just wished he had remembered that before drawing out the ‘dragon slayer’ once more.

“Nehehehever!” Zuko growled out between his laughter, his hands weakly attempting to push away Sokka’s to no avail. “Ihihit’s a… a stuhupid naha-EHEHEHE! STAHAHP IT Y-YOU AHAHAHASS!” Zuko’s strength finally gave out as his legs buckled beneath him, though with Sokka’s arms around him he was easily lowered to the ground. Sadly this did nothing for his current situation as Sokka had seemed to remember another one of his worst spots.

His stomach.

“Doth my ears deceive me? Did you just call my regal and totally awesome title stupid?! How dare you, good sir!” Sokka teased, his arm braced carefully around Zuko as his other vibrated quickly right against the center of Zuko’s stomach. He’d learned very early on that the easiest way to break Zuko’s concentration and resolve was a nice little attack on this particular area. “You know how to get this to stop, Zuko! Admit that I am the best dragon slayer in the world!”

Zuko snorted as Sokka’s hand began to scribble all around the hyper ticklish spot, trying to shimmy this way and that out of the man's hold to get away from the maddening touch. However, practically sitting on the ground with a tickle monster clung to your back really didn’t leave much wiggle room and Zuko realized his chances of freedom were slim. But his pride just wouldn’t allow for him to admit defeat just yet!

“Thahahaha’ts not e-even a thihihing! I re-refuhuhuse to gihihive in t-to yo-AHAHA! STAHP IT! STAHPSTAHPSTAHAHAHAP!” Zuko instantly broke into the most wild and ridiculous laughter as Sokka snuck one of his hands under his arm, his fingers spidering quickly against Zuko’s underarm in a way that drove the firebender crazy with ticklish laughter. Zuko instantly snapped his arms to his sides, trapping Sokka’s hand against his armpit while the man's other hand continued to scribble and send nibbling pinches all along his stomach.

“Admit it! Admit that I’m the best!” Sokka called over Zuko’s loud laughter, the sound of it making him smile like an idiot even as a few chuckles escaped him. Spirits, it really had been far too long since he’d seen Zuko let loose like this even just a bit. Maybe this was something they needed in their lives a bit more? It definitely wouldn’t hurt after all the droll and intense meetings they were forced to go to day in and day out.

Meanwhile, Zuko was dying. The Kiyoshi warriors were going to show up here to see that their poor Firelord had met his end at the hands of a ridiculous man who had a pension for coming up with truly terrible titles for things! Sadly he couldn’t dwell on his dramatic end as Sokka’s fingers were still attacking two of his worst spots. Zuko knew that there really was only one way out of this. “OKAHAHAY! O-OKAY I AHAHADMIT IHIHIT!” Zuko cried out with unrestrained laughter, feeling the tickling slowing down just a little to keep him giggling ridiculously.

“What was that? Are you trying to tell me something, buddy?” Sokka teased, his fingers wriggling lightly against Zuko’s armpit as the other hand focused on a particularly sensitive spot on the side of the firebenders stomach.

Zuko snorted and kicked his legs out weakly before nodding. “Y-yes! You… you’re the behehehest gah! Not thehehere! Not there plehehease! Agnihihi why-hehehe?!” Zuko giggled hysterically as Sokka found that spot on his stomach. Taking as deep a breath as possible he tried to once more to make his bid for freedom! “Y-You’re the behehehest drahagon slahahahayer! Plehehehase!”

Sokka’s fingers immediately stopped their torment, chuckling a bit to himself. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?” he teased, patting Zuko’s back as he helped the man sit up, watching the firebender wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes as residual giggles still managed to escape.

“Yes. Y-yes it was,” Zuko shot back, though as he turned to look at his friend, the smile on his face was more relaxed, even after the mini battle he’d just had to endure. “I can’t believe I… forgot what a… giant pain in the ass you were after you figured that out.”

It was Sokka’s turn to laugh as he heard that and he felt his smile growing all the more fond. “It was probably one of my greatest discoveries and I will cherish it forever! Not many people can say they bested the Firelord,” Sokka teased, lightly nudging Zuko with his elbow and getting a chuckle in response.

“That’s fair. But really? Dragon slayer?” Zuko asked, trying to earn back a bit of dignity as he attempted to straighten out his traitorous robes.

“What? It makes me sound so cool!” Sokka cried out dramatically, making it incredibly hard for Zuko not to roll his eyes.

“I’m still not convinced you didn’t try one of uncle’s teas,” Zuko murmured, though he smiled regardless. “And I hope you know that this is the last time the mighty ‘dragon slayer’ is going to win. I won’t be caught with my guard down like that again.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, Jerkbender?” Sokka teased, leaning closer and wiggling his fingers threateningly.

Zuko couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter as he pushed Sokka’s face away gently with his palm. “I’m too old for your nonsense,” he joked, making Sokka laugh brightly.

“Nah. We’re still young at heart. That’s all that matters,” Sokka said with a fond smile. “And if you ever forget that as well, I’m more than happy to remind you again about the days of our youth.”

Shaking his head, but with a fond smile on his lips, Zuko couldn’t help feeling that familiar warmth build in his chest. The world may be changing. They may still be working to right the wrongs and suffer through countless meetings and council members, but… with friends like Sokka there to remind him it was okay to let loose, laugh and remember that they really were still young at heart, he knew he could face anything.

Even dragon slayers.

#squealingsanta2k20 #tickle fic #my fics #zuko #sokka #atla #fluff #these two are precious #I hope you enjoy this my friend!

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kyber-crystal · 3 years

Text

fluff alphabet || poe dameron

a/n: for @jangohshit!! sorry this was so late—i thought it was queued already but oh welp ,.,.,., thank u for being literally one of the best mutuals anyone could ever ask for <3 also leia is peak mom material in this friendly warning :) angst to fluff thrown in, as well

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

we all know he’s the most affectionate person ever despite his seemingly intimidating persona—he loves giving you forehead kisses, back hugs, and picking you up and spinning you around when he gets the chance.

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

the friendship started because leia had introduced you to him. you ended up clicking right away and spent nearly every waking moment you had together to the point that the entire black squadron would joke about how you and poe shared one functional braincell (i mean, they weren’t entirely wrong). he’s very overprotective—one time you tripped and fell off a ladder while helping rey fix something and he was freaking out about it more than you were. and you were completely fine, asides from a few scratches. again, the squadron loves teasing him about his ‘mama bear’ persona that he develops when he’s around you

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

YES. poe absolutely loves cuddling. he’ll take any chance he gets to hug you—whether that’s hugging you from behind during meetings, running into your arms when reuniting after a mission, or wrapping his arms around you as you relaxed with him and the others by the campfire several nights. you rarely ever slept alone, it was always you sleeping together in yours or his room, and jessika or finn would have to run in and wake you up several times in a row because you got too comfortable and nearly overslept. in short, you and him are attached at the hip

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

it was a mutual agreement between you two that you’d settle down and get married once the war was finally over. you hadn’t had many opportunities to actually sit and talk about it so the conversation was often brought up late at night when nobody else was awake.

poe isn’t the greatest ever at being tidy, but he isn’t bad at cleaning up stuff when he needs to—and any messiness is made up for with his beyond amazing cooking skills. he’s constantly pressured week after week to cook for everyone because the first time he’d made something it was love at first taste. now he’s dubbed the ultimate pilot and sous chef of the resistance

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

if you had to break it off with each other, it would be because of the war. getting into a relationship while trying to fight for your lives could put you into a compromising position and poe hated knowing that he could lose you at any point. this ultimately led to a huge argument—coincidentally, right before you left for an eight week-long mission. there were many tears involved.

you wouldn’t get together right after you claimed victory, but instead, took time building your relationship back up again before finally doing so. there were no real hard feelings involved—it was just a matter of reconstruction :3

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

once poe is committed to something, he’s committed—he’s in it for the long run. of course, he wants to make sure you’re comfortable first before anything else—and in terms of marriage, he’ll probably wait about a year or two. nothing too fancy.

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

even though poe knows that you’re one hell of a fighter and can take practically anything that’s thrown at you, he’s very very gentle with you—same goes emotionally. he knows you’ve also been through a lot and makes sure to constantly remind you that you’re not alone and that if you ever needed someone to turn to, he’d always be here.

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

alright, this man NEVER misses an opportunity to hug you. hugs from behind, picking you up and spinning you around until both of you got dizzy, surprising you and then hugging you, holding you in his arms to help you fall asleep after a nightmare, you name it. you joke around about how you don’t need therapy when you have his arms within reach :)

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

he says it first. you recalled it being after you returned from a quick little recon with a few other pilots and ran straight into his arms (as always, because mans loves getting hugs from you yk).

“I love you.”

“I know,” you responded.

“I taught her that!” -han, shouting as he approached. “You really didn’t think to say hi to me first?”

“Dad.”

poe only laughs and kisses you again.

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

ooooof so when poe’s jealous, he doesn’t like to show it but you can tell when he is. it’ll be little death stares from across the room or tightening his arm around your waist, even if it’s another squadron member jokingly flirting with you

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

poe’s kisses are either very gentle or very passionate—it depends. he likes kissing you on the lips but he loves forehead kisses the most. it gives him a sense of protection over you and he loves knowing you’re his special person :3

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

the kids absolutely LOVE him. you always get this warm & fuzzy feeling inside whenever you see him interacting with the younger ones on base; sometimes he’ll catch you staring and just winks at you in response (this little shit KNOWS how he makes you feel and loves it)

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

it’s pretty relaxed most of the time (that is, if it’s the weekend or you’re on break) and poe likes to stay in and cuddle for a little bit before you actually get out of bed. if not, both of you are up at the crack of dawn LOL. you often start off the day with a relaxing morning walk around the base before settling down to eat :)

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

on nights that neither of you can fall asleep, you’ll go outside and stargaze. it’s a very soothing habit you’ve learned to develop and 9/10 times it has one of you (it’s usually you) nearly knocked out cold after just an hour or two. (poe also sees this as an excuse to carry you back inside in his arms)

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

poe’s naturally a very open person but there are some things he prefers to keep to himself. but once he fully trusts you he tells you everything—though this takes maybe a couple months or so.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

both of you are aware he’s the more impatient of the pair, although when it comes to you he doesn’t mind waiting. when putting that aside, his patience runs a little bit more thin.

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

alright mans knows you like the back of his hand. literally. like. the back. of your hand. everyone on base knows it, too—he remembers the smallest of things about you that even you don’t remember sometimes. this was the biggest giveaway for him that told everyone he was most certainly in love with you. you can guess who hosted your surprise birthday that one night after exegol : ‘)

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

your first kiss—not just because it was a first, but because of how it happened. it started pouring heavily as soon as you returned from a mission and everyone ended staying outside and having a giant water fight. while high on adrenaline, you jumped straight into his arms and before either of you had the chance to think, his lips were on yours and you were kissing underneath the stormy sky. everyone stopped what they were doing halfway and noticed, lowkey it looked like some scene from the notebook (arguably more romantic)

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

even though the two of you claim to share one braincell, poe is very very protective over you no matter how much you protest and claim you were capable of taking care of yourself. usually he’s the one who’s more freaked out about any injuries you get. other than you understood that you had to look out for each other and stick by each other no matter the cost—a promise you two intended to keep for as long as you possibly could.

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

a lot. he’s very, very extra. very. han pokes fun at him sometimes for it but he too, was initially like that with leia so he can’t really argue—so instead, whenever poe’s in need of help with planning stuff he’s off to the rescue : ‘) fam rlly went from “no, you are NOT dating my daughter” to “why haven’t you guys gotten married yet?” one time for your birthday, with the help of your parents and the entire black squadron, he put on an entire air show for you complete with firework displays, and needless to say you were head over heels that night.

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

he doesn’t sleep. poe has a very fucked up sleep schedule and often counts on you to remind him to get some rest—you found him working on his x wing one night and he told you he hadn’t slept in the past thirty-six hours—after which you scolded him and dragged him to bed. he ended up dozing off until noon 0_0

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

he’s not very concerned. though when he notices you staring or whenever you compliment him about his looks it does boost his ego :)

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

oh definitely. so much to the point that it has also become a joke among fellow rebels, even your parents (leia often tells you that she’s worried he won’t function properly unless you’re around and tbh she isn’t wrong lol). you’re his soulmate and other half whom he wouldn’t trade for the world

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

poe has the best taste in music. straight up. nobody argues nor complains when he’s in charge of music for the day, they’re always satisfied with whatever tunes he’s playing throughout the base and it puts everyone into a good mood

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

lack of respect. being inconsiderate. coldhearted. you’re thankfully none of these and for that very reason he’d chosen you—you’re everything he could ever ask for in a person

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

poe doesn’t snore, but he has a SOLID iron grip when fast asleep. “best friends always sleep in each other’s beds!” he’d claim as he crawled in next to you many nights and fell asleep hugging you very tightly. everyone knew it was again, an excuse to get closer to you. but you didn’t mind : ‘)

#listen i don't expect this to do well but i wanted to put some writing up on my blog bc i haven't done so in a whiiiiile #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron #star wars imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fluff #star wars fic #my writing #poe dameron one shot #star wars one shot #this was...cringey i'm so genuinely sorry RIP

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