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adarlingwrites · 3 years

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Muse

Summary:

You're a frustrated and starving artist, disillusioned with the world you move in. Transported to a new one, you unexpectedly find a muse.

Notes:

Last Boss/Artist!Reader. Protagonist is AFAB. Oneshot, explicit smut.

I just wanted to write something short, sweet, and self-indulgent because damn, I need a break. And um, our favorite tiger boy needs more love.

Your mind was in a dark place when everything changed.

No galleries had contacted you to put up your works there. Your art blog’s viewership is abysmal, all your commissions are still unfinished, and your bank account has dried up. Such is the life of the struggling young artist; no money, no connections, and no talent, as some may think.

Every piece brought from you is something you’re grateful for. Every like, share and comment you receive is something you treasure. And yet, when you see another artist garner more attention just because what they do is trendy, or because they have connections, you can’t stop the resentment from filling up your heart.

These days, your works can’t just speak for themselves. Art is becoming a game, a competition for who gets the most paintings bought from a show, or the most number of likes within a platform.

You hate the galleries. Most of the time, they’re boys’ clubs reserved for old, mediocre men whose swelling egos are easier to rile up than their dicks. They sell their paintings at ludicrous prices, market value inflated by the connections they have to the gallery and the pretentious bullshit they write in the descriptions.

You hate social media. You hate the algorithm, you hate how these online venues to share your work is geared in another’s favor. You’ve tried to play the game for so long, posting at peak hours and sharing your work shamelessly to your friends, but nothing seems to be working.

You’re envious.

Envy is such an ugly thing.

Galleries rouse it within the small, unseen artist, whose talents are hidden due to their lack of privilege, their lack of name. Social media capitalizes on it, thriving on competition, the number game warping a person’s psyche and perception of their worth.

Curling up in a ball in your bed, you’ve contemplated countless times if playing the game is still worth it. You just can’t keep up anymore. Each stroke of your brush and glide of your pen had your soul weaved in them, and no one seems to appreciate that because it’s not something anyone can put a price tag on.

Sighing, you drag your feet to the convenience store to buy yourself dinner with what little money you have left.

Then you saw it, the fireworks.

Life turned upside down for you within the span of hours.

Weeks later, you’re in a place called the Beach and sitting as far away as possible from the pool, sketching away on your notebook, odd ends of paper sticking out from it. You’ve survived another harrowing game, and you’re trying to wind down with a nice sketch session.

In this world, there’s no galleries, no social media. There’s no people to impress or market yourself to; just survival. There’s no money to be earned to keep living in this world, just visa days. Days of worrying if anything you’d create is worthy of anyone’s attention is replaced by the need to keep forging forward. But still, to keep yourself sane, you carried around pencils and paper, drawing and sketching whatever your heart desired.

In this world, your art is just for your own consumption, entertainment, and respite. Instead of being the thing that kept you up at night, it became something that saved you from the madness of this world.

The blaring music stopped, sound abruptly cut off as the speakers crashed.

Aguni’s militants have arrived, it seems. Per the advice of another Beach resident, you’ve done your best to steer clear of them. Yet, you still couldn’t stop yourself from getting involved with one of them, the one with the tattoos on his face and all over his body.

The first time you saw him, you found his appearance striking. The facial tattoos he had made him look tiger-like, and the katana he carries around with him just adds to the dangerous air he had about him. The fact that he almost always wears his hood up and the fact that he barely speaks add to the mystery surrounding him.

You’ve learned that nobody, not even their chief, knows his true name. They just call him Last Boss, because he looks like the last boss of a videogame.

It started innocently enough. You sketched him on your notebook, tall and wiry stature contrasting with the flow of the loose clothing he wears. Then the sketches multiplied the more you saw him in the games, and in the Beach. You’ve drawn him wielding his sword and finishing an assailant off. You’ve drawn him squatting on the balcony railing, surveying the Beach during his patrols.

Last Boss had filled your sketchbook pages. He became your muse.

Maybe it’s because he stood out to you, or it’s the sheer, unapologetic boldness his tattoos have. Either way, you were intrigued by him. Sometimes, you swore he’d stare at you back, but as soon as you look at him again, he’s looking someplace else. The little game you played thrilled you, thighs rubbing together when you see him. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t have impure thoughts about him; you’ve wondered just how much of his skin is covered by tattoos.

And yet, neither of you had spoken a word to each other.

It was your little secret.

But not for long.

In the lobby, you were heading back to your room after dinner to rest when you ran into one of the militants. He barked at you to watch where you’re going, and stomped away. The collision sent your notebook flying, paper scattering across the floor. Scrambling to collect them all, you crawled to find every single piece, only to bump into someone’s shins.

It’s your muse, Last Boss, and he’s found a page of your sketchbook.

“I- um, that’s mine. Thank you picking it up, I’d like to have it-”

The words left you when you realize that he’s looking at your sketch of him.

His eyes flick to you.

“Back.”

You gulped, unsure of how he would react to it. Wordlessly, he gives you back the piece of paper, and you nod at him, proceeding to pick up the rest of the pages. Embarrassed, you hurry back to the room you’ve occupied, and shut the door. Not like it would make a difference; all the locks are superglued, but it still provided you some relief.

A warm bath would be nice. It’ll definitely help melt the stress of today away.

Stripping, you entered the bathroom, soaping and rinsing the grime away as the tub filled with water. The splashing echoed in the room, and the bass pounded outside as the party raged on, making you deaf to other sounds that might register in your ears under quieter conditions.

You get in the tub, warm water soothing your sore muscles from the Spade game you participated in earlier, and your eyelids flutter shut. Engulfed by warmth, you drift off to sleep.

After an unknown amount of time, you awaken abruptly to the sound of footsteps in your room.

Quiet as a ghost, you listened carefully. The footsteps stopped, and springs creaking as a weight sat down on your bed followed after. After that, you hear the gentle rustle of paper.

As quietly as possible, you get out of the tub, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around your torso. Pushing the door open as slow as possible, you peer out of the bathroom to see who’s the intruder, and what you saw made your heart jump to your throat.

Last Boss is sitting at the edge of your bed, peering at your sketchbook. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he thumbs through the pages of the hardbound notebook, enthralled by the strokes you made on the paper. There were self-portraits, landscapes, portraits of people, figure drawing, and of course, some of them had him as the subject. Engrossed by the art, he doesn’t notice you.

Taking off the bathroom slippers, you walk barefoot, stepping out of the bathroom as quietly as possible. You were making good progress, inching away from the door, but your foot landed on a piece of paper, and you slipped.

With a thud, you land on your ass on the floor. The tattooed militant stands up abruptly, drawing his sword.

“Oh God, please don’t hurt me,” you yelp, one hand holding the towel around your chest into place, the other shielding yourself from him.

He sees you, then he lowers the sword, and tucks it away. Last Boss walks over, and you screw your eyes shut, but there was no pain that followed. His wiry fingers grasped your forearm and helped you get up.

“Thank you,” you whispered, averting his gaze. He towered over you, almost a full foot taller. You move to retrieve your sketchbook on the bed, but he doesn’t let you go. Gaze finally meeting his, you found yourself disarmed by the intensity of his eyes.

“W-what do you need?” you ask him, the tremble in your voice apparent. You’re still gauging his reactions. So far, he hasn’t done anything to hurt you, but he’s a militant. They don’t exactly have a track record for being gentle.

“You’re good. But you drew my tattoos wrong,” he finally speaks.

Eyes wide, you didn’t know how to respond, blurting out something incoherent. Then, you try to compose yourself. “Sorry. I never had the chance to look at you up close.”

“Would you like to?”

Breath hitching in your throat, you nod. “Let me just get dressed,” you say to him, but he still doesn’t let you go, eyes boring into yours. Behind his tattoos are delicate, handsome features that knocked the air out of your lungs. What stood out the most are his lips, small and well-formed, looking too soft for a man as dangerous as him.

Then you understood what he wanted.

Because you want it too.

You let go of the towel, leaving yourself exposed. But he stands there, frozen, as if he didn’t expect things to go his way.

Leaning in, you kiss him, wet body pushing against him, soaking his clothes. It started slow, and sweet, but then you experimentally dart your tongue out, and he lets out a low growl, opening his mouth to receive you.

It was sloppy and inexperienced, but the kiss hit the spot. You feel the fire pooling in your belly, pleasure shooting up your spine.

Throwing caution to the wind, you put your arms around him and his movements become more desperate, kneading and squeezing at your naked flesh, pawing greedily at every inch of skin he can get his hands on.

You toss your sketchbook to the bedside table and you hop on, pulling Last Boss with you.

Straddling him, you grind your hips against his, and he’s already hard under his trousers, making you smile against his lips as you kiss him more. Your hands guided his to your ass, and you pushed your chest against his face. Last Boss eagerly buries his face between the soft mounds of your breasts, and proceeds to latch on a nipple, hard from the cool night air.

You let out a soft moan, hands cradling his neck as he assaulted you with his lips and mouth. He unlatches from the nipple, then proceeds to leave kisses all over your neck.

Then, he lies back, and he pulls you over him, his head between your thighs.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, a little bashful because of his view of your body.

He nods, and he proceeds to lick your folds, making you gasp in pleasure.“Aim for the nub,” you instruct him with a soft voice, and he does as he says, licking at your clit with abandon. You rode his face as he licked you, movements sloppy.

Soon, you were reaching your peak and you braced yourself against the headboard. Thighs quivering, you came with a cry, riding his face as you climaxed, tits bouncing as your body shook.

As you come down from your high, abruptly, Last Boss flips you over, and now you’re underneath him.

“Don’t you want me to return the favor?” you ask him, smirking.

“Next time. I want you now,” he half-whispers, half-growls. The hard member pressing against you tells you that he’s serious.

You nod at him, and he proceeds to unfasten his belt, hands shaking from nervousness, or excitement, you didn’t know. It’s probably both.

He went in with a single thrust and you can’t hold back the cry that bubbled in your throat. Fortunately for you, you were wet enough for it not to hurt, but it still caught you off guard. He was slender, but that length… it made your toes curl.

Erratic and inexperienced, you had to guide him with his thrusts, and soon, Last Boss finds a steady rhythm, those penetrating eyes looking deep into you as you brushed the tattoo on his cheek with your thumb. You hook one ankle over his shoulder, and moan as the new angle allowed him to penetrate you deeper. Last Boss bottoms out, and he groans, rutting deep inside you.

You raise another ankle and pull him closer, and he’s pressed flush against you, hips desperately pounding away. The tattooed militant pins your arms above you and kisses you, tongues sliding against each other as filthy noises of your fucking filled the room. You suck on his earlobe, and whispers filthy, filthy things in his ear.

“You know, I’d been thinking about this for a while now,” you whisper, and he tilts his head.

“I always imagined you breaking into my room and just fucking me raw until I’m a mess,” you continue, and it seemed to spur him on, thrusts becoming more frantic as the seconds passed. “I’d never thought I’d get lucky tonight. Fuck, Last Boss, use me as you wish, I’m all yours!”

Last Boss didn’t need to be told twice. He fucked you at a brutal pace, sharp hips colliding with the soft skin of your thighs, and with a broken cry, you cum once again, your walls milking his cock.

“Please, please, fill me with your cum!” you cry as he continued.

It drove him over the edge. Soon after, he follows, coming with a loud groan. His body collapses on you, and he gives you another kiss, still sloppy, but it almost felt tender, something you didn’t expect from the sword-wielding militant.

The tattooed man lies next to you, and you curl into him, tracing his tattoos with your fingers.

“Can I look at more of your sketchbook tomorrow morning?” he asks, voice low and drowsy.

You smile, looking up to him. “Sure.”

Just when you’re about to drift to sleep, he speaks again. “Takatora. My name is Takatora.”

Smiling, you kiss his cheek, and say your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Last Boss is your muse. His attention, both to your body and your creations, is all you need.

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #imawa no kuni no arisu #last boss #takatora samura #last boss x reader #artist!reader #smut #fluff #fluff and smut #fanfic: muse #don't mind me just pouring my frustrations in this fic

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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holly's august extravaganza day 26: slowly becoming lovers

for sonia (@pragmaticoptimist34)! i have to confess something - i got so caught up in writing this that i actually forgot to include either of the other two prompts you sent me 🙈 i hope you like it anyway!

second confession - it was supposed to be longer and then it kind of got away from me so i had to draw a line somewhere oops

thanks to @ravens-words, @cosmiicmalex, @halsteadmarchs and liz (sorry, i don't know your tumblr!) for enabling me and to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing!

ao3 | 2.9k | falling in love, fluff, tiny, tiny hint of hurt/comfort, soft tarlos, set between s1 and s2

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

i. food preferences

“You have to be joking.”

“It tastes like soap, Carlos!”

Carlos groans and drops his head into his hands, shaking his head at this latest revelation from his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who has just made his life—or at least his cooking—a hell of a lot more complicated. “My mamá would have a fit if she could hear you now.”

He almost regrets the words as TK’s eyes alight with interest; he’s been dancing around the topic of his parents for a while now, but it’s not like he can deny what he said. His mom would be having a fit, or possibly attempting to kill TK with a wooden spoon, if she found out that Carlos’s boyfriend was not only a gringo, but one who hates coriander.

“I swear, you won’t even taste it when it’s mixed into the food,” he tries, because coriander is a staple of his cooking, and he can’t even fathom not using it.

But TK just levels him with a firm look. “Yes, I will, Carlos. I’ll always taste it.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s theatrics, but sighs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose I can—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as TK throws his arms around him and plants a noisy kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, grinning cheekily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos grumbles, but he can’t help but smile.

There’s very little, he’s finding, that he wouldn’t do for TK.

ii. nicknames

It slips out by accident one day.

“TK,” Carlos groans, followed by a gasp as TK moves just right, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. “TK, Ty—”

TK instantly freezes on top of him and Carlos’s eyes open, concern rising in him as he takes in the pensive look on his boyfriend’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” TK shakes his head and forces a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m good, I promise.” He ducks down to kiss Carlos again, but the mood is all wrong, and Carlos gently pushes him back, raising an eyebrow. TK holds out a moment longer, then sighs and rolls away, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid.”

Carlos tuts, reaching over to brush a hand through TK’s hair. “Bet you $20 it’s not.”

“Hope you have $20 then, Reyes,” TK says wryly. He looks over at Carlos and sighs again, biting his lip. “It’s just… You called me Ty.”

“Oh.” Carlos’s eyes widen and he props himself up on an elbow. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking; it won’t happen again—”

TK presses a finger against his lips, cutting him off abruptly. He smiles softly, then removes his finger and caresses Carlos’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he says. “More than okay, actually. I… I’ve always hated my name, but, I don’t know, I guess it sounded right? Like, when you said it? I think I’d kill anyone else who tried, but I really liked it coming from you.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because—”

Carlos is again cut off, this time by TK’s lips on his. TK moves so that he’s straddling Carlos again, hands pressed against his chest. “I’m sure,” he whispers, a grin playing at his mouth. “Now, weren’t we in the middle of something?”

iii. religion

Christmas sneaks up on him that year. Between helping the city recovering from the solar storm, work in general, the pandemic, and building his relationship with TK, Carlos has completely lost track of the months, until it’s a week before the date and he has nothing planned.

Really, it’s never been a big deal for him; he and his family used to attend mass and make an event out of it when he was a kid, but now he’s an adult, he’s often working, and he hasn’t been to church regularly since he was a teenager. But this year is different. This year, he’ll be spending it with TK, their first Christmas together, and he wants to make it special.

But he’s left it too late—nothing he orders online will arrive in time, the shops are becoming a nightmare, and he honestly has no clue where to even start. So Carlos resigns himself to another quiet Christmas, frustration and disappointment welling in him at the thought of telling his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out one night over dinner, the thought having been gnawing at him for days.

TK raises a brow. “For?”

“Christmas,” Carlos sighs, looking down into his stew. “It’s our first one together and I had all these plans, and then I just sort of… I didn’t forget! But things have been so crazy, and—”

He’s cut off when TK lays a hand on his. When Carlos looks up at him, TK seems to be fighting back laughter, which is confusing at best and potentially mildly insulting at worst.

“Babe,” TK says, grinning, “it’s okay. You might not believe me, but I forgot too. Christmas wasn’t really a thing growing up—my mom’s Jewish, so I used to celebrate Hanukkah on the years I stayed with her, and Dad was working more often than not. I don’t care, I promise.”

Carlos blinks. “You’re Jewish?” Surely he would know if… But they’ve never discussed religion before, and Carlos had kind of assumed TK had the same ideals as him about the church. In hindsight that was stupid and presumptuous, and Carlos can’t quite believe he’d do something like that. An apology is on the tip of his tongue, but TK just shrugs, going back to his stew.

“Half,” he says. “I don’t really practice anymore but I still keep the beliefs with me, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

TK smiles at him, and Carlos suddenly realises that this holiday season will be special after all, even if they don’t celebrate anything. Because he’s with TK, which is the most special thing in the world.

iv. how they sleep

Carlos has been sleeping alone for a long time. He’s had a couple of short-term boyfriends and the odd hook-up here and there, but he’s never had someone else in his bed regularly—certainly not regularly enough to get used to it.

TK was hesitant at first to stay over, but once he started to be more comfortable, it was almost a given that they’d be sleeping together whenever their shifts allowed.

And it had been an adjustment.

TK had warned him he tended to move around and be clingy in his sleep, but Carlos hadn’t quite understood what that meant, until now. He is, essentially, trapped under TK, his arms pinned to his sides and one leg thrown over his hip. TK’s head is pillowed on Carlos’s shoulder and his breath is fanning in soft puffs over his skin.

The only way he can move is if he wakes TK up, and there’s no way Carlos is going to do that. His boyfriend looks so peaceful, and Carlos is more than happy to be clung onto like a koala to a branch if it keeps that expression on his face.

In fact, he thinks he can get used to this very easily.

v. pda

In private, their days are filled with gentle touches and stolen kisses. Carlos will be cooking breakfast and TK will slip his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck. TK will be doing one chore or another and Carlos will brush a hand over his back or gently nudge him as he walks past.

But in public, it’s a whole other story.

It’s almost reflexive, the way TK reaches for Carlos’s hand as they’re walking down the street. It’s something they do all the time at home, and even with their friends, but this time, Carlos immediately tenses, seemingly automatically pulling his hand away.

“You okay?” he asks, frowning.

Carlos takes a deep breath, then obviously plasters on a smile, retaking TK’s hand—and TK can feel the tension in the gesture. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” TK gently lets go of Carlos and smiles reassuringly up at him. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with touching in public.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on me; I should have asked.”

“But—”

“But, nothing.” He carefully bumps their soldiers together. “You’re entitled to your boundaries, I’m just sorry for overstepping. Tell me next time, please?”

Carlos hesitates, but nods, a gentle press of their arms a silent acknowledgment of agreement and understanding.

vi. scars

Carlos, TK has noticed, likes to pay extra attention to his bullet scar. Whether it’s pressing a gentle kiss over it when they’re in bed, or brushing it with his fingers when wrapping an arm around him, it happens too often for TK to believe it’s anything but intentional.

He doesn’t understand it at first.

Then he discovers Carlos’s own scars.

“What’s this?” he asks, tracing over the thick raised scarring on Carlos’s side. It stretches along the curve of his waist and round his back, and TK has no idea how he hasn’t noticed it before.

Carlos cranes his neck, letting out a hum when he sees what TK’s looking at. His head flops back down on the pillow and he closes his eyes, absently stroking up and down TK’s sides.

“It was...three years ago, maybe?” he says. “I got stabbed on a call. They told me it was pretty touch-and-go for a while, but they fixed me up and I was back at work in a month.”

His eyes are still closed, body completely relaxed, but TK can’t take his eyes off the scar. He reaches up to his own scar, and he gets it.

Carlos’s eyes crack open. “TK?”

“I’m good,” TK murmurs. He breaks his gaze from Carlos’s abdomen and smiles at him. “We both are.”

And if, after that day, Carlos notices him paying more attention to that scar, he doesn’t say anything.

vii. penguin or panda

“You’re out of your mind!”

In Carlos’s defence, a zoo date had seemed like a good idea. He knows TK loves animals, and he himself grew up around them, so in theory, a trip to Austin Zoo should have been the perfect time to get to know each other better while enjoying the day.

Turns out, TK has some very strong opinions on animals, and is willing to budge for absolutely no-one.

“I can’t believe you think penguins are cuter than pandas! I mean, look at them, Carlos!” He gestures emphatically to the panda enclosure, where one is napping on a log. It’s pretty cute, Carlos has to admit, but…

He shrugs. “But remember when the penguins were all huddling together?”

TK makes a noise of outrage, and Carlos has to laugh, then some more at the wounded pout he gets for it. “Is this really a thing for you?” he asks. “Like, is this going to be the dealbreaker for us?”

TK folds his arms and levels him with a stern look. “That depends,” he says. “Meerkats or koalas?”

And, just because he knows it will rile TK up more, Carlos grins and answers, “Meerkats.”

(They don’t break-up over it, but Carlos isn’t so sure that TK will be forgiving him any time soon.)

viii. special interests

“Say you could go back to a moment in history, but only once,” TK says, out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence of the front room. Carlos stops carding his fingers through TK’s hair and looks down at him, curious. “Where would you go?”

Carlos opens his mouth, but TK doesn’t give him a second to answer. “Is it cliché if I said I’d go to Stonewall? I mean, I’d really like to see dinosaurs in the flesh, or—oh! I was, like, obsessed with pirates as a kid; I thought they were the coolest things ever, and I pretty much idolised Anne Bonny. But I’m pretty sure I’d die immediately if I went to either of those places, so…”

He trails off, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m boring you.”

“No!” Carlos rushes to say. “No, you’re not. I love history, I just… What makes you ask?”

“It’s something we got into at the station earlier. Mateo brought it up first, I think?”

Carlos hums, pursing his lips in thought. “I guess…” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s too hard. There’s so many places I’d want to go and people I’d want to meet.”

“But if you had to pick?” TK pushes, sitting upright and looking at Carlos with interest.

“I really want to meet Eleanor of Aquitaine, but if I could only go to one place…” He hesitates and thinks it over some more, but then his eyes catch on the masks hanging along the stairway, and he’s sure. “Tenochtitlan, but before Cortés arrived. It was a whole society, and I just think it would be so cool to see it up close and to know what it was like first-hand. I mean, I’ve read a lot of books, but we don’t have much from the Mexica people, a lot is from the conquerors, and—”

Carlos stops and huffs a laugh. “Now I’m the one boring you,” he says, but TK shakes his head, eyes bright.

“Tell me more.”

ix. coffee order

TK accepts the coffee without even thinking about it, even taking a sip before he realises he never told Carlos what his order was. He curses himself but resolves to drink it anyway; TK isn’t too much of a coffee snob, and he’s certainly not going to reject anything his boyfriend brings him.

He takes a second sip, and he’s so caught up in making a mental note to tell Carlos next time that it takes a minute for the taste to register. And…

It’s his order.

He looks sharply up at Carlos, who is smiling into his own coffee—therefore dispelling any notion of this being an insanely good guess. “How did you know?” he asks, bewildered.

The tips of Carlos’s ears turn pink, but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he looks up at TK. “Our first real date,” he says. “You mentioned that this was your go-to order.”

And TK can’t do anything but stare, because their first date was weeks ago, and Carlos still remembered, and it’s just…

He thinks—no, he knows—he’s falling in love.

x. fears

“Weirdest fears, go.”

TK has to laugh at the perplexed look Carlos sends him at the question, the straw of his boba hanging out of his mouth. Now that they’ve figured a sort of rhythm out between them, they decided to try the boba place again—there have been no emergencies or disasters so far, so TK is counting it as a win.

“Come on,” he continues. “Last time we were here, you said we barely knew each other—which was true—so now we’re going to fix it.”

Carlos’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “By telling each other our weirdest fears?”

“Exactly!” TK grins. “I’ll go first if you’re too chicken. Mine is slicing my hands open or cutting some fingers off with ice skates.”

“What?” Carlos breathes, disbelief all over his face. “I’ve never been ice skating but I’m pretty sure your hands aren’t supposed to go anywhere near the blades.”

“I didn’t say it was rational.” TK sips his boba, raising an eyebrow at Carlos. “Your turn.”

Carlos swallows, suddenly very interested in the table. “I, uh. When I was a kid, my Tía Lucy had a snake get into her pipes. She only discovered it when she went to the toilet one morning and it was just...sitting there in the bowl. I was terrified for years that the same would happen to us, and it’s kind of become a reflex to check.”

“Oh my god.” TK can’t help but burst out laughing, even though he feels bad for it as Carlos covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a real thing for you, I just…”

But Carlos’s shoulders are shaking too and, bizarrely, TK really does feel closer to him now.

It’s a good feeling.

xi. long-term commitments

Carlos is surprised when TK is the one to bring it up first.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks one day, head in Carlos’s lap, staring up at the ceiling.

Carlos pauses the show he’s technically supposed to be watching and quirks an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Sure,” he says. “What about the future exactly?”

TK hesitates, and his voice comes out a lot quieter when he next speaks. “Like…” He sighs, a small flush rising on his cheeks. “The future. Our future. Us. Maybe...marriage, or…”

He trails off, practically whispering by the end of it. His gaze has shifted from the ceiling to the frozen TV screen and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, body stiff with tension. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Forget about it.”

But Carlos is learning to read TK, and he knows he was looking for reassurance. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “I think about it. Do you?”

TK stares up at him, wonder in his eyes. “After New York, I thought… But yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They share a smile as they lock eyes, and Carlos knows that they’re on the same page here. That, distant though they may be, both of them can hear wedding bells in their future.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #holly's august extravaganza #pragmaticoptimist34

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

In the Mountains - cth

summary: who would've thought hiking with the boys would have ended up being so eventful? as the fifth member of 5sos with a crush on a certain bass player, you’re about to find out.

author’s notes: thanks to @calumspupils for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist || request

You didn't really know how you'd gotten to this point in your life. How you had ended up in a band with four people you'd give the world to, it all still seemed like a fever dream. Most mornings you'd wake up either on a tour bus or in a hotel room miles from home wondering if this was your real-life and it wasn't until you were sat at breakfast with your bandmates that you realized how grateful you were for the twists and turns that had led to your crazy life.

Some days you'd play shows and feel like you were on top of the world, rocking out on stage with your best friends. Some nights the views from the airplanes you'd grown used to being on took your breath away for so long you were afraid you'd actually imagined it all. That all the cameras flashing and fans screaming out lyrics you'd written with the four guys on stage next to you were a figment of your imagination and you'd wake up one day to find it all gone.

"Hey, I know you don't love hiking but...I'm sure we'll make it fun," Calum's voice rang out in the car, bringing you back to the moment at present, "And I'll be there to tell you all the jokes and point out cool rocks," he said with a wink.

Calum Hood. You'd turned your head to face him, the California sun was hitting his skin and making him glow. His bright smile adorning his face as the sunglasses he was wearing slid down his nose to reveal those brown eyes you'd fallen for. His soft voice and gentle teasing bringing warmth to your stomach that always seem to linger whenever you two were alone. It was something that you thought you'd kept to yourself, a little secret, but the comments online only left you a blushing mess.

If you were being honest, you'd been in love with Calum since the first months you'd spent with the band, getting to know each other and making sure you'd be a good fit into the group. those weeks had been filled with outings together where all five of you would spend hours on end telling stories about growing up and then laughing over how the internet blew up when they introduced you to their fanbase. But those few weeks were also spent trying your best to not make a fool of yourself in front of Calum, who seemed to always be at the right place whenever you stumbled or when your voice would crack while you were practicing alone.

You two had clicked instantly, both stuck to each other's hip as you took on the world. You'd write together, spending hours on a couch drafting out possible songs and humming along to tracks that had potential in matching the band's sound. You'd even become neighbors at one point when you'd first moved into the city to be closer for band work. He'd helped you move into the apartment next to his and you'd spent many weekends at each other's place, laughing over the awkward silences when you'd both caught each other glancing for a few seconds too long.

So you were in love with your bandmate, your best friend, with Calum Hood. How bad could it be?

Apparently, very bad. You and Calum had never been the subtle type and although you both pretty much knew there was more than friendship between you two, no one made a move to make it more. Ashton had asked you once when you two had gone out for lunch after a studio session.

"I just can't understand why you two haven't already gotten over it and got together. You'd thought about it, he's thought about it. Just do it," Ashton huffed, shaking his head as he watched you tense up and shake your head.

"The band is what's important, Ash. We can't let our feelings get in the way of fucking up what all five of us have created. He knows that and I do too," you'd replied, laughing quietly as Ashton only shook his head and mumbled something under his breath.

But Ashton was always one to try and make others happy in his own special way. And that's how you found yourself in the car with Calum on the way out of the city for a hike you were less than excited about. You knew Ashton was up to something when he'd texted the group saying that you and Calum would have to drive to the trail together since you wouldn't fit in his car with Luke, Mike, and their partners. As a form of payback, you'd purposefully told Calum to pick you up thirty minutes after the original time to make sure you were the last ones to get there because there was nothing more than Ashton hated than being late. And that's how you found yourself driving out of the city with Calum, lost in your own head over how beautiful he looked.

"Mhm, you always make things fun," you chuckled and winked back at him, "We're gonna need it especially now that we're late and Ashton will definitely kill us."

The hike had gone surprisingly good considering three of you were not the most athletics and Luke and Michael had constantly been racing seeing who could go the farthest faster. Ashton had tried his best to keep everyone on track until you and Calum had teased him about being the mom friend as he'd set up his phone on a rock to shoot an update video for fans to let them know about the band had been up to. It had all been going according to plan until you moved closer to Calum and twisted your ankle, ending up on the floor staring up at the blue sky.

"Oh my god, I'm going to die. Just leave me here to die because I'm not making it," you cried out, "This is the end of me!"

In a matter of seconds since your back had hit the ground, four familiar faces hovered above you, one of them looking more concerned than the others. The pain shot through your spine and down your leg, your eyes closing as you tried to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. Soon enough you found yourself being lifted up from the ground and a warm body pressed against your back. You could hear all the guys fighting over what to do, which meant your ankle wasn't twisted backward since none of them had screamed or puked their guts out. Their voices all mumbled into one as you breathed through the pain and it wasn't until Calum's warm breath was hitting your ear that you felt yourself take a deep breath in and open your eyes.

"I'm gonna stay here with you until Ash and the others can get a ranger to bring a car or something like that, okay?" he mumbled softly, his hand rubbing at your back as he helped you sit back against a rock.

"Please don't let my leg fall off, I need it to run on stage and to kick Michael when he steals my food," you whined.

"That's not gonna happen, okay? I think you just twisted it and it's all going to be okay, sweet girl," Calum mumbled and kissed your forehead, "Promise."

The sun was still high in the sky by the time you started thinking Ashton had left you both in the desert. You'd both been sitting on the ground together, watching as your ankle grew and grew in size as the time passed by. The pain had dulled and your head was resting on his shoulder when your brain had started to think of the worst.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you were Australian. Us Aussies are known for our athleticism," Calum chuckled as he nudged your side with his elbow, "It's a well-known fact."

"I can do a better Australian accent than all four of you," you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you smacked his thigh, "And I can outrun pretty much all of you except Ash."

"Except right now."

"Calum Hood, I swear if you don't stop making fun of me-"

"What? Are you gonna hit me again? I dare you-"

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the heat of the sun beaming down on you both. Or maybe the fact that you were thirsty since Michael had taken the only backpack with water with him before you two realized it but Calum's lips looked very nice and it took no self-restraint for you to lean in and stop him mid-sentence.

"Maybe you should twist your ankle more often, huh?" Calum chuckled as you both pulled away, "Or bully you more often."

"Shut up and kiss me again, idiot," you laughed and pulled him back in for another kiss.

"Who knew all I had to do was get you two alone on a hiking trail for you to finally kiss, huh?" Ashton's chuckled made you both pull away, making you both look like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh shut up, I'm never going on a hike with any of you again," you huffed and gratefully took the park ranger’s hand as he helped you on to what looked like a golf car.

It was a short trip back to the medical center, where they treated your very swollen ankle with ice while you downed all the water you could get your hands on. But you were grateful that Calum hadn't left your side once, his hand in yours as you squeezed it whenever you'd hit a bump or when the park ranger wrapped your ankle. His hand was still in yours as you both drove back to the city and it never left yours even when you both laid on the couch in his living room that night, drifting off in each other's company for once accepting that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just stolen glances.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @notinthesameguey

#calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood x reader #5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos x reader #calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #gemma writes

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oakleaf--bearer · 3 years

Text

@jonmartinweek day two - injury!

also on ao3

When dealing with matters of the heart, Jon was about the furthest from a natural that there could be.

He was... rusty to say the least. Awkward was a generous way to put it. Completely and utterly useless was far more accurate.

So when Georgie had laughed and asked when he and Martin had started dating, he had been understandably taken aback and politely asked her what she meant by that. ("Georgie, what the fuck?" had been his exact wording). She'd shrugged and patted his knee, telling him that he should probably talk to Martin as soon as he got back to the Institute.

He stared down at the ring sat on the table, a frown creasing his forehead. It had been something of a whim purchase. He had bought it several years ago after reading about the concept online, and he'd just....not taken it off. Every time it left his hand, he'd itched to put it back on as soon as possible.

And now, a blistering burn mark on his hand was stopping him from putting it back on. A small, mostly insignificant piece of his identity stripped back and taken away from him.

A gentle knock at the door startled him out of his quiet contemplation.

"Hello." Martin poked his head around the door. "Tea?"

"Thank you, Martin."

Martin smiled, and Jon remembered Georgie's assumption. Would he? It wasn't the most unimaginable thing in the world. Martin was friendly. Charming, comfortable, welcoming. But dating? Maybe... But Jon had done dating before. He'd explained what the ring in the table meant to enough people that he was tired. Tired of the assumptions, the questions, the idea that there was one person out there who would change his mind, all he needed was a good-

Martin wasn't that person. When Jon ran through the mental 'relationship checklist', he could imagine so many different aspects with Martin. Holding hands, going on dates, even waking up next to each other, but that particular facet of a relationship was completely unimaginable. It wasn't that Martin was unattractive, simply that Jon just didn't see the attractiveness like that.

"What's that?" Martin gestured to the ring.

"Oh, uh, nothing." Jon covered it with his good hand. "Just a- nothing."

"Riiight." Martin placed the tea on his desk, in easy reach. "Keep your secrets then."

"Hmm." Jon hummed, still examining Martin's face.

"Jon? You alright?"

"Oh!" Jon realised he was staring and quickly looked away. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Martin said with an audible smile that made Jon's heart do something ridiculous.

"Martin..." Jon didn't really know what he was going to say. "Are you- I- Hmm."

"Take your time."

"Have lunch with me. That is, if you want to, please don't feel like I'm pressuring you, you can say no if you-"

"Jon." Martin put a hand on his desk, gentle, a calming reminder of a calming man. "I'd love to."

Jon stared at the hand. It was larger than his own. When he'd arrived back in the archives, trailing blood and exhaustion behind him, Martin had sat and re-wrapped the clumsy bandages he had put on it, patiently telling him off for not going to a doctor and getting it checked. Jon hadn't been able to look away from his hands then either, just gazing at them with sleepy eyes, his mind fixed on the image of Martin taking care of him. Carefully picking up the pieces he had left flung about the place and putting them back together, gently slotting them back into place.

Martin took him to a sandwich place around the corner from the institute. Jon stared at the menu, trying to decipher the swirling font. The letters swam slightly as he read them, the words jumbling together.

“Jon?” Martin bumped their shoulders together lightly, bending down to Jon's height to compensate for the difference. “What are you going to order?”

“I- What do you recommend?”

Martin smiled. “Hmm. How about the tuna and sweetcorn? It’s a classic, you know?”

“Sure.”

Martin ordered for them and nudged Jon towards a table in the corner. Jon went willingly, content to listen to Martin chatter away about the wait times and the various bouts of people-watching he had gotten up to in this cafe. Despite Jon’s lack of contributions, Martin seemed to be fine carrying the conversation on his own. A couple of people gave them odd glances, no doubt wondering what Martin, kind, gentle-looking Martin, was doing with a grumpy sack of exhaustion. Externally, they didn't match. They were diametrically opposed, two entities that shouldn't exist in the same space without causing some kind of epoch changing event.

But the more Jon pondered it, the more he realised that he wanted to be here, sat opposite Martin, listening to him talk, letting him order his sandwiches and hold his hand-

Jon’s brain skipped a beat.

Martin had placed his hand over Jon’s where it rested on the table and was staring at him, concern across his face. “Jon? You okay?”

‘I care about him’, Jon realised with a start. ‘This is my friend.’

Martin nudged his hand around so that he could properly take it in his own. The motion dislodged the ring that Jon still held clutched in his bandaged fingers. It clattered out, its black outline stark against the faded beige of the tabletop.

“Oh, sorry.” Martin picked it up to hand it back to Jon. “You might want to be a bit more careful. You don't want to lose this.”

“What?” Jon stared down at Martin’s hand. It felt ridiculous to see Martin holding out his ring and for Jon to feel this weightless. The gentle curl of Martin’s fingers around the band set Jon’s mind whirling down avenues lined with graffiti reading ‘Just tell him’ and ‘Maybe it will go well’.

Jon took a deep breath and took the plunge.

“I’m sorry, Martin.”

Martin blinked. “R-right? What for?”

“All of it.” Jon reached out and covered Martin’s, still holding Jon’s ace ring up in front of them. “You were always- I’m glad you're here. With me.” He carefully took the ring and let go of Martin’s hand. It looked shockingly sad sitting in the palm of Jon’s bandaged hand. Another piece of who he was now associated with pain. An uncomfortably familiar reality that Jon was steadily becoming used to.

Martin reached across the table and gave Jon’s hand a quick squeeze. Jon hissed at the jolt of pain lacing up his arm.

“Oh god, Jon, I’m so sorry, I didnt- I didnt think, that was stupid of me-” Martin’s hands fluttered in the air around Jon’s. “God, that was awful of me, I’m really sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Jon said, grabbing at Martin with his uninjured hand. “It’s fine, it's already passed.”

Martin gave him an apologetic smile, but didn’t argue. “That’s important to you, huh?”

“Hmm?”

“The ring. I’ve seen you wear it a lot. Does it mean something?”

“Oh.” Jon hadn't considered the possibility that Martin might be aware of the ring's existence. In his head, it existed in a bubble, separate from work and his colleagues. It made sense, he supposed, that Martin was able to see into that bubble, since its edges had been bumping against Jon’s perception of Martin for a little while now. “It, ah, its a- Its a sexuality thing.”

To Martin’s credit, he didn’t even blink at the idea that Jon might not be straight, just nodded and smiled encouragingly. “I thought so. Asexuality, right?”

“Wha- Yes.” Jon had been gearing up to explain the intricacies of asexuality, not for Martin to already have that knowledge.

“It came up when I was doing research trying to figure out my own sexuality.”

That caught Jon off guard. For some reason, throughout all of his deliberations trying to figure out where on Jon’s internal spectrum Martin sat, he had failed to consider the actual real life possibility of Martin’s queerness. “You’re-”

“Oh, I’m not ace.” Martin shook his head. “At least, I don't think so. Labels,” he chuckled. “Confusing stuff. I usually just go with gay and trans to sum me up.”

A small, overlooked lightbulb in the back of Jon’s mind flickered to life as a couple of pieces of information fell into place with a quiet ‘oh!’

“I saw the ring but I didn't want to ask in case it was just a style thing. A lot of people don't know about this stuff and it's sometimes hard to tell, you know?”

“Right.”

“I guess the bandages stop you wearing it, right?” It was a non-sentence, a piece of idle observation that Martin was making. But it still stung.

“It feels somewhat ridiculous to say but- I think I’m going to miss it. It’s just a ring, it's not my entire sexuality, I’ll still be ace without wearing it, but I’m still- It feels like I’m missing a piece of something that I was trying to hold onto, you know?”

Martin nodded. “I understand. Here-” he reached up and unclasped a thin chain that had been hanging around his neck. “You can borrow this. I’ll take these off for now.” He slipped off a couple of charms that had been hanging on it. Smiling, he held out the chain.

“You- You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Martin wiggled the chain in the air between them slightly. “You can give it back when your hand is better.”

Wordlessly, Jon took the chain and looped the ring onto it. He lifted to try and fix the clasp around his neck, but he couldn't get the clasp open. Martin pushed his chair back, coming to stand behind Jon, taking the chain out of his hands and closing the clasp for Jon.

“There.” Martin smoothed Jon’s collar down. “That looks nice!”

“Thank you.” Jon whispered, then louder, “Thank you, Martin. This- This means a lot.”

Martin shrugged a little awkwardly, cheeks turning red. “No trouble. It means a lot to you, so, you know, you should be able to carry it with you.”

He smiled down at Jon, and once again Jon felt the small jolt of recognition, of comfort. The bubble in his mind fully merged with Martin, creating something new that, at least for a few more long, exhausting months, Jon didn't know to call love.

#tma #the magnus archives #my fics

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dramioneasks · 3 years

Text

HP FESTS: For The Love of Fests (Part 1)

Love at Second Sight January 2021:

Second Time's the Charm by floorcoaster - T, one-shot - The first time Hermione sees Draco Malfoy again, she's in for a surprise.

Influence by Misdemeanor1331 - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione bump into each other at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Draco thinks it’s a chance encounter. Hermione knows it’s anything but.

The Love Boat by Seakays - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger and her two best friends are embarking on a week long "Divorced Magicals" Cruise. Hermione took advantage of the Cruise's pre cruise chat room, where she met Scorly1203. After six months of texting, she has agreed to meet him on the first day of the cruise. Could she really find a second chance at love on the Lido Deck?

Second Time Lucky by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - During a trip to Weasley Wizard Wheezes, what do you do when presented with a second chance?

In Vino Veritas by beautyberry - M, one-shot - "Granger?" he asked disbelievingly. "Malfoy?" she asked, "What are you doing here?" Rated M for mentions of sex.

The Art of Second Chances by Blessedindeed - not rated, one-shot - A chance encounter at the museum brings up unresolved feelings

What Lies Beyond the Light by SlytherinHermione - M, one-shot - The thing about prisons is that it tends to change a you. The person you were when you went in, will not be the person that comes out. Sometimes for the better, oftentimes for the worst. For Draco Malfoy, the scales were tipped when a certain lawyer forced themselves onto his case with the start of one letter. A letter that turned into the type of correspondence where you end up baring your soul to a stranger. A stranger that ends up knowing every little part of you, from the darkest corners, to the sunniest fields - while barely knowing you at all. But then again, Hermione Granger was never really a stranger to begin with.

Silly Love Songs February 2021:

This Beauty By My Side by Amarillis39 - M, one-shot - My entry to the Silly Love Songs Fest. ____ "But as he watched her glide through the crowd, he decided he would take every second she would give him. Worthy or not, he was still a selfish git." ___ It's another stuffy gala at the Ministry and Draco is overcome with conflicting feelings as he watches Hermione in her element.

The Light That You Shine by SlytherinHermione - M, one-shot - Draco was adrift. All around him was an endless, unforgiving ocean, dull and grey in colour. The waves kept crashing in on him. Back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes he felt like he’d been cursed to remain like a graying tower, alone on the sea. This all changed on a random cold winter day and a bright light. Because what followed the light was as unexplainable as the feeling of calm that suddenly enveloped him. He felt a twinge of something that he couldn’t explain. On the other side of the sidewalk stood Hermione Granger, more beautiful than he could remember, locking eyes with him for a second, as if she herself was caught with him inside of this time bubble filled with light and large, fluffy snowflakes. And with a blink of an eye, she walked the other way, as if this was just another Monday. As if she hadn’t just turned Draco's world up-side down. The tumultuous oceans that surrounded his untethered soul were full of waves, but now of a different kind.

Discord by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “I’ve seen your darkest, and it doesn’t scare me. You’ve become something so much more.” She placed a gentle kiss on his jaw. “I love you, dark and all.”

Time to Spare by Willowfairy - M, one-shot - Draco gets drunk enough to finally tell Hermione how he really feels, and once he starts talking he finds it impossible to stop.

Sometimes When We Touch by sodamnrad - T, one-shot - What if Hermione and Draco were dating when he took the Dark Mark? Submission for the Silly Loves Songs Mini-Fest One shot | Draco's POV | Sixth Year

To Be With You by Blessedindeed - not rated, one-shot - Her ability to show forgiveness intrigues him. Draco finds he has a soft spot for Hermione.

Masquerade March 2021:

Punch Line by tygermine - E, one-shot - Hermione seems to hide behind multiple masks.Draco wants to remove them all.

A Deadly Dance by MykEsprit - T, one-shot - An unexpected guest arrives at the ball. Dramione.

Ask it of Me by WritingFicariously - T, one-shot - Hermione has always had the ability to chase away demons, the darkness that twists his mind into believing he is not good, never enough. She sees and knows every part of him. But Draco has always kept one thing from her, one secret that he never dared say aloud. Until he did.

A Masquerade of Body and Soul by Annav94 - M, one-shot - She’s here to escape the reality, to break the rules. She is here to break the rules because all rules have only given her, is false hope. She turns her head and her eyes meet his. He’s there for the catch of the night. And while he finds himself smirking, smiling at the unforeseen turn of event, he wonders if truly Hermione Granger is flirting in a room full of witnesses with none other than himself - the infamous Draco Malfoy.

Imbolc by CosmicCthulhu - G, one-shot - Hermione celebrates the beginning of spring for the first time, years after the war. She's not the only one who wants a fresh start.

Suit Up by calico_kitten - M, 2 chapters - Gawain Robards has cooked up a new idea for the Departmental Hallowe'en Ball: comic book hero disguises!

This Mask I Wear by SlytherinHermione - T, one-shot - This mask I wear feels cool on my skin. I slip it on, and the act is ready to begin.Safety. Protection. Freedom.

Lover of Fiction April 2021:

3 Words, 8 Letters by sodamnrad - T, 2 chapters - “Do you like me?” Draco’s flitty looks, his tart remarks about her feelings for Blaise, the way he’s following her around instead of chasing an eligible witch who isn’t pining over his friend is extremely telling.“Define like.”Her mouth unhinges. No effing way. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”“How do you think I feel?” He glares at her. “I haven’t slept. I feel sick like there’s something in my stomach, fluttering.” He presses a hand against his belly, as if he’s experiencing the sensation at this very moment.“Butterflies?” she deadpans. “No. No, no, no this cannot be happening.”“No one is more surprised or ashamed than I am.” He gestures to himself, lifting his chin tersely.“Draco, you know that I adore all of Earth’s creatures and the metaphors that they inspire,” she says as her hand forms a crushing fist, “but the butterflies have got to be murdered.”---Draco & Hermione: Their Story (2000s TV Drama Style)Dual POV | 2 Shot | Idiots in Love

The Ambition by In_Dreams - M, one-shot - After ten years at sea, Captain Hermione Granger has a ship and a crew of her own. But one of her new crew mates is a blacksmith from her past. Dramione Pirates AU.

Jitters by TheMourningMadam - M, one-shot - This was written for the Lovers of Fiction mini fest for April. Thank you to QuinTalon for being a gracious host in this fest.My prompt was Jamie and Claire Fraser from Outlander. If you have never seen Outlander, why not? You at least need to watch their first time to see some hot and bewildered Jamie. This is a tiny snapshot into what would be a much larger story, so please take it at face value.Also, I finished this story right at the wire, so didn't have time for a beta. All mistakes are obviously my own and I apologize. Bold sentences are word for word from the tv show.

I Meant Something Like That by CharliPetidei - M, WIP - “You know what’s funny?” said Hermione, crossing her ankles and leaning forwards on the slightly peeling leather sofa. “When I first saw your advert online… I thought you were Hufflepuffs.” The three men opposite her exchanged glances, and then the tall, platinum blond one (it had to be dyed, right?) with the funny name leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. Draco, that was it. “You thought we were what?” A New Girl Dramione AU.

The One Where Everyone Finds Out - Dramione Edition by Annav94 - T, WIP - Don’t we all know what happened when Phoebe finds out about Monica and Chandler in season 5 of Friends? Well, what would then happen if it was Draco and Hermione to be discovered by Pansy? Would then Theo try to calm her down, in the hope that she would stop screaming so his boyfriend (Harry bloody Potter, of all people) would be prevented from finding out about them is such crude way? And would Blaise go along with the scheme the two Slytherins would come up with to push the new couple to expose itself or will he be done with all the ‘pretending’ of not knowing, when he knew all along?Stay with me on this journey called: ‘The One Where Everyone Finds Out - Dramione Edition’.

The Dragon's Moving Castle by SlytherinHermione - T, WIP - Hermione Granger had accepted that her life wasn't going to be a great big adventure.She wasn't particularly beautiful, or interesting, and she hadn't been born with magic like her sisters. Really, she was just as plain as could be.One day though, a castle was seen rolling around the hills near her town.Not long after, she met a strange, handsome, and mysterious man.And she was cursed by the Wicked Witch of the Wasteland.Perhaps life was an adventure after all.

Lanky Brunettes with Wicked Jaws by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - “You’ve got types?”“Only you darling.” He put his hand under her chin and brought her around to face him. He pulled her close with his arm held tight against her. His head to the side of her own, he grinned. “Lanky brunettes with wicked jaws.” A gentle kiss placed against her jaw. She smiled, a blush prettying her cheeks as she pulled back.

Reader, I Married Him by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “Why must you?” he questioned as he pulled himself forward, using the rough pads of his fingers he gently touched under her chin, dragging her gaze to his own. “You know why!” She wrenched her chin from his grasp. “You are to be married, Malfoy.”

This fest is ongoing.

#fests/exchanges/challenges #for the love of fests

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 3 years

Text

It Was You (Part One)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3371

Series Warnings: break up; angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

The slight chill of a Vancouver December morning roused you from a peaceful sleep, making you snuggle further into the down blanket and comfort of your plush bedding. It was two weeks until Christmas and the weather was supposed to be a balmy high of 32 degrees today, so you had planned to stay in, do some shopping online, and stay by your cozy fireplace with every holiday movie you could find. Willing yourself to get five more minutes of shut eye seemed like a helpless feat as the wintry cold seeped into your apartment. You opened your eyes to the gentle prisms of light floating in through the adjacent window, the sunrise indicating it was time to get up for the day.

Sitting up to perch on the side of your bed and grabbing your wide-rimmed glasses from the nightstand, you slid your chilled toes into the warm slippers waiting and shrugged on your fuzziest sweater. It may be time for that fire sooner than you thought.

Padding into your kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix after last night’s dinner and drinks with the rest of the cast and crew, you took your favorite mug from the cabinet and loaded the coffee maker, making an extra cup or two for you and any visitors you might have a bit later.

Jensen’s apartment was down the hall, and if you knew him, he’d still be sleeping, but he’d probably wander over at some point this morning. Cradling the mug in your hands warmed them slightly and sent a shiver down your spine. Even your warmest pajamas and the heat from the thermostat did little against the Canadian winds. Laughing slightly to yourself, you’d thought you’d be used to it after six years of winters here.

You wandered towards the windows of your living room to pull back the long curtains. It was a favorite spot to have your coffee and gaze at the sights of Vancouver. Settling on the window seat, you felt a warmth spread through you as you noticed it had snowed in the night, and from the looks of it, it was a depth of fresh, soft powder – a type that you rarely saw growing up in Texas. People were bundled up tightly as they walked the streets, but a few people, adults and kids alike, were already out playing in the thick blanket of snow.

As your coffee began to warm you through, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of joy that rose at the sight – it made the holiday season and the spirit of it even more intense than just viewing the lights of downtown and the large decorations everywhere. For some reason, snow just sealed it all up in a nice little bow.

Sure enough, about halfway into your second cup of coffee, you heard a key in your door and Jensen shuffled in, still wearing his pj’s with tousled hair, but he had thrown on a thick sweater too.

“Good morning.” You called, still seated at the large window.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He replied with a quick wave as he tossed his keys on the counter and waltzed into your kitchen in search of his mug, his voice still thick and gruff with sleep.

He mixed his cream and sugar and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh after the steaming liquid entered his body. He was notoriously grumpy without his coffee, but he always met you with a sweet greeting when he came over. Walking around your kitchen island and into your open living room, he slumped into the recliner across from you and pulled the leaver to release the footing, allowing him to lean back with his feet up. He adjusted himself to get comfortable, careful to not spill the mug in his hand.

“What time did you get in last night?” you asked, taking another sip from your own cup.

He covered his eyes with his free hand, still obviously tired. “About 2:30. You know how Jared gets when we break for hiatus, he never wants the party to end. He was still talking to me as I was shutting my door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Jared was the most social person you’d ever met and knowing that he wouldn’t be back to Canada and on set for a month, he would always soak up every little bit of time he had with the cast and crew. Even though Jensen was griping about it now, you knew he also didn’t mind. He’d probably be missing everyone, especially Jared, about four days into the break. You didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., and that was only because you were beginning to doze off in your cocktail.

“Tell Cliff thanks again for driving me home last night. I just couldn’t cut it.”

“Yeah, I know… Lightweight.” Jensen teased.

“Hey, you didn’t have a 5 a.m. set call yesterday like some of us.”

Jensen huffed a small laugh from his seat, still resting his hand across his closed eyes. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and his green Henley stretched across his biceps as he rested his coffee on his thigh. A slight 5 o’clock shadow and the bedhead he was sporting all combined into a handsome image. He may be your best friend, but you could still appreciate the looks the man was blessed with.

Seemingly close to falling back asleep, you called to him in a hushed voice, “Jay. If you want to go back to sleep just put your coffee mug on the table, okay?”

“Hmmmph. No, I’m up.” He fibbed, as evident from the way he blinked widely once he opened his eyes again. Forcing himself to stand, otherwise he would really fall back asleep instead of just resting his eyes, he walked towards you with his cup, dragging his feet slightly as his legs sluggishly pulled him across the room. His head was down and his shoulders were wilted, but he was trying to get his body moving.

When he reached you, you felt his chest bump your shoulder before he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, his arm dangling by his side as he slumped. He took a deep breath before rubbing his hand across your back and standing, smiling as you peered up at him with a grin.

Licking his lips, he finally peered out to the streets below and his eyes went wide, “Y/n!” he practically shouted.

You flinched, “What? What’d I do?”

“You didn’t tell me it snowed!”

Giving a huff and a giggle, you couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “I’m sorry, was I supposed to while you were falling asleep in my chair?! Besides… it’s Canada. It’s not like snow is very rare here.”

“Y/n! That’s, like, snow! The kind we used to wish for when we were kids!”

“I know, I thought that too.”

“Well, c’mon!” he said, setting his cup down on the ledge. “We gotta go!”

“What? Go where?”

Jensen was already halfway through your living room and heading for the front door but paused to turn and point a finger in your direction, “You, me, snowman. Now.”

“Jay,” You whined. “It’s cold and its early. You sure you don’t want to just watch Netflix?”

“Y/n!” he said once again, looking as excited as a 12-year-old on a snow day from school. “Snowman! Please?” he begged, waving his arms frantically as he gestured outside.

“Okay, okay. Fine. No need to use your puppy eyes on me. I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes.”

With that, a huge grin broke out on his face and he took off down the hall, leaving you to go in search of your heaviest ski jacket.

Jensen knocked on your door soon after you shrugged into the puffy coat, dressed in thick snow pants, his own jacket, and a black beanie and gloves with a small bag in his hand. Straitening your scarf before locking your door, he barely gave you a moment to put on your knitted pom beanie before he was pulling you by your hand towards the elevator of your building and pushing you out of the revolving doors into the frigid air. Heading to the side where a large park sat adjacent to your complex, he looked around before tugging you along to a spot with a large open space. He nodded to himself, as if to say he’d found the perfect place for his snowman-building escapade. As your boots crunched beneath you, you each began gathering handfuls of snow to make a large base, then packed and sculpted two more spheres. Though you initially protested, you had to admit that it was fun, and the coldness against your cheeks wasn’t bad after a bit, particularly after seeing how happy Jensen was when his finished product towered over yours. He’d managed to gather the majority of the snow within about a six-foot radius of where his snowman stood before piling it high.

“Hey, hey… look at that. An accurate height difference!” He touted, teasing you.

“Oh, hush you. It’s not my fault that you were given the extended version of the human body.” You glared at him playfully.

He laughed as he bent to rummage in the bag he’d brought, producing two carrots. He wiggled them in his hands before handing one to you. He was just about to place it in a very telling place when you grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in his direction.

“Jensen!” You berated. “That’s not where the carrot goes! There’s kids out here!”

He stood up slowly, turning to you with a serious smirk, “Did you seriously just throw a snowball at me?”

Wiping your hand on your pantleg quickly, you gave him a mischievous grin, “Who, me? I’d never.”

“Oh, its on!” he declared as he bent to scoop up the little bit of remaining snow in his reach, that which he hadn’t used for his snowman.

Ducking behind your own, he threw and missed, sending the snow flying passed you. A quick grab from around you produced another snowball that you chucked from behind your shield, hitting him square in the chest. The fight lasted for a good while, the two of you trying your hardest to target the other as many times as possible and receiving some laughs and glances from passersby as they walked along the sidewalk. Finally, Jensen gave up and took off towards you, chasing you in circles before he tackled you into the plush ice, pinning you beneath him as he tried to bury you both.

“Jay! Oh my God, stop! Its freezing!” you yelled through your laughter.

“Truce?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He was still on top of you, his nose and cheeks a bit flushed from the wintry air. He still had that devilish smirk on his face, but his green eyes were soft and something beneath them made your heart flutter slightly in your chest. He scanned your face quickly before glancing towards your lips, but you were quick to snatch another fistful of snow to smash onto his head. Scrambling out from underneath him, you ran as he said something about you being a cheater before he jumped to his feet.

After the war ended and a truce was finally declared, you both put the finishing touches on your snowmen after you found sticks for the arms and coerced Jensen to put the carrot in the right spot. He stood back proudly, admiring your handiwork.

“Hey.” He gestured to you, “C’mere.”

A bit warry that he was going to tackle you again, you came to his side as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and turned on the camera. Pulling you into him, he said, “Gotta have evidence of our masterpieces.” He reached around your waist and tugged you in close, framing both of you and your snowmen in the background. The cold air made the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks change in color, and there was still some snow in your hair from when Jensen wrestled you, but both of you smiled widely. Feeling the scruff of his short beard against your temple and his arms wrapped around you made you think about the way his eyes danced across your face moments ago, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he stepped away from you slightly after he made sure the picture wasn’t too blurry.

“Oh, crap. Is that what time it is?” he said, alarmed, looking at his phone screen. “I have to meet Stacy in an hour.”

Stacy was his publicist and agent, but he usually didn’t meet with her during the hiatus. “You’re meeting Stacy today? What’s up?” you asked, a bit confused.

“She wants to talk to me about this movie. Some sort of romantic drama she thought I may be good for.”

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s great! You didn’t tell me! Would you have to cut back filming the show?” While you were a bit surprised, you were genuinely happy for him.

“Stacy knows Supernatural comes first, so I hope not.”

“Well, let’s get inside so you can warm up and change. I was going to make my mom’s chili and cornbread for dinner tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting.”

The excitement on his face was palpable as his eyes lit up the moment you said it, “You know how much I love your mom’s chili. We’re just meeting for coffee near her office, so I’ll bring the beer.”

As you were walking back into the building, your phone rang. It was Stephen, your boyfriend of three months.

“Stephen, hey.” You said as you entered the elevator, not missing the slight eyeroll that Jensen gave.

“Hey, honey. How are you? I didn’t want to call too early, just in case you were still sleeping after last night.”

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, just got done building a snowman with Jensen.”

A short silence followed, until Stephen spoke up again. “Oh, that’s nice.” He said, his voice noticeably clipped. “Well, I’m going to take my lunch break soon. Would you like to meet up? I can come to your side of town.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you at that café on 3rd in about a half an hour?”

“Sounds great. See you there.”

Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you ignore Jensen’s stare as the elevator climbed to your floor.

“So…” he pressed. “Stephen?”

“Yeah, Stephen. We’re going to meet up for lunch while you have your meeting.”

“Hmph.” He huffed.

“Jay, we’ve known each other our whole lives and to this day you’ve never liked a single guy I’ve ever dated. What’s wrong with Stephen?”

“I don’t know. He’s just kind of… meh.”

He wasn’t lying, if you were being truthful. Stephen was meh. He was cute and had nice eyes and dimples, but he didn’t make you laugh. He was a bit dull and your sense of humor didn’t mesh with his well. Still, you thought that it might get a bit better once you got to know each other and began to understand one another more. Your relationship was still very casual, but maybe it could go further? You weren’t really sure, honestly.

“What about you and Laura?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I told you… that was nothing.” He quipped as you reached your door. “We went on like three dates.”

“Yeah, the last one being just this past week.”

“Yeah, and it just didn’t go well.”

You let out a small sigh. Discussing your dating lives wasn’t really something the two of you loved to do with each other. Maybe when you were teenagers, yeah. You’d asked each other for advice and gossiped a bit about the people in your high school, but as you grew into adults it just became a subject you both steered away from besides the occasional, hey I’ve got a date conversation. Neither of you had ever really found a person that the other approved of, each finding a reason to be picky every time.

“I’m sorry, Jay. I’m just deflecting.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was pushing.” He said sincerely with a small smile. “Well, you enjoy lunch. My meeting’s at 1:30 across town, so I should be back by 4 at the latest. Pick out a movie for us, okay?”

“Sounds great. I will.” With that, he kissed you quickly on the side of your head and went into his apartment as you ducked into yours. You freshened up quickly and changed, grabbing a different peacoat, hat, and scarf as your others were still wet.

It was a short walk to the café, and they had good sandwiches. You were surprisingly hungry, so you were glad to see Stephen waiting outside for you. He gripped your hand tightly and gave you a quick kiss in greeting before leading you into the restaurant. You were seated and ordered quickly, knowing that he would have to return to work soon.

“So, how has your day been?” You asked as you shrugged off your coat, hanging it on the chair behind you.

“It’s been… good.” He muttered.

“Uh oh,” You said, getting his attention as he looked away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really. I was just surprised to hear that you were with Jensen today. You had mentioned you were going to stay home.”

Stephen smiled, almost in an attempt to let you know that he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but you could tell it bothered him.

“Yeah, when he saw it snowed last night, he just really wanted to make a snowman.” You laughed, trying to steer away from the subject. Stephan wasn’t overstepping, but he also wasn’t going to prevent you from spending time with Jensen. The two of you had been inseparable since, well, practically since birth. Your parents had been the best of friends, so you were pretty much raised together.

“Have you, um…” Stephen began, hesitantly. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but have you ever had feelings for him?”

His blue eyes shown with a slight jealousy as you felt a slight pang to your heart.

“No, of course not.” You managed to say with a steady voice and a smile as you picked up your napkin to place in your lap.

It was a lie, one that you’d been telling for years. At one point in your life, you were in love with Jensen. But, the past was in the past. If Jensen didn’t even know, why should Stephen?

Stephen seemed satisfied with your response for the most part, and the two of you had a pleasant lunch. When you stepped away to use the restroom, your phone chimed. Stephen tried not to even look towards your side of the table where your phone sat, but when he saw Jensen’s name, he read the text quickly before the screen dimmed.

Hey, sweetheart. Finishing up here soon and then I’ll be heading home. Do you need me to grab anything from the store?

Stephen knew the two of you were a package deal, and thought he could honestly be alright with it, but between working together and spending practically all of your time together, he was starting to wonder where he fit in in your life. He busied himself by checking his Instagram as he thought about what he should do and found that Jensen had tagged you in a photo from this morning. The caption was simple, just a few words about the filming hiatus and the first snow of the season, but the two of you were so close. Stephen found himself wishing that you could reserve a smile like that for him, but he had yet to see it.

It hurt, but he knew he couldn’t play second fiddle to Jensen. He cared about you, but perhaps it was better to bow out now.

“Hey, sorry about that.” You said brightly as you got back to the table, smiling. It still didn’t reach your eyes, though.

Stephen leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh, “Y/n, I think we should talk.”

To be continued...

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frenchbreads-writing · 4 years

Text

Enji’s Gratitiude {Endeavor | Enji Todoroki}

Anonymous: Hi, I was wondering if you'd be fine with doing an Endeavor x Male Reader where the reader is already engaged to Enji, but not many people know? Shouto is cool with him and greets him when he comes to be a guest teacher/sub for Class 1-A. I'm bad at explaining lol.

Hi everyone! I’m so sorry that it’s been over an entire MONTH since I last posted. I’ve been struggling finding motivation to write and with my classes starting online I have less free time which sucks ass.

So here’s one of my requests I feel like I deviated from the original idea?? Idk but anyways

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Endeavor x Male reader

Words: 2.1k (2,112 )

Warning(s): None

Requests: 3/5 slots

(Y/H/N)= Your hero name

Masterlist

Rules

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

Ever since the incident at Camino, it was normal to see a different teacher during All Mights Foundational Hero Studies class. But the class never had the same substitute twice.

Mostly because the teachers were active pro heroes that had to do their jobs.

You were one of these substitutes today.

You were walking down the hallway to the teachers’ lounge after kissing Enji goodbye at the gate said man has been working late for a while now it was.. concerning, to say the least.

You were thinking of ways to help Enji when you spotted Shouto walking to class.

You rushed over to him and slung your arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, kiddo!”

He stiffened before relaxing when he realized it was you.

“Hello, (Y/N) good morning.”

You rolled your eyes ‘Always so serious’

“How’s life been treating you lately?”

You hugged him closer to you as you pulled him along the hallway.

“I’ve needed help with homework lately and my b-friend Midoriya has been helping me.”

A splash of pink appeared on his cheeks.

“So I guess other than that it’s been fine. How about you?”

You noticed his slip up but didn’t comment on it. He’ll tell you about it when he’s ready.

“It’s been fine but your father has been hounding me about being ‘more professional’ in his agency.”

“I don’t want to act all buddy-buddy with some stuck up interns.”

You sighed.

“But I guess it’s still kind of my job.”

You saw the teachers’ lounge coming up ahead so you pulled away from Shouto.

“This is my stop you should get going to class.”

Shouto nodded as he waved goodbye.

Walking through the door you were immediately wrapped up in cloth.

“You’re late.”

You looked up to meet a pair of tired eyes staring back at you.

“Sorry about that Shouta, I got held up on the way here.”

He sighed as he unraveled the cloth and handed you a folder.

“Here’s your lesson plan and I also assume you memorized the student roster?”

You nodded and grabbed the folder but couldn’t take it from his grasp.

“Dude I can’t study the lesson if you don’t give it to me.”

“I forgot to mention something.”

You looked at him expectantly.

“The bell rings in 5 minutes.”

You paused processing what he said.

“W-what?!”

“If you run you could probably make it in time.”

you cursed and immediately bolted out of the room.

Present Mic leaned over to Aizawa.

“Wait, class doesn’t start for another 20 minutes.”

A grin spread on Aizawa’s face.

“I know.”

You had just made it to the door when you felt your phone vibrate. Pulling it out revealed that you received a message from Enji telling you to pick up some stuff from the market before heading home. But what caught your eye was the time.

15 minutes left until the bell.

You groaned and bumped your head on the door. You had to meet the students anyway and you were already there so you might as well do it now.

Stepping into the room all of the talking ceased and the students’ eyes were on you.

“Hello, I’m (Y/H/N) I’m going to be your Foundational Hero Studies substitute for this week. If any of you have any questions for me don’t hesitate to ask I won’t bite… Much.”

Several students shouted their questions at once.

“Woah! Calm down you guys one at a time please!”

But it seemed that your plea fell on deaf ears.

Iida jumped from his seat to the front of the class arms up frantically chopping the air.

“Everyone settle down the teacher is trying to gain your attention!”

That did the trick now they’re back to looking at you.

“Thank you, Iida.”

He nodded and went back to his seat.

“Now you can ask me a few questions but please raise your hands first and I’ll choose one of you.”

The class was quiet for a moment before several hands were raised.

You pointed towards the blonde with a black lightning bolt printed in his hair.

“Where are you from?”

“Tokyo, it’s really nice there.”

A girl with pink skin and horns jumped up.

“What do you like to do for a hobby?”

“I like to cook, spicy pork dumplings are my favorite.”

Shouto raised his hand, what could he possibly want to know?

You pointed to him.

“Can you make cold soba for dinner tonight?”

You hummed.

“You got it, oh and also, your dad asked me to pick up some stuff from the store on the way home do you want to come?”

He nodded.

The rest of the class was in confused silence.

“Wait, are you.. dating his dad?!”

Kaminari yelled.

“No actually, he’s my husband.”

The class erupted into shouting.

“How long have you and Todoroki’s dad been married!?”

You thought for a moment.

“Our 1 year anniversary was about a month ago.”

Everyone looked at Shouto and he nodded.

And once again the class began shouting.

You sighed, this was going to be a long week.

You groaned as you pushed the front door to your home closed it with your foot, slipping off your shoes at the door and walking into the kitchen placing the groceries on the counter.

You went into your room and slipped off your hero suit replacing it with comfortable baggy clothes.

Shouto had changed his mind about going shopping to stay after school with Midoriya so you had gone shopping alone. He promised to be there by the time dinner was ready and nighttime patrol was more troublesome than usual.

“I can handle dinner.”

Hearing Fuyumi’s voice caused you to turn and face her.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded

“Dad’s in his office.”

You thanked her and walked past her.

Knocking on the office door you waited until you heard a gruff “Come in.” Before quietly sliding the door open.

You were met with Enji slumped over his desk writing away on what must be reports from his hero agency.

You simply watched him from the doorway before walking up behind him and wrapping your arms gently around his neck placing a soft kiss on the base of his skull.

He stopped his writing to sigh and lean into your touch.

Enji pulled away to spin his chair around.

Now that you were able to see his face he had dark circles beginning to form underneath his eyes. He had always worked hard but now that All Might has officially retired and he is now the number 1 hero he’s been pushing himself even harder so he can fill the space All Might left.

You placed a hand on his cheek, caressing the scar that marked the left side of his face. He leaned into your hand placing his hands your waist gently pulling you onto his lap.

Leaning forward you pressed soft kisses on his scar slowly moving lower kissing the corner of his mouth before pressing a deep gentle kiss on his lips.

Enji sighed through his nose as he pulled you closer.

You pulled away from the kiss and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“You should take a break, Fuyumi and I will make dinner and Shouto will be here in a while.”

You were about to stand up when he pulled you closer burying his face into your chest breaths uneven and hands shaky.

“Just, a few more moments.. please?”

You didn’t answer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him tight.

He may have been a brave, strong hero. But even he needed comfort.

You hugged him until his breathing came out slow and even and his hold around your waist loosened.

“Thank you, (Y/N)”

He looked up at you and you met his gaze.

You smiled and patted his cheek.

“I’m always here if you need me, now.”

You pulled away from him.

“I need to help Fuyumi with dinner. Go rest I’ll come get you when we’re done.”

Enji watched your form retreated through the door and sighed.

He stood up and made his way to yours and his shared room and laid down sinking into the soft mattress.

His gaze drifted to a framed picture resting on the nightstand.

You had smirked with your middle finger up while Enji simply glared at the camera.

That was the first real picture you had taken together that wasn’t an awkward angled photo taken by the paparazzi.

‘I don’t deserve him.’

He thought to himself.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

You had just finished dinner when you decided to check on Enji.

He was out like a light on the bed.

You smiled and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

You ran your fingers through his hair massaging as you went.

You wished he didn’t push himself so hard but he was a stubborn man but then again you were just as stubborn when you’re passionate about something you care about.

And right now, you just want to help Enji as much as you could.

You stared as his features before gently shaking him awake.

He groaned and peeled his eyes open.

“Dinner’s ready, Shouto and Fuyumi are waiting for us at the table.”

He nodded and moved to stand up.

The two of you made your way to the dining table Where Shouto and Fuyumi were quietly chatting and sat down.

You immediately joined them in conversation while Enji quietly began eating.

Having dinner alone with his children always lead to silence and a tense atmosphere but with you there, you bridged the gap between them allowing them to connect. Even just a little.

No one mentioned it but they were all grateful.

You were the reason their relationship has been improving slowly but surely.

The only one who has been reluctant to repair the relationship had been Natsuo.

But you made it clear that he didn’t have to forgive his father if he didn’t want to. You merely encouraged him to be civil and recognize the change Enji had gone through.

And when he inevitably started crying from frustration and anger. You held him even when he began sobbing out loud saying how much he hated him.

You simply told him that’s fine and it’s his choice to do what he wanted.

Since then you and Natsuo talked over the phone sometimes and when he visits he sits near you or his siblings.

It seemed that you were a missing piece in the Todoroki family.

Dinner went smoothly, Enji even had a few decent moments with Shouto and Fuyumi before conversation died down and dinner was finished and everyone cleaned up and went to their rooms.

Enji slipped out of his shirt as soon as the door closed while you plopped down in the middle of the bed.

You held out your arms beckoning him.

He quietly slid into the bed lying on his stomach and placing his head on your chest.

The two of you sat in silence with nothing but the sound of breathing and your heartbeat in Enji’s ear.

“Thank you.”

You simply smiled and asked:

“For what?”

He thought for a moment.

“For being here and helping me even though I don’t deserve it.”

Enji turned his head to face you.

“You make me want to be a better person I had made such a terrible mistake and I wouldn’t blame you if you had decided to turn the other way. But you stayed and you push me to become a better person every day. And for that I’m grateful.”

You were at a loss for words.

The most emotionally vulnerable he’s been was when he confessed his deeds to you.

But right now he was being so earnest and looking at you with so much love in his eyes, It was a bit overwhelming.

You felt tears prickle in your eyes but you wiped them and hugged Enji closer to your chest.

You were glad to have made a positive change in his life.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You laid your head back and felt Enji resume placing his head on your chest.

The two of you laid there basking in each others’ warmth.

It was when you were on the verge of unconsciousness when you heard Enji speak.

“I love you so much.”

It was just a whisper obviously not meant to be heard by you. But it melted your heart nonetheless.

“I love you too, Enji.”

The two of you fell asleep, content, and at peace, knowing the two of you meant the world to each other.

#frenchbread's writing #enji todoroki #todoroki enji #enji x male reader #todoroki enji x male reader #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #endeavor x male reader #endeavor x reader #enji x reader #enji todoroki x reader #todoroki enji x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #FBW Enji’s Gratitude

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

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Tears of Themis: Lu Jinghe’s Birthday - 6.13 “Decision to Compete”

Translation Masterlist

Event Story: 6.13 Decision to Compete | 6.15 Personal Instruction | 6.17 Building Block Dolls | 6.19 Participating in the Competition | 6.21 Birthday Celebration

Event Story Interviews: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Art Gallery Boss: Young miss, all pieces displayed at the Rembrandt exhibition this time are priceless authentic versions. Your request is very…

MC: But he really is my very special friend. Just like you, boss, Rembrandt is also the artist that he holds in highest esteem.

Not long ago, I found out that June 21 was Lu Jinghe’s birthday. To give him a birthday surprise, I came to Stellis City’s antique art gallery, where they were about to hold an exhibition on authentic Rembrandt works.

With Lu Jinghe’s current identity, if he were suddenly appear in a well-known art exhibition, aside from garnering attention, it might also cause additional problems. So, letting him enjoy the works of the artist he so admired without disturbances should be an excellent idea. After a sincere, long conversation, the boss finally agreed to rent out the venue for me before the exhibition opened.

Art Gallery Boss: You absolutely must be careful – do not bump into or damage them.

MC: I will be careful, don’t worry.

After confirming the venue, I opened my notes, checking over the other things I needed to prepare.

MC: Cake… I’ll order taro mousse, but what should I give as a gift? Watches, leather belts, ties? Lu Jinghe definitely isn’t lacking on these.

I logged into the shopping app, and “Today’s Main Recommendations” on the gift recommendation page caught my attention.

MC: These are… building blocks?

On the product pictures, hundreds of building block components piled together, creating a flowing, miniature city. In an instant, the scenes of what happened at the Lu Mansion played in my head…

Three days ago.

Lu Mansion

Lu Jinghe: Careful!

In the Lu Mansion, gift boxes of all sizes were piled up, making it easy to trip if one weren’t careful. Good thing Lu Jinghe caught me in time.

Lu Jinghe: Jiejie, you’re too careless.

MC: It’s clearly because you have way too many gifts here. So is it almost your birthday? Otherwise, why would so many people give you gifts?

Lu Jinghe: Sure enough, I can’t hide anything from you. There’s still over half a month until my birthday, so those people came running over in a rush.

MC: “Those people” are…?

Lu Jinghe: Past business targets, children of other major families, plus some entertainment stars. Lots of people want to get in on the Lu family’s good graces.

MC: (As expected of Lu Jinghe – even his birthday’s got to shake up all of Stellis City.)

Seeming like Lu Jinghe had seen through my thoughts, he laughed quietly.

Lu Jinghe: So… shouldn’t you also send me a gift?

MC: Lu Jinghe, you’re not lacking on gifts, are you?

Lu Jinghe: For those sent by others, of course I’m not lacking on them. But ones sent by you…

MC: Ahem ahem.

After receiving Lu Jinghe’s hint, I faked a cough. Turning my head around, I saw the “main offender” that had just tripped me. This was a meticulously-wrapped box of building blocks, with modern-looking buildings printed on top, with “limited edition” written on in conspicuous text.

MC: Lu Jinghe, you play with building blocks?

Building blocks were a toy invented by the Austin family. They became popular worldwide as soon as they were launched, and now have nearly a hundred years’ worth of history. If they didn’t suit someone’s tastes here, toys like this would not appear here.

Lu Jinghe: I have played with them before – someone probably remembered that up until now. Although, I haven’t played with them in a long time.

MC: Why?

Lu Jinghe started to speak, then stopped, a troubled look emerging in his clear eyes.

Building Blocks Room

MC: So many… did you build them all?

Lu Jinghe took me to a room on the second floor of the Lu Mansion. What appeared before my eyes were innumerable building blocks models. From rich, colourful flower fields to the little roads of a foreign country’s streetscapes – there was even a proportionate reconstruction of Stellis University.

MC: Amazing! You must have spent a lot of time to make so many works, right? You’re so talented, so why didn’t you continue?

Lu Jinghe: Because…

Lu Jinghe walked to the French windows, sinking into a short silence. Golden sunlight shone on his side profile, creating a dappled light effect.

Lu Jinghe: On certain levels, I can no longer continue creating with building blocks…

MC: (What… Certain levels means…)

Lu Jinghe: My mother passed away right after I was born.

Lu Jinghe slowly began to speak, his voice quiet. I suddenly regretted asking a little.

MC: If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t need to force yourself. Everyone has their own secrets.

Lu Jinghe: It’s fine. I have no secrets in front of you.

Lu Jinghe’s words were indescribably gentle, but my heart felt like a little like it had been yanked.

Lu Jinghe: Though I lost my mother, my father and older brother loved me dearly. Compared to others, I’ve never been lacking in anything. I even had more than them. Until I noticed that for both oil paintings or building blocks, I couldn’t create anything related to “family”…

MC: (How could that be… Speaking of which, “Z” has indeed never made anything related to “family”.)

Lu Jinghe: Are you feeling sympathetic? Looks like not being able to create “family” is no big deal, because it’ll at least make you sympathize for me.

MC: … Lu! Jing! He!

I faked anger, but my sad feelings had been swept away by Lu Jinghe’s seemingly joking words.

Lu Jinghe: Alright alright, don’t be sad. I thought about it after – perhaps I can’t create anything with a “family” theme because I’ve never had a major female figure around me, ever since I was little. If…

MC: If what?

Lu Jinghe: Ahem ahem… nothing.

MC: …

After coming back to my senses, my fingers slid over the screen.

MC: Since Lu Jinghe likes building blocks, I’ll send him a building blocks set as a gift. Although… which set should I send?

Home

To find a suitable gift set, I looked up lots of information online related to building blocks after getting home. Among them, an article titled “The first Stellis Building Blocks Competition will be held soon” caught my attention.

MC: Building blocks creator Mr. Austin’s out-of-print posthumous work – the “Future” series’ first public reveal; only one set worldwide. Cabin in the woods, a glass flower room, and an open-air art studio that faces the mountains. This work is called… “Future Home”?

Note: “Home” and “Family” are the same word in Chinese.

MC: (This set… looks like one that Lu Jinghe would like.)

I couldn’t help thinking of joining the competition, but I froze after scrolling to the next article.

MC: “Z” will appear at the building blocks competition as an evaluator, and many fans have signed up… “The Shepherd Girl” may become a competition topic.

MC: (Lu Jinghe’s going?!)

The theme of this competition was “World-Famous Artworks”, where people were to reconstruct world-famous artworks using building blocks. With Z’s works being so famous, becoming a topic of the competition wasn’t out of the question.

MC: (If he really is an evaluator, my participation will definitely be exposed, and I won’t be able to give him a birthday present.)

But would Lu Jinghe really appear in public under Z’s identity? Though this might be something made up by the hosts, I still decided to call and ask Lu Jinghe, just in case.

Lu Jinghe: Hello?

MC: I-it’s me.

Lu Jinghe: What’s the matter, did something happen?

MC: Nothing, I just wanted to ask – do you know about the building blocks competition being held next month? I heard that “Z” was going to be a competition evaluator.

Lu Jinghe: There’s actually this sort of news, huh. The host probably was probably afraid of being low on hype and let out fake news. If you’re suddenly asking this… did you want to participate? Then I can teach you for free.

MC: (Since Lu Jinghe’s not going, getting taught by him is indeed the best introductory method.)

MC: Is that alright?

Lu Jinghe: Of course. If you need it, I always have time. Besides, after today… Z’s appearances may become very rare.

MC: ?!

MC: I-is it because of Pax?

I brought up the guess I had. Sure enough, Lu Jinghe signed almost inaudibly on the other side of the phone.

Lu Jinghe: Yeah, balancing studies and Pax already expends too much of my energy. After graduating, similar impediments will only continue to increase. To an artist, it’s really easy for these sorts of conditions to cut off creativity, so…

Lu Jinghe’s voice had an exhaustion in it that was impossible to ignore.

MC: Lu Jinghe, if you’re working too hard, you can stop for a bit and rest.

Lu Jinghe: … I understand. But unfortunately, no one will give me time to rest. Before being “Z”, I am first and foremost Lu Jinghe of Pax.

After hanging up, Lu Jinghe’s words echoed in my head.

MC: So many people clearly like “Z”. Can Lu Jinghe really give it up?

MC: Right! It just so happens that lots of “Z” fans will be participating at the building blocks competition. I should gather some things that they want to say to “Z” and give them to Lu Jinghe! Even if he really can no longer create in the future, the fans’ encouragement would be memories worth treasuring.

That night, I submitted a registration form on the building blocks competition official site, as well as an application to interview the participants to the hosts. After registering, a participant list, including methods of contact, was sent to my inbox.

MC: (Next, I’ll practice building blocks as I interview people for what they want to say to “Z”.)

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #lu jinghe #marius von hagen #tot translation

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bronwiebear-brad · 3 years

Note

Giiiiirl! Listen this I know u only write about Bradleyboy but I see that u fancy the holland boys and haz 😏😏 (who doesn't right?) so pleaseeeee write something with them, pleaaaaaaaaase 🥺love you writing so much it would mean the world for me 💛

A/N: You all know that I cannot resist my sweet anon’s requests, so consider this an early christmas gift. Lmao. I hope your staying healthy. Btw I’ve choosen the most soft boy ever aka Harry Holland because that boy is lovely af - also this is my first time writing about the boys so pls be gentle 💛

Warnings: nothing much just a few curse words.

Spending quarentine and 24/7 trapped inside a house with the most loud, messy, cheeky boys ever wasn’t actually in your dream plans. Everyone got a part of their day busy, either was college, work, cooking, drinking, boys silly videogames challenges, boardgames and a lot of pranks. But apart from all that quarentine was making you guys build strong bonds.

You all tried to be active, productive and keep the days busy. But let me tell you this: that boys were always up to no good.

You were siting in the living room with your laptop in the coffee table and paying extreme attention to your zoom class. Harrison was in his, writing a few emails and you both were enjoying the quietness of the room while your teacher rambled about something important.

You totally missed Harry cheekily giggling and running into the living room, disappearing right after into the backyard. But little boy Tom definitely not gone unnoticed when he came shouting and shirtless, trying to catch his brother, making a quick appearence into your lecture since you had your camera and mic on the moment he passed behind you.

“HARRY! YOU’RE GONNA GET IT, YOU DICKHEAD!” Tom disapeared into the backyard door and Harrison looked at you trying his best not to laugh. You were looking at your classmates, with your face pale and widen eyes as you were noticing some of them laughing, freaking out and most importantly, your teacher had this serious unread expression on his face.

“That's it, I'm completely done”. You thought to yourself while smiling awkardly to the camera and thinking about million ways to murder Thomas freaking Holland.

"Wait, wasn't that dude, Spiderman?" Your teacher asked making Harrison and the rest of the class brust in laughter, meanwhile you grew red.

Apart from ruining zoom lectures, spending quality time with your bestfriends was the best thing. But most important, spending quality time with your very special friend Harry. Of course he didn’t knew he had a special place in you heart - and you meant to keep that way - but you two were very close and as the days went by it was more dificult to pretend that he didn’t make your stomach funny every morning when he came down and kissed your cheek, smelling heavenly with his sleepy eyes and messy curls.

Harrison was the mainly reason you've met Harry and the rest of the boys. It was during a summer break where you joined an workshop to learn more about the process of making movies and writing scripts. You didn't want to persue that professionally, but you needed exciting things to do on your summer break from high school so why not join a class to discuss movies?

You two got along right away after the teacher set you together to recreate a new ending for Titanic. You both did a comic approach, making everyone in the group laugh and even the teacher said that you were really a good duo. You had the writing skills and he had the acting. You were pretty unaware of Harrison’s truly intentions tho. But the minute he noticed your general interests about certain genres and cinema in general, the way you discuss the photography, scripts and plots even tho you didn’t understand very well about it and just by the way you stood in the theaters reading all the credits after a movie just ended. All of that simple things, reminded him of something. Or to be more precised, someone. That someone was nothing less than Harry Holland.

So he knew that he had to settle up you two, that you two would get along very well but Harrison wasn't going to force it, it had to happen naturally. That's why you started to hang out more with him. Going out to lunch or drink coffee, study sessions in the library, parties or movie sessions in his house and that eventually, gave you Tom.

Tom usually came with Harrison to the study sessions, studying his scrips and even joined the workshop at one point. Sadly he got off when he started working on the first big challenge in his career and all the Spiderman thing.

You three grew together and everyone started to getting in the right way of their lifes. Of course Tom knew his best friend's intentions from the start and decided to join the team of cupids.

It was needed one night at the pub, where you three were drinking and having a good time, to steping the plan to a whole another level.

"Guys, I'm going to quit the workshop." You said camly making Tom frown and Harrison almost spit his drink.

No no no, his plan didn't even started yet!! He thought.

"What? Why?!" Tom whined. After he had to quit it because his filming career, he was truly excited about his two best friends doing something similar to his job. He like the heated arguments and opinions about the films on movie nights, like you all had some sorta of film club.

"Did you got a boyfriend, is that it?" Harrison talked curious. "He doesn't let you hang with us?" He leaned on the tabled talking low as if he was saying a secret password.

"No Harrison, I'm still single. What the hell?" You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

This man and his obsession with my lofe life. You thought.

“I'm starting college and thats a big deal. I'm not going to have time to commit there, I only joined it as a hobby and it's been two years, guys." You smiled at them noticing their attention on you. "Also, I'm searching for a flat here, downtown before it all starts and I'm not finding anything." You simple explain frowning and taking a long sip on your drink and Tom's eyes lit up. He was proud of his flash thinking. Even if sometimes he wished he could just shut up and don’t say stupid things as his brothers would say to him.

"Move in with us, there's enough room there!" He let out excited. His eyes moved to Harrison and the blonde boy raised an eyebrow thinking further and understanding his best friend cheeky expression.

"Yeah, you could join us, darling. Real estate is a mess these days" Harrison smiled widely and your jaw dropped.

Are they serious right now?

"As if you knew about real estate." Tom rolled his eyes and Harrison playfully smacked his head.

"Uh-I-I don't know... You don't live there alone, what about the other guys? I don’t want to change the frat crazy house of yours.." You weren't sure if it was a good idea to move to a house without asking the other people who lived there.

"Oh you mean my brother Harry?" You nod after whatching Tom carefully. "He is super excited to met you, we’ve talk a lot about you". He simply let out making Harrison widen his blue eyes.Tom and his big mouth.

"Wait what?!" You asked being caught in surprise.

Three years later and there you were, standing in the kitchen, after Tom cooked dinner - by cooking you mean ordering - since it was your and Harry's turn to wash the dishes. As you washed the plates, he dried them with a white towel and was humming a song that was playing from his playlist. - swear that boy had a playlist for everything.

"Did you and Tom got your script thing sorted out yet?" You asked while passing a plate under the water. He stopped singing and listened to you carefully.

"Yeah, we are pretty far ahead. Moving to find a good plot. It's pretty hard" He answer grabbing the plate from your hands and noticing your eyes on his face, blushing slightly. "Don't tell Tom but I can give you the abstracts if you want to have a read? I know how much you love to read." He smiled and looked at your face properly. You were smiling widely and his heart softened finding your dimple extremely cute.

"Really?!" You sound so excited that he chuckled nodding.

"Of course. You're running out of books to read, I was planing on giving you one for Christmas but-" he continued driyng the plates but got caught in surprised when you kissed his cheek and said thanks. Seconds later he was right back in the kitchen after a short trip to the moon. "How's the online classes going?" He smiled, still blushing from your previous interaction, and looked at your face.

"It's going good." You stopped for a few seconds just admiring his face and the way his curls fell into his face lazily. He looked extremely cute in that green sweater. "I think my teacher fancies me more now. After the litle acident and knowing I share roof with spiderman, the dude." You said with a funny expression and you both laughed.

"Glad I could contribute on such achievements, miss." He bumped his shoulder into yours playfully. And you laughed even more. Your giggles filling the kitchen and besides the music playing on his playlist, Harry swore it was the most beautiful melodies he ever heard.

You two returned your attention to the sink and as you were doing it you got caugh in a Arctic Monkeys music playing and trying to remember the lyrics.

Click.

Your attention was brought back after hearing a camera and seeing a flash. Harry was still looking at you thru the lense with a lovely smile.

"Harry? Oh my god, no!" You blushed at his bold moves. "I'm looking horrible right now. Why did you take a picture?"

"Nonsense. You look so cute while doing the dishes." He turned the camera, showing you the picture and you blushed even more.

"Eww. Please, delete it." You warned and he chuckled putting the camera straps above his neck and resting the camera on his chest.

"I'm not going to delete it, love." He kept his task as you. "Sorry not sorry." He laughed maliciously and you rolled your eyes.

"You're going to delete it." You looked at him and he clicked his tongue.

"Uh-uh." He hummed moving his head negatively and his curls balanced up and down. That was a good sight.

"Oh yeah?" You raised and eyebrow asking one more time and didn't even gave him the time to turn your direction. Your hands already throwing him foam and he stepped back, foam hitting his hoodie and his chest.

He smirked but his hands went to his camera, inspection it.

"Oh shit, the camera." Your mouth making a "o" shape. "Im sorry H, I didn't thought about it." You pouted giving him the most apologetic smile and he pulled a poker face at you for a few minutes.

You were starting to believe that you actually broke the device but then he started to laugh hard.

"It's water proof, dummy." He showed you his tongue and hit you smoothly with the towel in your face.

"You absolute arse!" You thrown him more foam and after a peace threaten by his hands up, he finally stopped laughing. "Im serious now, delete the picture, carrot." You warned and he laughed at the nickname.

"I think I'm going to set it as my wallpaper." His words rolled out of his tongue so easily as he concentrate on drying the plates again and you didn't even moved from your spot, getting caught by his words.

"What?" You asked finally, studying his face and his eyes opened widely. "Harry why use my picture as your background?" You dried your hands.

Did I said that out loud? Damn it, Harry you fucking dick. He thought.

"Hmm..." He swallowed. "It's a really nice picture. You look rather pretty.... And I-uh kinda like you, I guess." His hands scratching his head and his blood stopping running thru his body. Well there wasn't no intention of hidden it now.

"Oh I'm so enjoying this." Tom said to Harrison, as they were siting across the room in the couch watching the whole scene in silence. You two didn't even noticed them spying.

"It's a romcom and we were the directors of it." Harrison joked and Tom chuckled.

"Thanks." You smiled and went to hug Harry. "You look rather pretty too." You said into his shoulder and earned a kind smile from him "Look." You were closer to him and your head moved back to look into his eyes properly, his hand traveled to your back and laid way to high for your liking. But it was Harry, and he was always so respectful that he didn't want to be sneaky or ruin the moment by placing his hands too down. You found that gesture so cute.

"I think I kinda like you, too." Your face got closer to his and his eyes closed feeling your hot breath hit his face. You stand there admiring his freckles for minutes.

"Do we have to move their heads too?" Harrison asked whispering. The duo was watching the scene unfold ahead of them with frowning expressions.

"Why aren't they kissing?" Tom dramatically pulled a face as if their plan came out totally wrong after all those years of dedication.

Harry started to dance slowly, his lashes clicked a few times and he opened his eyes. And you followed him. You both had silly smiles on your faces and after a long time of slowly dancing in his arms. He lean in, kissing you passionately. And you returned the kiss, like you meant to tell him that you loved him all along.

Continuously gags and whistles followed by an loud “FINALLY” from Harrison could be heard from the kitchen making Harry and you pull back from the kiss and stare at the boys. You both smiled and kissed again.

"Oh get a room you two!" Tuwaine shouted after entering the kitchen surprisingly and seeing you.

Despite that, you two didn't pulled back and Harry gave them the middle finger, covering your faces and the kiss with his hand, from the sneaky bastards across the room.

"We've created monsters" Tom's statement made everyone laugh.

#Harry Holland #harryholland #harry holland request #tom holland #harrison osterfield #harry holland #Harry Holland imagine #Harryholland #holland brothers #Holland boys

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born in 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and is the bassist and songwriter of Wallows and is best friends with her bandmates Dylan Minnette, Braeden Lemasters, and Cole Preston and she helps 5sos write songs for the album Calm and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in the good way) with shipping?

Wallowing

ashton Irwin x wallows!reader / masterlist

warnings; references to sex, swearing, threats

“Come in babe.” You opened the door, inviting your boyfriend Ashton into your flat. He had been having a hard day at the studio, and had asked if it was alright if he came over. Of course it was, but he had got a warning prior to his arrival, that they would not be alone, and that if he wanted to clear his head, it was certainly not the right place.

“Fuck you, you’re supposed to be on my side man!” At the sound of Dylan, yelling at whom you supposed to be Cole, you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as you welcomed your partner into your home sweet home. Out of all days, they had to be playing COD in your apartment today.

“Sorry bout that.” A light grimace filled your face, but instead of giving you criticism, Ashton simply laughed, following you through the apartment, as you tried to slowly pass behind your band mates who were occupying your living room.

“Not so fast young Sixx, get your well endowed ass back here.” A sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled your eyes at Braeden, pausing your movements as he turned to lean against the back of your couch to peer over at you. “We need to have a conversation little lady.”

Groaning, you threw your head back, smiling a small apology towards Ash. “We were going to go to my room, I’d rather just you guys play my PS4 without needing to interact with me face to face.”

“Would you rather he FaceTime you whilst you’re getting down and dirty, or stand there like a kid’s doll and allow him to pull at your arm?” Dylan mumbled, as you crossed your arms, Ash greeting your band mates as you moved towards the tv, reaching for the side button and turning it off.

“Y/n what the hell?” Cole half screamed, breaking loose as he was close to finally beating Minette and killing his gamer character. His hands flailed as he expected an answer, raising in the air as he held the remote.

“I could ask you the same thing Preston, so what’s the schtick that’s making you keep me here, in my own apartment?” He gulped as you enquired at him, raising your brow, as you leaned back into your partner who stood awkwardly behind you like a supporting shadow.

“Congrats on the album Irwin, it’s great to see our own band member aiding your band. CALM is sick, and she makes me feel the same, just in a different manner.”

“Stop being a salty little bitch would you?” You asked, smacking him on the upside of the back of his head. He rutted his head back, clasping the behind of his scalp with his palm, firmly turning back to cast an icy glare towards you.

This was the normal behaviour around here, you all enjoyed getting under each other’s skin. It was a sign of true friendship, that whilst sometimes still triggering some real annoyance, that made your bond of being band mates that much deeper.

They were doing the same thing to you now, speaking prolifically showering your boyfriend in compliments, to side swab you with cockblockery. In all honesty, whenever Lydia or another girl was on the premises, you returned the favour, though that did not your pulsating frustration decrease at all.

“I’m going to assume there’s a problem here. Are you sure now is a good time for me to be here?” Ash asked reassuringly, his gentle touch applying a loving presence upon your shoulder, making you smile despite the situation that was running through the discourse of your veins

You craved him, to feel his body atop, or under, or however else against your own. It was infuriating to endure how your band mates dragged their greeting to him out, all you wanted was to discard his and your own clothing, leaving it as a jumble of forgotten material on the floor whilst the pair of you were caught up in mess upon the mattress, limbs inclined to coil around each arch, and breaths long overdue and escaping into the air.

“It’s a good time for you overall pal, considering that your sales are sky high, taller than this one that is practically trying to hump your arm. No problems with your presence, except the fact that it’s turning little Brandi’s baby’s hormones into overdrive.” Braeden spoke, earning a guttural growl out from your throat, as your nostrils flared furiously at his words.

If you didn’t get on with it, then the Red Sea of the month would cause a flood that would stain your underwear. You’d have preferred to take action before that happened. “The work isn’t just on my shoulders loser, if you want a worldwide selling album, put in some elbow grease, instead of playing stupid games.”

“I’m good, and by definition that makes you stupid, because they belong to you.” He remarked, Cole chuckling and offering him a high five.

“I could just kick you out.” You promptly supposed, as Dylan messed around with his phone, surrendering to the game, as he ran his hand to define the ruggedness of his silvery blue locks.

“Band rules say no to that.” Braeden stated. “And Ash, feel free to replace this one, we could do a switch. You’re basically ready to move in together, so we wouldn’t have to go anywhere else to have rapid fire nights.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” Your boyfriend asked, and you, without any thought or hesitancy, shook your head. He certainly didn’t need to know about that, it was, least to say, a mess.

There would be dares, and drinks, and tattoos put in the most awkward places with that artist set that you kept very far under your bed. It was a shock that Ashton hadn’t seen the word ‘narwhale’ on the heel of your foot, or maybe he did, and decided against saying anything.

“I put up with these idiots.” Dylan sighed, though as you whipped your head around, you saw that he was not speaking directly to any of you, instead, his

“He’s on fucking insta live.” Cole realised, leaving over to get his face in the mirroring of the stream, waving a hand to the fans that spewed hearts onto the corner of the screen.

“Prick.” You called Dylan out, watching as he laughed at your lack of amusement, and poised the self proclaimed camera towards you, also catching the person beside you in the view.

“Calm.” Ashton softly spoke, sending you a small and reassuring smile, which you were defeated to not permit the same in return

“Funny pun Irwin, but shut up.” You laughed, and shook your head, him finally catching onto what he had said.

“Yes that is the incredibly talented 5SOS member Ashton Irwin. I know right, what is he doing with us?” Cole read, watching as Dylan rolled his eyes at his band member’s behaviour, wanting to get his phone back, though his attempts were lacklustre.

“Or more specifically, her?” Braeden asks, walking behind the sofa and grasping him, dragging him closer to where the phone was propped in Cole’s hand, giving the fans a clear image of his face. “Is he joining the band?” He reads from the flood of comments. “I wish, but we don’t draw that much talent.

“Speak for yourself.” You groaned, walking closer, leaning your head over Ash’s hunched shoulder, releasing an awkward smile as he raised it, gently bumping your chin with the slope of his muscle. “Rude.”

“Where are you guys? Well, we’re at y/n’s apartment. She just got back and dragged this old slugger in off the streets. How charitable.” Cole spoke, smiling up at Irwin as he lightly punched his face, already too comfortable with his hovering presence.

“Why is he there? This one makes me laugh, quick shag, ain’t that right buddy?” Braeden thoughtlessly worded, his eyes going wide in an instant as the fans quickly tended to the realisation of what he had meant. “Fuck, oops I guess.”

To say that you were furious was an understatement; you could feel an ache in your hands, wanting to tear the idiot into dismal pieces until there was nothing salvageable left to fix.

“You guess?” Dylan snickers, covering his mouth with his hand whence he saw your murderous expression conquer features. It was vastly more terrifying than any anger you had ever portrayed, and he could feel the couch moving as Braeden turned, and squirmed from the sight.

“Lemasters, imagine your head on a stick. That is going to happen, when I get my hands on you, your gonna turn cold as I strangle the living shit outta-“ Ashton grabbed you, as your arms tried to grasp and throttle your band mate, flopping in the air, intently furious at his revealing slip up.

“I think imma go.” He bolted, and as you struggled out of Ashton’s grip, you ran after him, out your front door and through the modesty of your building.

“She forgot her key.” Ashton noted, coming around and sitting with the remaining pair on the sofa. “How one of you think it’ll take for them to return?”

“As long as it takes for her to kill him.” Dylan grasps his phone back, fluttering his gaze over the comments. “They’re kinda cute together, found my new OTP. Sorry Dylan and Lydia. Oh don’t worry, that’s fine, we gotta take what we get and currently y/n’s not getting any because we have a tendency to cockblock her.”

“It’s our duty as the men of the band.” Cole spoke, a scream reverberating through from the hallway, audible to those online that were watching the two worlds merging.

“I think she got him.” Ash said, smirking lightly, as he heard your voice bellow out in rage against the male. Yep, your band was messy, but his wasn’t much different. He could certainly get used to it.

#ashton irwin x you #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fluff #ashton imagine #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin fic #ashton fanfiction #ashton fluff #ashton irwin x y/n #5sos x reader #5sos au #5sos imagines #5sos one shot #5sos imgaines #5sos imagine #5sos x you #5sos x oc #5sos fic

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 3 years

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Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 2

A/N: So, I'm not Latino but I do come from an immigrant family so I may end up basing Simon's experience moving to a whole new country with my own experiences. I also consulted Hispanic friends on the language and culture I used here but forgive me if I get anything wrong. Please feel free to suggest or correct me on anything.

AO3

Simon had never been on a plane before. In fact, he had never traveled before.

It wasn’t like his family had copious amounts of money to spare for a fancy vacation. The most they probably did was spend a weekend in Stockholm, sightseeing and doing tourist-y stuff during one of his mother’s birthdays.

So, to say that he was overwhelmed by the process of traveling by plane, internationally, and as a minor, was an understatement. He was utterly terrified and anxious.

When his mother and Sara had dropped him off at the international airport in Stockholm (that place, alone, was overwhelming to see, even if he had looked at the pictures online beforehand), their hugs were long and teary. His mother barely let him go and Sara clung to his arm, crying silent tears into his jacket. They made sure he had enough snacks to fill him up on the 8-hour flight and his mother must have lectured the airport official tasked to escort him (because he was a minor) for so long that the woman had to gently tell her that Simon would miss his flight if they dallied any longer.

So, reluctantly, he said goodbye to his family.

Simon was given a badge to wear that indicated he was an unaccompanied minor and the stewardess seated him towards the front of the Economy class next to the window. She asked him if there was anything else he needed before leaving him to tend to other duties. No one was seated next to him yet so Simon took his time looking at all the knobs and buttons, familiarizing himself with them. He spotted magazines tucked into the little pocket in front of him so he took one out.

Just his luck, Wille’s face stared back at him. It was one of those tabloids and, fortunately, this one didn’t have Simon on it. The words on the cover spoke about the Royal Family’s Christmas celebrations.

Unable to help himself, Simon ran a gentle finger over the image of Wille. He missed him. He missed him so much. He missed his smiles. His hugs. The way he made noises when he was embarrassed. The way he tried to sing but was always off-key. Damnit, Simon really missed him.

When Wille first denied it was him in the video and Simon decided to break up with him, he was angry. So damn angry. Wille had promised him that they were in it together, that Simon wasn’t going to be alone. And he broke it.

But, now that he had time to think things through and see the situation from Wille’s position, he understood. Sort of. Maybe not completely. The Royal family’s need to stick to tradition and rules in a modern world that had no room for it would always baffle him. But, there wasn’t anything Wille could do. And coming out was such a personal and terrifying thing, Simon could speak from experience.

He wished he could tell Wille where he was going – he knew the prince would worry if he didn’t see Simon at Hillerska. But, Simon promised his mother to keep his whereabouts quiet from others aside from them, Ayub, and Rosh.

His best friends had been upset to find out that Simon was leaving the country. They had tried to appeal to his mother but when she made a decision, she was determined to see it through. Not even her soft spot and affection for Simon’s best friends could sway her.

Thus, here he was. On a plane. To New York.

Someone shuffled to the empty seat next to him, an older man who acknowledged him with a nod. Simon gave him a small, polite smile and tucked the magazine back into the pocket. Then, he took out his headphones and put them on as he waited for the plane to fill up and take off.

During the flight, Simon realized traveling by plane wasn’t too bad. It was probably one of the most luxurious things he had ever experienced. There were movies and snacks and interesting meals. He watched 3 movies, all in English, and snacked on the provided bags of pretzels and sodas. When he had finished those, he dug into his own backpack for the snacks his mother packed. He also napped for about an hour, leaning against the cold surface of the window. He took pictures of the clouds on his phone.

The stewardesses checked on him every once in a while. Then, when the plane was almost to New York, they were given little papers to fill in for immigration. The man next to him, clearly a veteran of flights and traveling, kindly helped clarify the places that confused him.

Then, when they landed at JFK Airport, while everyone else shuffled out of the plane, Simon had to wait for someone to get him. An airport official eventually arrived, a man who greeted Simon in Swedish and led him out of the plane. The official got him through immigration, Baggage Claim to collect his bags, and to the Arrivals area.

Simon scanned the crowd, looking for his aunt.

“Simon! Over here!”

A woman with dark curly hair, wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, waved at him, excitedly. His Tia Elena.

Feeling himself smile, Simon dragged his suitcases behind him as he hurried over to her. She fought through the crowd to get to him.

“Tia!” He was enveloped in her arms, immediately, the hug as tight and warm as his mother’s.

“Oh, look at you, mijo!” She pulled back to look up at him – he was at least an inch taller than her. “You’re so tall now! And so handsome! Look at those beautiful curls!”

Simon laughed. “Gracias, Tia. It’s good to see you, too. Thank you for having me.”

She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Of course. You’re family.”

She patted his cheek affectionately before turning to the airport official who had escorted Simon. After confirming who she was and her relation to Simon, they were finally allowed to leave the airport.

His aunt drove them in a red Toyota sedan, chattering and pointing out the window at buildings and signs, explaining what they were or where they led to. Simon nodded along, politely, watching New York pass him by. Being here, it finally sunk in – he was no longer home in Sweden. He was no longer going to see his mother, his sister, and his friends for a long while. He wasn’t going to see Wilhelm.

The longing made his heart grow heavy but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to worry his aunt.

At a red light, Tia Elena picked up her phone and unlocked it before handing it over to him.

“Why don’t you video call your mama?” she said. “Let her know you’ve arrived safely.”

Simon took the phone and scrolled through the contacts, looking for his mother’s name. It was probably late there now, as Sweden is 6 hours ahead of New York, but maybe they were still awake.

“Elena?” His mother picked up, immediately.

“Hi, mama. It’s me!”

“Mi amor!” She beamed. “I’m glad you got there safe! How was your flight?”

“Good! Mama, did you know they give you food on the plane? It was really good. Nothing like your cooking though.” Simon bit his lip. “I miss you and Sara, already.”

“We miss you, too, mi amor. Sara! Come here, it’s your brother! Where’s your Tia?”

Simon moved to show his aunt on camera.

His aunt waved at the phone. “Hi, Linda! Simon is here with all his limbs attached, don’t worry.”

Simon’s mother laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. How are you, Elena?”

His mother and aunt chatted for a bit, with Simon holding the phone. At some point, Sara showed up to say “hi” and announce the news that her grant from Hillerska had been approved. She was going to be a resident when the term started.

And, suffice to say, Simon was happy for his sister but was also a little bummed that he couldn’t be there for her. But, he also knew she was in safe hands with Felice and Madison.

“Who’s gonna feed my fish then? That was your job!”

“Mama will, duh!”

“I’ll take good care of them, Simon, don’t worry.”

Simon smiled. “Thanks, mama.” He bit his lip, feeling the longing stir in his chest again. “I… I miss you.”

His mother returned the smile, sadly. “We miss you, too, Simon. Take care, okay? I’ll call as often as I can.”

“Okay, mama.”

“Bye, Elena. Take care of Simon!”

“No need to tell me twice, Linda.”

Goodbyes took another minute or so and finally, Simon ended the video call. He could feel his right eye watering. He turned to look out the window again, not wanting his aunt to see. But, she must have those instincts all mothers had as he felt her pat his shoulder, gently.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent with only the radio and his aunt occasionally pointing out a store or a restaurant that she and his cousin, Ana, would frequent. He assumed he would be doing the same, at some point. But, right at that moment, he didn’t really care. He had only been in New York for an hour and he already wanted to go home.

They soon arrived at the home where his aunt lived with her only daughter. It was painted yellow, one story, and a few steps led up to the front door. A few potted plants and some large bushes decorated the lawn as well as patches of ice and snow.

As soon as Simon entered with his suitcases and backpack in tow, he was greeted by a shriek and arms wrapped around his neck.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here, Simon! Welcome to New York!”

The arms retreated and Simon looked down in surprise. His cousin, Ana, a year older than him and whom he remembered often led him around by holding his hand, was shorter than he was. She must have noticed it, too, as she scoffed.

“Ugh, why are you so tall now?!” she whined.

“Simon probably eats his vegetables and you don’t,” said his aunt, gently bumping her daughter in the head.

Simon laughed, shaking his head as he pulled his cousin back for another hug. He had forgotten how much he had missed her.

Ana, Sara, and he were thick as thieves and the best of friends when they were younger. They grew up together. That was, until Simon turned 11 and Ana and Sara, 12, that Tia Elena’s then-husband and Ana’s father, Ricardo, decided he wanted to try his luck in America and moved his entire family there. Two years later, he left them for another woman. But, that didn’t matter. He left his family but Tia Elena managed to keep the business that she worked hard to put up and grow.

“Take your cousin to his room and let him rest. I’ll start on dinner.”

Before Simon could protest, Ana grabbed his backpack and one of the suitcases before making her way through the house. Sheepishly, Simon followed behind her, eyes roaming around to take in the furniture and knick-knacks.

They walked through the living room with a sofa and armchair, T.V., and a collection of DVDs. A couple of photos on the walls of Ana and Tia Elena (none of Ricardo, of course). He surprisingly found one of his mom with him and Sara wearing their Hillerska uniforms. They had taken that on the first day of school back in September.

They passed by the dining room and he spotted the kitchen through a beaded curtain.

“That’s the bathroom.” Ana pointed to a small door at the end of the hallway. “Master’s bedroom is Mama’s room.” She pointed to a door on the opposite side. “She has her own bathroom so you and I will share. Mine is this one.” She pointed at the door they just passed that had a pink butterfly made from wire and what looked to be stockings stuck to its surface. “And you get this room.”

She opened the door and stepped aside to let him through first.

Pulling his suitcase behind him, Simon cautiously entered the room, still feeling like a stranger in what was supposed to be his home in the next couple of months. Or longer.

There was a bed, a little larger than his own at home, covered in green sheets and four pillows. A window with open blinds was above it (Simon itched to close it). There was a closet on the wall and next to it, a chest of drawers. There was also a desk with a wheeled chair and a lamp as well as an AC with another window with blinds above it.

“The AC is unplugged right now since it’s winter,” said Ana, entering after him and closing the door. She set his backpack on top of the chair and his second suitcase next to it. “There’s a heater but if you still get cold, let us know. We can get you an electric heater. I have one in my room, too.”

Simon sat on the bed. It felt nice. Soft. The sheets smell freshly washed.

“Thanks, Ana,” he said smiling up at her.

She returned the smile and sat next to him. For a moment, they were both quiet. Simon wasn’t quite sure what to say to her and clearly, neither did Ana. The excitement of seeing each other had worn off and the years of their separation finally settled. He wondered what she was like now. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk – they kept in touch through social media. But, it wasn’t the same as before.

“How are you, Simon?” Ana suddenly asked, sounding hesitant. “We heard about… you know… that.”

Heat filled his face and he immediately dropped his head into his hands. “Ana… please don’t tell me you watched it.”

She snorted. “Of course not! I wouldn’t do that to you! Plus, it’s weird! You’re my cousin!” She nudged him. “But… was it really the prince?”

He groaned.

“I mean… you don’t have to tell me or anything. But, I just want you to know that… whoever did that to you, guys, is really shitty. And, I hope they step on a pile of legos.”

The unexpected joke coaxed a giggle out of Simon. Ana was funny. He wondered when she developed this weird sense of humor, but he kind of liked it.

He raised his head to look at her. “Thanks, prima.”

“Anytime, primo.” She nudged him again. “You know that I’m always on your side. I even joined my school’s GSA Club in solidarity! And lemme tell you, we have lots of cute guys for you to meet!”

Simon groaned again. “Ana, I’m not really looking to… date.”

Or be with anyone ever again. Wilhelm had ruined him for anyone else.

“You don’t have to date them. Just meet them. Make new friends. Learn things about yourself.” She nudged his foot with her own. “I mean, I learned a lot about myself there.”

Simon turned to look at her, confused. “Like what?”

Ana couldn’t look him in the eye but she took a giant deep breath. “GSA doesn’t just have cute guys, you know. There’s also… cute girls.”

Oh… OH.

Simon wrapped an arm around her back, squeezing her to his side, like he often did with Sara.

“Does Tia know?” he asked softly.

Ana bit her lip and shook her head.

“Why not? You know she’ll be supportive. She supported me when I came out.”

“That’s different. You know it’s always different when it’s other people’s kids but when it comes to your own kids…” She scoffed. “I love her and I know that she loves me. But, I just don’t know how she’ll take it if I tell her that I don’t just like guys… I like girls, too. I mean, how can you not? They’re so pretty!”

He shot her a look.

“Right, you can’t relate.” She chuckled and then sighed. “It’s just… different. I don’t know how you did that. But, I wish I could, too.”

Simon understood. It was scary when he decided to come out to his mom and Sara when he was 13. He thought they would stop loving him. He thought things would be different after he did. But, nothing much changed, really. His mother and sister simply told him that they still loved him. Now, instead of teasing him about girls, they teased him about boys. He had never been so grateful to have had such a loving and accepting family.

He knew Ana was scared right now. So, if he could be a friend and comfort, he would. They were family, after all.

“You’re on my side so I’m on yours, okay?” he said, smiling, kindly.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Simon. And, I'm not even exaggerating. I’m really excited to have you here.” She patted his knee and stood up. “So… I’ll let you rest now. Mama probably needs help with dinner. It will take a while so you can nap or something. We’ll catch up more later?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ana. And I’m really happy to see you, too.”

She grinned at him before opening the door and closing it behind her.

The sound echoed in the room.

Simon looked around the room – his room – that was full of so many things for him yet felt so empty.

There was no fish tank for him to spend mindless minutes talking to his fish. No second-hand desktop with his Xbox connected to play games with Ayub and Rosh. He did bring his laptop and his game systems but he could no longer make their Friday game nights.

Not for the first time since he boarded the plane to New York, Simon felt all alone.

After taking off his jacket and shoes, he curled up on top of the covers and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep.

He dreamt of Sweden and all he left behind.

.............

The sky outside was gray. Winter was cold and cruel and it seemed like even the sun refused to come out and grace them with its warmth. Wilhelm thought it matched his mood, perfectly

“Your Royal Highness… Prince Wilhelm…”

Wilhelm tore his gaze away from the window and stared up at the face of his concerned-looking Math teacher. Mr. Englund raised an eyebrow at him.

“Your answer?”

Wilhelm looked at the board. There was an equation on it that he didn’t bother to try and answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”

Mr. Englund sighed at him. “See me after class, please.” He moved on. “Frederika, what is your answer?”

Wilhelm tuned out his classmate’s response, choosing to look back out the window again. He had no energy for school anymore.

After class, Wilhelm stayed behind. He stood in front of Mr. Englund’s desk and waited as his classmates filed out. When the last of them was gone, Mr. Englund finally turned to him.

“You’ve been distracted, lately, your Royal Highness. Is everything alright?”

Wilhelm shrugged again.

Mr. Englund cleared his throat. “If you need extra tutoring-.”

Wilhelm’s eyes flashed and his hands shook as he finally spoke, “I don’t need to bribe you to get a good grade in this class, sir.”

Clearly caught off-guard by this, Mr. Englund’s mouth opened and closed and opened again.

“That’s not what I-.”

“It’s illegal, you know,” Wilhelm continued. “To give special treatment to those who can pay when you should be treating all your students, equally. Not everyone has the means to bribe their way to the top.”

Wilhelm was running his mouth, he knew. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was illegal (he should probably look it up) but he knew it was wrong. He knew what the need to get a passing grade in this class did to Simon. He would be damned to let it slide.

He was the Crown Prince, damnit, so he might as well own it in some way.

“I won’t speak of this to the headmistress,” he continued as Mr. Englund continued to stare at him, mouth agape like a fish. “Though I suspect that she’s already aware of your little side business. But, I won’t be a part of it. Good afternoon, sir.”

With his head held high, Wilhelm walked out of the room.

As soon as he was far enough away, he stopped and leaned against the wall. His heart was pounding so fast, he wondered if he was getting a heart attack at the young age of 16.

“Your Royal Highness?”

He looked up to a concerned Malin hovering over him.

He managed a reassuring smile at her. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just… I need a minute.”

She nodded and stepped back.

He knew he was already late for his next class but, nonetheless, Wilhelm dug through his pocket and took out his phone. He dialed the already familiar number, not willing to forget this one thing, just in case. And, just like any other time, the call went straight to voicemail.

“Yo, this is Simon. I’m not available right now. Leave a message and I’ll try to call you back. Bye.”

“Simon,” Wilhelm said in a low voice. “Hey. Um… It’s me. Uh… I did something today. I think you’d be proud. I think. I hope.” He took a shaky breath. “Please call me back. I need to talk to you. Please. I…”

He meant to say, “I still love you. I never stopped. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else the way I love you.”

Instead, he said, “I miss you.”

Wilhelm hung up and thumped his head against the wall. It hurt a bit but not as much as his heart right now.

#young royals #young royals fanfic #simon x wilhelm

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nozomijoestar · 3 years

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I used to have this story exclusively on my Ao3 but since I deleted that last December its taken me months to feel any rhythm of comfort uploading writing online again be it original or not; so I’m finally planning to reupload stuff I saved that isn’t already tagged here

Originally written under ‘Start and Start Again’ for She-Ra Fluff Bang 2020 and my first standalone novella length thing at 10k

The journey of Catra’s ever changing life begins with one step forward

It started as a bump on her stomach. A mild thing no bigger than her fist. Yet it stuck out the way the crown piece of a treasure hoard shines. Catra stumbled backwards; gripped the sink to keep her balance. She stared deeper into the full length mirror. The bump remained, had it gotten taller in this light? It was smooth to the touch or rather as smooth as fur could be. The softness of her was something to take great pride in. Anyone who assumed her messy were proven dead wrong. Now wasn't the time for petty thinking however.

Catra sank to the floor still clutching her stomach. She felt it join as part of her, this new thing, and if she strained her ears she just knew it had a heartbeat. A child. Adora's- no their child. She has to swallow to not shout 'Holy Shit!!!' at the top of her lungs. Instead it makes her bite her lip until blood trickles. Catra winces then recovers; she stands and runs water to splash on her face. The woman staring back in the vanity mirror is smiling under the wet bangs sticking to her forehead; smiling like an idiot now disheveled. She pivots and bolts out the bathroom yelling.

"Hey Adora! Adora come over here!"

"Catra? What's going on this early?"

She dashed around the sofa through the living room to find Adora rubbing her eyes and slinking out of bed. She heard her mumble already about waking ahead of schedule; it made her try not to roll her eyes. Of course she'd fixate on that right out of sleep. Before she let her get in another word Catra stopped in front of her. She grabbed Adora's hand and pressed it to her stomach. A lopsided grin was all she could muster for a reply. It took a few seconds, then Adora's eyes went wide. She saw her stare at the bump with such reverence Catra felt tears fall.

"You're...we're..."

"I know."

Adora pulled her down into a hug so tight Catra had to tap her to ease it.

"I'm gonna be a parent...Catra you're gonna be a parent! It's, it's real. It's actually happening."

"Told ya it'd work out."

Then Adora sucked in a huge breath and went rigid gawking at the ground.

"Oh my god I'm gonna be someone's mom. I dunno the first thing about babies! Catra who do we even ask-"

"Um, all of Bright Moon and our friends? They already know we're trying did'ja think they'd ditch us now?"

"No! No of course not. It's just this is actually happening. What if I mess it up already and something goes wrong o-or they come and don't like me- can babies think their mom is lame before they're born? What if-"

"Adora. Do you still want a baby?"

"Yes. More than anything. Sorry I know I'm being-"

"Hey. That's all you need; someone like you is gonna do fine. So stop or you'll give yourself a heart attack before the kid's even here."

Catra sat beside her and rubbed circles on her back. A sigh filled the room when Adora leaned her head on Catra's shoulder. She planted a kiss in her hair and wrapped an arm around her.

"...I wouldn't have my kid with someone I knew'd be shit at it. Or to me. You're you Adora, I didn't choose anyone else."

"I know I know. We're nothing like Sha-"

For an instant something stops Adora as if she's been gagged. Her eyes go wide again haunted by the sinister. She tries speaking only to make a strangled sound. They exchanged a look of understanding no one should have. A look of indescribable pain. Shared pain. Adora strains to start a third time when Catra finishes it.

"Nothing like Shadow Weaver. And we never will be. You can kill me if I do."

"I wouldn't go that far but...me too."

Wordlessly she let Adora slide against her and rest on her chest. Catra purred as she traced her claws along Adora's arm. Her tail coiled around Adora's waist when she bent to kiss her cheek. A hum is all she gets in reply; its more than enough.

"We're better people now, aren't we?" She asks.

"We'll always be better if we try. You're right I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Catra?"

She saw the eyes staring up fill with worry like it held the same value as water. Like it was something born in Adora's hands and for all their years since childhood it may well have been. Like it paired perfect with the tension stiffening her face. A face that deserved only to finally be soft forever. Catra whispered already knowing she wouldn't cure anything. It was too late of course; shame was her birthright too.

"I'm happy. I'm so happy right now I can't put it into words even for you. But that doesn't change what I've done. Who I was before this, before this version of us...back when we woke up everyday wondering if that'd be the last time."

"Catra no."

"I hurt you, Adora. I keep saying it because it's never going away ok? I hurt you, I hurt Sparkles and Arrow-Boy, Scorpia...Entrapta. The entire damn planet can bite me in the ass someday and I'd understand. The Horde destroyed. This being the happiest time of my life doesn't erase that."

"Catra-"

"What if I get frustrated and relapse? What if it's not even something I do it runs in families and I'm ruining them right now by being their mother because being a failure is just destiny?!"

"Enough."

The hands holding her head were firm as Adora moved to tangle them in her hair. She lowered her fully onto her lap; let herself purr with a breath in. Her eyes closed, tears fell. Adora's thumb wiped them away. It was so gentle Catra couldn't help a sob. She let everything pour out, let herself be wracked by hiccups; not one received judgement. She sat raw, bare in a place where dignity came innate not earned and knew herself still the invader. The conqueror. An aide to desolation.

The knotted feeling in her throat overpowered the new life under Adora's touch. Her stomach tingled at the caress; did their child want to scold her too?

In the end Adora's voice, that better half, guided her to reason.

"You're allowed to feel bad, remember? Like Perfuma said? I cant stop you no matter how much it hurts to hear. You're allowed to have bad days; but you're not allowed to give up. And you're not allowed to stop improving."

She let herself be pushed gently onto their bed; settled into the wholeness of their bodies resting together like they were made for nothing else. Adora is warm, her chest is safe, and her blonde hair falls across Catra better than a curtain. She purrs and purrs in her arms unable to stop, to entertain the thought for stopping. Hands wander the length of her then settle on her hips. Adora's thumb circles her fur until she wraps her tail along that forearm. They kiss and by god Catra will never get over the bliss it brings. How do you get over a free fall?

In silence she lets herself be tucked further against her; their legs entangle just as a feeling indescribable bursts from deep within. Something Catra knows she's understood for as long as she could remember that refuses to emerge in glimpses anymore. Only Adora can hope to know it in equal measure. She wants to wish that more than she's ever wanted at all. She swallows before meeting Adora's eyes. Adora has the briefest second for confusion when Catra's impulse strikes in her softest voice.

"It's like you know me better than I know myself."

Adora's face went wide then slid into the chuckle they know means contentment.

"Because you let me in."

And let her in she continued to do. For every day she grew bigger not a feasible moment did she spend alone. If she hungered the kitchen stocks ran dry, when she rested Bright Moon went still. Whenever she yowled or groaned there came Adora to massage her, Bow to shoo away prying eyes, Glimmer to order so many extra pillows for their room she thought there'd finally be something to suffocate her worse than herself.

She sat at the center of the castle gardens in the sun. Seven months had turned the seasons hot into mild into cold that'd kept her tucked in Adora's embrace, now turned again another leaf into Spring. Her back ached under a pressure fanning up her spine and centered on her swollen belly. Catra stifled a groan. Adora sat slumped over the table sound asleep opposite her. The gentle snores rumbling from her chest punctuated the bird calls like a bad note cutting a song. Catra laughed as soft as possible. Maybe their kid would pick it up from the get-go.

The ice in her drink clinked as she sipped. That's when she heard another step through the grass. She glanced at a hedge over her glass brim.

"Quit screwing around before someone else sees you."

"Ohhh Kitten you still don't know the meaning of fun do you?"

"Shhh. Adora's asleep. Thought you'd be quieter too. Must be sooo hard going soft."

A guard emerged from the shadows in white armor. The crescent standard of Bright Moon on the chest liquified then twisted into darkness. It bent and spread until a new figure emerged. Double Trouble shook out the unshaven half of their blond undercut. They stretched into a saunter across the paving stones.

Their high heels made that grating 'click clack' noise she'd once waited for in the Fright Zone. On reflex she glanced at Adora; she was still asleep, now drooling. The nasal pitch Double Trouble called a voice went lower even as their words dripped sass. Catra wished it'd never change, if you dragged the thought out of her.

"I'm surprised you've kept that tongue of yours looking like that. What a nasty little bite from an expecting mother."

"Oh really? What a tired act from a spy about to be washed out in peacetime. Hey don't sit there!"

"No darling you made the bed now lie in it for that one. This table is more than enough for a party."

They smirked at each other and knew there was nothing to forgive. Double Trouble gave Adora a once over look; their eyes lingered on Catra's stomach. They crossed their legs and arms with that flair Catra secretly imitated in the mirror. She went back to drinking.

"Seems like you two tied the knot finally. So sorry I had to miss that event, the stage called me. Color me not shocked to have seen this coming a mile away."

"...What's that mean?"

"It means darling there are countless women throughout the universe who'd kill for your position. Wife of She-Ra and now adding to this little litter you two are starting? Honey you're the most envied yet admired woman anywhere."

"Yeah well I'll believe it when I see it. That many people couldn't like me unless there was something to take."

"Dear, would you look at me?"

She did and found them filing their nails. Typical. They continued.

"Are we friends?"

A pause. Catra twiddled her thumbs. They looked her dead in the eyes now.

"Yeah."

"And her over there, what is she to you?"

"I...Adora is part of my everything."

"Why?"

"What'd you mean why?"

She stopped herself and startled; her eyes widened toward something distant, somewhere within. There from her memory stood Adora, begging her to turn rebel, Adora catching her before a drop to certain death, Adora laughing as they held hands like children again through dark tunnels. Adora overturning an empire millions strong to save her on nothing more than her heart. Adora crying always crying but never stopping.

Foolish and lovely Adora who promised her in infinite ways she was worth it.

Double Trouble grinned into a sound of contentment. They put their filer away and stared expectantly but not without care.

"I take it you know. Now tell me this and be honest- what about Glimmer and Bow? What about all these other princesses and their kingdoms? How do they treat you?"

"They're...they're kind to me. Every time we were off planet letting Adora do her thing, seeing people hold magic for the first time...putting up with my crap before this baby and...helping."

"Oh dearest me that sounds like dare I say, friendship!"' They gasped in mock surprise and laid a hand on their chest.

Catra shot them a scowl; it didn't last.

"Shut up before Adora gets up and misses another hour of sleep. Do you have any idea how she's been? I don't think she's even running on anything anymore like, everyday."

"Taking care of you I'd assume. Go on am I right?" Double Trouble asked (with a wiggle of their eyebrows of course) as if they were on the verge of a delicious secret. For all Catra knew they probably did and could eat those.

"Don't read my damn mind." She replied resting her chin on her palm.

"Darling, Catra, enough moping. Having to kick you in the rear like this when you of all people are making kittens is a bad look. Times have changed; you're not that hollow eyed puppet I knocked sense into back with the Horde. Be free, live a little, throw your kid wild birthday parties. And for the love of theatre get some better stylists for the two of you. I won't stand for a child who's moms aren't looking fabulous."

The whirlwind of gestures their hands made came to a stop. They stared yet again with that expectation bearing down on her. Catra read their eyes. It came from a good place; a place deep, deep past the snark. A veil of doubt that'd anchored in her fell away. Everyone had been kind no- was being kind. The cruelest thing they could do was throw a pregnant woman out to fend for herself and that was seven months too late. 'Or early. Weren't you found in a box? Weren't you out with the trash once time was up?'

She shuddered. No, it wasn't like that anymore, it had no right to be. No power over her; no power over her family. Catra grit her teeth and fangs flashed. She wouldn't let it. Without thinking a growl rumbled through her. Double Trouble clicked their tongue.

"Stress is extra bad for you right now Kitten. Just try to keep stepping out of that head of yours and see what's around for a change."

At last they stood and made to leave; Catra almost reached to stop them, then thought better. What more was there to add? They'd seen her for an open book. Instead she swallowed hard. The voice that called out to them bled sincerity.

"Thank you."

"Pay me back by making good choices darling."

Two weeks later she wriggles her toes on a beach in Mystacor. The sky shifts from twilight to orange dusk. She just knows she's counted the exact same number of clouds the past hour. The air is so clean it's her only barrier from passing out; every breath jolts energy beneath her aches. Adora's footsteps are easy to read when her ears perk. She wraps her tail around her at the feel of them sitting together.

Adora hums before reaching to stroke her belly. The kiss on her cheek is simple yet her blood dances in excitement. Their fingers lace together on the sand. It grounds them. Catra knows Bow is carrying something by the slightest drag in his gait; Glimmer (if you asked her Catra still had the right to call her Sparkles, Queen shit and everything aside) followed behind. The four of them were a crowd that made anything happen.

As if on cue the baby kicked. Whatever the others blathered about faded from her mind into white noise. Beside her time stopped for Adora too; this kid was already making them predictable. The wonder Catra watched spread across her face stayed fresh as ever. Glimmer and Bow went silent. She felt their eyes trace over, heard their breath hitch. She smiled.

"Can I feel it this time?"

"Glimmer you always ask that. Save room for Uncle Bow, who just so happens to have something I know they'll love!"

"My Aunt helped." Glimmer added behind a hand though Bow could hear her.

"Yes she did but only the clothes; these were all me. See for yourselves."

He revealed a set of dolls from a sack. Each were handwoven and stitched so well if she didn't know Bow she'd guess a machine's handiwork. Her breath hitched. Their likenesses were posed under his movements as Glimmer clapped with a giggle. Adora gasped, covered her mouth while her eyes watered. Big ol' softie her Adora was; yet she fought her own tears. The doll with her face wore a grin between cockiness and charm. The smarmy, ruthless, torn glare of her past self morphed on the silk in her minds eye. Its fangs were bared and its sneer cruel.

Catra shuddered and recoiled until she nearly toppled onto the sand. Her bug eyed stare at the thing matched her heaving chest. Nausea that chased a prickling sensation washed over her like a wave; a force of nature. Several deep breaths gave her some composure but the world continued to blur in a haze. Her heartbeat thrummed in her throat and hearing faded and-

And then Adora filled her vision; Adora held her tight until finally she went still. She felt her cheek cupped and fingers massaging through her hair. Though it had regrown thick as a mane despite reaching her shoulders Adora's nails found her scalp. Of course they would; she purred into the embrace and bit her lip to swallow a cry.

'Just try to keep stepping out of that head of yours and see what's around for a change.'

She blinked; the world popped back into place. They stared at her with faces on a scale from terror to worry; as if there were much difference. Bow's pleas about what was wrong stopped the instant her eyes dared linger on her doll again. He looked down and understood; away it went into the sack.

It wasn't the sentiment that upset her. He knew why. Words returned slow when he took her hand.

"I love it Bow, thanks, really; it's sweet of you. I'm sorry I...y'know. Need to keep working on myself."

"Hey don't apologize for that it's alright. I should be the one saying sorry; I didn't think it was still this bad for you."

"Whatever keeps bugging you we're here ok? No shaming, Horde Scum." Glimmer added with a smile that continued to forgive her more than Catra deserved in her opinion.

But if her own words couldn't be trusted, had she been shown forgiveness after all?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Adora, always there to cut to the point. She found her voice.

"When I saw myself it's like realizing my kid's gonna idolize me. They're gonna grow up having me everywhere if I'm really with them or not. They might even say they wanna be like their mom. Makes a feeling come over me...who I was tries to tell me they'll find nothing to be proud of."

"Oh Catra. We can't not let you feel that way but what matters is you've changed. You keep changing everyday; look at you now! You're committed to motherhood for one, you and Adora are amazing together, you helped me with so much paperwork- c'mon Bow tell her."

Glimmer nudged Bow until he nudged back; he gave Catra a stare that pierced her doubts. She'd rarely seen anyone who captured the sensation of light poking through clouds. He deserved to be called a sun. She swallowed hard again. God, this baby had her emotional.

"You've come a long way. We chose and keep choosing to help. I know it's hard but don't let whats in your head overpower that. We care. You're not gonna go back to being who you were. If you do, we'd stop you because we want to."

"But, everything with Angella-"

Fuck she mentioned it. Why? She just had to bring it up didn't she? 'Do you enjoy shooting yourself in the foot?...' A squeeze on her arm brought her mind to a halt. Damn, Adora may as well have a license in reading her mood. Glimmer sighed from a deep breath. She watched her face knit into something between grief and acceptance.

Everyone went silent, hinged themselves on whatever Glimmer said next. When she spoke her voice came thoughtful yet blunt.

"My mother is gone. Because of you or not she's not here and wallowing in anger and self pity isn't going to bring her back. I'm sure if she saw me still doing it she'd be upset. I've had the years I needed for that; the Catra in front of me isn't the same who pulled the switch."

Glimmer put a hand on Catra's shoulder and smiled when it was welcome. Their eyes met and she saw Bow nod. Glimmer continued in her queenly voice this time; gone were any hints she spent hours practicing, her mother's strength rang clear.

"Don't discredit our choice to forgive. Trust us to stay honest with you and care. Trust yourself like I know you can. Now, let's rate how cheesy my Aunt's baby clothes look!"

Catra's senses returned as if popping back into existence. Just like that they jumped into the next discussion, the next joke, the next tease. She sat with no one but herself to blame; no one but herself for guilt to feast on. Was that it? Was she still trapped in time? How simple it'd been to get an answer for once, yet beside it came more than she understood. The baby kicked again. She sighed and touched her stomach.

"Sorry you've got an overthinking Mama kid."

Adora nudged her. She turned to find that contagious smile to reel her in.

"Hey they're right y'know. Everything is gonna be ok, I promise."

Promises sacred as they were didn't lessen the pain. Her vision blurred at another stab of pain, another push as her entire body pulsed. Her lower back had it the worst; every ounce of pain coursed from that white hot center until Catra was sure she'd been reduced to jelly, if she could ever see straight again. Another scream tore her throat. Her body arched.

The hiss Adora shot out as Catra's claws dug into her hand registered faintly. She could hear Entrapta babbling some science jargon. Scorpia's frantic voice came beside Entrapta's assembly of rumbling tech no doubt worried over everything; that still didn't help an entire baby kicking out of her. Didn't anyone get that? Now wasn't the time for anything other than whatever got this tiny person out.

Catra screamed and shook and writhed and no matter how many times Entrapta said push it blurred together. She let her head loll sideways in exhaustion. Adora stared at her seized by panic that could do nothing but watch, and hated it. It scratched at the unfocused rage gathering around her like storm clouds. Whatever she said fell hazy on Catra's ears because not a moment behind Catra yelled,

"Next time you're doing this; when this is over I'm kicking your ass AdorAHHGGUUHHH!!!"

Several deep breaths and pushes later a wail robbed anything she could say. Every voice stopped, every head turned and every ear strained. It came again. A high pitched wail echoed through the room. A baby's first cry. There was no time then; no past nor future only the moments for each cry hurled into the world. She watched a shape writhe in Entrapta's arms at the foot of the bed. A flash of metal later and the umbilical cord was cut.

Everything remained a blur...then Entrapta handed her a squirming bundle. The baby rested against her easier than breathing. It was just, so right; one of the most right things Catra ever knew. Their fur matched her tan orange down to the slightly darker stripes. The hair is all Catra; she'd recognize that messy brown anywhere. It's when they blink at her for the first time, that's when Adora's blue eyes stare back.

Their hands are curled into fists and they fuss under her gaze. They blink once, twice, Catra finds herself counting everything. A purr deep enough to rattle them took her by surprise. At last her claws retracted from Adora's skin; she cradled their child between measured breaths. The instant she's released Adora doesn't waste a second coming closer.

They look at each other then their child then back again. Tears are the first thing they feel together followed by Adora's lopsided grin.

"Still wanna kick my ass?"

"Shut up and get in here dummy."

Catra's voice is hoarse but that doesn't lessen the spark in their kiss. Fingers tangle in Catra's sweaty hair and she's breathless when they pull away. There's a moment of silence until Entrapta gets the drop on them. Of course she does, she's Entrapta. They can spy the glint off her tape recorder.

"Just to confirm the baby is healthy at seven pounds eight ounces, a length of twenty centimeters, tail included, and a sex of male. Now the real question is have either of you chosen a name?"

The thick tendril of Entrapta's hair holding her recorder wiggles closer. Catra snarled on impulse and fought to not snap her teeth too.

"Don't hold that thing so close to Finn's face. The sound or whatever's gonna hurt his ears."

"Finn? You want to call him Finn? I thought you still weren't sure about any names." Adora said with the slightest confusion.

"Yeah I was but...I dunno it just feels right. Doesn't he look like a Finn? Hey Scorpia come over here! Does he or does he not look like a Finn?"

If it was possible for scorpions to move like they wanted to break the sound barrier without actually doing so, that was how Scorpia rushed over. Honestly Catra would laugh if she weren't cradling her son as if guarding her trove. Those enormous pincers are enough to shadow Finn's head as he attempts to swat one. Instead Adora gave him a finger to cling on. The tears streaking from Scorpia's eyes dripped waterfalls down her chin.

"Wildcat you're asking me what he looks like? Oh of course he's a Finn, look at that handsome little face and that tiny nose! And his hair! Catra that one is all you oh that stuff is gonna break so many combs I tell ya. He's even got his claws already; you guys have a mama's boy on your hands gosh. I remember when Flora hatched, ah good times..."

"Scorpia..."

"Huh? Oh sorry Wildcat yeah he's definitely a Finn! What'd ya think Adora? Entrapta?"

"Hmm...Baby Log Day, well day of birth. Catra has asked me if her newborn resembles a 'Finn'. As the only knowledge I'm aware of regarding this relates to fish, I will say yes. Fish and their fins are something cats enjoy and thus it is logical."

The line of stares fixed on her made Entrapta press her recorder.

"Addendum, it is also very cool."

"Adora?" Catra called.

Every stare turned toward her awaiting a verdict. Finn gurgled and squirmed when she met his stare. There fell a moment of purest silence.

"Yeah. Finn is a good name. We'll get him ready to propel through life."

There was an echoing 'thwack' when Catra smacked Adora's hair poof; Adora's giggling poured out even as Glimmer, Bow, and every Princess they knew finally appeared. Catra's bed was rushed by a crowd acting like they'd never seen an infant. Then again, no one had seen anyone of Catra's race all her life. Not that she'd asked around.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't come sooner! The meeting ran into overtime but we're here now. Where's the baby?"

Glimmer moved through the parting crowd as she spoke; her body radiated energy while her eyes scanned around. She and Bow must've shared the same mind because they were the first to study Finn. Their jaws dropped.

"So. Darned. Cute. Those ears." Bow said. His eyes practically sparkled with joy.

Glimmer looked at Catra, then Adora with a face that fought a hold on restraint.

"You guys can hold him. Just don't crowd his space." Catra said smiling.

Those were the words that released whatever collective breath everyone held. Finn was passed around the room leaving praise and awe in his wake. Everyone had their own opinions; so much so that the buzz of their chatting built Catra's headache right as Finn was finally returned. Frosta was yelling about how to shape a commemorative ice sculpture; Perfuma created several bouquets now burying Adora. Bow, Entrapta, and Scorpia stood putting their heads together discussing proper baby nutrition over the next year.

When she checked Finn his face grew red then wrinkled and that's when it hit. A full strength wail. The kind of cry to break noise into silence and validate Catra's agitation. Something resembling peace slid over the tension settling in the air. Adora managed to roll out of the flowers before looking at Catra. A nod in response is all she needs to wrangle everyone away. When the door closes for the last time only the three of them remain.

Finn continued crying though nowhere as intense. Catra took a deep breath, then she held the infant face down, tucked his arms across his chest, and finished by holding his bottom. She had to give herself credit; not a single mistake, Perfuma may as well have done it for her. The cries quieted immediately and ceased when she gently rocked him. In a minute he lay snuggled on her chest. Sleep made his eyes fight to stay open though he soon lost.

"He curls up just like you."

"Yeah. We'll see if he keeps the whole castle awake with your snoring." Catra replied chuckling.

Adora is beside her in seconds with that lopsided grin. The bed gets crowded bearing the three of them but it'll manage.

"I'm not an awful snorer ok; everyone's gonna survive when they sleep. They've done it this long."

"So you admit it's a problem."

"No! Anyway that's not important look at his chubby cheeks. That's all him."

"Babe, I think that's something every baby has. Did you forget all seven of Scorpia's kids, or even Bow and Glimmer's daughter?"

"Of course not but you're not looking at them. We made those. They're perfect and adorable as much as the rest of him."

Adora stroked Finn's hair and nestled against Catra's side. Together they yawned then laughed.

"Tired?"

"I gave birth Adora of course I am."

"Heh, sorry. Nighty night you two."

She's long learned Adora's penchant for sleeping hard enough to make the dead jealous. How exactly she can turn it on and off yet thrash restlessly, still waking up then tackling an entire day? After years Catra might never know and, some days, didn't care to anymore. It simply was. That was Adora, always rushing to do everything, solve every problem, take every blow. No matter how much their loved ones- no matter how many times Catra told her otherwise some piece stayed. It was like an infection molded into Adora's skin.

God did Catra still hate it. If Finn inherited that...

Her body ached worse than getting dragged by rope. She would know; Glimmer had been the one pulling after all. In those days of war and violence whipped into a storm this feeling was nothing new. Yet it was. Now there came a new tired setting on her bones. The tired from achieving something bigger than herself yet selfish in origin. Well, maybe the selfish part hadn't changed.

Maybe she really can be good not just do good. Adora began to snore as Catra let sleep claim her.

When Finn turns one year old Catra has settled into the race of parenthood. There's feeding time, nap time, diaper changing, the once a week checkups, and making a fool of herself so Finn laughs. One day passes with the funneled energy of several; no longer can she rise with the sun into a cage of rumination. Finn dictates her snapping awake on whims as random as the harried sleep itself.

She can't mope she just can't, he won't let her. He needs her and for the first time even beyond Adora, Catra accepts it. Not hesitating or doubting or anything else. Not the painstaking slip and climb over struggle after struggle until she and Adora were finally level. Finn right now is only a creature of needs; without her...she doesn't want to think further. There is finally someone for whom she can only give at the very beginning. The stress is worth it, it's not about her faults.

Perfuma notices of course. The way she walks ever eager into their meetings, even with eye-bags, stands far more confident than the hesitation that made her drag her feet. From the stares she gets now it's as if persecution and guilt lie only in her shadow. At least, that's what she thinks Perfuma means when one meeting she says,

"You look radiant Catra! Have you been keeping up with your personal letters?"

The morning light shines behind Perfuma making her hair resemble a glow. Combined with her chipper voice and pristine skincare (Seriously how did she keep up with seven kids at her heels?) Catra would be getting a headache right now. The old her would think Perfuma above her wielding such composure, such carefree grace. The her of the present instead replies weary but smiling.

"I have. For real this time too. No more skipping days."

"Oh lovely, I'm glad you're coming around. Self reflection and forgiveness can be so liberating; never forget you're allowing yourself space and patience. Walk with me."

She's heard those words enough to make her head spin, but now they land in her heart. A warmth seeps in the way she thinks Perfuma always intended. If she had to reflect now as they pass Scorpia's gardens, she wouldn't call messy hair, tired eyes, and what might be clothes from two days ago radiant. Perfuma probably wasn't being literal.

The trails of Perfuma's green shawl (Seemingly more fluttery today than usual; like butterfly wings if she had to compare) stop inside a wide room. Catra knows which pillow to sit on and in seconds Perfuma is across her. Their eyes meet then close before performing a basic breathing exercise. One breath in and Catra gathers her worries, one pause, on the exhale her body relaxes.

Her eyes open and find Perfuma doing the same. The ear to ear smile on her face still unnerves Catra like a pinprick; it's strange to be so happy in a world built on entropy. Catra's allowed that hesitation, right? No she's being an idiot again; she's seen Perfuma a mess, back when Scorpia and all her people contorted under Horde Prime's marching orders, under the chips once burrowed in their flesh.

Regardless she'd never given up then. She hadn't been Catra running away the minute she projected doubt on Adora. She shook her head and sighed. This was getting nowhere. Of course for her part Perfuma sat in silence, waiting for as much time as Catra needed. She smiled shyly at that.

"Sorry got lost in reflecting I guess."

"It's alright Catra that's what we're here for. Do you want to share your thoughts?"

"I think you already know after this long." Catra licked her lips nervously.

"I don't mind listening."

A long pause. She read nothing but openness in Perfuma's eyes.

"You know I've said before I was jealous of you, unnerved even. How could anyone stay so happy when the world hurts? Well now I think I understand. There's no point in dwelling on my pain. Sure I can feel it, acknowledge it, but it'll pass again. Letting it control me when it's something I'll carry forever is exhausting. All I've done then is hurt myself when for once no one else wants to. That's what Finn's made me realize."

She finished with a sigh and slackened shoulders; a woman spent at last of a pointless barrier. Isolation was no longer a badge of honor; it never had been. Perfuma wore genuine surprise like she'd heard something profound, not Catra stating the obvious. When Perfuma next spoke the words poured out afraid to stop. Afraid, Catra senses, that Catra will bolt away in embarrassment.

"I'm proud of you that's the most you've shared all at once yet. And it sounds like it truly means self-love. You're allowing vulnerability and have accepted a truth. We are all works in progress."

"Thanks. I guess I have." The tears flowing down Catra's face make her voice wobble.

"Would you like a hug?"

With a nod Catra opened her arms and wept into Perfuma's dress; she wept the choked yet earnest sobs of a child. She felt a hand pat her hair.

"What happened when you were a child, it's not your fault."

There comes a pause where Catra stiffens then pulls back but not away. Her watery eyes glisten under the light while the rest of her trembles. Her lips quiver wanting to fight a new sob on instinct; it makes her teeth grit. None of it is hostile, Catra stares at Perfuma who again brings down the axe on the final barrier tainting her heart. Despite herself the words are out; Shadow Weaver installed that defense mechanism in her, denial.

"It is...it is."

"It's not your fault."

"But it is! I deserved it because I couldn't fight back!"

"It's not your fault."

"It...I...did."

Catra's face scrunched under the weight of the lie. She gets a solemn head shake in response. The sick sensation in her chest crumbles and her body feels no stronger than jelly. This time she clings back in Perfuma's embrace. She wails. Perfuma's reassurance pierces the scared girl inside gentle as sunshine.

"It's not your fault."

When the flood within her passes they mulled over tea. The silence now settled almost as comfortable as being with Adora. If Catra thought harder on it though, maybe silences themselves didn't need Adora to be good. Maybe the truth is Adora isn't the only bond to believe in; the others have waited on Catra long enough. She feels a pang of guilt at that. It flickers then dies when she hears the question,

"How are you and Finn? You mentioned him earlier."

"Kinda speaks for itself just looking at me y'think? But uh, sorry. It's been great; busy every second and sometimes I wanna tear my hair out but...in the end I really do like being a mom. It's not just about loving Finn and having him with Adora either. It's also like...I dunno..."

"Like starting over; a second chance?"

"Yeah...yeah I think it is." Catra smiled.

"The advice I can give for that is don't forget you're still guiding him. Parenting with compassion and trust will help you both, but he must find himself and make his choices."

She had nothing to add other than slight alarm. Then the weight behind the words settled, planted seeds in her thoughts. She stared out the window drinking her tea; her mind drifted and for once the peace of it wasn't strange.

When Finn is two years old he shivers in her arms. The storm sent another sheet of rain beating against the castle. Grey covers the window glass and another lightening flash dimly illuminates the room. In the span of a blink it's gone; Finn mewled stuffing part of Catra's shirt in his mouth. Her hand ran through his hair. That seemed to relax his hold.

He looked up at her with Adora's wide blue eyes and for an instant Catra remembers being six, Adora's blanket her only comfort on nights like this.

"It's a thunderstorm Finn. I know it sounds scary but it'll pass ok? It always has before. You were too little to remember."

"Where's Mommy?"

She hears the fear getting ahold of him; she answers a touch too fast. It takes everything in her hoping he didn't notice.

"With Auntie Glimmer remember? They're meeting about adult stuff. We have to wait."

"I want her here."

"I know Finn, I know. She's coming. You're ok with me. Nothing bad will happen. Mommy's coming soon."

He nodded and though he whimpered he concentrated on Catra alone. At the next roar of thunder however he stiffened with his tail gone frizzy. The door opened bringing a stripe of light and Adora's unmistakable silhouette. Immediately Finn sprang out of Catra's arms to tackle Adora's legs. Catra hears her gasp then laugh softly as she kneels.

"Mommy! Be She-Ra!"

"Hey there to you too Finn. Why do you want She-Ra out?"

"Make bad sounds go away."

"It's the weather, I don't control that. Weren't you safe with Mama? Look she's waiting for us and I bet she stayed the whole time."

"But I want Mama and Mommy..."

Catra left bed and kneeled beside Adora. She ruffled Finn's hair; his tears were gone with a swipe of her thumb. Adora held his hands smiling while Catra went on.

"It's ok to be scared. We won't leave you not ever."

"Even when one of us isn't here with you, remember we love you. Think real hard about us when you're scared and all the bad stuff will go away."

Finn sniffled, swallowed, fumbled to speak those words they knew were sacred.

"You promise?"

"Yes." They reply together.

More thunder cracks the air signaling another swell of hissing rain. She watched as he froze squeezing his eyes shut. His hands balled into fists; he didn't flinch or cry when the storm gentled again. Now he stood trembling but no less brave. The warmth spreading through Catra was mirrored in the indescribable pride on Adora's face. She reached for her hand and it was held.

"Like that?" Finn asked, staring at them as if everything hinges on this moment.

"Just like that."

Catra kisses his forehead; it's no time at all until they hug him close. His heartbeat calms under their embrace and she purrs; it's always as hard as the day he was born. The purr she feels back widens her eyes then-

"Mama why're you crying?"

"She's happy you did it, right Catra?"

"Yeah...I'm happy Finn."

She shivers at Adora's kiss on her cheek. The touch of her breath tickling when she whispers almost makes Catra purr, for a reason neither can say aloud. She wraps her tail around Adora's wrist and listens.

"I'll get him to bed ok. Won't be long."

Catra mumbles her reply against her lips,

"I know."

They kiss and though it's a second before Adora pulls away, Catra knows peace.

At three years old Finn runs through the halls whooping and hollering. The stuffed bear glides through the air in his grasp. She knows Mr. Snuggles will need a wash when the day's done. Cupping her hands around her mouth she gently calls after.

"Don't run so fast you'll trip. Watch where you're going."

"Yeah Mama I know!"

Of course the thud she expected comes not an instant later. Even if he landed on carpet her blood pounds in panic; she sprints light on her feet toward his side. No second is wasted righting him from laying flat on his belly. She checks his arms, his legs, his face, the back of his head is fine too. He holds his wrist looking down ashamed.

"My head hurts."

"It's alright we'll get some medicine before seeing Mommy. Next time watch out ok? I might not have been here to help."

He nodded but still won't meet her eyes. Her expression falls. She sits with her hand giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze; her tail twitched nervously. Finn is silent. Far more than if he acted up or felt too embarrassed. The air itself feels heavier as if to breathe means starting a count down before down becomes up and left is right. Her voice shakes ever so slightly. Was this because of her?

"Finn? What's wrong? Does it hurt real bad?"

"Auncle Dee Tee told me something that made me feel funny. Flora and Angella said boys get hurt a lot when they play. B-But I like girl games with them too! When I fell I remembered what Auncle Dee Tee said."

"That's just silly there aren't 'boy' and 'girl' games. Just games. What'd Auncle say?"

"They said that too. They said nobody has to be a girl or boy if they don't want to. They said a big word like 'nuhncun-foming' I think."

She hears footsteps round the corner, a walk she could pick out anywhere. Adora stops then assesses; she wastes no time coming to them. Immediately her face is knit in worry and concentration. Catra knows that look better than herself. The look of a soldier, of years honed as a commanding officer, the look her fantasies once replicated dreaming of their conquest of Etheria...it's never appeared serene as it does now.

It reminds her not for the last time she's not alone.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt Finn? I knew I heard something bump on my way over."

"He tripped and fell but it's not serious. I checked already. He just has a headache."

"Good. C'mon let's go get medi-"

"Adora wait. He had something important he was saying. Finn? Can you tell Mommy what you told me?"

His expression finally lights up again; courage gathered when he stands straighter and stares at them firm.

"When I fell I remembered what Auncle told me. They said some people don't feel like they're just a boy or girl. My girl friends said boys fall a lot playing; I like their girl stuff where we don't fall a lot too! I wanna...I wanna be like Auncle. Auncle sounds like me."

They sat and the silence turned to awe. They glanced at one another then at Finn, who stood in utmost seriousness. Double Trouble's words floated to the surface of Catra's memories. She had to step outside her own head right? Well this time the world did it well enough for her. Adora as usual is the first to make a move.

"What do you want us to call you?"

"I'm Finn! I don't wanna be a boy or a girl I wanna be both! I wanna do everything I like as me. Can I be 'nunhcuhnfoming' too?"

To their surprise they chuckle as Finn looks on, conviction dropping into worry. Catra grinned and pulled Finn into a hug.

"You can be whatever you want kid including nonconforming. We're not gonna say no to anything like that."

"Do you want us to still call you 'He'?" Adora said in a tone that announces she's not worrying herself sick for once.

"Nuh uh! Auncle uses 'They'."

"Then that's what we'll use too. Thanks for telling us Finn."

Finn, they, beam from ear to ear. They picked up and dusted off Mr. Snuggles holding him close. They purr echoing through the hall; by instinct Catra joins in while Adora plants kisses all over Finn's cheeks.

"Does your head still hurt?"

"A little..."

"Let's go make it better then."

Finn is four when their troublemaking streak starts to shine. They let Adora chase them through the back gardens at a sprint. It's an unspoken dare to crown who's faster and watching from the sidelines, Catra doesn't need to guess it's Finn. Like what she imagined of any child of hers Finn scampers up a tree next. They wave a toy and blow a raspberry down at Adora who's panting for dear life. Her poor fool never stood a chance.

Adora stands hunched over, her finger raised to call a time out. She's still gathering her breath when Catra hears her force out words as she walks toward them both.

"Ok give Mommy a break for...five minutes...or forever. Ugh."

"You're too slow so I win!"

They watch as Finn sticks their tongue out again. Catra kneels to pat Adora's shoulder. She plants a kiss in her hair and grins.

"Hate to say it but I told you they'd beat you. Give it up Adora."

"I'll never...understand...how you two...do it...so unfair."

"Only She-Ra can win a race with me Mommy. If you're She-Ra it's really hard to keep up."

Still wheezing Adora glanced at Catra in defeat. A shrug is all she gets in response. Finn sits on a branch above them swinging their legs, the embodiment of confidence. Then they do something that throws off even Catra; they hang from their perch by the tail. Upside down Finn pays no heed to their gaping Mama and instead teases Adora with another raspberry. She falls on her ass yelping.

A choked giggle left Catra before rising to laughter. By the time she's full on snorting she rolls in the grass; upside down Adora scowls at them both but it's all in fun. The way she sees her blush makes her nerves go fluttery. She doesn't need to be told when their eyes meet and Catra knows it's mutual. Before anything can come of it Finn lands on the ground effortlessly.

She watches them tug Adora's sleeve; the fake modesty and flattering lilt they're piling on too thick gives them away. The fact that they can hold the performance this well is far more a Catra thing than Adora. She feels hesitant pride bubble within her. Could she have that knowing where it came from?

"Mommy my toy got stuck up there, can She-Ra get it? Because she's faster and stuff."

"Finn I can't keep transforming all week."

"Pleeease? It's the last day today; you said I could ask sometimes."

"Damnni-uh I mean I remember. Fine but only because you asked nicely."

Catra doesn't need to be an Entrapta-level genius to hear the unspoken, 'And because I totally lost too.' Finn definitely hears it by the satisfaction in their grin. With a resigned sigh Adora straightened and stretched out a hand. From the bottom of her lungs she bellowed,

"For the Honor of Greyskull!"

A blinding light engulfed Adora from the outline of a golden sword. Catra still had no idea where it always came from. It was of course magic however; you never had to question that kind of thing. She figured that was why it felt comforting, familiar, compared to hard numbers. Most of all, she muses as the light dims, magic embodies everything Adora has been long before the sword.

The light leaves dissolving into rainbow trails. They outline She-Ra's massive form towering at eight feet. Her arms are almost as thick as the tree branches themselves when she begins to climb. Finn watched with their jaw hanging and eyes wide. Their fists rest against their teeth as if every transformation will be the last each time; the anticipation mixed with joy is almost palpable when it infects Catra.

She nudges them while Adora gets tangled in leaves. Finn's rapture breaks and they flash her a knowing smile.

"You love being sneaky huh?"

"She-Ra is cool!"

They look up together and find Adora fumbling not to fall. Though She-Ra carries a noble poise Adora is very much the one nervously sweating. Catra grinned.

"She's very cool."

Adora successfully lands without a scratch; the toy rocket is the size of a river stone in She-Ra's large hand. In an instant it's back to scale when She-Ra is dismissed, a gold afterglow outlining Adora. It hits Catra then that Finn has grown at level with Adora's waist. When did that happen over the years?

"One missing toy rescued from an evil tree. It won't be eating any more any time soon."

"Thanks Mommy. No more She-Ra for a little bit."

"Right. Mommy needs breaks just like She-Ra does too."

Catra takes Adora's hand and wraps her tail around her. Her purr is soft though outmatched by the gentle kiss she gives her wife. She glanced at Finn who waits expectantly; the toy is already forgotten in favor of another game. Catra chuckles.

"Ok Finn you've had enough of bossing Mommy. This time I'll race you home."

"Loser has to give up dessert!"

"Sure kid. Ready set go!"

Like a bullet Catra sprints down the low hill; she barely hears Finn's call above the wind. In seconds they're right behind and she finds herself laughing carefree into the dusk.

Finn is five when their fur becomes their first taste of responsibility. Their tail is a mess of frizz most mornings; their thick hair resembles a mop fighting against every tame comb they own. Catra does her best to guide them, but she hasn't been five in twenty years. The memories since remain dark and pressed under the claws of greater horrors. Had she ever had time to brush herself seriously then? Not a relevant question; this isn't the time for self grieving.

Finn fusses, tries again, then scowls. They look at her with a plea in their eyes. Catra blinks then finds them slumping shoulders and lips quivering. Their hair seems messier than before for every wrong stroke. It takes her longer than she'd like to notice the budding tears.

"Hey it's ok we'll keep trying. It's hard at first but you can do it."

"Bet it's easy for you Mama."

"Why's that?"

"Because you never get messy. Your hair is always pretty."

Catra beckons and they come within her reach. She wipes their tears, smoothes their tangles best she can. They stare into her eyes with that intensity only they can muster.

"I used to be worse than you. When I was your age I had no one helping me."

"Not even Mommy?"

Catra laughed quiet and gentle, always gentle.

"She tried but she was as small as you. And we know Mommy doesn't look the same; she didn't know how. Do you know how old I was when I learned to keep my hair pretty? Really got good at it?"

Finn shook their head. She could sense the sadness give way to curiosity, to a rising hope.

"I was already a grown up. Wayyy bigger than you y'know? If it took me so long there's no rush. You keep trying until it works ok."

"Ok..."

"Let's start over. Just watch me first."

Time passes in a haze enough for her to learn Finn took after her old temper; step by patient step her hands once drenched in the blood of another life calm them to retry. They break for lunch and laugh together, their mistakes now harmless behind them. This, Catra has learned, is completion.

Princess Prom makes everyone nervous and excited equally. She watches Finn, taller than most other ten year olds, adjust their tie. She smiles remembering how many they'd tried on that morning without complaint. How when the right one came along they'd strutted prideful for her and Adora's opinion. They fidget flexing their hand and rocking on their heels. She can't blame them; the announcer's droning speech packs more formality than Catra thought was possible.

Put simply, it's boring, and they both fight a yawn. Adora doesn't notice them tap their feet together, one leading the other following, until another six minutes that pass like hours. She shushes them but when another minute crawls by she joins in. The three of them form a jagged rhythm while holding back giggles.

When the solemnity is done away with and the dance floor opens they lose Finn to their friends. She sends them off with a cheek kiss and Adora's blessing to have fun, then they're alone. They whisk themselves to the snack bar; she watches Adora gorge on tiny food like she's taken Entrapta's appetite for herself. Smirking as she leans against the table she knows Adora can feel her gaze.

"Alright Princess charge your battery any more and I'll dance by myself."

"Noa faish wahit fo me!" Adora forced out through a mouthful.

"Hey easy there. What's that translate to?"

Adora swallows hard and snorts at her.

"I said no fair wait for me. Now you're getting payback."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try."

Before she can register it a cupcake is smashed into her mouth. She can hear Adora laughing even when Catra serves one back in retaliation. By the time they've wasted three cupcakes they don't hear Scorpia saunter over. They nearly tumble face first into her serving tray.

"Whoa slow down guys! Party just started to get so worked up. You two sure love having fun."

"Sorry Scorpia didn't see you there. Catra wants to hurry and dance; I want to savor what Entrapta had prepared tonight."

Catra stuck out her tongue and laughed when Adora elbowed her side in jest. When they look over Scorpia has forgone food entirely. She stares at them, her eyes glistening from would be tears.

"You guys are just adorable did you know that?"

"You remind us all the time." Catra replied and wrapped an arm around Adora.

"Actually uh, on second thought, I've got icing down my dress. Excuse me ladies."

Adora gives her a peck of a kiss before disappearing. Catra watched her go spellbound by the soft lights cast on everyone. Adora's outline is dreamlike, Catra can hear her breath hitch. Then far too suddenly she's gone. It's funny, she no longer feels the pain that once tore through her fast as lightening. Maybe parting no longer means goodbye. She knows she always knew.

"Y'know Wildcat I gotta say I've never seen you look this happy. Well happier than that time in the Crimson Wastes. Oh or when Finn was born. It's nice."

"Heh. We're in the same boat then. I can't even tell when it started."

"Wanna know how I can tell this time?"

The intensity in Scorpia's tone made Catra straighten. She stopped trying to eat another cupcake and met her gaze.

"It's the eyes. They're so clear these days. They're empty, not in a bad way. Like...it's like you can take on anything. You've got resolve but it's not angry."

"Calm?"

"Yeah. Calm and whole. That's some strength even I don't think I have yet. Your eyes can see through anything."

"Geez way to praise a girl. I think I get it though. Adora's been saying something similar. Glimmer, Bow, Perfuma...everyone brings it up somehow. They act like I'm supposed to know just haven't told them." Catra smiles around a bite of her snack. It was achingly sweet yet she closed her eyes and tasted the love put in.

"Of course they see it too. Every truly strong person is kind."

Catra's eyes widen. For a moment she moves as if to speak then instead smiles, content. Her heart feels light as a feather.

She spots Adora returning through the crowd. Everyone parts reverently for the savior of the galaxy; to Catra it's another homecoming. They don't need the titles or praise; at last having each other, having themselves, is enough.

Scorpia takes her leave just as Adora emerges. The teasing look she wore before is replaced by excitement; the kind that simply is because it can be. Without prompting she offered Catra her hand. She's seen this scene countless times in as many settings. She takes it.

"Ready for that dance I owe you?"

It happens in an instant; Catra reads her eyes. They're calm, resolved, kind. Her reflection stares back within their clarity. She smiles. She hopes Finn will have those eyes someday.

"Always am."

#my writing #spop #catradora #glimbow #scorfuma #finn spop

15 notes · View notes

uhhhhyandere · 4 years

Note

I love, love, love you ❤️ I was hoping I could request where the main character begs for Yandere Light to let her get a doggo bc she’s so lonely since he made her quit a job. Like full on having a full ass fit. I’m talking full blown brat shit. Just how he would react and what she would have to do to convince him if you catch that drift 😏😉

yeah, i know what i said in my last post. whatever. never believe anything that comes out of my stupid mouth i am the single biggest sob in the universe.

um… i took this in a… direction to say the least. someone has to stop me from riding suck n’ ride smut bc… it always goes like this.

next light smut there is going to be ass-eating or i swear to god my name isn’t kerry literally all im thinking about is giving him a rimjob. really. this is where we are at folks.

warnings: smut, face fucking (oops), dick sucking, sex, rough sex. he not happy boi

word count: 3.5k

All you did was watch dog videos anymore. Of course, you watched them because you literally had little else to do during the day, but you just… happened to be more open about it when Light came through the door. Did it have anything to do with the fact you’ve been thinking about getting a furry friend to keep you company from the silence of an empty house and the dark recesses of your mind?

No, of course not. It had nothing at all to do with it, and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that if you ask him directly, he would say no before any more words could breach the air. You would have to be creative, because when Light said “no,” there was no more argument, and you wanted this argument.

“A Pug. Wow. Beautiful.”

“Look, it’s a—it’s a Corgi. Oh my—wow. That’s amazing.”

You’d play around with different sizes.

“This Mastiff? This gentle giant? Can do nothing wrong.”

“This Bichon matches with the snow!”

And you’d talk about listings you just happened to see online from the local shelters.

“This one—wow. All of her shots. She looks so nice. Oh, and potty trained! What a girl. Damn.”

“He’s sitting down—oh a paw. I see a paw. Can he do the other paw? Oh, yes he can. Also has all his shots. Wonderful.”

Considering the man you lived with, you were pretty positive that he figured out your intentions day one or day two max. It’s been about a week since you’ve been… outgoing in your interest. At this point, it was a game as to who would break first. You bet he was waiting for you to get annoyed with his ignoring of anything you said related to the subject with how blatant he was with shirking you off, forcing you to simply ask.

You weren’t going to make it so easy on him. Though he happened to be the king of hiding his emotions, you knew you had to be getting to him. Light would never admit it, and he would certainly never show it. He wanted to keep that satisfaction as far away from you as possible.

So, you turned up the heat.

Before, you would break off the dog topic after a time, wanting to etch it in your daily schedule only bits at a time. Now? It’s the only thing you talk about, no matter the actual subject at hand.

“There’s another event we have to—.”

“The animal shelter is having an event in the park next week for adoptions.”

“I’m going to have to go for groceries soon.”

“Look at this weenie dog dressed in a weenie costume.”

“I—.”

“Doggo cute.”

It was only a matter of time until—.

“This French Bulldog is—.”

“Y/N.” His voice was clear, demanding. Even after all this time, like a teacher scolding elementary students, it immediately brought you to silence. You sat on your shared bed, legs crossed, as he leered down at you from the bathroom. “I would say it was cute at first, but you know it’s a waste of time to try asking anything indirectly. As if I would succumb to your manipulation, but I let you carry on. You would get bored. You would stop and think and realize that it was pointless to keep it up, but you persisted. I thought to myself maybe you were just trying to see if I would crack and give you the satisfaction of indulging in your antics, and I was right.

“It begs the question. Why didn’t you just ask directly? Easy. Because I would say no, and you would be correct. To allow something else besides me your devotion? Not likely. But what? Did you think showing me videos of Shibu Inus and Pomeranians would make me want one first? You have the logic of a six-year-old, Y/N,” Light began to unbutton his shirt, “Did you honestly think it would work? Or did you simply want to get a rise out of me?” He removed the shirt entirely, then lifted his undershirt over his head just as easily. Light tossed the fabric into the hamper, leaving a pale, lithe abdomen on display. He turned to fully face you and took two easy steps forward. “Why would you want one in the first place? Have I not given my fiancée enough attention recently? Is this your way of getting back at me, hm?”

You were almost at an even height to his belt buckle, but you did your best to ignore that as his eyes demanded attention upwards. His gaze was near malicious, but not quite so. Ah. Lascivious. That’s what they were. You swallowed the knot out of your throat.

“Y-you wish.”

“Your hesitation is very resounding. Then, if you’re so sure, indulge me. Don’t tell me you wanted a distraction from your loving husband-to-be. I know you didn’t want something else to focus on besides me when I’m away at work, so tell me. Tell me why you desired a filthy, shedding ball of fur. Your answer may earn you some mercy.”

You unfolded your legs from underneath you as your foot began to numb under the weight of your leg. Your hands glided back and forth on your thighs. Was there a point in lying? No, scratch that. Was there a point in lying to someone who already knew the truth? Well, his own truth that Light would undoubtedly make yours. There was little purpose in making it worse on yourself.

“No, you’re—uh—right.” Light set his hands on his hips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m just… lonely when you’re at work. So… yeah.” You risked a peek upwards. Oh, geez the smirk on that fucker. “I’m sorry.” His arms rose from his hips to cross over his chest.

“For?”

“Huh?”

“What are you sorry for? Annoying me for days with your drivel? Wanting a mutt? Lying?” You furrowed your brows. “Oh, that one confused you, hm? Alright, well, if you won’t admit it, I can do it for you. Lonely-“ he scoffed- “You can’t be serious. Such a blatant lie from your lips. The second time you are insulting my intelligence. I’ll ask one more time. Where does your motivation lie?”

“I’m not lying!” You hissed, jumping off the mattress to stand. “What—just what am I supposed to do all day cooped up in this place like a goddamned prisoner? Clean? The place is clean. Cook? As if you’d even let me try. Watch TV? My brain is rotting. You don’t even let me help kids with math anymore online. Just what am I to do? Next thing I may just throw myself out the window—,” Hands gripped your shoulders, causing a slight pain at the intensity.

“You think I’d let you? I expect you to stay here and be good and thankful that you are where you are. I, just as much as you, know—knew women who died to be in your shoes, and you’re ungrateful to be alive and safe? You want more?” You tried to shrug out of his grip, and he allowed you to take the steps away from him.

“I’m asking to be a human being, for fuck’s sake! I’m going to sit here and go crazy. Isn’t it enough that I don’t fuck with the rules anymore? I’m quiet. I don’t say anything. I put every façade you ask me to. All I want is something for me! Something to distract me from literally going insane here! To distract me from everything.”

Light’s eyes sometimes spoke more truth than his mouth ever could. Right about now, the browns were all-consuming, aflame with ire, but his lips were upturned in a challenge.

“A distraction. Caught in a lie, Y/N. Bad form, even for you. After all this time, you still can’t face reality, dearest. I knew you’ve been pitting your mind in some gutter you call the truth. Makes this all easier to accept, but to go to the physical extent? I won’t allow it, and you won’t be able to recess your mind for long, so enjoy that pleasure while you can.” He paused, countenance recessing to something more composed. “You love me, don’t you, Y/N?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, no lie in that affirmation. It was the easiest of his questions to answer. “I love you.” Light inhaled deeply, chest flexing with the exhale.

“With love comes compromise, correct?” You responded with a glare. His tone was all too insinuating. “So, let’s compromise, yes? I hate arguing with you.” He reached an arm out, hand open. Your eyes glanced between the extended limb and his eyes before cautiously taking it. His hand squeezed and pulled you in tight. Light twisted and adjusted you so when he fell onto the bed, you landed comfortably on his lap. Releasing your hand, he brought his own up to gingerly glide his fingers across your cheek, a trail of bumps in its wake as it curled into your locks. Almost like a lover. Almost.

His fingers seized the strands and pulled, forcing your head back and opening your neck for his mouth to latch. “Then compromise, dearest. Prove to me what you think you deserve.” He spoke against your skin, open-mouth kisses with a hint of teeth between his words. “And I’ll make judgement.” His hand let go of your hair and traced to the back of your skull to slant your lips onto his impatient ones. The other wrapped itself to pull your body closer until he pushed you off with an unexpected force, almost knocking you to the ground.

From the unbalanced position, you watched him adjust his position to lie in the center of the bed, head angled to watch you from the pillows with both his hands as another cushion for his crown. Light smirked, watching you stand straight. “Well, go on. Compromise.”

Light was never on the bottom. It was non-negotiable. Being anything else was utterly unacceptable for a god. This situation, despite the physical placement of both bodies, was no different. You may be the one crawling on top of him, fiddling with his belt buckle, but he had every bit of this situation in his control. Under his watchful gaze, you removed the strip of leather and threw it across the room.

“You’re going to have to help me here,” you muttered after undoing the fly. Wordlessly, he obliged, allowing you to slip the trousers off of his person. You glanced at his feet. Thank god he took his shoes off already, so he only lied in his boxers.

No, you would never be accustomed to this.

“You always look like it’s your first time,” he remarked. “As if you haven’t seen my cock before. From my recollection, you should be quite familiar with it by now.” You inhaled sharply. “Unless you don’t want to compro—.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, crawling to straddle his legs. “Just be quiet,” you said more quietly. You reached out to rub the only half-erect cock through the fabric. Only small groans were elicited above you. Light was not a noisy one, to say the least. It took your first, painful, terrible experience of deep-throating to even get him to moan fully.

“Do you think teasing is going to get you anywhere?” His voice is always composed during sex, and it really was alarming because… you really couldn’t relate. You glowered, fingers digging under the waistband and pulling. He helped again, lifting so you can get the fabric off. “If you think you’re doing anything fully clothed, I should take a cold shower.”

You made quick work of taking the layers of comfort clothes you had on, off. “You really know how to put on a show,” he deadpanned.

“Shut. Up.” You returned to your position, seeing his cock now fully erect from your previous work. You were sure you were wet, but you ignored it as best you could. You had a feeling you would not be serviced tonight. Before you can even lean down, he spoke again.

“Beg for it. Beg for the honor of sucking my cock. Convince me you deserve it if you believe you are so entitled.” There was not a single physical restriction to keep you from taking it into your mouth, but his words were powerful enough to keep you still. Light was daring you to try and misbehave, and you really couldn’t help the physical reaction his words always do to you.

“Please—,”

“Pathetic. I can have any girl in my bed. I can stick my cock in any person interested, and here you are, an ungrateful brat who wants more. You’re making quite an unremarkable argument for yourself. Perhaps I will take away—.”

“Please, Light. Allow me the honor of sucking your cock, of you fucking my throat. I want the privilege of swallowing your seed. Fuck—please. I’ll do anything.” You leaned down close, but not touching anything. You only lifted your eyes up to his. “Please. I know I’ve been bad. Please, let me make up for it.”

Your words in bed were always forced. He knew you hated dirty talk as much as you did, therefore he always made you speak, always made you confess how much you craved him, wanted him, and whenever you spoke it was hardly ever in lies. Your embarrassment was too prominent in your body language to tell him otherwise.

“Go on, then. Show me.” You licked up his length first, then around the head and back down. “Teasing will get you nowhere,” he repeated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and took him in, inch by inch. Light was incredibly average despite his ego. It wasn’t impossible to fit the entire length into your mouth with slow adjustment, but that didn’t mean it was fun. You would continue to work his length, getting more and less intense with your pressure and the speed your head bobbed. Still, there was little reaction from him, not there really never was any mind the grunts you could make out. Your inclinations to keep going, and you did until you pulled back.

“How’s—,” His hand was at the back of your head immediately, forcing your head back down, pushing his cock down your throat, pushing until you could feel his balls against your chin. No hair. He was pristine down there. You convulsed, gagged, choked, but he did not release his grip. Hand keeping its hold, he dragged your head up just a hair enough to thrust upwards. Water began to pool at the waterline of your eyes. You had to relax your throat, or this was going to be just worse.

But it was hard, so hard at the pace he was thrusting at. You squeezed your eyes shut and took it the best you can. Listening to his quiet grunts and groans, you forced your lips to continue covering your teeth, but you could not force your throat to loosen. Drool pooled at both sides of your mouth, carelessly falling into both him and the sheets along with the liquid of your tears.

“Your throat is so fucking tight. That’s it. Choke on my cock. This is what your dirty mouth deserves.” Your limited experience could be to blame for its restricting. That, or the selfishness of the man whose grip on your hair tightened even more right before he allowed you to breathe once more.

And breath you did. Gasping, reeling for air as drool continued to leak down. From beneath your hair, you looked at Light, his eyes wild and alive with lust. Small heaves from his smiling mouth mixed with your wet and heavy ones. “Do you think you deserved that, dearest?” You finally wiped your mouth and shook the spit from your arm. “You’re lucky I am so generous. Come. For doing such a decent job.” His hands patted his hips. Swollen eyes met his. “Ride me, before I change my mind and fuck you into the mattress.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you moved to straddle his length. “Oh, your pussy is glistening. Did me fucking your throat really do that much to you? You loved to be controlled, don’t you?” You did not answer, shaky hands guiding his cock so you can sink onto it. You groaned at the feeling. “Tell me how good it makes you feel. How only I can make you feel like this.” You bit your lip, sinking down another inch or so.

“God, Light. Your cock feels so good. Only yours can make me feel like this. No one—no man, no woman, no person—can make me feel anything—like—this—fuck!” You sunk down to the hilt before you lifted yourself again, easing yourself up and down his length. “It’s so good—so good.” Light allowed you more time but decided your gentle pace was not enough to soothe him. He roughly grabbed you and flipped your positions.

“Too slow, Y/N. What did I say about teasing?” He brought his hips back and then snapped them into yours. You screamed, and you wondered if the neighbors would call again, but his pace did not relent.

“Light—please. It’s too—too much! It’s too fast. I can’t…” He smiled, a wicked grin over you.

“And you won’t. Don’t you dare think about cumming. I decided you don’t deserve it. This is your compromise. You get to live, marry, and get fucked by me, and only by me, and I will only have eyes for you. You’ll never feel like you need a… distraction again.” You clenched your teeth and pushed your head farther into the pillows. “I feel you clenching onto me. Don’t you dare think about disobeying me.” His thrusts were even, balanced.

“Please, please, please let me cum. It feels too good. You feel too good. I’ll do anything.”

“Then don’t cum.” You threw your hands back and gripped the headboard, feeling it rock in rhythm to his thrusts. They were beginning to become, sloppy, wild, he was close while you were holding back for dear life. “Y/N. You are mine and mine alone. Your body. Your actions. Your mind. I am the only thing you are allowed to think about.” With one final push, his seed released, filling and coating your insides. He rode it out, making sure every drop stayed. He hated to have to wash the sheets after, though your drool stains remained.

Pulling out, he retreated and stood, ignoring your writing, unfulfilled form. “Come. You aren’t going to sleep like—get those hands away from there. Let’s get you clean before you ruin the sheets even more.” Like before, he extended his hand to your heaving form. “Alright, alright, I’ll take care of you, but you need to get cleaned up first.” An unstable hand fit into his own. His gently pulled you to stand and allowed you to lean your weight onto his.

Hot water cascaded down your body. Though Light effortlessly scrubbed washed his hair, you could not bring yourself to match his speed, and by the time he was already done, you hadn’t even washed your body yet. You heard an incomprehensible mutter amidst the running water as he left you alone. He was washing his face as you finally emerged, wrapped in your towel. No romance tonight, you figured. Not that it was any different than any other night. You followed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and taking your pills while he huddled in bed.

You could only dream of romance anymore. Getting your pajamas on, you approached the empty side of the bed. Before you could get on, Light shifted, opening his arms and staring at you expectantly. You froze. Did… did he want…? “Well, come on.” Ah. Was this supposed to be the ‘I’ll take care of you,’ he mentioned earlier? You supposed he would never wash you in the shower, so this would have to be it. You swallowed and fell into them, feeling his arm wrap you close to him so you lied nearly on your stomach, face buried in the crook between his neck and shoulders. His arm lied around your neck, the other near your elbow on the arm that sprawled on his chest. Oh, hello? What is this?

Ah. This is the quote-on-quote, attention he promised as a fiancé. His eyes remained closed as you stared. How forced was this? You wondered if he hated it, if he saw it was succumbing to your wishes, but it was unlikely. Perhaps it was him showing the physical love outside of sex that you lacked thinking it would keep you from having another outburst as you did before. Him keeping his side of the compromise so you would keep yours.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes before you thought too hard about his actions. The more you thought about it, the more—and less—real it all became, but if he was offering more conventional couple things: cuddling, dates, attention, you would not pose another argument.

“So, no dog?” you whispered.

#yandere light yagami #yandere light yagami x reader #yandere death note #light yagami x reader #reader insert #yandere reader insert #yandere x you #yandere x reader #uh oh spaghettio #tw: yandere #tw yandere

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mirukunofuwa · 4 years

Text

Red String of Fate (part 1)

Ok so I was gonna have this be one mega fic, but online class things happened and I haven’t had the time to write any more of this >.> Part 2 will hopefully be up next week!

Based on a request from @shycoffeeparadise :3

Izuku Midoriya x Katsuki’s Sister!Reader WC: 2.4k Warnings: Something that appears to be unrequited love & rejection, Kacchan doing a lot of swearing, soulmate au

When you were a child, you had heard the story of the red string of fate; an invisible tether that connected you to your true beloved. It ensured that no matter what, the two of you would come back to each other.

You were 5 years old when you first heard it from one of the older kids that lived in your apartment complex. Upon hearing it, you had proudly declared that you shared a string with ‘Zuku-chan’, your neighbor that you tried to spend every waking hour with. This announcement was met with disdain from your older brother of two years, who delivered a smack to the back of your head.

“Why would you want to marry a loser like Deku?” Katsuki had grumbled, crossing his arms as he glared down at you.

“‘Cause I love ‘Zuku-chan!” You pouted, stomping your foot. “He’s gonna be my husband!”

“No way!”

Your vision was blurred as hot tears filled your eyes, and you pushed Katsuki with all the strength you could muster, before running off to sulk on the swings.

“(Y/N)-chan?” Came a familiar, comforting voice as Izuku climbed into the swing next to you. “What’s wrong?”

“K-Kacchan was b-being mean!” You managed to whimper out, wiping at your eyes and nose.

Izuku took your hand and squeezed it, giving you a bright smile. “It’s alright, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Kacchan didn’t mean to make you upset!”

You sniffled and nodded, getting off the swing to give Izuku a hug, which he returned. “Thank you, ‘Zuku-chan…”

Neither of you noticed Katsuki glaring at you from his spot with his friends, before storming off, telling his companions that he didn’t want to be around his “loser sister” anymore.

From then on, your love for Izuku was cemented, much to Katsuki’s chagrin. He’d have to pull you away from following Izuku around like a lost kitten, firmly reminding you that he was in charge of you, and he said you couldn’t follow “stupid Deku” around. You hated when the two would go off to middle school, and you had to stay at your elementary. You would walk with them for as long as possible, before Katsuki would flick your forehead and tell you to “go to your own damn school”. You would, but not before giving a hug to the both of them. You always made sure to hug Katsuki first, but Izuku would get a much tighter squeeze.

In middle school, you hung off the two older boys whenever you could, usually during lunch and after school. Katsuki would always shake you off, taking a different route to leave you and Izuku behind. While you would’ve loved to have your big brother there with you, you would always cherish the time alone that you had with Izuku.

You had been rehearsing your confession to Izuku for the whole year, finally working up the courage the evening after a school festival. The two of you were walking home as usual, but something about the sunset over the city skyline, and the way Izuku swayed and hummed some of the music you heard at the festival told you that now was the right time.

“‘Zuku-chan… Do you want to go to the park? It’s just a few blocks away.”

“Are you sure, (Y/N)-chan? It’s getting late…”

“I’m sure. I… I have something I want to tell you.”

“Oh… a-alright!” He gave you a grin, following you to the park.

The two of you found yourselves at the edge of a duck pond, watching the water ripple in the wind. You sat down on the grass, prompting Izuku to sit beside you.

“So…” Izuku started, fidgeting with his pencil. “What did you want to tell me?”

You tried to say something, wanting to tell him how you felt, but the words wouldn’t come. Before you could even think, you were surging forward and pressing a kiss to Izuku’s lips, before quickly pulling away.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a bright red face, and emerald eyes blown wide in surprise.

“I… I…” Izuku stuttered, then scrambled to stand up. “I need to go!”

Before you could say anything, Izuku was running out of the park in a panic, leaving you to stare after him.

It took all your strength not to cry on your way home. The ambient sounds of the city were uncomfortably loud without Izuku to talk to you; buses and trains drove by, people chattered idly, dogs barked, but the most deafening was the absence of your friend’s excited prattling.

When you got home, you didn’t say anything to your parents that were watching a movie on the couch, nor to Katsuki in his room. You knew if you opened your mouth it would come out as a sob.

Once your door was slammed shut and you had flopped face-first onto your bed, you finally let loose. Your entire body trembled with your sobs, and your pillow was quickly dampened by your tears. It didn’t last long, though, and you simmered down to pathetic sniffles in a matter of minutes.

Once your cries had quieted, there was a gentle knock at your door, and Katsuki’s muffled voice came through. “Hey, (Y/N). Can I come in?” When you didn’t respond, he opened the door and stood beside your bed with his arms crossed. “Mom told me to check on you.”

You finally lifted your face from your pillow, cheeks patchy red and eyes welling with tears once more.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

When you responded with silence, Katsuki gave an exasperated sigh before sitting down on the bed. “Fine, idiot. Don’t tell me.”

You paused for a moment, before finally mumbling out. “I… Izu…”

Katsuki seemed to perk up at the mention of his rival. “What did the bastard do?!”

“I… I w-wanted to tell him I l-liked him so I… I k-kissed him and he r-ran away…”

Katsuki’s fists clenched together while he tried to maintain his relative sense of calm. “Well I could’ve told you how bad of an idea that was, dumbass!”

“I d-didn’t know what to do!” You sobbed again, fat tears pooling in your eyes once more.

“What you should’ve done is not fall for fucking Deku in the first place.” He growled, unable to help the tiny popping sounds that came from his palms. His expression softened a little when he saw you trying to wipe away your tears with your sleeve. “...you want me to go beat the shit out of him for you?”

“N-no…”

“Damnit.” He huffed and flopped back onto the bed, staring at your ceiling. “I’m still gonna make sure he stays away from you. He doesn’t even deserve to see you if he’s gonna hurt you like that.”

“Thank you, Katsuki…”

“I have to do this, idiot. How am I gonna be the number one hero if I can’t protect my own sister?”

You tried to tune Izuku out throughout the rest of your middle and high school career, but it was near impossible when he seemed to constantly be by your brother’s side. What made it worse was that he was flaunting his quirk, a quirk he only ever revealed once he stopped being your friend.

Had he been lying to you to make you feel better about your own lack of a quirk? Part of you questioned why he would do that if he didn’t love you, but you suppressed that thought immediately. He just didn’t want you to feel alone, that’s the kind of person he is.

You still couldn’t avoid him when you graduated from UA’s general ed course, not when you wanted to be a reporter. Deku was all the public ever wanted to hear about, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give the people what they want.

You’d constantly find yourself at the scene of his latest escapade, praying that some other reporter would get to him first just to give you an excuse to talk to someone else. When you were unlucky enough, he’d give you a friendly smile, but he never talked about anything other than the task at hand.

At least he was professional about it.

Aside from having to see your childhood crush, you were living pretty well. You always had something to write about, being Ground Zero’s “favored reporter”, and you got exclusive access to many events that were for heroes and their guests only.

That was how you ended up at this exclusive party. The press weren’t technically allowed, so you weren’t able to take notes or pictures, but it was a good experience anyway. You didn’t know what you were expecting when Katsuki had texted you asking to be his guest, but you were pleased to find that it was a relatively run-of-the-mill formal gathering.

The mayor’s penthouse apartment was packed with pro heroes that you recognized from the field, some of them recognizing you in turn, making jokes about reporters not being allowed. You still hung around Katsuki and Eijirou, who was likely Katsuki’s preferred plus one, but he was going to be at the party anyway.

You knew Katsuki could’ve just come alone and met up with Eijirou, so you were thankful that he brought you along.

Mostly thankful.

You couldn’t help bumping into Izuku, because of course the friendly bastard was going to say hello to everyone he knew, especially Katsuki.

You tried to busy yourself with your champagne glass while the two exchanged niceties, but held your breath when Izuku turned to you.

“Hey, (Y/N)! How have you been?”

“I’m… good.” You gave Izuku a smile, cursing the butterflies that still invaded your stomach when you made eye contact with him.

“That’s great!” He grinned, and you tried to hold in a sigh of relief when someone else grabbed his attention. “Oh, um… good seeing you!” Izuku gave you one more signature grin before going off to say hello to whoever it was that had called his name.

You could still hear your own heartbeat loud in your ears, fixated on it only until you heard Eijirou’s voice.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

Your brother had his fist clenched in an effort to hide the mini pops sounding off in his palm. “Nothing, Eiji. Could you go get my glass refilled?”

“Oh… y-yeah.” Eijirou nodded and took Katsuki’s glass from him, going off to find a waiter.

Katsuki stared at you for a moment, before sighing. “If you wanna go home, I get it.”

You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You gave Katsuki a side hug, smiling at Eijirou when he got back with his and Katsuki’s glasses filled with wine.

“Everything alright?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You smiled and finished off your own glass, before heading off to get it refilled as well.

The line was fairly long, and you stood behind a sleepy-looking woman, one that you didn’t recognize, probably the guest of a hero.

It wasn’t long before the waiter had to run and get more drinks from the kitchen, bringing the line to a standstill.

“Um… excuse me?” The woman in front of you had turned around, looking a little excited.

“Hi?” You gave her a nervous smile, and she returned with a smile of her own.

“My name’s Naoko, I came with my boyfriend, Hainu.” She nodded towards one of the rookie heroes trying to network with some higher-ups. “Um… this might sound weird, but… have you heard of the red string of fate?”

You felt a pit in your stomach at the mention of the fairy tale, but you nodded. “Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“Well, I can see people’s red strings, and… it’s probably easier to just show you, yeah?” Naoko took your left hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, leaving a bright red lipstick stain. All of a sudden, what looked like a glowing thread wrapped around your pinky, extending across the room and finally ending in a crowd of people.

It was a few moments before your supposed soulmate was visible, the opposite end of the thread tied in a bow around his own left pinky.

The pit in your stomach grew, and you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“I-is everything alright? I thought this would be exciting for you.” You could barely hear Naoko’s voice over the blood rushing through your ears, but you nodded anyway.

“I just… I need to go home.” You quickly turned around, weaving your way through the crowd to find Katsuki. You set your glass down on the side table of the couch he and Eijirou were sitting on, before giving him a teary look. “I’ll see you later, Katsuki. Thanks for inviting me.”

“What happened?” Katsuki’s eyebrows knitted together as he moved to stand up, “Did that asshole say something–”

“No. I’m fine, I just… I need to be alone.” You leaned down and gave your brother a quick hug before swiftly leaving the party, taking the moment of peace in the elevator to gather your thoughts.

You were going to go home, take a nice bath, watch a show, try to forget about this. It would be hard considering the metaphysical string tied around your finger, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

Katsuki had been your ride over, so the trip home was one agonizing train ride. You looked out of place in your formal clothes, and with the streaks of mascara running down your face, but you tried to ignore the looks you garnered.

It wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing in your purse, a text from Eijirou.

-“Hey, everything alright?”

You stared at your phone for a moment before texting back.

-“Yeah, I’m fine.” -“It’s okay if you aren’t. I won’t tell Katsuki. Wouldn’t want him blowing up the party ;P”

You smiled at your phone, thinking for a few moments before responding.

-“Do you have Deku’s phone number?” -“Yeah! Want me to send it?” -“Yes please.”

A few moments later, he sent you the contact.

You typed out your message, letting it sit unsent in the app while you stared at the words. What if he didn’t show up? What if he didn’t actually want to see you, what if he was just pretending to tolerate you in order to save face?

You gathered up your courage and finally hit send, reading over the text and wishing you had said nothing.

-“Izuku, meet me at Watanabe Park by the pond. I have something I want to tell you. –(Y/N)”

#deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha x reader #bnha x you #soulmate au #it's got mentions of my ocs for like two seconds

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