#hope ur okay hits too close to home and i think it fits him as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years

Note

Ok but can u also do this but with ron + the twins, I love ur smuts !!!!!!!

pairing: reader x ron weasley x fred weasley x george weasley

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, foursome, double penetration, oral (female and male receiving), face fucking, fingering

word count: 4.2k

a/n: soooo this is the longest thing i’ve ever written on this account but if anyone deserves it its the damn weasleys. i tried to make this as non sweet home alabama as possible and that’s probably why it’s so long. anyways, enjoy this ungodly amount of smut while i decompress.

You had been spending a majority of your summer at The Burrow, where you boyfriend Ron lived. You spent day in and day out with him, practically on top of one another whenever you could be, but that didn’t stop you from spending time with his family. His mother was incredible, albeit a little scary at times, his father was charming, and Ginny was becoming a fast friend. But you couldn’t help the particular draw you felt towards the twins, Fred and George.

You couldn't deny they were attractive, the genes were strong in the Weasley family. And you often did a poor job at hiding your attraction.

You didn’t think any of them had noticed your subtle glances or blushes. Little did you know, all three of them had noticed over the few weeks you had been there. They were just waiting you out.

~~~

Tonight you were all cozied around the fire pit, drinking some firewhiskey, taking advantage of the fact that Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Ron’s oldest brother Bill and his wife, Fluer, for the weekend. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were certainly feeling good.

You were cuddled up to Ron’s side, his arm slung around your shoulders, a knitted blanket draped over your laps. You were so wrapped up in your boyfriend that you had barely noticed that Fred had taken the spot on your other side until his leg brushed against yours, making you still.

“Do you need another drink, sweetheart?” Fred asked when you finally looked his way, his face far too close to yours in the situation to be normal.

You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. “Um, yes, thank you,” you added bashfully.

Fred dashed a charming smile at you and placed a soft kiss to your cheek before dashing off to get you another glass of whiskey, your blush only intensifying when you felt his lips on your skin. You prayed no one could see it through the light of the fire.

Ron tugged you back into his side and dropped his lips to your ear. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop,” he said lowly, clearly not pleased by the situation.

“He kissed me,” you argued softly, your head turning to press a kiss against his neck. He pulled back and shot a look down at you, his brow raised. A look you couldn’t exactly argue with. You got caught and you knew it.

You stayed quiet, trying to keep your eyes anywhere except the two men that currently had your stomach in knots. But that effort was broken when Fred made his way back over to you, plopping down beside you. He passed you your new drink and you thanked him for it, sitting up straight to take a sip.

You were caught off guard when you were pulled into his body and away from Ron, Fred’s strong arm now wrapped around your shoulders.

“Have you been enjoying your summer here so far?” He asked quietly, making sure only you could hear him.

Your eyes flitted cautiously over the group around the fire, making sure no one was noticing the strange behavior. You paused when you met George’s eyes, his own trained on the interaction between you and Fred, but you tried your best to ignore it.

“Um, yes. You’ve all been quite lovely. I like it here,” you told him genuinely. You had been enjoying your summer despite tonights most recent turn of events.

“Mm, good,” Fred mused, shooting another smile down at you. You couldn’t help but notice the little mischievous glint in his eyes that he got every time he was thinking something that was likely to either end brilliantly or disastourly. “I saw we play a little game. Are you in?” He asked.

You swallowed nervously, knowing this could end very poorly. “And what is this game?” You questioned.

“Let’s see how jealous we can get Ron,” he whispered, the smile never leaving his face.

“I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you argued, knowing fully well Ron had already told you to stop… doing whatever you were doing.

“Oh, c’mon Y/N. Live a little. Anyhow, you already know how this is going to end,” he told you.

“And how will this end?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

He moved closer to you, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Your whole body was hot and the blush was creeping back onto your face and you knew he could see it.

“Judging by the noises I hear coming from his room almost every night, he’ll fuck you stupid. And I get to hear those pretty noises again,” he told you shamelessly, pulling you into him closer.

You shot a nervous glance at Ron, only to find that he was already looking at you over the rim of his own cup, fire in his eyes. He raised a brow at you and you could see the way the corners of his lips were tugging up into a smirk, practically daring you to continue on. As if he knew exactly what you and Fred were talking about.

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Fred added from behind you, making you whip your head around back to him.

“Of course he’d mind. You’re his brother,” you argued incredulously, still not believing this conversation was even truly happening.

“You think he doesn’t see the way you look at me and Georgie? You look at us like you want us to devour you,” he told you.

You snuck a glance at George only to find that he was still looking at you. You could feel Ron’s eyes still on the back of your head. You gulped nervously, your brain short circuiting for a half a second. Did they… did they plan this?

“I - I haven’t been -,” you went to argue, but Fred cut you off.

“Don’t play coy with me. Maybe if you beg him nicely like I hear you do so well, he might let us join you tonight,” Fred teased, causing your core to pulse and drip with arousal at the thought.

You could only stare back at him, his breath fanning your face as you took in his words. He knew he planted a seed in you that wouldn’t go away until it was satisfied. The smug look on his face only proved it. You didn’t get the chance to reply before you could hear Ron getting up from his place on the bench.

“Bunny, come with me,” he said innocently enough to the ears of everyone else in the group, but you could hear the edge in his voice.

You detangled yourself from Fred and rose up from your spot, taking Ron’s hand as he silently led you back into the house. Once you had passed through the threshold into the kitchen and away from the eyes of everyone else, he spun around to face you.

“And what was all that about?” He asked, stepping right into your space so you had no other choice but to look up at him.

“N-nothing. We were just having a chat,” you stuttered out, trying to not seem intimidated.

“Wasn’t what it looked like to me. Spill it,” he said roughly, continuing to back you up until your back hit the counter, leaving you nowhere to go when his hands were placed on either side of your body.

“Promise you won’t get mad,” you half heartedly requested.

“Just tell me.”

“He- he said, um, he said that we should try to make you jealous,” you told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was only a half truth at best.

“That’s not what has you blushing like a virgin though, is it? What did he say to you?” He pressed, the fire in his eyes growing larger by the second.

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you even opened your mouth, knowing this could only go one of two ways. He’d either blow up entirely, or you’d have a night you’d never forget. “He said that if I begged you you’d let him and George join us,” you said quickly, all in one breath.

You shut your eyes, waiting for his response. But when a chuckle fell from his lips your eyes shot back open in shock.

“Is that what you want, bunny? Do you want them to join us?” He asked, his eyes now more playful than they had been just seconds prior.

“Are you serious?” You asked after a moment, you head spinning that he was just offering this to you on a silver platter. You expected yelling, anger, the whole fit. You didn’t expect a cheeky smirk and twinkling eyes.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“They’re your brothers,” you argued. Why you were even arguing this, you weren’t sure. You wanted this and he knew it and they knew it. You just couldn’t understand why he was letting it happen.

“It’s not like I’ll be fucking them,” he said with a laugh. “So, tell me what you want.”

“If it’s okay with you…,” you started, trailing off. You looked up at him nervously, hoping your eyes conveyed enough of a plea that he would continue agreeing with you.

“So beg,” he said, his voice dropping low as he continued to stare down at you.

“I’ll be good, I promise. Just this once. I just - I - please,” you said, launching right into it but quickly running out of words as you watched the smirk grow on his face.

“Go to my room. Strip. I’ll be up in a minute,” he told you, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading back outside. You watched his figure walk away for a moment, letting your mind race until you booked it up the stairs not wanting to wait any longer for the night to truly begin.

~~~

You were waiting in your position on the bed for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes before you heard multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. You moved to cover your chest when you heard the doorknob turn, unsure if you should be exposed or not right away.

Ron came in first but left the door open just enough so your guests could hear. “Last chance, bun. Do you want this?” He asked, slowly coming over to rest his hands on the bed, leaning over slightly so his tall form was eye level with you.

You knew it wasn’t your last chance to say no, but it was your last chance before the twins waltzed in.

You took a shaky breath and nodded your head, saying “Yes,” loud enough so Fred and George could hear.

The door was opening once more, the twins walking through, both pairs of eyes immediately on you. When the door shut, you stared up at them, unsure what to do or say, but their matching smirk told you they already had plans.

Ron walked around the bed until he crawled on to it behind you, his legs bracketing your hips as you knelt between his spread thighs.

“Let them see you,” he coaxed gently, hands coming around you to grip your forearms.

He only put a light pressure on your skin, letting you move on your own as you exposed your chest to them. They took you in with hungry eyes but they didn’t move from where they both stood before you, waiting.

“All of you,” Ron spoke again, his hands trailing down to your thighs, gently prying them apart.

You leaned back and hid your face in his neck as he repositioned you, unable to look the two men in the eyes as your entire body got exposed to them. You knew you were a dripping mess over the situation and the embarrassment of it being so obvious made you squirm.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re more perfect than I imaged,” you heard George say, the bed dipping down infront of you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching him as he looked down at your glistening sex. His eyes were hungry when they met yours, desperate. Probably the exact mirror of your own.

“Can I touch you?” George asked, his fingers twitching against the sheets, waiting.

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for one of them to do anything right now.

George wasted no time in bringing his fingers directly to your cunt, trailing one long finger through your slit while his thumb trailed soft circles onto your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips when he pushed his finger in, immediately searching for you g-spot.

As if your noises were a cue for Fred, the bed dipped on your other side and without a word, he was kissing down your chest. Soon enough, he was attacking your nipples when George was working your from the inside out. Your back was arching and your hips were moving at their own volition, unable to stop yourself under their ministrations.

“Does that feel good?” George asked you softly, placing kisses on your shoulder.

When you only nodded, Ron grabbed your chin and forced you to look directly at George. “I won’t remind you again, bunny. Use yours words,” he said sweetly, but you knew there was danger laced in his words. You knew better than anyone else what he could do to you if he reminded you one more time.

“Yes. Feels so good. Please don’t stop,” you told George, already breathless from the three men surrounding you.

You felt Fred chuckle against your skin and you knew the smirk George was wearing was only mimicked by Ron’s behind you. They knew exactly what they were doing to you.

You couldn’t stop the whine that left you when George removed his hand, but your eyes lit up when you saw him go to kneel at the edge of the bed. He pulled up his to the edge, draped your legs over his shoulder, and started trailing kitten licks all along your slit until his tongue was swirling around your clit.

You held fell back against Ron’s shoulder, a moan falling from your lips as Fred moved to your other side to attack your opposite nipple.

“Having fun?” Ron asked, beaming down at you.

You nodded breathlessly, your eyes rolling back in your head with a flushed smile on your face. “Want you too,” you told him.

“Of course you do, my greedy girl,” Ron mused, his finger coming to tilt your lips back and locking your lips in a kiss.

Your body was overwhelmed with just their lips. You weren’t sure how you would handle it when their pants came off.

Your hips were grinding down onto George’s face without you sparing it a second thought and you kept pushing your chest into Fred’s lips, your entire body grinding back on Ron’s body.

“She tastes like fucking heaven,” George said, finally coming up for a breath. His entire chin was soaked in his own saliva and your juices and his eyes were blown with lust.

Ron made a noise of agreement that was swallowed up by your lips, but you were ripped away from your boyfriend by George’s grip on your neck. He pulled you into a kiss with him, tasting yourself on his tongue, as Fred trailed kisses down your body until he was getting a taste of you for himself.

Fred quickly brought you your orgasm, his tongue so deep inside of you that your toes were curling. Your hands had a monster grip on Ron’s thighs and every noise you made got swallowed by George, his lips hot on yours.

You finally relaxed your body against Ron’s, his chest being the perfect place to settle against, as your body calmed down.

“Think you can handle all three of us?” Fred asked cheekily, looking up at you from his place on the floor.

You gave a shaky nod, but in your head you were unsure how this would even work. You never thought you’t get this far to even have considered it.

That line of thought was abruptly cut off when Ron grabbed your hair and yanked back so you were looking up at him again. “What did I say about using your words?” He asked darkly.

“Yes, I want to. I can,” you got out breathlessly, still basking in the sting of your scalp.

“Good,” Ron said, now satiated with your words. “Get on your hands and knees for us, bunny.”

He gave you one last searing kiss before releasing you, letting you adjust your own shaky limbs on the bed until you were in the position he instructed you to be in. As you did that, the boys began stripping themselves of their clothes, Fred and George both strategically in your line of sight depending on which way you turned your head.

You watched as they both ripped their shirts over their heads, a sight you were accustomed to thanks to many sweaty afternoons in the yard playing Quidditch. But you didn’t know where to look as they peeled down their jeans and briefs, relieving both of their impressive lengths. They were both around the same length, but Ron was thicker than both of them. No matter what, you knew you’d be sore in the morning.

“This is how it’s gonna work, bunny,” Ron said, finally rounding the bed so he could see you. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt,” he told you, adding emphasis of his possession when he bent over and easily hooked two fingers inside of you, pressing directly on your g-spot. You jumped at the abrupt action, but you never broke your eye contact with him.

“Fred’s going to fuck that tight ass,” he continued, and you watched as Fred rounded the bed until he was behind you.

“And George is gonna fuck that cute face,” Ron finished, George coming up on the other side of you to grip your face to force you to look at him.

“Does that sound good, sweetheart?” George asked, looking down at you fondly.

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you said, your hips beginning to move against nothing now that Ron had removed his fingers, searching for any ounce of friction you can get.

They moved in almost perfect sync. Ron maneuvered his way underneath you swiftly, George pulled your head off to the side so your mouth was lined up with the tip of his cock, and you could feel Fred’s lube covered fingers breach the entrance of your tightest hole all at once. You were overwhelmed in the best way, unsure what to do with yourself but totally just along for whatever ride they were about to bring you on.

When Ron fucked up into you roughly, George immediately pushed your head down to feel the full effects of your moan of his cock, causing a shiver to run through his body. They were practically fucking your mouth and core in tandem, one pulling out while the other brutally thrust in.

You felt as if you were splitting open for them already, but when Fred’s cock finally lined up with your entrance and began pushing in, you practically saw stars.

George let you pull away from him for a moment so you could breath through the new pressure inside of you, your head now buried in Ron’s neck as you panted and moaned. Ron had slowed down his thrusts to match with Fred, balancing you on the precipice of pain and pleasure.

“You’re doing so fucking good for us, Y/N. Just give it a minute and it’ll feel so good. You’re gonna be so pretty when you cum for us,” Ron mused quietly in your ear, knowing that you’d latch on to his voice to get you through the intensity.

Finally, your hips starting moving against theirs, a silent signal you were ready for them to fuck you, all three of them truly went wild with you body.

George dragged your face back over to him, letting you do your own thing but keeping a steady hand in your hair in case you tried to pull away. Ron and Fred were fucking into you in perfect sync, pulling out and fucking into you at the same time.

It was so intense you were shaking, only being held up by three strong pairs of hands at this point. But you couldn’t hide how good it was making you feel. Even as deep as George’s cock was down your throat, it was barely muffling the screams of pleasure you were giving them. You just hoped someone remembered to cast a silencing charm.

You could hear them talking around you, a mix of praises directed at you and words shared between themselves. “Fuck, you feel so good” and “Just like that” mixed with “She feels like fucking heaven” and “Her mouth is a dream”. You could barely hear them over the blood pumping through you, but you knew you’d remember it later with a blush and a smile.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Swallow it all for me,” George told you, bruising your hair out of your sweaty face. You felt the unmistakable twitch of his cock just before he spilled his cum inside of your mouth and fucked it down your throat, giving you no choice but to follow his request. He came with one of the prettiest noises you had ever heard, and you knew you’d want to hear it again someday if you were lucky enough.

You pulled away from George panting, finally able to have a minute to catch your breath as Fred and Ron continued to pound furiously into you, your body jolting with every deliberate thrust.

“Ron, please I’m so close,” you begged, for what you weren’t entirely sure, but you knew he’d know what to do. All you could focus on was how close you were, how tightly you were gripping both of your cocks, and trying your best to balance on shaky arms so you didn’t collapse.

Without missing a beat, Ron turned his head to George. “Touch her clit,” he told him, finally sounding breathless from all the work he was putting in.

Fred’s arms came around you to pull you up until your back was against his chest, giving George full access to your most sensitive spot.

“Cum for us. Show us how much you loved this and cum for us,” Fred said low in your ear.

Your eyes never left Ron’s as all three of them worked you closer and closer to the edge. As much as the twins were turning you on, this orgasm was for you boyfriend. Everyone you had was. He was the one that let this happen. Let them take you like this. And he was the one currently fucking your g-spot with every thrust it made your head spin.

“Cum for me” was all Ron had to say, seeing and feeling just how close you were, for you to explode.

Your vision went white and your whole body shook, the only thing keeping you grounded was Fred’s warm chest pressed against you. You knew the scream you were hearing was your own, but you couldn’t keep it quiet no matter how hard you tried. You pulsed around their cocks, milking them of their own orgasms as you were going through yours. You felt their cum fill you completely, another moan leaving your mouth at how erotic it felt.

When you finally felt as though you had come back down to real life, you were settled against Ron’s chest, his cock still in you, while the twins were busying themselves with getting dressed. They were talking quietly while Ron ran his hand up and down along your back, just waiting until you were finally back in the present.

George was the first one to notice your eyes had opened again when he finally got his pants back on. He walked over to the bed and knelt down so he was almost eye level with you.

“That was wonderful, darling. You were perfect,” he told you, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before righting himself only for Fred to take his place.

“What he said,” Fred told you with a smirk and mimicking his twin's kiss to your forehead. “We’ll see you two lovebirds in the morning,” he added with a wink.

They both made their way out of the room, the door clicking behind them, leaving you and Ron in a blissed out silence.

“Did you have fun?” He finally asked, tilting his neck so he was looking down at you.

“I did. Thank you,” you said with a soft smile.

“My girl always gets what she wants. You just have to ask, bunny,” He said, placing a kiss on your nose.

When you moved your lips up to move against his, he stopped you with a chuckle. “No offense but my brother did just cum in your mouth. So let’s go get you cleaned up so I can kiss you properly, yeah?” He asked, wrapping a blanket around you so he could get you down the hallway and into the bathroom.

“I thought you weren’t going to be weird about it,” you grumbled under your breath as he adjusted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style.

“That’s different and you know it,” he said defensively as he made his way for the door, making you giggle.

#harry potter #ron weasley #ron weasley smut #ron wealsey imagine #ron wealsey headcannon #ron weasley drabble #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley blurb #george weasley #george weasley smut #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey drabble

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difx-writes · 3 years

Text

Wildest Dreams - In the Death of the Night

Masterlist

After turning 10 and losing her soulmate, Marinette would imagine how Damian Wayne would be.

Would he be tall or short? Did he have blond hair or brown or did he dyed it? Would he be shy or have a bold personality? Perhaps he was an artistic soul, a poet, a writer? Or would he be a baker like her parents? Why did his last name change?

The wonders and questions took over her mind for days with no end.

On good days, she imagined how he would interact with her friends, how her parents would take him in as their own son, how he would fit into her life.

She liked to talk to him, pretending there, alive, with her. She asked his opinion on what to wear, how she should do her hair, what colors with go well with the design. He was her voice of reason. Talking to "Damian" brought a smile to her face, even when she knew she was deluding herself.

On bad days, she pretended he was right there with her, comforting her, encouraging her, whispering that everything would be alright... Sometimes it worked and she felt better the next days but most times she felt bitter, she felt robbed of a future where he was in her life.

The realization that the person she was supposed to share her soul with was no longer alive, that his death was painful, gruesome, and... lonely... It always ended with her taking a few days to prevent a breakdown...

When she turned 13, Hawkmoth appeared and Marinette became Ladybug, the hero of Paris.

Soon after, Marinette stopped talking with "Damian", she couldn't afford to wonder about him anymore. She couldn't afford the bliss of her own delusions. She couldn't afford to let herself grief and fall pray to Hawkmoth's manipulation.

As she couldn't fail Paris and its citizens, Damian Wayne mostly disappeared from her life.

But there were days when her “friends” demanded a lot from her, akumas were too violent and draining and everything was just too much, those the godawful days.

On godawful days she wished Damian was there to take her away to a place she could feel she belonged. Away from everything to a place she could call a home.

_______

Most nights Damian recalls a voice talking to him during the time he was dead.

His soulmate, he supposed, talked to him regularly, she started her day asking his opinion on her outfit for the day, when at home she would tell him how her day went, what she did with her friends, what she learned in class, etc...

At first, Damian was pretty much annoyed that he couldn't "rest in peace" with all the noise pollution but after a few weeks, he slowly started to tolerate her talking to him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't talk to her nor see her very clearly so it was a pleasant surprise when Marinette would ask his opinion to make a decision, she always picked what he chooses.

Perhaps it was their bond that allowed her to know what he was thinking without actually hearing each other's thoughts. Or maybe they were more in sync with one another. Most likely it was pure luck on her part. (Him being dead is enough proof of how bad his luck was.)

In the months he was dead, Damian learned a grand lot Marinette. He liked how she made him feel he wasn't alone, like how her voice calmed him when he remembered the family he left behind in his death. Marinette was his only lighthouse in the vast void of the afterlife

_______

Impotent, despair, and hopeless.

That's how Damian felt every time Marinette had to relive his death. He hated it so much. She didn't deserve that and it broke his heart every damn time.

Why did he have to die? Why did it have to be in such a painful way? Why did she have to feel it on repeat over and over and over again? Was it a twisted way the universe tried to make them reunited? If they can't find each other in life, then they can be together in death? That isn't right!

But it always hurts more when she wakes up and talks to him. Wondering if he was happy and in peace, in wherever place he ended up.

He was there but she didn't know.

He felt sick.

After being revived, Damian felt an immense sense of loss. Sure, he was kinda happy to reunite with his family and grateful for being alive again, but he missed her.

It was difficult to readjust to being alive again, it was crystal clear that Damian Wayne wasn't okay. What hurts him the most was how her name turned into a scar on his wrist.

During the day paranoia settled in making him always on high alert, lashing out when it got too much for him.

In the night, he couldn't sleep properly as a feeling of unease latched onto his every nerve and when he did sleep, nightmares plagued him.

Damian tried to calm down in various ways, but ultimately it was Marinette's voice that soothed him and lulled him to sleep.

It quickly became a habit to replay their one-sided conversations as he tries to fall asleep.

He went over what Marinette Dupain-Cheng spoke to him time and time again as to engrave her voice in his mind. Unfortunately, her voice was fading away, every time he recalled it, he hear his own voice.

At least some memories remained, which was relieving for Damian, even when important ones like what language she spoke or the name of her school were completely wiped out.

He never told his family his experience while he was dead, he guesses Jason was the most likely to know about it but he never brought it up to anyone, so Damian did the same.

Now he was lying in bed, remembering about the time Marinette tried embroidery for the first time.

She started by searching up what she wanted it to be and after much talking, she chose a Robin, Damian smile at the eagerness he felt for her to chose it. It was a fun day, with her making comments here and there about the work, he wishes he could see it.

A knock woke him up of his thoughts, Alfred emerging from the door.

"Master Damian, I'm here to inform you a guest will be joining us for tomorrow's dinner."

"Whose guest?" He didn't really feel like dealing with new people.

"It's Master Jason's guest."

Damian groans, perhaps he could go visit Kent.

"It would be in your best interest to participate, Master Damian." Alfred gave him a look.

He sighed, definitely can't miss tomorrow or he'll have to face Pennyworth.

So, I've written another chapter while listening to a sad song on repeat :') I know it doesn’t really connect to the last chapter but I wasn’t feeling okay and didn’t know how to continue from where I left off.

I hope y’all enjoyed this and have a nice day!

P.S.: The taglist is temporarily closed as some tags aren't working. Again, I'm very sorry if I missed anyone. If you no longer want to be tagged please hit me up.

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#daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #maribat #ml x dc #soulmate au #angst #in the death of the night

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joyaphoria · 3 years

Text

with the flowers (8)

part eight: the chaos within

pairing: suna x f!reader

summary: if a teacher had been the one to catch suna dangling on the edge of inarizaki’s roof, he definitely would’ve been in trouble. except it wasn’t a teacher that caught him, it was you—the school whore. yea, he’s starting to wish it was a teacher.

word count: 1.2k

this is a retell of chapter six, but in y/n’s perspective the strikethroughs are supposed to be there re-read part six before reading this

directory | previous | next

one, two, three.

three hours seconds, he’s been staring at your house.

he’s not actually gonna come inside, is he? no, he thinks you house is pathetic.

he’s walking up the driveway; no now he’s on your path he’s on your path.

‘why are you here?’ “you’re here!” you stare smile at him, your eyes piercing into running along to the girl he brought with him.

more people, there’s more. run, get away. leave, go away.

“oh, and you brought—wait, is that your sister?”

it’s a stupid question. of course she’s his sister. now he thinks you’re stupid. you’re stupid you’re stupid, you’re stupid.

“my parents aren’t home right now, they thought i should bring her.” he scoffs replies.

he’s staring he’s glaring parents parents parents.

you stare at her pat her head, before closing the door moving aside to let them in.

‘you coming was already too much.’ “don’t even worry about it don’t even worry about it,” you smile.

repeating sentences is pathetic weird. shut your mouth don’t do it.

send them away, show them you aren’t one to be messed with.

“i have a little sister you can play with!” you offer her your hand, and she hesitantly takes it. “don’t touch me.”

go away, go away please. leave us alone.

“hanakooo!” don’t come downstairs, stay upstairs please. strangers, they’re strangers you shouldn’t have brought here stay upstairs don’t come down stay upstairs don’t come down-

“this is aiko and suna.”

go back upstairs.

“look after aiko for me, okay?”

don’t get to close to this girl, hana. you don’t know her.

“how old is your sister?” suna asks, following you to the kitchen.

why does it matter to him?

“none of your business” “fourteen.”

it’s quiet it’s too quiet he’s gonna think you’re overthinking the question and that you’re being rude, you have to-

ask him back.

“same as yours?”

he nods.

hanako doesn’t do well with girls her age you shouldn’t have let that girl into your house especially not secluded in a room with your sister what if that girl hurts her what if she’s rude and hurts hanako’s feelings—

you make your way up the stairs and he follows you.

“don’t follow me.”.

laugh or he’ll think that you hate him.

you laugh again, so hard that you think you might throw up.

it’s quiet again, and you want it to stay that way. you want him to leave and allow you to bask in the silence peacefully, on your own.

“why do you do it?” suna asks out of the blue, his back on your bed and his feet on the carpet, launching one of your stuffed toys into the air and catching it.

ignore him ignore him ignore him ignore him- “if you’re gonna ask a random question like that, i’m gonna need a little context, pretty boy.” you tease, jumping onto your bed and causing him to nearly fall off.

smile, smile, don’t let him pity you.

“’donate pussy for money’” he clarifies—and you want to drop dead—mocking your past statement. “why do you do it?”

‘why do you ask?’ “why do you ask?”

you weren’t supposed to say that out loud you were supposed to answer with a straight answer or else he’ll pity you he’ll think that you’re coming up with something to say because you’re pathetic and useless and—

“well i mean, you live in a perfectly stable house, your parents—” what will he say if i tell him that it’s only my mother will he pity me will he think i’m stupid will he-

“—both have jobs, you have food, i don’t get why.”

of course he doesn’t get it, no one ever gets it.

tell him to mind his own business because you’re upset laugh because you don’t want him to think you’re upset.

he watches as you burst into yet another fit of laughter, holding onto your stomach as if you were in pain because you are, it hurts, everything hurts.

“i had dont have a dad.” you nudge him. “my dad committed suicide when he was seventeen—” too soon too soon too soon, change it now.

“—you know, jumped off of inarizaki’s roof.” better, much better better, much better.

suna frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. “that isn’t funny.”

that was insensitive that hit too close to home don’t let up so easily—don’t be a pushover you pathetic whore.

“oh come on, you know it is.” you look away smirk. “i wasn’t joking though, he really did commit. he wasn’t quirky enough to jump off a roof he wasn’t quirky enough to jump off a roof, but yea, he committed.”

you almost said it twice you almost said it twice.

he’s staring at you. did you say it twice? he’s gathering his thoughts.

he’s judging you he’s processing—this is a lot to process no it isn’t.

he’s gonna keep staring if you don’t do something let him.

“you look ugly when ur serious.” you admit, squishing his cheeks together. “ease up a lil.”

that was rude, take it back. that was sily; in a weird good way.

“straightforward much?” he licks the hand closest to his mouth, and you scream shriek, tearing yanking your hands away.

“i’m just saying!” you frown giggle, wiping your hand on his shirt. “it was way before i was born anyways.”

right, you forgot to add that. now he thinks you’re a traumatized freak.

“wait, but if he committed before you were born, then hanako—”

“has a different father, pervert, male, worthless-piece-of-shit, guy, person, asshole, dad, dad, dad, but he took off a long time ago.”

and he better not come back he better not come back.

he’s not satisfied with the answer he’s not satisfied.

“i do this for her, you know?” you say, once you’ve both ended up laying side by side on your bed.

for hanako, say you do it for hanako

“for hanako. i wanna send her to a college in the us.”

it’s half true it’s the truth.

“does your mom know? like about any of it?” no she doesn’t, she wouldn’t care she’d be really upset.

“why hooking though? aren’t there better and safer options?”

because you’re used to it.

“you mean like working as a cashier?”

too many people it’s too many people they look at you and they know they know you’re filthy you’re disgusting it’s

too many people.

“yeah.”

how to justify how to justify how to-

“you’re probably right.” you shrug. “i guess i just like the attention,”

liar.

liar

“i like that people like my body, you know?”

kill yourself.

shut up

shut up.

“it’s one of my worst best traits.”

its hell, i want to get away i want to get away.

die die die die

die.

notes:

— i hope this gives a little insight into how much is going on in y/n’s head

— it’s just utter chaos and jumbled words and thoughts and things that don’t make sense and things she wants to/can’t/doesn’t know how to say; so if this was confusing or hard to understand, it’s supposed to be like that

— again, if you didn’t re-read chapter six, i recommend you do; the chapters are the same but the different perspectives change everything.

— no one would be able to last a day in her head, let alone stay sane.

taglist: @hotaruaizawa @its-the-aerieljeane @yourlocalbabybird @bakudummy @sunahyejin @satorinnie @lilith412426 @zukoslosthishonor @rintarovibes @underiwa @m01k @rinsangel @iicherrycore @kamalymaly @lmaosuna @whorefornoodles @anngelllla @ohrintarou @call-me-lulu @imeowforu @tsuksdinonugget @namyari @bakugouswh0r3 @theblueslytherin

#—joylovesyou #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu drabbles #suna rintarou #suna #suna x reader #suna smau #suna angst #suna comfort

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

fic request because i am d e s p e r a t e : tarlos carlos whump with supportive gabriel reyes ??? if you’re down to write him that is. i love ur work n ur whump n i think u would write a p good gabe. 🥰

holly’s august extravaganza day 1: against all odds (we're still here)

i'm always down to write gabriel! thanks for the prompt trick, i hope you like it!

ao3 | 2k | car accidents, whump, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

“I told you we should have brought the car.”

Carlos scowls over at TK, shifting one of the many bags he’s carrying higher on his arm. It cuts painfully into his skin, his good mood from earlier long since soured. The knowledge that TK is, of course, right isn’t exactly helping matters.

“In my defence,” he starts, for probably the fifth or sixth time, “when we texted your dad to see if he wanted us to pick up anything from the store, I wasn’t expecting a full list.”

“We could have told him no.”

“TK, he’s your dad and we are literally crashing his home right now. I’m not gonna tell him no.”

TK opens his mouth, presumably to retort with a comment about how his dad loves Carlos and loves having them around. Both of which are things Carlos knows perfectly well, thanks, but he’s still not interested in testing it by refusing to get Owen’s kale chips or that specific brand of shampoo which took half an hour—and two stores—to track down.

Whatever TK was about to say is abandoned when one of his own bags slips out of his grasp and falls to the ground with a depressing thud. It bursts open—because why wouldn’t it—and spills their purchases across the sidewalk. The only solace is that nothing breaks, but that’s where the good news begins and ends; Carlos’s eyes track a can as it rolls down the street and into the gutter, landing in a puddle of dirty water. TK looks forlornly between the dropped bag and those still balanced on his arms, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and crouches awkwardly, easing the other bags down as carefully as he can manage.

“Call an Uber,” he grumbles. “We are not walking home like this.”

On that point, they’re in agreement. Carlos spares himself a moment of idle amusement at TK’s predicament before beginning the arduous task of extracting his phone from his pocket without dropping any of his own shopping.

He’ll hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

Oh my god!

Someone call 911!

Are they even alive?

Just hold on, son, you’re going to be just fine.

Beeping.

Carlos frowns, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open. It takes a minute to register his surroundings for what they are—a hospital room—and a further minute to notice the presence at his side. It’s his father, looking exhausted, turning his cowboy hat in his hands as he stares at the floor.

“Dad?” he croaks, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “What happened?”

His father’s head jerks up, his eyes going wide as he sees Carlos awake. “Mijo. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Dad, why am I here? What happened?”

He sighs, reaching out to pat Carlos’s arm. “There was an accident,” he explains. “A drunk driver lost control of his car and mounted the curb right where you boys were standing. He was speeding, so he hit you pretty hard. Your foot was crushed under a wheel, you have a fractured wrist, and you bumped your head when you fell so you probably have a concussion. The doctors say you should heal just fine, though, gracias a Dios.”

Carlos lifts his head to look down at his body, only just registering the casts on his arm and foot. There’s a dull ache radiating through his entire body and his head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, but he’s alive and he’ll heal. He should be happy about that, but the only thing occupying his mind is his dad’s silence on TK.

“What about TK?” he asks, part of him dreading the answer. “I remember him pushing me; is he okay?”

“He’s…” His dad hesitates, sending a cold slither of fear down Carlos’s spine. “Alive.”

Carlos stares, the beginnings of panic stealing his breath. “What does that mean?”

His father blows out a long breath. “It means you were right,” he says, meeting Carlos’s eyes. “He did push you, so he took the brunt of the hit. He suffered a serious open pelvic fracture and broken ribs, which punctured his lung. Last I heard, they managed to fix him up and they’re not expecting any further complications, but we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up?”

“Not yet. He will, you’ll see.”

“I want to see him.”

And Carlos knows what the answer will be to that—a resounding no. He also knows that he won’t be able to argue; his father is incredibly stubborn, and when he digs his heels in, there’s no moving him. But he needs to at least try—he’s not going to stop worrying about TK until he sees him, and probably not for a long time after that.

His dad sighs and fixes him with a firm look. “Carlitos, you and I both know that’s out of the question,” he says. “You’ve only just woken up, you need to give yourself time to heal before exerting your body even more. Besides, he’s in good hands and Owen is with him, so we’ll know as soon as there’s any change.”

“Joder, Papá, I know all that,” Carlos cries, frustrated, barely able to refrain from throwing his head back on the pillow. “I just hate that he’s here, hurt, and I can’t even see him.”

“Lo sé,” His dad smiles gently, something that’s probably supposed to be comforting, but really only gets on Carlos’s nerves. “Escúchame, hijo. Descansa. Cúrate. Then you can focus on TK.”

It’s easier said than done and his father knows it, but Carlos has no choice. The conversation is effectively put to an end by his dad reaching over and pressing the call button next to the bed. A nurse comes in and quickly sets about checking his vitals and asking enough questions to make Carlos’s head spin. His probable concussion becomes definite, but otherwise he’s in good shape, all things considered.

He can’t help but wish he weren’t.

Two days later, Carlos is deemed fit to be discharged, providing he has someone to help him and providing he agrees to rest and not do anything even close to strenuous. TK is also awake now but, according to Owen, he’ll be kept in the hospital for at least another week. The break to his pelvis was bad, so he’ll need a wheelchair for a while even after discharge, and his refusal to take strong painkillers means his recovery is going to be long and painful.

Carlos is itching to see him. It’s been torture cooped up in his room without knowing how TK was doing—there’s only so much relief messages passed through their fathers can bring. It had only been his father’s stern and steady presence that had kept him in that bed when he felt like he was losing his mind with worry.

But now, finally, he’s being wheeled into TK’s room and helped onto the chair next to the bed. Owen stands off to the side, watching the two of them with a mixture of affection and sadness in his gaze, and his dad hovers behind him, but Carlos only has eyes for TK.

He looks incredibly tired, but he attempts a smile when he rolls his head to look at Carlos, extending his hand out across the distance between them.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos says softly, taking TK’s hand in his good one. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Not sure if I’ve been worse. I think this might just beat getting shot to that title.”

“That’s not funny.”

TK just hums, his eyes drifting closed for a second. “Maybe not.”

“Why did you push me?”

TK’s eyes fly open at the question, confusion overtaking his expression as he stares at Carlos. He moves as if to sit upright before groaning in pain, his face screwing up. Carlos reaches out for him, but he’s beaten to it by his father, who places a reassuring hand on TK’s shoulder.

“Take it easy, son,” he says gently. “Don’t move too much.”

“I hate this,” TK mutters, his body relaxing bit by bit. His gaze is still clouded when he looks back over at Carlos, but he manages a soft smile all the same. “I pushed you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. The car would have hit me either way; I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get you out of the way in time.”

Carlos blinks at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sorry?” he asks, disbelief colouring his tone. “Ty, you’re in the hospital, seriously injured, because you chose to save me instead of yourself. Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

Carlos does; of course he does, but it’s not enough to assuage the guilt still bubbling in his stomach at the sight of TK in the bed.

TK sighs, squeezing his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” he points out. “We both know you would have, so don’t you dare ask me to apologise for my choices.”

“I know. I won’t.” Carlos closes his eyes, deflating a little. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“And I hate seeing you hurt, so maybe you can do us both a favour and go home. I’ll be fine.”

Carlos must need his hearing tested, because there’s no way TK just said that. There’s no way his boyfriend told him to leave right after calling him out for hypocrisy. Except apparently he did, because he’s trying to disentangle their hands, and Carlos is not having that.

He grips onto TK even tighter and glares at him. “TK, if you think I’m leaving you here—”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts quietly. “I get it. But, babe, you need to rest and heal, and you can’t do either of those things sitting here.”

“Watch me.”

“No.” TK shifts his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Mr Reyes, can you make sure he rests?”

His dad laughs, leaning over to pat TK’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m sure once his mother sees him, she won’t let him out of her sight for a week anyway.”

TK grins. “Good to know.” He yawns and resettles himself slightly in the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “Carlos, if you’re still here when I next open my eyes, I’m not kissing you for a month.”

“You shouldn’t make threats you know you can’t follow through with.”

“Don’t make me make it two.”

Despite himself, Carlos laughs. He leans over and presses a lingering kiss to TK’s temple, then stands as well as he’s able, leaning on his dad for support. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

TK already sounds half-asleep when he mumbles, “Love you too,” back, and Carlos can’t even be embarrassed by how ridiculously smitten he must look, even though he’s in front of both their fathers.

He allows his dad to move him back to the wheelchair and says a quick goodbye to Owen, keeping his eyes on TK for as long as he can. Just as they reach the door, he catches TK’s eyes opening to slivers, obviously checking to see if Carlos is actually leaving. Carlos shakes his head at him, causing TK to flush at the knowledge he’s been caught. His eyes slam shut again, his tongue poking out childishly, and Carlos laughs, a lightness settling in his heart even as TK’s room disappears from view.

It’s going to be a long few months for the both of them, but they have family behind them to help them get through it.

And they have each other. Which, given everything, Carlos thinks is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

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mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,�� you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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lloydskywalkers · 3 years

Note

Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

#answered #ninjago #tlnm #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #slight blood tw #i just. have a lot of feelings about friends #and a lot of thoughts about how the movie!ninja put each other on pedestals #not in an inherently bad way but #i think they all think so much of each other #they forget they're human #and that leads to fallout #anyways! movie bros T-T #my fic #masterofswag213

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anotherhellchild · 4 years

Note

📂 i love your headcanons!

Aaahhhh thank you so much!!

Alright so, in honour of ur username…. Imma spout a Dadzawa + Bakuson + cat headcanon

(Quick shout out to @arschemy first tho! This was originally her idea and she really helped me <3)

The sun’s going down and Katsuki is on his way back to the dorms from his run.

It’s cold out, not cold enough for a jacket but definitely cold enough for a long sleeved shirt. The sky is getting darker and Katsuki’s heavy breaths become visible after every short exhale. The boy’s maybe got another three or four kilometers left before he’s back at UA’s gates, he’ll probably be there in about ten minutes.

A small, dark gray dot appears on the light gray concrete about two meters away from Katsuki’s feet. Then another falls a little away from there. Soon, more specs materialize and before Katsuki knows it, rain starts pouring down all around him. The street is empty. His hair dampens and falls down his forehead, wet locks of blond hair cover the top of his eyes. Raindrops slide down his neck and partially soaked socks make every step uncomfortable.

He should probably pick up the pace.

There’s a loud shriek. Or more accurately, there’s a loud shriek-like sound.

The noise comes from the alleyway to Katsuki’s right and the teen halts his movement right away.

Taking a couple steps back, Katsuki peeks past the corner of the wall. He’s just in time to see a cardboard box flip over and fall to the ground. After a moment of nothing, the thing knocks itself about three centimeters to the left.

Katsuki’s pretty sure unanimous objects aren’t supposed to be able to do that.

He should probably investigate this.

Making sure to keep his footsteps light, Katsuki carefully steps closer to the box. He needs to be cautious, you never know who or what could pop out from under a box in a sketchy alleyway.

mrrreowwww!

Oh. It’s just a fucking cat.

Great.

Somewhere, deep in the teen’s heart, Katsuki’s honestly a little relieved. Everywhere else though, Katsuki feels really stupid.

Not everything is out to get you, you fucking idiot.

Maybe he’s starting to turn a little paranoid.

The side of the box lifts up slightly, just enough for a little black paw to stick out from underneath.

Katsuki stares.

A black nose nudges it’s way underneath the box too, it fits perfectly in the gap created by the small paw. Whiskers and pointy teeth poke out from under cardboard.

Soundlessly, Katsuki crouches down.

The cat's head nudges and squirms it’s way out from underneath the box, once the small, drenched face completely finds its way out of its cardboard prison, it freezes.

Katsuki doesn’t move.

Big, red eyes stare into his.

Neither of them blink.

Rain still falls around them. Fat drops of water crash to the ground and two creatures get soaked in a stare off.

The cat gives first, it carefully tilts its head before cautiously continuing the process of getting out from under the box. It’s eyes stay locked on Katsuki.

Katsuki blinks then, the movement is slow and he doesn’t dare move any other muscle.

The cat blinks back. The thing’s found its way out from the box and it takes a cautious step towards the blond. Its black, spikey fur is a little tangled and really wet. Its ears are back and flat against its head. The thing looks underfed, cold and ready to pounce.

Katsuki offers his hand.

The distance between the two is closed slowly. After a couple sniffles, the cat comes even closer, maybe it senses Katsuki’s warmth. Maybe it craves that warmth.

Fuck.

Katsuki didn’t think he’d be relating to a fucking alleycat when he left for his run an hour ago, yet here he is.

The boy carefully gives the shivering creature a pat on its head. The thing immediately demands for more.

No.

Fuck.

He can’t get attached to the fucking cat. He’s not even a cat person for fucks sake.

mew

A little black paw comes up to tap Katusuki’s hand after it paused in its movement. Big red eyes seem to glow in the dark.

Tch.

When the hell did he become so weak?

---

Katsuki prays to any deity that nobody hears him enter the dorms. He really really really does not need anybody talking to him right now.

The cat squirms around in Katsuki’s shirt. The thing’s still shivering a little bit, but it’s already much better than twenty minutes ago. It serves as a nice lil’ heater on Katsuki’s chest too.

After looking around to make sure the coast is clear, Katsuki makes a bee-line for the stairs. By some miracle, he actually manages to make it to his room undetected.

Once he’s got the cat inside, Katsuki does his best to help the little guy out.

First, he takes the thing to the showers. Luckily for them, it’s too early in the evening for anybody else to be around in the bathroom so they get all the space they need to clean/ warm up.

It doesn’t take long for Katsuki to discover the hardest part of the whole ‘cleaning process’. Even though the damn thing is already soaking wet, it absolutely refuses to touch the warm, clean water Katsuki prepared for it. Lets just say that giving the cat a much needed bath has earned the boy quite a couple scratches.

The cat’s an annoying lil’ beast.

After both of them are all cleaned up though, it’s easy for Katsuki to brush the tangles out of the cat’s fur. The animal doesn’t put up any fuss and it actually seems to lean into the touch.

Katsuki finds some dinner for the both of them after all that is said and done. The cat desperately needs some food and water and although there isn’t any cat food in the dorms, they both make due with some random things Katsuki finds in the kitchen.

It’s too late to go out to a pet store right now, that’s just going to have to be done tomorrow.

The rest of the night, Katsuki and the cat just chill together. Katsuki honestly never knew watching a cat chase a laser could be so entertaining.

This kind of sucks, he thinks a couple hours after he found this monstrosity of a creature stuck under a fucking cardboard box in some random alleyway.

He looks down to where the bundle of black fur is curled up on his chest, the damn thing is purring and maybe maybe it's definitely already earned a special spot in Katsuki's heart.

I can’t keep you.

Katsuki knows he can’t. It would be unfair to the cat and it would be too selfish of him.

It’s not like he wants it this way, but he knows- he knows the cat deserves better.

So, there’re really only two options:

1) Take the cat to a shelter. It’d probably find a good home to live in. There’s no guarantee that would be the case though.

2) … Aizawa’s birthday is coming up. Katsuki hasn’t thought about what he wants to give his sensei yet but, everyone knows the man has a soft spot for strays.

Yeah, Katsuki’s already made up his mind.

---

It’s been a suspiciously normal birthday so far. Shota’s a little over 15 hours into the day and somehow, with his hell class, nothing drastic has happened yet. It’s almost unsettling, not that Shota’s complaining of course. He just… isn’t used to this relative normalness.

Whatever, he’s decided to just enjoy it. Perhaps the gods have finally decided to grant him a small break and the least Shota could do is accept that.

Anyway, Shota’s almost done giving his feedback speech to the kids and once it’s over, he’ll finally be free to take a much deserved nap.

“All in all, you guys did a good job today. Each of you know what you need to improve on individually so make sure you do. Dismissed.”

The class tiredly falters to the changing rooms at his words, except one stays where he is. The sight makes Shota sigh.

This is gonna be trouble, he thinks. The particular kid who's decided to stay behind is kind of notorious for- well he’s notorious for a bunch of things, but Shota will just use the word ‘danger’ for now.

Bakugou walks towards him as soon as the rest of the class is gone.

“Hey teach, I uhh gotchu somethin’.” The absolute hell child kind of awkwardly scratches the back of his head with those words. It’s obvious he’s having trouble with this, nevertheless Shota is incredibly proud of how far he’s come with his people skills. “Happy birthday I guess.”

Bakugou hands him a small, poorly wrapped package.

Honestly, Shota’s pretty surprised by the gesture. He… wasn’t expecting this. The class has already congratulated him with cake and gifts this morning, it was cheesy and sappy and sweet and it was done. The moment has already been had and it’s also already passed. Now Bakugou, of all people, is showing an extra form of affection towards him with whatever is wrapped in that paper.

Has the kid been hit with a quirk or something?

Unwrapping the package, Shota discovers... a collar.

Oh god.

It’s red with black seams on the outside and black with red seams on the inside.

Shota’s getting a very foreboding feeling about this, he’s also quite confused.

The man looks up to find Bakugou smirking.

“You can flip it around so either the black or red side shows.” The boy says.

“Bakugou, wha-?”

“I chose this colour cause it matches with his eyes.”

The kid crosses his arms over his chest. Somehow, the smirk on his face grows, an unnamed feeling in Shota’s chest grows with it.

“Also, I haven’t gotten a name tag yet cause I figured you’d want to name him yourself. Personally, I kinda liked ‘Dynamite’, but it’s obviously up to you though.”

Shota gulps. Pieces are falling together and he’s not sure he likes the picture they show.

What exactly did his devil spawn student do?

There’s no way- did he? Did he do what Shota thinks he’s done?

“Alright alright, look.” The kid says, hands up in a defensive stance. “Calm down sensei, jeez. Stop looking at me like you’re having a heart attack. I’ll explain, Okay?”

Shota takes a deep breath. He will show now sign of hope or excitement on his face.

“I was out on a run last week and I found a stray cat. I brought it back to the dorms cause it looked like shit and I- I just didn’t wanna leave it there.” Bakugou frowns at that, his gaze tears away from Shota’s and focuses on the ground instead. “Whatever. It’s really sweet and it deserves a good home. I knew you really liked cats and with your birthday coming up and all I just kinda figured you might want him? If you don’t then that’s fine of course, I just- hmph. It’s a good cat, okay?” The words are spoken clearly, Shota knows they’re used to hide insecurities though. Katsuki’s on the defensive.

There’s a lot to unpack. The main thing Shota notes is that Katsuki’s clearly gotten attached to this cat of his.

To be honest, Shota’s already made up his mind about this.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been hiding a cat in your dorm room for a week now? You’re aware that’s against the rules right?” He keeps his voice calm and monotone.

The kid huffs. “Yeah, I have. And I do. I wanted to wait till your birthday to give him to you though, it’d kinda spoil the surprise if I told you.”

“True.” Shota stands up, thank god his capture weapon is there to hide his smile.

Katsuki looks up to him and there’s a bit of a pause. He stares at Bakugou and Bakugou stares right back.

“Well, am I going to be allowed to meet Dynamite or what?” Shota says, one brow quirked up in challenge.

Bakugou releases a breath, shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, you better take good care of him though, sensei. You won’t be forgiven if you don’t.” There’s a smirk on the boy’s lips, but his eyes are dead serious.

A fucking shovel talk.

Heh, leave it to his hell child to give such a casual yet intimidating shovel talk about a cat.

Pretty impressive.

He’ll be a fine hero, Shota thinks.

---

So, Dynamite is a fucking angel. Shota loves him and it’s no wonder Bakugou got so attached to him, the cat literally follows the boy around everywhere and Bakugou is definitely its favorite person.

It’s kind of nice, seeing the kid relax and let loose whenever he comes over to the teachers dorm for the creature. It happens quite often and Shota even brings the thing over to the dorms sometimes, just so Bakugou can hang out with it for a while.

What? It’s good to see the kid’s shoulders slump down whenever Dynamite sits on his lap. Bakugou absentmindedly strokes soft, black fur and the actions automatically makes his guard drop, albeit slightly.

Honestly, at this point Dynamite isn’t even his cat anymore. It’s his and Bakugou’s cat.

Shota doesn’t mind.

#IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO ANSWER #pls forgive me ive just been so busy #and i really kinda hated my writing #but i felt so guilty for making you wait so long :((#am very very sorry #anyway #the cat and katsuki are besties :)#Dynamite chills on katsukis shoulders all the time #it very cute #bnha #bakugou katsuki #shota aizawa #a cat #BNHA Headcanons #my hero academia #Headcanon #disclaimer btw: i know nothing about cats #do like them tho #folder ask!!

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nomazee · 4 years

Text

Slow

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

word count: 3400+

content: soulmate au (matching soulmarks), developing relationship, mild angst, ushijima is just Very Clueless sometimes, weird pacing (i can never get the pacing of my writing right :/ )

(hi hi hi!! here’s the ushijima oneshot i mentioned a few days ago. this was something i started working on a while ago but dropped it momentarily to focus on some other stuff. i ended up rewriting it completely and renewing the concept a bit.

this is sort of a different writing style? but that’s mainly because i wanted to adjust the way i wrote to the way the reader’s thoughts came through. i hope that makes sense? and i hope this is still readable!!

i really hope you guys like this one. while soulmate aus aren’t my most favorite trope, i definitely like the way you can twist it to fit your story and make up new concepts branching from the main idea of soulmates.

i think this is the longest work i’ve made?? i’m definitely pretty proud of it!! i hope my hard work paid off and you all enjoy it :)

ALSO: a very quick note. i use the word “furoshiki” a few times in one part of the story to refer to the cloth that people use to wrap bento boxes. if i misused that term please let me know!! i looked it up to make sure i was using the right word but there’s definitely still a chance that i could be wrong. feel free to correct me on that!!

by the way: i’m posting this from my phone right now so the formatting might not all be there. i’m very sorry about that!! once i get the chance to go back on my laptop i’ll make sure to fix everything :)

happy reading !!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

It was common knowledge among those in the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club that their captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi, prioritized volleyball over nearly everything else.

Even relationships. Even soulmates.

His friend Tendou had laughed mirthlessly when Ushijima first met you, his soulmate. He was there to witness the whole thing, your eyes flitting between the ace’s soulmark trailed beautifully against his wrist and the same mark mirrored on your forearm. You looked enthused to meet him--not overly, hopping-off-the-walls ecstatic, but certainly hopeful enough to elicit a wide smile from you.

“I’m [Last] [First],” you introduced yourself politely, with light hesitance and an extended hand.

Ushijima blinked, looked down at your hand (soft, a red and scabbed cut on your first knuckle, a birthmark on the bony part of your wrist) and then back up at your eyes. He returned the gesture, shaking your hand, giving a polite bow--

--and walking right away.

You blinked in shock. Tendou’s mouth parted in disbelief. His head swung back and he called after Ushijima to no avail. Turning back to you, he gave a short apology and ran after his friend to scold (and tease) him.

Your mind went a bit hazy and in a natural defense mechanism, you tried to convince yourself that you were just dreaming.

You went home. Fell into your bed. Realized you were not dreaming. Cried into your pillow and fell asleep, begrudgingly waking up the next morning and getting ready for school.

---

During lunch, you stayed in your classroom to eat lunch alone when someone at the door told you a boy was looking for you. (You felt a bit pathetic for hoping that it was your soulmate and being disappointed when you realized it was not him.)

You recognized the boy as the redhead that accompanied your soulmate yesterday. Flinching at the memory, you asked him why he was here.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for the way my friend acted yesterday.” His expression was lighthearted and playful, if anything, but you recognized the sincerity of his words. “He tends to be a little… aloof, sometimes. But I promise you it’s not that he hates you or anything, just isn’t used to this. But he’s willing to talk to you again.”

You tried not to get your hopes up too much, and instead look at the reasonable outcomes of this whole soulmate thing. It’s not like you were really expecting love at first sight--lots of soulmates didn’t end up in a romantic relationship. Hell, your parents weren’t even soulmates but they were still very in love with each other. But at the very least, you thought your soulmate wouldn’t just walk away after meeting you.

You took the redhead’s offer, packed up your half-eaten bento, and followed him to his own classroom a few doors down.

Your soulmate was there--you still didn’t know his name--and his head perked up at the sound of the sliding door opening. His expression was stagnant, which dampered your spirits the slightest bit and made you consider spinning on your heel and locking yourself in the bathroom for the rest of the school day.

You sat with the two of them, knees clenched together and gaze focused solely on the bento box resting on your lap. None of you spoke. Tendou’s eyes flitted between the both of you in expectance.

“So,” he spoke up, thankfully breaking the bout of stifling silence. “[Name], you wanna tell us a little about yourself? We don't really know much about you outside of… the very little we learned yesterday, so…?”

Your mouth gaped and closed rapidly, trying to find a good way to describe yourself without either seeming like an interviewee or a self-absorbed rando.

“I’m… [Name]. I’m seventeen… in class one. I’m in the photography club.” There wasn’t much else to say, you thought. You were a very normal person. Maybe too normal to really be worthy of having a close bond with your soulmate, but a small part of you still sort of hoped.

“Wakatoshi, your turn.”

The taller boy blinked into his bento (hayashi rice, you noted. Something you were able to cook, if you tried hard enough) before speaking. His voice was deep and embarrassingly, you flushed at the way it rumbled within his throat.

“I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

Okay. So. No age. No name (except for ‘Wakatoshi,’ which you only pulled from what Tendou said). Just his club.

With a lump in your throat and a prickly feeling behind your eyes, you excused yourself politely, bowing, and clutching tightly to your star-wrapped bento before leaving the classroom.

You went home. Punched your pillow before realizing you were definitely not one for using aggression as a coping mechanism and instead crying while making a cup of tea. Went to bed and woke up the next morning trying to forget all of the events of the past two days.

---

A week passed. Somewhere within that time, Tendou had exchanged numbers with you as a polite formality, a deeper meaning ingrained in his offer (one that you read as, “hey, I know it must be really disappointing to realize that your soulmate has absolutely no clue what romance is and no ambition for anything but hitting a volleyball, but if you ever wanna talk about it then hit me up!” You couldn’t deny that you still appreciated it).

You took the week to avoid interacting with Wa-ka-to-shi, never texting Tendou and asking to eat lunch with them or even showing up at his practice like some of their fans did (you were a bit surprised to learn that the volleyball team had fans). But you had a breaking point, as you often did whenever it came to your faux-shunning.

You texted Tendou, hoping that you weren’t that unlucky that he was still at volleyball practice and had his phone out for the captain to view.

does he like hayashi rice?

“Read” appeared under your text. You waited for the three dots to appear, which took an unnervingly long time to happen.

yup! how’d u know??

he was eating it when i had lunch with you guys.

ur observant!!

i guess. do you guys have morning practice tomorrow?

yup! starts at 7. fourth gym :) see you there!!

You paused. Tendou was nice. Also very observant. Scarily observant, enough to catch onto what you were trying to do. It made you a bit wary, but to be fair, you weren’t really being discreet in the first place.

Your mother asked you multiple times why you were cooking beef stew at nine PM, far past dinnertime. You were scared to admit that it was for a soulmate, so you instead settled for “friend” and she (very suspiciously) let you be in the kitchen.

You packed the food into four bento boxes. One for your mom, your dad, Wa-ka-to-shi, and you. (You couldn’t help the annunciation of each syllable of his name. It was just so fun to say, so fun to click against the back of your tongue repeatedly. You blamed the affinity for his name on your soulmate bond.)

You went to bed. Woke up extra early. Disregarded the concerned look your parents gave you when you left the house half an hour early with two bentos in hand.

Just as Tendou said, there was the squeaking of the volleyball team from within Gym Number Four. You hovered outside, a text sent to Tendou asking if you were allowed to come in as you awkwardly shifted the weight on your feet.

yup!! we’re taking a break right now. just come right in, i’ll be waiting for u at the door

He was waiting for you at the door, but so was Wakatoshi (you figured you should drop the somewhat-annoying pronunciation of each letter), which threw you into a stammering loop as you blinked between the both of them.

“Good morning.” Wakatoshi greeted you politely, nodding his head at you. You repeated the gesture before extending a bento box to him, with your favorite star cloth wrapping it in the neatest way you could manage.

“It’s for you. For lunch. Or dinner. Or whenever. It’s hay-- um, hayashi rice.”

Wakatoshi didn’t take it. You cringed at the lack of action and a familiar lump manifested in your throat. The stoic boy blinked down at the childish wrap and you found yourself wishing you took a solid colored furoshiki instead of this one.

In a moment of boldness, you shoved the box into his chest where he instinctively reached for it and held it.

“I hope you like it!” You said it louder than intended and flinched at the sudden gazes on you from the other members of the team further into the gym. “Have a good day.”

A polite bow, and you were on your way, cursing yourself for taking the effort to make a decent-quality meal for a soulmate, a boy who barely even glanced at you without his friend giving him the hint to do so.

During lunch, you didn’t feel hungry, and the bento sat untouched on your desk for the whole break. You ended up letting your parents have the leftovers when you got home. Your appetite was gone for the rest of the day.

(Tendou ended up bringing you back your box and cloth the next day, wordlessly apologizing for having to be the messenger of your belongings rather than the person you actually gifted it to in the first place. You took it back with a resigned sigh and a thankful smile.)

---

The morning you stopped by, Tendou rolled his eyes after your departure and he gave his friend a firm, but friendly pat on the back.

“Why are you so awkward, Wakatoshi? That’s your soulmate, you know. You could at least be a little courteous towards her?”

Said man stayed silent, still leering at the patterned furoshiki covering the lunch you made for him--specifically him; the concept sent an unfamiliar fluttering through his chest that he didn’t dare to look into.

“Why would she make this for me?”

Tendou rolled his eyes again, letting out an audible groan.

“I just explained it to you, ‘Toshi! She likes you. You’re her soulmate. You could at least tell her thank you.”

“I will, next time.”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed at that. You seemed like a spontaneous person, from the few interactions you’d had with each other. (That, and the fact that after a week of ghosting your own soulmate you suddenly decided to make an entirely specialized lunch for him.) He wanted to half-joke and say ‘I don’t really know when the next time will be, exactly,’ but figured that may lead into another Q & A With Ushijima Wakatoshi, and instead let the captain simmer in his own contemplation for now.

---

You didn’t know Semi Eita very well. He was in your class, and you chatted a fairly reasonable amount with him, even going as far as to sit and eat with him in the classroom whenever he claimed he was “too tired to deal with his friends in the cafeteria.” As much of a “friend” of his you could be considered, you didn’t know much of him past what he was on the surface.

Nevertheless, you still knew him better than your soulmate. And that petty realization may have contributed to why you accepted his offer for a cafe date.

Semi approached you during lunch one day, not embarrassed in the slightest when he asked you if you wanted to go to a new cafe with him on Friday. “It can be a date, if you want,” he’d told you, eyes flitting to the side momentarily before meeting yours again. “But it doesn't have to be. We can just hang out.”

A bit flustered, you still accepted his offer, figuring a day out wouldn’t do much harm. He smiled at your response, asking you to meet him at his gym after his volleyball practice ended.

You didn’t think much of it. He certainly didn’t pressure you into assuming it was a date, and if you didn’t like it then you could just turn him down for a second date and move on with your single life.

On Friday afternoon, at five PM like he specified over text, you walked into the doorway of the gym, hovering and watching some of the boys clean up any spare equipment left in the gym. You couldn’t spot Semi anywhere, and moved to back away from the door when a familiar voice stopped you.

“[Name].” The sound of your first name coming from the rumble of your voice unwillingly sent shivers through your spine and you chastised yourself for the reaction.

You looked at him, and there he was--sweaty, all dark-hair and olive-eyes and you hated how flustered you got.

You gave him a polite nod and forced your lips into a smile. Despite you not responding verbally, he (uncharacteristically) led the conversation.

“It’s nice to see you here.” The words felt forced, almost rehearsed on his lips, and you couldn’t help the cock of your head in curiosity at that. “The food you made me last time was very good.” A pause, and his eyes turned to the polish wood floor. “Are you here to bring another gift?”

Wakatoshi was straightforward with his question, and at the unfamiliar aloofness you found your ears turning warm and fingers grasping at each other in habit.

“No, um-- I’m actually here to see… someone.”

“...someone?”

“Yeah. Someone.” You didn’t feel like elaborating, and by some sheer luck that you mentally praised the gods for, Semi jogged to your side, changed into his school uniform and a kind smile crossing his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you, turning up to his captain in confusion before focusing on you again. “Ready to go?”

Your eyes were forced off of Wakatoshi’s, and you returned Semi’s expression with a nod. You refused to look the captain in his eyes again, and instead focused on making sure you didn’t trip on the sidewalk while walking with Semi.

---

The date-- hang out-- outing-- whatever you wanted to call it went nicely. You both had pleasant, lighthearted, not-forced conversation over very good coffee and you found it enjoyable.

By the end of the night, while Semi walked you back home, you figured you had to address what you were a bit nervous to address in the first place. After explaining your hesitancy towards calling your hang-outs “dates,” Semi ultimately brushed it off, a smile on his face as he told you he really didn’t care too much and would enjoy just being a friend to you.

You were relieved. A quiet voice deep inside your head told you to not let this poor boy get hopeful when you were still trying to settle things with (read: get over) your soulmate. Regardless of secondhand reasoning, you were thankful he was understanding and also thankful he was willing to be a friend.

---

You found yourself eating lunch with Semi a bit more often than before. It was nice to have someone else’s presence near you while you ate rather than having to sit alone and people-watch through the window of the classroom.

You were startled when Wakatoshi appeared in the doorway of your classroom while in the midst of a conversation with Semi. Noticing your mildly dumbfounded expression, Semi turned around to see where you were looking and looked confusedly at the form of his fellow teammate.

Wakatoshi nodded at him, turned to you, and gave a wave and a very, very subtle upturn of his lips. (Despite the subtlety of the gesture, you had to suppress a gasp that threatened to break past the back of your throat.)

He didn’t make a move to approach you, so you took the opportunity to walk up to him and meet him at the door, unintentionally avoiding the questions Semi shot at you in confusion.

“Hi,” you greeted stiffly. “Do you need something?”

“No. Yes.” Wakatoshi paused, collecting his thoughts. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me.”

It was an unexpected offer, one you deemed uncharacteristic coming from the aloof boy. You let your mind overprocess it before cutting off your overthinking and giving him a proper response.

“I’m eating lunch with Semi today. But maybe tomorrow, if you still want to.”

A foreign look of confusion appeared on his face, his brows furrowed together and head tilting slightly to the side. “Are you dating Semi?”

Wow. Okay. Very straightforward. Very sudden. You certainly were not dating Semi, and you didn’t know how he managed to draw that conclusion after seeing you and Semi interact a total of two times in his presence.

“I’m not…? Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because we’re soulmates.”

Your stomach churned in a mix of emotions. You didn’t know how to describe your feelings--it was an ugly mesh of annoyed, angry, confused, and on-the-verge-of-tears. You found it a bit funny that only now he was acknowledging your soulmate bond. It made the prickling sensation behind your eyes only increase in intensity.

“Right. Um, you… you didn’t really do much about that before.” You tried not to call out word-for-word what he did, but figured a jab at it wouldn’t send you into guiltily reflecting on your past actions while in the shower at midnight.

He was silent, avoiding your gaze and finding interest in the cracked wood of the door. Before your subconscious forced you to apologize, you gave a polite farewell and slid the door halfway shut before returning to your seat.

Semi stared at you incredulously. “Are you…?”

“I don’t know, man.” Despite the sudden lack of appetite (yet again! You really were not good at any form of confrontation), you forced yourself to nibble on your food and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

---

Wakatoshi made a point to run into at any time he saw fit, which was very often. He’d find ways to catch you in the morning and say hi, and always invited you to eat lunch with him in his classroom. Out of courtesy, you often accepted his offer, feeling a bit surprised (and wary) when Tendou didn’t appear to accompany the both of you. Those lunch periods were spent in jarring silence, Wakatoshi slowly eating his food (cutely, you noted before burning that thought into the fiery recesses of hell in your mind) and you eating yours while sweating and hoping that you didn’t look weird when you chewed.

This routine kept going on for a solid week. You didn’t know what to expect anymore. Other than the lunch invitations and morning small talk, he didn’t make any outstanding gestures towards you to try to get closer. You didn’t know if that was good or bad.

One day, during lunch when you’d hesitantly accepted yet another offer to eat with him (ignoring Semi’s teasing look when you left the classroom), he made another strange offer, diverting from the usual discussions of weather, clubs, and schoolwork.

“I have a game soon.” He started off. “I’d like you to come watch.”

You paused, staring into your rice in an empty hope that it’d give you a clue on how to respond.

“It’s on Saturday. At twelve. The gymnasium isn’t too far from here. I’d like to take you to dinner afterwards.”

Oh. Oh. That was unexpected. And you were expecting the unexpected. Then again, maybe you should’ve figured that eventually he may have made some sort of move after waiting a week with bated breath.

Your lips parted, but no noise escaped. You wanted to accept, definitely, but you also wanted to be a little aware of his intentions.

“Um…” You floundered a little bit, “I’ll see if I can make it. But… um, dinner?”

“Yes.” Though his voice was steady and deep as always, you sensed hesitance in the way his eyes shifted away from yours and into his lunch. “A date.”

It was a relief to hear him just say it rather than beating around the bush. You cleared your throat in habit and scratched the skin of your thumb.

“Oh. Okay. That would… be nice.”

He smiled. It wasn’t the occasional tilt of his lips, it was a smile. Stretched lips, crinkled eyes and all. You lost your breath at the sight and a soundless laugh escaped your lips.

“Yes. I think so too.”

It was a slow start. It would take some getting used to. But you were both willing to guide each other, slow and steady.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #ushijima wakatoshi #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima #wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

290 notes · View notes

jae-writes-fanfiction · 4 years

Note

omgggg im stoked ur on the slasher train now!!! for ur spooky event could you do drabbles for them comforting a really kinda sad s/o??? ik this wasnt on the prompts list but 2020 has been v rough and i just wanna be held 😔

Pick Me Off The Ground

Notes: I ended up writing this for Pelle, The Candyman, Hannibal, Tiffany Valentine, Jennifer Check, and Susie Bannion. It’s been a long ass time since I got a drabbles request, I hope the formatting is okay.

Warnings: Refernces to being sad, I struggle with depression/anxiety so some of the terminology and descriptions I use can be trigger or relate to depression, also they’re all murderers. Enjoy Responisbly ❤️

- - -

Pelle

Your shoulders slumped and you hid your face on the cot trying to muffle the chocked sobs racking through your body. This entire trip was a disaster. You’d woken up that morning with a positive outlook, sure the Hårga wasn’t what you expected. But their beliefs and rituals, although grim, were fascinating as far as anthropology and psychology go. Pelle had shown you around all day, even letting you see pages from their sacred text. But when you got back to the center of town you were confronted by the other angry tourists complaining your friends had taken the only transport and left.

You were embarrassed by their rude behavior, and absolutely heartbroken that they hadn’t cared to wait for you. Members of the Hårga had calmed the other tourists and promised to take them to the airport as soon as possible. You felt utterly alone, and displaced. You froze when you felt a hand on your shoulder, your mind scrambling for an apology to send whoever was there away.

“I’m sorry about our friends,” Pelle said quietly, his voice soothing and remorseful.

You sniffled and sat up, wiping your eyes. “I’ve felt for a while I wasn’t fitting it but I didn’t know...” you bit your lip but couldn’t keep your eyes from welling with tears again.

Pelle sat closer to you, and pulled you into his arms. He didn’t say anything, just let you cry and for the first time in a very long time, it felt like someone truly cared about you. You felt warm, and safe.

- - -

The Candyman (Daniel Robitaille)

Every bone in your body ached, you were exhausted body and soul. Life had gotten to be so draining, so stagnent and empty. Your career felt stale and the late hours impossibly fruitless. You had just enough energy to kick your shoes off and drop your things at the door before collapsing into bed.

At first you were restless, tossing and turning your body unable to relax. Desperately you turned to gaze and whisper at the mirror over your dresser. You knew he didn’t like be summoned without a more malevolent purpose, but you were always the exception. You couldn’t feel his weight on the bed, but you could feel his presence in the room instantly.

You smiled softly as you felt his arms around you. You turned in his arms wishing he could appear in something other than the cloak, although you appreciated the added warmth.

“Daniel,” you whispered pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, you could feel him faintly but the smile on his face was plain enough to lift your spirits slightly.

“Hush, my love. Rest.” His voice, like always, filled the room around you yet at the same time sounded miles away. For a moment you felt as if the burdens weighing you down were just phantoms. In another minute you were asleep, pleasant dreams and your lover beside you keeping you at peace.

- - -

Hannibal Lecter

The rain outside soaked into your jacket as you got home from work. Classical music was already playing as you shucked your jacket and boots off in the mud room. Keeping your head down you walked directly to your room and closed the door. Sometimes when you had a bad day, Hannibal overstepped the line between psycho-killer boyrfriend and professional psychologist. You knew him, and he knew you all your darkest secrets. Yet sometimes when your own mind turned on you for no reason, you didn’t want to come home to another therapist.

You peeled the wet clothes off your body and dug around for your favorite pair of flannel bottom, and that one shirt of his that always ended up in your laundry. The softness of the fabric, the warmth of the flannel, the hint of his aftershave- they were all impossibly small comforts in the wake of what you knew to be a wave large enough to drown in.

Felling a little better you emerged from the non-confrontational sanctuary of your bedroom. You wandered into the living room and curled yourself into the corner of the couch. You picked up a book and turned the pages but the words weren’t sticking. You looked up from the pages, as Hannibal walked into the room carrying a tray.

“It’s your favorite,” he said smiling softly setting the tray down on the end table next to you. The food smelled perfect, the dish was one from your childhood and the drink along with it was your absolute favorite year and type of wine. The pairing was one you had never thought to put together, another glaring example of Hannibal’s particular genius. He sat next to you on the sofa reading quietly. Although it couldn’t fix or change how you felt, it was helpful to know even now, someone cared about you.

- - -

Tiffany Valentine

You were curled up in a ball, the tears still fresh on your face when Tiff got home.

“I swear to god I’ll kill him!” She said looking over your saddened state. Mascara ran down your face, your hair was disheveled and your eyes looked so sad it broke Tiffany’s little black heart clean in two.

Your boss had become a problem. He acted too familiar in private, around other employees he made jokes about your appearance, about your performance, hell he even made fun of your picture of Tiffany once. Nothing was off limits because he was the boss.

“He kept jokin’ during the meeting about firing me,” you said between sniffles, “I’ve worked there for five years I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

She crossed the room quickly to pull you into a hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong hes just a dick,” she said firmly. You laughed, and couldn’t help smiling through the tears as she held you. The soft curves of her body were inviting and promised you nothing would ever hurt you again.

“Now let’s get you all cleaned up we’re going out!” Your protestes were silenced with a quick kiss. “There’s nothing better than a hot date, and a little retail therapy,” she said with a wink pulling you to your feet.

You nodded and let her lead you by the hand back out to the car. Anytime you had a bad day she pulled out all the stops until you were absolutely spoiled and tonight would be no different- except tomorrow morning at work you’d get another present. And Tiffany would add another man to her list of recently deceased assholes.

- - -

Jennifer Check

It was past midnight when your girlfriend came home, covered in blood. It wasn’t an unusual sight but the dress she had been wearig was in tatters and you were certain some of the fluid was hers.

Panic quickly set in, and you ran to her side your hands flashing over her body trying to stop the bleeding. You pulled your shaking hands away, they were covered in dark blood. As She gasped and fainted you ran to catch her and smeared the dark substance over her skin.

As her surprisingly human looking body hit the ground, you woke up. The nightmare made your skin crawl, and you could feel tears streaming down your face. Jennifer, who wasn’t dead yet wasn’t exactly alive, laid next to you.

She lazily threw an arm around you and pulled you closer. “I’m right here,” she mumbled sleepily. You shuddered as she kissed the lines of tears on your face. The gesture made fresh tears threaten to spill over, but you bit your lip and instead snuggled closer into her chest. For now she was there, for now things would be okay. You felt her stroke and play with your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

- - -

Susie Bannion

You stormed through the dormitories, stopping only at your bed. You haphazardly grabbed shirts and linens stuffing them into the suitcase on top of your mattress. If the other girls didn’t think you were up to snuff, that was their problem. You didn’t have to stay.

Your bag was mostly packed when you started biting back tears. You’d worked your whole life for this chance, would you really give up now just because they wanted you too? You didn’t know that answer but you did know something inside you felt broken. Shakily, you sat down on th edge of your bed and held your head in your hands.

“Are you okay?” You quickly looked up and saw Susie standing there her head slightly cocked to the side as she observed your hastily packed case and distraught appearance.

You shrugged helplessly and tried to wipe the tears from your face.

“I don’t belong here,” you said. Your tone sounded like a challenge and Susie wasn’t one to back down. She dropped herself to sit next to you, and started stroking your hair as you began to cry openly.

“You’re the only one that belongs here,” she whispered wrapping an arm around you. You felt her kiss the top of your head, and it was like magic. As if she had chosen you to be her person, and in that moment the world changed and you were no longer an outsider.

#slasher x reader #freakyfics #midsommar #Candyman #nbc hannibal #bride of chucky #jennifer’s body #suspiria 2018 #pelle #the candyman #daniel robitaille #hannibal lecter #human tiffany valentine #Jennifer check #susie bannion

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chunhua-s · 3 years

Note

hi baby! CONGRATS 🎉 on 200!! HEHE and ur wish is my command— tho, this time, i’ll put off friends to lovers for mafia!au whew 😆 and my favourite boy, mr bokuto koutarou <33 (i think i’m rlly in lovvv w him 🥲) i love u!! hope u enjoy writing this hehehe 💙

atiq, sweetie!! thanks so much for requesting from me!! and thanks for always swapping ideas for haikyuu with me 🥺 i love our interactions and everything you add to our discussions is always so golden!! your mind? amazing, astronomical, built different. and i know how much you love kou so i’ll work extra hard on this request for you!! ilyyy 🥰 and i hope you enjoy it!! i cannot tell you how badly i wanted to write a mafia au for a while and i was actually hoping that someone would request one for me for this event! originally i had three different ideas for this oneshot, but across all three i wanted our reader to be in a oosition of power — a ruler rather than a bystander in the grand theme of things of that makes sense? i just... i really like writing female characters with a strong presence that you can feel pressuring you whenever you’re around her. when i chose this route for the plot, i added a little twist to it since i thought forbidden lovers would be another good fit for this — i hope this is okay with you? it still falls under your original request but with just a touch of another really fun trope! uhhh for the song i did struggle a little with choosing it, but i think the vibe of this song fits better than what i had in mind? it the lyrics capture the whole “i’m helpless when it comes to you” theme that i wanted to put into this oneshot, like it’s a sensation that the other person has so much power over them that they can’t resist. anyways enough with my rambling — please enjoy the story! and as always, don’t be afraid to tell me what you all thought of it 💕 and a big thank you to runa for giving me a hand with writing this when i got stuck! ily wifey 🥰

WHERE YOUR LIGHT SHINES BRIGHTEST ➽ KOUTARO BOKUTO x READER

genre: drama— tiny bit of angst if you squint

au: mafia au with some hints of forbidden lovers

warnings: none other than the au type if that makes anyone uncomfortable!

your relationship with him is like something written straight out of fiction — the tale of two lovers whose paths should never meet.

as the rules dictate, a queen should never kiss the hand of her servant. it’s unheard of — the mere thought of it could be called ridiculous had it ever left from your lips. and even you had frowned upon it once upon a time. back then, you would never have even entertained the notion of love within your business. the word love has no place inside a frozen heart, it’s petals without a home on cold northern land. as a woman in your world, you couldn’t afford love, not with your money, nor with your time. to you, all it had ever been was something too expensive and not worth the pain that would trail after its name. and so, the empress closes her heart and builds her throne on the skulls of men who dared to challenge her power, sews her dresses from their flesh and blood and decorates her neck with silver bones, her fingers with rings of thorn. you become a force in the underworld, one that demands respect with your name alone and causes the blood of those who should doubt you to run cold with fear. in the cruel and unforgiving world of pain and bloodshed, you blossom beautifully, and you run your empire on the same harsh principles that you once fought against to get to the top.

but the queen, she has a weakness — one lonely spear that rests right over her heart, piercing the skin there and drawing rivers of blood from her opening wounds. the queen who once spat on that four-letter word and scorned it with every part of her being, she fell in love with her right hand man. you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into golden eyes that shine like the sun itself, you’re rendered defenseless in the face of his light that shines like a beacon in your dark world. you’re a moth to his flame, and you so carelessly let yourself burn on embers of adoration and worship. for him, you abandon your personal code and allow your heart to dance in the palm of his hand. for koutaro bokuto, you allow yourself to bury your crown on a sandy beach, you let him pull you into golden waters and teach you how to swim in his ocean.

music blares outside of the private room, where neon red lights hide the trails that his lips leave across your skin. he fills you lungs with a subtle aroma of sweet oranges and a sort of earthy scent that’s almost lost under the overwhelming smell of gunmetal and blood that clings almost desperately to his clothes— as if to suffocate his fire and leave the both of you cold. when you pull away from his arms, you find his golden eyes already searching for you through black and white strands of hair that you gently brush from his forehead; he leans into your touch with his eyes closed, and his lips come apart to exhale the weight that sits on the both of your chest. the gun in his belt suddenly becomes heavier, as if it would pull him under if it weren’t for your hands around his waist, supporting his body when he tiredly collapsed into you. guilt turns your stomach over with a sickness so powerful that your resolve wavers, flickering like the surface of a calm lake disturbed by a single stone — that stone, you think bitterly, is your throne. the empire you’d created that you can no longer run from.

“you did well for me, kou,” you whisper against his skin, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and sinking further into his arms as if to permanently mold your bodies together. “you always do so well.”

he pulls back once again to lock gazes with you, golden hues drinking red wine to shine on a sunset blaze. you see his lips pull upwards in the beginning of a smile as your thumb traces the shape of his jawline, his hand coming up to cradle your own when he leans into your touch. “i live to serve you, my queen,” he mutters into your palm, and you swear you feel the devotion behind his words as they rumble across your skin like thunder. “i’ll do anything for you — just give me the order and i’ll get it done.”

you bring his face closer to yours and press your lips against his, feeling his entire body relax above you as his hands lock around your waist, draws you closer into him so that your figure curves into him. what space once existed between the two of you vanishes as you steal his breath from his lungs and lose yourself on sweet ocean waves. your voice of reason goes muted under every hushed gasp that falls from your caving chests chests, codes and conduct vanish beneath the heavy base of the music that blasts from outside the private room. when you pull away, the both of you are breathless, left to drag in slow, heaving gasps as if the air surrounding you both had vanished.“good,” your lips brush against his lips, your eyes flutter closed as your forehead leans against his. and you don’t dare doubt the validity of his words — in your world, an oath bears the same weight as a pound of flesh. false promises are punished in blood and sacrifice, and one would do well to quickly learn to never lie under any circumstance.

your smile softens on its edges as you press your head against his chest, falling into the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. a queen can’t afford to fall in love in such a dark world, but you think that, for koutaro, it’s alright to let your guard down and offer him your heart.

he would never betray you, after all.

davi hits 200 followers — haikyuu!! au writing event! 💕

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy

send an ask to be added!

#bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader scenario #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader scenario #bokuto x reader imagine #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #bokuto koutarou #hq!! x reader #davi hits 200! ✨#haikyuu!! au event 💫

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asian-hero · 4 years

Note

Hi! “I can't pretend anymore!” + “That sounds a lot like ‘goodbye.’” for Todoroki Shouto please! also, may I have a link to ur masterlist? (○ﾟεﾟ○)

A/N: Debating on whether or not I want to write a second part to this (Pro Hero!AU)

The next request I have is more fun and sweet, I promise

p.s. here’s a link to my masterlist (my bnha section is embarrassingly small, please send in some more requests!)

“I can’t pretend anymore!” + “That sounds a lot like a ‘goodbye.’” from this prompt list (feel free to send in a sentence(s) and a character)

Part two of this fic is available here: Despite the Fights, I Still Love You

Summary: You knew what you were getting into when you decided to date a pro hero, all of the secrecy, the late nights waiting up for Shouto to get home. Despite this, you couldn’t help the anger forming whenever he’d miss yet another date night, the nausea you felt when you saw him fighting a tough battle, or the wave of jealousy that came whenever you saw hundreds of fans online talk about how “good” with whoever he was working with. So, you had to ask yourself: is it even worth it anymore?

Words: 1,951

In all honesty, you should’ve known that dating Shouto would be tough, he was a pro hero after all. So, you felt as though you should be a bit more understanding when it came to certain things, like not telling people that you two were dating, in fear that you’d be used as a pawn for the villains one day, or whenever you had to rush to the hospital because he pushed himself too hard, the fear gripping your heart as you prayed that he wouldn’t be dead. However, it was hard to be so understanding when it came to being stood up, once again, in your own damn home, which was currently where you were now.

It was your four year anniversary with Shouto, and you wanted to surprise him with a stay-at-home date, since neither of you liked to go outside anyway. You had texted him earlier, making him promise that he’d be home tonight, but gave no further instructions after that. For the past few months, you’ve felt that you relationship with the man had been at a sort of stand-still, or perhaps it was declining, you weren’t really sure. It seemed as though every time the two of you could finally be alone, Shouto was called in for work. Whether it be due to a villain outbreak, a rescue mission, or just to give a surprise lecture at U.A., you two just never seemed to have the time for each other anymore. It also didn’t help that, whenever he’d come back home, he either rushing off to bed to sleep, or you were already passed out on the couch, waiting for him. Sometimes, a small voice in your head was telling you that he just didn’t care anymore, that you two feel into some sort of lull, where he knew you’d always be there, so there was no need to try anymore. Of course, you’d push those thoughts back, feeling guilty that you’d even think that way. The man was busy, there was no way he could possibly be in two places at once.

So, you decided to change things, starting with your anniversary dinner. Tonight, you two would finally get to relax together and have an actual conversation. You truly did go all out, setting the table to resemble some fancy restaurant, lighting candles to set the mood, and even going out of your way to buy some roses from a cute little flower shop not too far away from you. Unsurprisingly, you decided to make soba, hoping that the dish would make your boyfriend smile, something you hadn’t seen in a while.

Once you had everything all set up, you rushed off to your shared bedroom to finish getting ready. Taking off your normal loungewear, you slipped into a nice pair of pants and a simple top, not wanting to be too dressed up, but not too underdressed. Checking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a deep breath, one that you didn’t know you’d been holding in.

Exiting your room, you decided to sit down at the table, a content smile resting upon your lips. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited. Quite honestly, you were looking forward to ogling your handsome boyfriend while the two of you ate, since God knows how long it’d been since you’ve been able to do that. Also, to be a bit more sappy, you were just elated that Shouto had found the time to come home early and eat a proper meal with you. Though you didn’t want to admit it, you often found yourself worried about him, not only because the line of work he was in, but also because you were worried that he wasn’t taking proper care of himself. You could tell that, every night he came home and passed out, that he wasn’t getting enough rest, and, perhaps your eyes had deceived you, but one early morning, around three, you were almost certain you saw him just pound down a packet of espresso. Not mix it with boiling water, no, but just eating straight up powder. So in your mind, you felt justified in your worries about his eating habits.

Fidgeting with your hands, you looked up at the clock. He was currently ten minutes late. You didn’t worry too much about that, since you knew that Shouto was probably finishing up some last minute paperwork. After all, he did promise that he’d be here tonight.

However, ten minutes soon turned into twenty, and then twenty turned into an hour, then another hour, and another, until the man was three hours late. To say that you were upset would be an understatement: you were angry. This was the fifth time the man blew you off, and those little voices of doubt were starting to come back. Your patience was running thin, and you could only be understanding for so long.

Deciding to wait just a bit longer, you slumped back into your chair, pulling out your phone to do a bit of mindless scrolling through social media. Unfortunately for you, this was probably the worst decision you could’ve made for yourself. As soon as you opened your app, you were bombarded with pictures of “Pro Hero: Shouto” with a trainee at his agency who was just a bit too close for comfort. Normally, you weren’t the type to get jealous, as you were used to seeing him be fawned over by thousands of girls and boys, but, the way that he was smiling with her, that was what threw you off.

You hadn’t seen him look so happy in months. Seeing that, some girl could get him to smile like that, but you couldn’t, it wore off the last of your seemingly endless patience. Looking at the comments underneath the photo didn’t help either. Most of them were about how “cute” they would look together, wondering if she’s his secret “girlfriend.” It pissed you off. You were no longer angry, but instead full of seething rage and jealousy.

Rather than hurting what was left of your pride, you stood up, nearly knocking down the chair with how aggressive you were, and began to pack up your dinner. Rummaging through your drawers, you took a Tupperware dish and carelessly tossed the soba in, slamming the lid down once you were done. Afterwards, you started blowing out the candles, which, wasn’t that big of a task, since most of them fizzled out on their own.

In your own silent fit of rage, you didn’t notice the door opening, revealing your irritatingly attractive boyfriend. Hearing the slams of the cabinets, he winced slightly. Walking towards the kitchen, he peeked his head in, curiosity overtaking his tiredness.

“(Y/N)?”

Now, Shouto wasn’t really fearful of anything, as he’d pretty much seen everything in his line of work. But, when you whipped your head around so fast that he was sure you’d given yourself whiplash, he felt terrified. Not because he was afraid you’d do anything, but because he’d never seen you look so angry and, heartbroken.

“(Y/N),” He repeated, slowly walking towards you, “Are you—“

“Don’t you dare ask me if I’m okay.”

He stopped in his tracks, unsure of what his next move should be. It probably wasn’t in his best interest if he continued to move towards you, as you looked ready to tear his head off his body, which he had no doubt you could. But he also didn’t want to just stand there and look like a moron, though, it was his current and only plan of action. You didn’t seem to appreciate his silence, as your eyes seemed to glow with frustration.

Was it a bad time to admit how radiant he thought you looked?

“I can’t pretend anymore!” You yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation.

He blinked, not quite processing things. “Pretend..?”

You pointed a finger at the man, stalking up to him. “I can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not!”

Before he could interject, you poked his chest with your index finger, “No! You listen to me now, I’ve given you plenty of opportunities to talk to me.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be with you? I’d like to think that I’m a fairly considerate person, but you’re pushing me past my own perceptions of patience! These past few months you’ve barely said anything to me! The best I get is a ‘good morning,’ or ‘sorry, I’m too tired.’

“For the first few weeks, I could handle it. I knew you probably needed your space, so I did my best to give it to you. But weeks started turning into months, Shouto. Did you ever think of how your shitty distancing would impact me?”

You could see the annoyance welling up in his eyes, but you were too angry to care at this point.

“Don’t think that I don’t see those pictures of you and the trainee, either. I haven’t seen you smile like that in months. At this point, I just need to know if you’re even invested in this relationship anymore?”

Shouto staggered back, as if you hit him. It wasn’t long until his anger rivaled yours, though.

“You can’t just pin this all on me. A relationship is a two person job, you know.”

You honestly felt like you were on fire with how much anger rushed through your body. “I’m aware! I’ve been doing most of the work to keep it afloat!”

He scoffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes a bit. “You’re being dramatic, you know I can’t be here all the time, I have a job to—“

“Yes, yes, I know. You have a ‘job to do.’ I just wish you could be a bit more sympathetic to the situation! Or, better yet, make some time for us.”

“What do you expect me to do? Quit working as a hero?” You’d never seen so much contempt in his eyes, how absolutely upset he was.

“Why are you putting words in my mouth? All I want is for you to put some effort into this relationship. You assume that I’m just always going to be here, but I have needs too, you know!”

He sneered, no warmth behind his eyes. “You knew what you were getting into when you decided to date me,”

Just like that, all of the anger had dissipated from your body. With the adrenaline leaving your body, all you felt was how tired you were, how your bones ached, and how much you just wanted to be done with all of this. It felt as though you were just fighting a losing battle, and any shred of fight you had in you had suddenly disappeared. Looking back up at Shouto, you sighed.

“You know what? You’re right, I did know what it meant to date you. Had I known where we’d be now, I’d seriously question whether this was the right decision.”

Side stepping, you pushed away from him, slowly walking towards your shared bedroom. “I’m tired of fighting for us when you obviously don’t care,”

You could hear the small gasp coming from him, but you were too tired to care. You felt drained and all you wanted to do was sleep. Before you could turn the corner, his voice froze you in place:

“That sounds a lot like ‘goodbye.’”

Shrugging your shoulders, you took a steadying breath. “Maybe it is,”

Looking over your shoulder, you let a pitiful smile grace your face.

“Oh, and Shouto?”

His eyes met yours, tears threatening to fall over at any moment.

“Happy anniversary.”

#bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader

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miraculous-ninjabird · 3 years

Note

request!! bluewire (jay x pixal) but Prom Night 2208 au. Jay as Kyle, Pixal as Tess, Nya as Kate. (prom night 2208 is a song that george salzar sings btw) :) love ur page btw

Anon, I was thrilled to get this prompt. It was so, so good that I had to take the time to try and do it justice. I hope I succeeded.

Title: Prom Night

Words: 1693

Rating: G, no real warnings apply as far as I am aware

Bluewireshipping (Jay/Pixal)

Based on the song Prom Night 2208 by George Salazar

Alternating POV

Jay straightened his tie for probably the twentieth time. Tonight was the night. Prom. He’d passed by the leisure deck a little earlier, and things were really starting to look good. His date...wasn’t who he had been hoping it would be. Getting up the courage to ask Nya had ended up being nearly impossible, and his mom had ended up setting him up with someone else insead.

Pixal was somewhat of an oddity to him. She had transferred to the Zircon-4 just a month ago, from Echo fleet. Which was wild since Echo fleet was like, the best of the best. On top of that, she was Gamma-Class Elite. So really, he wondered what she was doing here at all. It was also a little strange to know his date was a recon droid, but one of his best friends was also a droid so maybe it wasn’t that weird. Not that any of it mattered in the end since he was only doing this because his mom had asked and it was just as friends anyways. No need to sweat the details.

Finally! Prom night was here and Pixal could not be more excited. She didn’t really know much about her date...other than his name was Jay and he was human. They had met a few times since she’d gotten here, and he was pretty funny. Pixal really liked him. However, she also had to remember that he was totally in love with Nya. But all the boys seemed to be in love with Nya, and she couldn’t really blame him. Nya was pretty cute. No matter how much she wished it could be true, she and Jay just weren't compatible. As long as she kept that in mind, the night would still be fun.

Jay is waiting for her outside the door to his apartment. Dressed in a sharp blue suit, and a tie that matched, it was hard to deny how attractive he was.

“Hey Pixal! You ready to go?” He asks cheerily. He gives her a soft smile, before averting his eyes.

“Yes. We can leave whenever you are ready.” She responds, trying really hard not to let disappointment flood her voice at the fact that he wouldn’t even look at her. That was a signal that she was more than capable of reading. That more than anything nailed home their directives for tonight really didn’t align. ‘Just get through the night Pixal,’ She thinks to herself. This was nothing more than a routine social function. Just like the hundreds of others she had attended before. Tonight was going to be fine.

In the short time Jay had known her, he had never realized just how beautiful Pixal was. It was incredibly obvious now though. She was wearing a silky purple dress that complemented the silver tone of her skin. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and fixed in place with a matching purple butterfly clip. When he looked closely, he also spotted cute little butterfly earrings. There was no doubting it. Jay was utterly and completely enchanted. He tries not to stare, and the only way he can seem to accomplish that is by not looking at her at all. Guilt flooded him. Come on Jay. Get it together. Just a friend thing, remember? You like Nya, not Pixal. Just get through the night, have fun, and everything would be fine.

Jay’s mom stops them for a quick set of photos, and then they are on their way. Dozens of other couples are heading the same way as them, congregating on the leisure deck. An usher of some sort points them to a table, and they take their seats.

“I heard that Kai was gonna try and use a cloaking ray to try and sneak in some booze.” Jay starts, an awkward attempt to make conversation. She feels him turn to look at her. “And uhhh...I like your earrings.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Pixal feels her thoughts going a little haywire at the compliment. What does she even say? “I like your shoes.” Jay lets out a nervous little laugh. ‘Okay. Wow. Of all the compliments, you decided to tell him you like his shoes? Why would you say that?’ Pixal berates herself internally.

“Oh hey! Food’s here! Wanna try some of this biopaste? I swear it’s good.” Jay grasps at the new opportunity to try and dispel a little of the awkwardness.

“Oh, sure! Let me just flip on the flavor sensor and…” Pixal takes a bite of the strange blue goo Jay was offering her. That certainly wasn't something she had ever seen back on Echo fleet. “Oh wow! That’s actually really good!”

“You can turn on your taste receptors on and off at will?” Pixal almost balks at Jay’s unexpected question.

“Yes. Did that make you uncomfortable? I apologize-” she starts, but the look Jay is giving her has her stopping short. He looks very impressed.

“Man, that’s so cool! I wish I could do that. Do you know how many terrible dinners that would have saved me from?” And just like that, the awkwardness is broken. They fall into an easy conversation, and Pixal finds they have several shared interests.

Maybe this night wasn’t going to be such a waste afterall.

By the time dinner is over, Jay finds he is becoming more and more attracted to his companion for the night. He is no longer dreading having to dance with her. She was cute and smart and in all honesty, he wanted to spend more time just talking with her. Good thing there would be plenty of time for that while they were dancing. Pushing back from the table, he moved to stand in front of her, offering a hand.

“Pixal, may I have this dance?” He asks. She smiles wildly.

“Yes. Yes you may.”

Jay leads her over to the dance floor. The music was spunky and upbeat, not great for a slow dance. That didn’t seem to bother Pixal though. She kept up with all of his movements, and had near perfect rhythm.

Several songs pass before something that really worked for slow dancing played. Taking up a dance position with her, Jay is once again struck by just how beautiful she is. He can see his own face reflected in her eyes, and god does he look love struck. Because maybe, just maybe, he is. All other outside distractions fade away until it felt like he and Pixal were the only people in the whole universe. He could stay here forever, swaying to the music out in the depths of outer space…

A soft tap on his shoulder brings Jay out of his trance. Breaking away from Pixal, he finds it’s Nya who has gotten his attention. Nya!

“Hey Jay. Mind if I steal you for just one dance?” Jay’s heart leaps into his throat. Nya wants to dance with him. Him!

“Is that okay with you Pixal? It’ll just be one dance.” He asks his date.

“Oh...Okay.” PIxal’s hesitancy goes right over his head, he’s so excited by the fact his crush actually wants to dance with him. This was his chance!

“Thanks Pix! I’ll be back, I promise!” He’s already taking Nya’s hand, and leading her away. Which means he misses the absolute devastation on Pixal’s face.

When she had been dancing with Jay, Pixal had felt like she was on top of the world. The way he had been looking at her. She had almost felt human. Almost wanted to be human, if only to be able to understand Jay just a little bit better. Then Nya had shown up and it was like Jay completely forgot about Pixal.

Watching them walk away, laughing nervously, had been a harsh snap back to reality. Right. This was only supposed to be a friend thing. Nothing else. He didn’t really want to be with her. Now that Nya was here, Jay didn’t need Pixal around. She didn’t fit with him and that was it. No point in analysing it any further.

Pixal makes sure she has her charger before turning and sprinting away. Screw being human.

Jay should have been over the moon. He and Nya swayed together, his head resting in her hair and hands settled delicately on her dress. Nya pulled him as close as she could. He should be happy. This is what he wanted. Expect apparently it wasn’t. Because the only thing he can think about is Pixal. Pixal, Pixal, Pixal.

“That was fun. Want to keep dancing?” Nya asks hopefully as the song ends, but Jay is already pulling away.

“Sorry, I can’t. I really need to go find Pixal.” He apologizes. He rushes back to where he and Pixal had been sitting, but she isn’t there. Her bright silver form isn’t visible in the crowd either. She had mentioned wanting to go down to the hanger bay before the night was over…

Suddenly he’s sprinting. Maybe she was there. He prays she is. Man, he had messed up so bad. Hopefully she would be there and he would be able to apologize, and tell her everything that had been going through his head that night.

The door hisses open, startling Pixal out of her thoughts. What startles her even more though, is who’d come through the door.

“Jay? What are you doing here?” Hope swells inside her.

“I wanted to dance with you one more time before the night is over. I hope I’m not too late?” He rubs his head sheepishly. Pixal’s heart soars.

“Ask me. I won’t hesitate,” She finds herself answering, mouth running ten steps ahead of her thoughts. Jay steps forward, taking her hand gently.

“Just one dance though. Then I’d hit the breaks if I were you. You really don’t want to fall for me. Us humans...we really tend to be pretty lousy flakes.” He twirls her around, then pulls her close. They sway gently to non-existent music. Screw human tendencies. Pixal knew what she wanted.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?” he breaths, ticking her hair.

“I am a robot. I don’t make mistakes.”

#ninjago #bluewire #bluewireshipping #pixal borg #jay walker #I finished this at 12:39am #malcolm’s writing #will edit later #writing requests #anon #ask to tag

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butlerbarb · 4 years

Text

Sweets (Leviathan x Reader)

i suppose i should start this blog off with the first fic i posted on ao3!

Staring at yourself in the mirror as you fiddled with your uniform, you sighed. It just didn’t fit right! Diavolo had said he found the one that matched your human world size the closest, but apparently demons and humans were different in more ways than you thought. With another tug at the chest area, you groaned, deeming it good enough for now. You’d get Asmodeus to fix it later.

Exiting your bathroom, you grabbed your D.D.D just as it buzzed to life with a text. Catching Leviathan’s name on screen, you smiled and unlocked your device. Taking a quick look at the text Mammon had sent you – something along the lines of wanting you to skip with him again – before you opened Levi’s.

Leviathan: Gud morning. Are you going to RAD today?

[Y/N]: …I HAVE to go.

Leviathan: Why do you have to go? You’d have a better time skipping school and playing games with me all day.

You rolled your eyes. Really, what was it with these demons and wanting you to skip school? It was everyday that at least one of the more troublesome brothers asked you to skip and do something else with them. Even if some days you wanted to skip, you knew Lucifer would have you hide if he did, so you tended to avoid any of their persuasion.

[Y/N]: I AM a student, after all.

Hitting send on the text, you clicked your phone off and shoved it into your pocket. Pulling the door to your room open, you were immediately greeted by Mammon, fist already raised into the air to knock on your door. His eyes went wide, and he laughed, his hand falling and landing on his hips in typical Mammon fashion. His shocked expression quickly morphed into a grin that oozed confidence, again, typical Mammon fashion.

“Are you psychic now, Human? Or were you just that excited to see the GREAT Mammon, that you came rushing out of your room?” Mammon spoke, as cheerful and loud as ever. You stared at him, shaking your head at his overflowing confidence, he was very annoyingly cute.

“Yes, Mammon, I was just SO excited to see you this morning I came rushing out of my room as soon as I heard your footsteps.” You spoke sarcastically, hoping Mammon would catch it. He didn’t. Instead, your words only seemed to inflate his ego more. You watched in disbelief as his grin grew wider and a small blush dusted his cheeks.

“Ha-ha! Of course, ya’d be excited to see me! I am the GREAT Mammon, after all!” He boasted again, leaning down slightly towards you. You laughed, rolling your eyes again and reaching a hand towards his waiting head. You gave his hair a ruffle, bushing a part of it out of his eyes.

“Yes, yes of course, you are very great, Mammon. Now let’s go to breakfast please, I’m starving.” Mammon let out a quiet, happy cheer at your praise, refusing to pull away from your hand until you pushed him away. He took off down the hall, leaving you to walk by yourself, to which you wonder what the point of him coming to your room was anyway. With a shake of your head, you pulled your phone out of your pocket as it buzzed again.

Leviathan: OOH, GOODY 2 SHOES OVER HERE

You snorted at the text, getting read to type a reply when another two texts popped in from Leviathan.

Leviathan: Well, go on and go if you’re gonna go. Come back home quickly tho. Leviathan: I can’t do any of the co-op dungeons by myself, you know.

You laughed, smiling to yourself as you walked down the stairs to the first floor. You had forgotten that Leviathan had made you play on of his PC games with you the other day, claiming that it wasn’t cause he liked you, he just need someone to do the two player dungeons with and you were the most reasonable choice. He was cute.

[Y/N]: Roger, boss! <3

You watched in amusement as he read the text immediately and the three dots popped up, disappeared, popped up a second time and then disappeared again. Leviathan never ended up replying, much to your amusement, making you think he simply went into emotional overdrive and shut down. He was really cute.

You pocketed your phone right as you stepped into the dining room. Claiming the seat in between Mammon and Beelzebub, you greeted everyone at the table and began piling some food onto your plate. Beelzebub always made comments about how little you ate – although everyone ate very little compared to him – not realized that you couldn’t eat most of the stuff demons ate. Monkey brains, spider legs, you swore you caught Satan downing a vial of poison before. Demons ate things you were sure would kill you in the most painful way possible.

After breakfast, Mammon and Beelzebub accompanied you to your class – Mammon unwillingly, of course – and you spent most of the morning trying to get both brothers to focus on their work instead of slacking off. You felt your phone buzz a few times, but you made sure not to make a habit of checking your phone in class, you didn’t want your teachers, and subsequently Lucifer, getting mad at you.

Around lunchtime was when you finally pulled out your phone at Mammon’s insistence. He demanded you check out this new game he had playing, claiming you would like it as well. You noted that you had a few texts from some demon friends the brothers said would be okay for you to talk to, most just asking if you were busy after school, wanting to hang out. You would have, had you not had plans with Leviathan. Texting them back, telling them you were busy, you then proceeded to the app store to download the game Mammon wanted you to.

You opened it up, both Mammon and Beelzebub now leaning over your shoulder to watch you play. It was a rhythm game focusing on cute, demon idol girls. It also contained gacha elements, so you knew this was just another game Mammon would blow all his money on until he got bored. It was fun, and you had no trouble picking up how to play, having fallen victim to plenty of rhythm games back in the human world.

Mammon complained as you easily S-ranked even the hardest difficulties, claiming he was only able to do up to normal, hard on some songs. Beelzebub laughed at him, claiming he just didn’t have any rhythm himself, which of course, set Mammon off on a tyrant. You ignored Mammon’s insistent yelling, tuning both brothers out as you focused on a particularly difficult song. You tuned them back in once you were finished, only to watch as Beelzebub full-combo-ed an especially difficult song on max difficulty. You high-fived the younger brother, laughing as Mammon complained in the background.

Turning back to your phone, you caught a glimpse of a notification banner sliding off-screen. Closing the rhythm game, you opened your messages, seeing Leviathan’s name at the top. Seeing as he completely ignored your last message made you chuckle.

Leviathan: What’s uuuup? Ur still at RAD, rite? Could you hit up Lament and get some Bufo Egg Milk Tea for me on your way home?

Smirking to yourself, you typed out your reply:

[Y/N]: My services do not go free of charge

You could feel Levi rolling his eyes at you as he typed his response. Once Levi had started warming up to you after making a pact with him, you realized he enjoyed it when you gave him playful responses and teased him lightly. He was always annoyed when his brothers did it, but for some reason played along when it was you.

Leviathan: FINE, be that way [Y/N], I’ll give you some cash so you can get something for yourself, too. I’m still gonna ask you to pay me back tho lol. Thanks in advance 👍

[Y/N]: Aw, you’re the best Levi! I’ll be home in a little, you better have snacks ready :3

After your conversation with Levi, the bell rang for the end of lunch. You headed back to your classroom with both brothers in tow, happily anticipating the end of the day. Your last classes were fairly laid back, meaning time passed by in a blur. Once you and everyone else were released, you insisted Mammon and Beelzebub take you to Lament, knowing you’d probably get lost on your own. You made the trip as quick as possible, knowing if you stayed there for any longer than necessary Beelzebub would try to order everything in the café. You got what Levi wanted, and a snack and drink for yourself with the money he sent you. Mammon demanded you buy him something as well and pouted when you told him you only had the money Levi lent you.

After waiting for an extra 15 minutes so Beelzebub could get his absolutely massive order, the three of you headed back to the House of Lamentation. You quickly ditched the second- and sixth-born brothers in favour of the third-born. You knocked on his door gingerly, entering quickly after you recited the secret password. Leviathan was reclined on his bed, phone in hand as he gazed up at you. He held his hand out expectantly, and you took the hint to hand him his drink. He shifted over slightly in the bed, allowing you room to scooch in beside him.

“What’d you get?” He asked, gesturing to the drink and paper bag you held in your hand. You only shrugged in response; you weren’t really sure what you got yourself. Mammon had pointed out the things that were most “human-friendly,” so you just got that. Explaining that to Levi, he only nodded in response before going back to his phone. You took an experimental sip of your drink, slightly scared about what it would do to you, only to find that it was actually surprisingly good!

You hummed happily as you continued to sip on your drink as Leviathan laughed beside you. Taking the pastry you got out its bag, you started at it in slight horror. It looked… strange to say the least. It was a cupcake that you had thought was adorned with a fondant eyeball and icing. As it turned out, this guess was very, very wrong. The eye seemed to follow you as you moved it around and to your utmost horror, it blinked. Had you not been in Leviathan’s room, you most likely would have thrown it across the room. With a grimace, you held it out to the demon beside you.

“Is this like… safe for me to eat? It feels like it’s gonna attack me if I do…” You spoke quietly, eyeing the cupcake warily. Leviathan laughed at your question, grabbing your wrist to bring the item closer to his face. He sniffed it, before letting go of your hand and shaking his head.

“Nah, I think you’ll be fine, lol. I think it’s chocolate.” He replied, using his pinky finger to swipe a bit of the icing off of it. Bringing it to his mouth, he nodded in confirmation as he licked the sweet icing off his finger.

“Yeah that’s chocolate. The eye won’t hurt you, it’s not actually real.”

“But…”

“No buts! Just eat it or go give it to Beel.”

With a sigh, you hesitantly brought the dessert to your mouth. Taking a small bite out of it, your eyes lit up at the taste. Surprisingly, it was just as good at the drink! You happily took a bigger bite, no longer feeling creeped out by how it was seemingly living, you were free to enjoy how yummy it was.

“See? I told you it was good, normie.” Leviathan laughed, his hand reaching out to pick off a piece of the actually cake for himself. He hummed to himself, muttering under his breath about telling the guys on the forums to check this out. You snorted, was all that all he was thinking about? People he only knew through the internet? He was so lame, it was cute.

“What does your drink taste like?” You asked, now suddenly curious of the cup he held in his hand. His eyes widened as you reached out to grab it from him, jerking his arm away from you. You frowned, reaching out further for it, only to have him pull it further away from you. This continued until you were practically on top of him, yet he was still just barely able to hold it out of your reach.

“Levi,” you whined, sprawling yourself on top of him as you tried to reach for his drink. “Let me have a taste!”

“No way! That’d be like, an indirect kiss or something!” He protested. At his words, you practically deadpanned, staring him right in the face. No longer reaching for the drink, you let your hands fall to his chest as you continued staring at him. You watched as very noticeable blush dusted his cheeks a bright red colour, as well as the tips of his ears.

“What? Quit staring at me like that!” He pouted, turning his face away from you in an attempt to cover his quickly darkening blush. You nudged his chin with your hand, forcing his gaze back onto you. You stared down at him until he finally met your eyes again, a pout on his lips. God, when he looked like this you could have sworn, he was the Avatar of Lust, not the Avatar of Envy.

“You’re so worried about an indirect kiss, does that mean you’ve never actually kissed someone, Levi?” You asked quietly, leaning down closer to the demon underneath you, watching him squirm in panic at your question. He refused to meet your eyes, the colour on his ears darkening more than you ever thought possible. Although, seeing as you were in the realm of demons, you supposed anything could be possible now.

“Quit it…” Leviathan muttered sheepishly, his bottom lip jutting out more and more. Moving your hand from his chin, you slide it up the side of his face and into his hair. Just like his older brother, Leviathan was weak to having his head rubbed and hair played with.

“I’ll stop if you want me to, Levi. I won’t use the pact to make you stay if you don’t want to.” You offered, backing off slightly and getting ready to remove yourself from him. He stopped you, however, his hands shyly resting on your hips to keep you in place. He refused to meet your gaze, but you could tell by the way his fingers dug into you slightly that he didn’t want you to leave.

“Tell me what you want, Levi.” You teased, using the hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair to trace the side of his face. The embarrassed glare he shot at you was so adorable, you almost cooed at him like a child, but you knew that would only ruin the mood. You slowly dragged your hand from his cheeks to his lips, using your thumb to pull at his bottom lip slightly. The noise that left his mouth, similar to that of a kitten, was adorable to say the least, and you could feel yourself swooning at his cuteness.

“Levi, you’re so cute.” You whispered, leaning down to ever so slightly brush your lips against his, watching in amusement as he stretched to fully connect your lips with his. You moved to brush your lips against his again, but right before you could, you swerved to the left slightly. Grabbing his once discarded milk tea and bringing the straw to your lips, you took a sip before scowling at the taste. You assumed it was probably because of the weird, slimy texture of the Bufo eggs, but something about it was off-putting.

From underneath you, Leviathan groaned, frowning up at you. You feigned innocence, tilting your head to the side as if to ask did I do something wrong? Before you could react to anything, Levi’s hands that were once on your waist moved to cup your cheeks in the blink of an eye. He then, suddenly feeling bold you assumed, brought your lips to his forcefully. The kiss was awkward, clearly showing his inexperience, but it made it more endearing to you.

Leviathan, the socially awkward, shut it nerd, was willingly giving you, a human, his first kiss. This was the best day of your life, really. You sure hoped Levi was enjoying it as much as you were, if not you were sure the situation would quickly become awkward. You definitely didn’t want this to ruin the friendship you had with him, and his brothers as well.

Demons, as you just found out, could hold their breath much longer than humans. When you pulled away from him, he was nowhere near as out of breath as you were, but you could probably blame that on your own excitement and the way he kissed you without warning. You weren’t complaining, though, you liked the bolder, confident side of the normally awkward and sheepish demon.

Leviathan frowned up at you, obviously upset that you pulled away when he wasn’t finished. You rolled your eyes at him, poking his cheek lightly as he tried to pull you back down to him. You rolled off of him, curling into his side. He sighed, wrapping one arm around you as his other grabbed his previously discarded drink. You didn’t realize when you had let go of it, more than likely sometime when he was kissing you.

“Weren’t we supposed to be playing games?” You asked, peering up at him from under your lashes. He glanced down at you, a hint of a smile on his face as he shook his head at you.

“We were, but you seemed more interested in stealing my drink from me. Can’t believe I let a normie like you kiss me.” He replied, setting his drink down of his nightstand to grab his phone. You watched as he loaded up a website, one you certainly didn’t recognize, and began furiously typing on his phone. You snorted at his response, batting him lightly on the chest.

“Oh please, Levi, you’re the one that kissed me. You’re so cute when you’re confident, by the way.” Levi’s typing slowed to a stop at your words, his cheeks flaring to life once again. He refused to look at you, his eyes staying focused on his phone screen as he tried to finish what he was typing.

“Whatever, it’s not my fault you teased me like that.” He spoke, trying to sound as confident as possible, although you knew he was freaking out on the inside. He blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, the arm he had wrapped around you tightening slightly. He was embarrassed for sure, but you found it all the cuter.

Peeking at his phone, you caught a brief glance of what Levi was typing and had to suppress a laugh.

You guys aren’t gonna believe but totally just kissed a super cute waifu! LMAO!

You didn’t know what a “waifu” was or why it was a “LMAO” moment, but it didn’t really bother you.

Leviathan really was the cutest.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me leviathan #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #cross posted from ao3!#if you enjoyed this please feel free to send in a request!

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themattgirl · 4 years

Note

Hii!!! Idk if ur taking requests but if u r can u do one where the reader is like really sick or injured and Harry takes care of her??? And u can make a scenario outta that...Like eternal fluff??

Notes: Harry and Y/N are a couple, but they don’t live together. Y/N’s stepfather is an alcoholic who tends to violence when drunk. It’s not the first time he hurts her, but it’s the first time for Harry to know&see it.

Harry was woken by the loud ringing of the doorbell. Instead of getting out of bed to open it, he decides to ignore it and close his eyes again. He tries to fall back asleep, but the ringing just won’t stop. He stretches an arm out to take his phone from the nightstand, presses the home button and sighs as he sees what time it is.

Who the hell is on the door at fucking two in the morning, he thinks as he eventually gets up and strolls to the front door, because it might be important if someone bothers to make the way to him at this hour.

“Y/N?” Harry is surprised as he looks at the person standing there, “What are you doing here?”

He eyes her top to toe, “What happened? Wait, come in first.” He gently wraps his fingers around his girlfriend’s wrist, pulling her into the house, across the corridor and up the stairs until they reach the bathroom. He makes her sit down on the edge of the bathtub and kneels down in front of her after taking out the first aid kit and placing it on the floor next to him.

“What’s got you bleeding like this, huh?” he asks as he takes out everything he needs. When he doesn’t receive an answer to his question he looks up at her. Her face clearly reveals that she’s not ready to talk yet, so he says, “I’ll take care of you first, then you tell me, yeah?”

Not waiting for a response he takes the antiseptic and warns her that “it might burn a little” before he cleans the wound on her forearm. Y/N hisses at the stinging pain, so Harry blows cold air on it making it less hurtful for her. “Sorry, but it needs to be clean. Bacteria and all that.” he explains as if Y/N had complained about it. He continues wiping the blood away, being particularly gentle near the injury itself.

“I’m almost done,” he keeps telling her in attempt to ease her, “You’re doing great, holding so still f’me. It’ll be over before you know it. Just don’t look at it, look at me. You can play with my hair with your other hand. I know you like that, do it.”

Y/N feels like a little child because of his words, but does as he says nonetheless. And it helps, it really does. Wrapping a curl around her finger and letting it go again to see it jump back into place makes her pay less attention to the pain and focusing on something way better instead.

“See? That was it,” he tells her and throws the bloodied cotton into the bin. “Now I just have to bandage it. Hold your arm up like this, would you?” he positions it so that he can easily do the job.

Harry uses his soft and soothing voice as he speaks - the one he uses when he talks to little kids - making it impossible for Y/N not to act like one. She just nods with big eyes looking down at him.

“Good girl,” he smiles at her and puts a plaster over the scar and begins to roll the bandage around her arm.

Once he has finished the task, he places a little peck onto the covered wound and stands up. He puts everything back in place and takes Y/N’s hands in his, indicating her to get on her feet too, and so she does.

“Now we’ll take you to bed and you can talk if you want.”

As they snuggle up under the thick covers - Y/N pressed to his chest - she finally finds her words again.

“I actually didn’t come here for you to take care of my arm, Harry,” she tells him with a quiet voice.

As much as Harry wants to give her the time she needs, he wants to know “What happened?” much more.

“I came here to ask you something,” she ignores his question, but Harry didn’t really mind because now he’s curious.

“Ask me, then.”

Y/N draws a little heart on his chest with her finger before she speaks, “Can I move in here?”

This has him surprised, definitely. They had talked about it a while ago. Harry had suggested it, but Y/N wanted to stay with her diseased mother and her stepfather. Well, actually just her mother, but they came in double pack and she couldn’t do anything about it. Y/N never really liked him, she thought he radiates bad energy, but she tried to at least be kind to him, even though he wasn’t. But now it’s just disgusting to live with him and honestly, she doesn’t know why she’s still there even after her mother had passed away two weeks ago.

“Yeah, of course! Definitely, I’d love that. But how come the change of mind?” Harry wonders.

“There’s nothing holding me there now that my mom is–“ she is cut off by him and she’s glad about it, even though she usually hates being interrupted. This time, it was more than okay.

“Yes, right. You can definitely move in. We can get your stuff in the next few days.”

“Uhm, yeah. . . Actually, I don’t want to go back there anymore,” she says, still tracing up and down his chest and not looking at him.

“Oh. Did something happen? Wait– The scar is from your stepdad, right?” Harry didn’t need a confirmation before asking the next question, “What did he do?”

Before she can change her mind, Y/N tells him what happened. “He was drunk again and saying really not-nice things about mom. You know I can always control my temper, but not when it’s about her. Especially not now. So I kind of yelled at him, and I was very rude. Then he took an empty beer bottle and hit me with it and it broke at some point. But let’s not talk about that right now. So, can you pick–” she tries to change the topic, but was immediately interrupted by Harry. Again. This time, she didn’t like it, but she still let him speak.

“Woah, no, wait. He hit you more than once? So your arm’s not the only part of your body that’s injured,“ he says it more like a conclusion than a question.

“It’s not that bad, really. It’s just–“

“Show me!” Harry interrupts Y/N. This seems to be the new type of conversation they’re gonna have.

“Baby, it’s nothing.” She hopes the nickname will do better than the poor argument.

Harry, though, is not so easily soothed - at least not if it’s about his girl’s health - and pulls her up and onto his lap, making her straddle him. He lifts her shirt up and over her head, revealing skin covered in blue and purple. Harry gasps in shock at the sight and a quiet Oh my God escapes his mouth as he realises something. “That’s why you never wanted to take your shirt off when we had sex.”

He starts running his fingertips gently from one bruise to the other. To the other. At first he thinks You should’ve told me and Why didn’t you tell me? but it quickly changed into “I’m so stupid. I should’ve asked you about it. I should’ve known something was wrong. As a good boyfriend, I mean. But maybe I’m not. God, how didn’t I see you were suffering so much? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I–“

Harry wanted to ask her how she wants to move in with him, the person that can’t even protect her like a proper boyfriend would. But the selfish part of him - the part that wanted to have her by his side, all to himself, even though he isn’t the best boyfriend she could’ve chosen, he’d try to be – was bigger and stopped him from doing it. He was afraid if he’d ask she’d change her mind and he would have to continue living in this big house all alone. And maybe even in this big world, if she was to break up with him.

“Hey, hey, no. Stop. Don’t blame yourself for something that a cruel person did and a coward didn’t tell. This is absolutely not your fault and I will not let you call my boyfriend stupid. I did everything to hide it from you, you could’ve never figured it out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she hesitates before letting out the next words, “I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” he asks incredulously. “You know what’s embarrassing? A man that can’t control himself to the point where he hurts innocent girls, that’s embarrassing.”

Harry’s anger starts to grow bigger and bigger until Y/N’s little delicate hands cup his face tenderly, thumbs softly stroking his cheek. Y/N really knows how to take care of Harry’s feelings and control them.

“Listen, baby. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, I’m done with this. All I want is to be with you. I don’t want to worry about him, I wanna worry about where to fit all my stuff. And which side of the bed is gonna be mine. And how early I have to wake up so I can make you proper breakfast because I know you never do that on your own. Can we please just concentrate on that kinda stuff? No more negativity, yes?”

Harry was so furious about his girlfriend’s stepfather, still is. But he has to admit, hearing those words from Y/N makes the butterflies in his chest go wild. He tries to suppress it - no I’m angry! - but a smile takes over his face, replacing the frown. To hide it he takes one of her hands that are still resting on his cheeks in his to move it closer to his mouth so he can press a kiss on her knuckles. “No more negativity,” he agrees with Y/N.

For a few minutes they just stay like this. Y/N on Harry’s lap, looking into each other’s eyes. The only sound in the room are their steady breaths that started matching.

“So. . .,” Y/N stretches the word. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Harry needs no more than that to have his hands on her back, pulling her as close as possible, chests pressing against each other as he connects his lips with hers. First her upper lip, then the bottom, sucking and biting it until his tongue finally finds hers.

•

“Did I wake you?” Y/N asks Harry half an hour later.

They took their previous position in again. Lying in the middle of the bed, Y/N’s head resting on Harry’s chest, Harry’s arms wrapped around his Y/N. This time, naked.

“No, don’t worry about it, baby,” Harry lies. Y/N would’ve believed him, if only she didn’t know him so well.

“Of course I did.” She gives him a light slap on the chest.

Harry chuckles. Y/N feels it under her head, how his chest moves. “Why do you ask if you already know the answer?”

“I was gonna apologies if you would’ve said yes.”

“Apologies then!”

Y/N lifts her head a bit so she can face Harry. “You didn’t say yes, so no.”

“What if I wasn’t lying? Maybe I wasn’t asleep.”

“Huh,” Y/N rises an eyebrow. “What would you possibly be doing at 2 am, hm?”

“Masturbating.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she hits him again, this time a little harder. “Harry!”

“What?” Harry asks amused.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Oh, don’t you act all innocent now when you literally just led us to sex half an hour ago.”

Y/N buries her face in the crook of Harry’s neck to hide her rosy cheeks of embarrassment. “Stop,” she stretches the word.

Harry laughs. He finds it truly endearing how shy Y/N gets whenever he picks at her naughtiness. How adorable, he thinks.

Actually, to Harry everything Y/N does - if it’s dancing in the kitchen with just his t-shirt on or making a phone call or even just sleeping - is adorable. Even when they’re watching a movie together and Y/N is so concentrated while staring at the screen, Harry just can’t take his eyes off of her. Sometimes he wonders what he ever did in his whole life that was so good that God thinks he deserves having her as his girlfriend, or in his surroundings at all. Especially, when he made a mistake that he was well aware of.

“Did you?” Y/N asks quietly and pulls him out of his dreaming.

“What?” Harry asks back in confusion, already having forgotten what they were talking about from all his thinking of how much of a blessing his girlfriend actually is.

“Masturbate, I mean,” she clarifies even quieter so that it’s harder for Harry to hear even though she speaks right below his ear. He has to remember what their conversation was about to make out what she just said.

Eventually, it comes back to his mind and he laughs a little. Can she be any cuter? “No,” he answers her question.

“Oh,” is all she lets out, sounding a little. . . disappointed?

Yes, obviously she can be cuter.

“Why’re you so sad about it?” Harry teases, knowing damn well what he is doing to Y/N.

“‘M not!” she denies a little too loud to sound honest.

“Yes, you are. You wanted me to say yes so you can imagine me lying in bed stroking myself. Or,” his eyes widen as realisation hits him, “you already did imagine it.”

Instead of saying something back, Y/N starts kissing Harry’s neck, even nibbling a little.

“Y/N (Y/M/N) Y/L/N! When did you become so dirty-minded?” he asks in surprise, positive surprise.

“Since you started fucking it into me,” she whispers into his ear and gently bites down on his earlobe.

Oh my God. Harry’s mouth is wide open. He is shocked and so turned on. He’s never seen her like this. And if Y/N is honest, she is quite surprised herself.

“That’s so hot,” Harry quietly says more to himself, but Y/N hears it and smirks before sucking a love bite below his ear.

“We just had sex,” he reminds her, already short of breath.

“Well, I could go for one more round. Or ten, you don’t?”

Not waiting for his response, she moves her hand down his chest, over his defined stomach and grabs his half-hard dick.

“Of course.”

“Then kiss me, you fool!”

Harry doesn’t need to hear that twice, so he grabs her face and places his lips on hers.

Y/N runs her thumb over the slit of his cock, making his dick twitch.

“Should maturbate more often if it gets you like this,” he says before reconnecting their lips.

“Don’t need to. I live here now,” she speaks in between kisses. “You can just fuck me instead.”

“Oh, fuck,” Harry whispers and has her straddling him in just seconds.

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muwur · 4 years

Note

idk if this counts as an emergency or comfort request but ive been havin a REAL bad body image week nsnnnsnnnsnn could i maybe request headcanons for either oikawa or kuroo (u can pick if u wanna) with an s/o who is rlly self conscious about being chubby/has a really hard time with food and mayb feels like worthless because theyre not the ideal body type? idk sorry if thats dumb aaaah thank u sm if u choose to do this

self-love

♡ scenarios ♡ for oikawa and kuroo

❧ gn reader

✎ 3.7k words

a/n: hey hun, im sorry to hear you’ve been having a rough time lately. this kind of request actually rlly hits close to home, and if u ever need anything, ur mor than welcome to reach out to me :) i can also help look for resources for help, anything really. this goes for all y’all! i dont want none y’all to feel alone with anything ur going thru cuz we’re in this together! and no need to thank me, the pleasure is mine luv 🥰💕 nothing about this is dumb, ur feelings are valid. i hope this will bring you n many others some comfort. also,, FUCK BODY STANDARDS MAKIN US BELIEVE THERE’S AN IDEAL TYPE BC THERE IS NONE N Y’ALL R BEAUTIFUL N IF U DUN THINK SO I WILL COME OVER DER,,, ok im done 🥰🥰 (more notes at the bottom of this, i talk a lot n think its important, didnt wanna add it up here bc it was too long lolol) tw: mentions of bad body and implies disordered eating behaviors

oikawa

♡ Oikawa was pretty keen, so when he observed a gradual shift in your behavior, he definitely took notice

♡ One day when you showed up to lunchtime empty-handed and sat with your two friends, casually chatting, Oikawa and Iwaizumi gave you a questioning look

♡ “Where’s your lunch, y/n?” Oikawa asked

♡ “Oh, I, uh, ate it already, actually.”

♡ Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and offered you some of his, but you declined, thanking him and stating you were already full

♡ Later that day in class, however, Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the absence of your boxed lunch container in your unzipped backpack

♡ The next day, you came empty-handed again, blaming it on your forgetfulness during your rush to get to school

♡ However, it became a normal occurrence over time, and while you seemed fine, uneasiness began to prick inside Oikawa’s stomach

♡ Those smiles you wore appeared fragile, and the laughter that rumbled from your throat felt restrained

♡ You seemed more tired and unfocused than usual

♡ Preoccupied, withdrawn, and distant

♡ He could sense something was bothering you, no matter how much you may (or may not) have tried to hide it

♡ On his way to school one morning, he made sure to stop by a convenience store to pick one of your favorite snacks, thinking it was a simple gesture to brighten up the somber aura he’s been detecting from you

♡ “I have a surprise for you, y/n~” Oikawa announced with excitement, rummaging through his bag to pull out the snack and show it to you. “Look, it’s your favorite!”

♡ You could only offer him an uneasy smile, “Oh, you shouldn’t have...” You really shouldn’t have...

♡ When he noticed the tension in your body and expression, a frown appeared on his lips

♡ “Y/n? Is something wrong?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder but you swiftly flinched away

♡ ”I’m fine..!”

♡ Surprised at your sudden movement and outburst, you both felt a split second of apprehension crackle in the air before you started to gather your items in a rush

♡ Sighing, you repeated, “I’m fine.”

♡ He wasn’t sure whether you were speaking to him or yourself

♡ “Thanks for the snack, but I’ll pass. Have it for me. You need it more, anyways; you have volleyball practice. I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa,” you offered him a solemn smile and left before he could even reply

♡ Some time had passed before he could finally get you to open up to him

♡ And when you did, it crushed his heart to see how much your insecurities broke you

♡ It hurt to hear how low you thought about yourself; how you couldn’t see the beauty in your being; how you deemed food, your body, and yourself as your worst enemies

♡ Thus bringing you to the conclusion that maybe you’d be happy and like yourself if you could just give up that midday snack or your school lunch

♡ Even raincheck a cafe date you were supposed to have together

♡ Maybe also skip dinner, sometimes breakfast the next morning as well

♡ You could manage on just water

♡ Little sacrifices to shed some weight, feel better, and get closer to your ideal body goals

♡ You admitted, however, to questioning whether any of it was worth it

♡ The constant states of hunger, pain, and defeat you lived in

♡ Only to feel as though you were getting nowhere

♡ Oikawa was well aware of today’s beauty standards. I mean, he himself was often praised for his natural charm and beauty

♡ And you felt you could never reach that ideal

♡ “Oikawa, you’re too good for me.”

♡ His eyebrows knitted in concern as he lifted his right hand to caress your cheek softly. “And why do you say that?”

♡ Tears threatened to prick at your eyes. All you could was stare at the ground in silent shame

♡ When you still said nothing, he leaned in closer, his brown gaze softly pleading

♡ “Y/n, look at me.”

♡ When your eyes flickered up to meet his own, Oikawa asked, “You know I love you, right?”

♡ His question was met with a meek, “Yes.”

♡ From your clouded glaze, he could tell that you had a hard time believing in your own response

♡ “Do you know why?”

♡ But before you could respond, he was already answering his own question

♡ “Well...” he began, glancing up in thought and wearing a small smile

♡ “Something about you makes me want to be by your side. I love to see your smiles and hear your laughter, but I always want to be there to hold you when you’re crying and in pain.”

♡ “You’re supportive. You understand what I need, and I don’t always have to explain myself to you. You take your time with me and make me feel like I can be myself. Not many people have stuck around to actually get to know me. Because of that, you’ve never failed to make my day a little better with just your presence.”

♡ “You’re strong and caring. I can rely on you to have my back, and I hope I provide that same comfort to you as well.”

♡ “I love being able to lazy around with you or go on adventures and discover something new. It’s comfortable and exciting at the same time.”

♡ “Your hands feel like they were made to hold mine.”

♡ He reached down to squeeze your hand gently

♡ “Kissing you makes me forget about everything else on my mind. I can just live in the present with you.”

♡ He moved close and gave you a peck above your eyebrow

♡ “You make me want to work hard and be a better person. You help motivate me to try my best, and you never give up on me. Why would I ever give up on you?”

♡ “I learn something new with you everyday. Like right now, I realize that I’ve never met someone who could so easily make my heart race as they could make my heart break.”

♡ “When I look at you, all I can think about is how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life as a partner and one of my best friends. Nobody else could fill the gaps within me the same way you do.”

♡ Leaning over to brush his lips against your forehead, he muttered, “I’m going to love every part of you, inside and out. You’re already my ideal. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I could go on about every detail on why I feel so strongly for you, but I’m here to show you everything there is to appreciate about yourself because you’re worth every ounce of care and effort. And if you can’t see it in yourself right now, I’ll love you more than enough for the both of us until you learn to love yourself. I’m here to help.”

♡ And after crying out your tears into his shoulder as he held you close and rubbed your back, you both went to his house to relax and have some dinner

♡ He was patient with you, taking into account how having a meal may have made you feel anxious

♡ It was something small and simple that you two agreed to prepare and share, after some tender coaxing from Oikawa

♡ He later made a list in his journal about tips to keep in mind:

♡ ‘Check up on y/n often to see how they’re feeling’

♡ ‘Encourage them to eat meals/snacks. Don’t be too pushy, but be patient. Try to have eat with them when you can!’

♡ ‘Remind them they don’t have to earn the right to eat, and that their body doesn’t define their worth‘

♡ ‘Look into some mindfulness techniques!’

♡ ‘Don’t overvalue physical appearance. Also focus on all the other redeeming qualities y/n has! But of course I’m always gonna tell them they look cutee--’

♡ True to his word, he remained understanding

♡ He’s there to listen to you, or to sit with you in comforting silence

♡ During lunch he would share his food with you, reassuring you that it wasn’t something you had to avoid

♡ Some days he succeeds in encouraging you to share a milk bun or your favorite snack with him

♡ And on days you really didn’t feel like it, he never forces anything onto you and instead made sure you at least hydrated

♡ Oikawa spends some time doing research and gathering tips on how to help you

♡ Always reminds you of your worth and how you bring out the best in him

♡ He’ll never hold it against you if you ever become hostile, irritated, or in denial. He knows you’re hurting and doesn’t take it personally

♡ Sends you cute memes with all those emoji hearts

♡ Also some food puns (Oikawa: “I’m soy into you. Please brie mine. We are mint to be. I ap-peach-iate you. You got a pizza my heart. Olive you--” ; You: *puts a hand over his mouth* ; Oikawa: 🥺 ; You: “...olive you, too”)

♡ Always ready to give up what he’s doing to make sure you’re okay

♡ Will stay up with you late at night to talk on the phone

♡ Reminds you you’re beautiful at least 8 times a day

♡ If y’all ever go shopping and you try things on in the fitting room,, Oikawa would be your #1 hype man

♡ One time you tried something on, and you were almost too ashamed to step out and show him

♡ But when you did, you were met with his surprise and excitement

♡ “dfghjklkuyfuh” was all you could process from his incoherent speech before he insisted on treating you by purchasing it for you (Oikawa: “Can you wear this for me, like, everyday?” ; You: *weird look* “Why are you like this??” you love it tho--)

♡ Gushes internally over how cute you are during your movie + cuddle sessions, mostly pays attention to you rather than the movie

♡ Mid-movie be like:

♡ Oikawa: “So, uh, what’s happening again?

♡ You: -.- “You might as well google the whole synopsis instead of watching it”

♡ Oikawa: “...it’s not my fault you’re distracting, babe”

♡ Always politely excuses himself from his fangirls to get to you. Also reassures you he much prefers to be with you than anyone else and that you’re the best catch ;)) (You: “Oikawa, no” ; Oikawa: “y/n, yes”)

♡ Suggested doing some meditation together once

♡ You listened to a recording and you sat side by side on a mat, but Oikawa thought the person’s voice sounded funny so he had a hard time focusing

♡ But it ended with y’all laughing and making jokes as he lay his lead on your lap and you played with his hair

♡ Y’all get better at it tho

♡ Cooking dates! To try to show you that food isn’t an enemy and can bring people together :)

♡ Puts music on so y’all can jam together (Oikawa: “Oh my gosh, y/n, this is my favorite song, you’re not even rEADY to see me perform-- ; You: “Oikawa, t-the food! It’s burning!!”)

♡ Cooking dates also show that you should never leave the stove unattended

♡ Every once in a while he suggests seeking professional help. He wishes he could take away your pain and help you all his own, but he knows this is more complicated and required outside help, too

♡ Has help resources READY

♡ As well as small snacks like granola bars for you if you ever feel faint

♡ He doesn’t hesitate to confront you when he feels it’s necessary and he’s worried about your habits

♡ He handles things well, though, and often convinces you to take care of yourself more, even though he’s there to look after you

♡ Has made it his mission to help you win against your battle with insecurities

♡ Overall, he’s very caring and empathetic, hoping one day you’ll see yourself the way he sees you 💖 : strong, amazing, breathtaking, & perfectly imperfect

kuroo

♡ Occasionally, you would think about the day you broke down in front of him

♡ Your body racked with repressed whimpers as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes and describe the recent state of your mind through choked sobs

♡ Lately, your thoughts were being especially relentless in making you feel miserable

♡ Oftentimes you’d be able to shove the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and carry on your day as usual, expertly acting as though everything in your life was going smoothly

♡ However, you found yourself fighting a losing battle against your own conscious, heavily preoccupied with thoughts of your own worthlessness

♡ And so you tried to cope

♡ But you were painfully aware of everything you felt was wrong with you

♡ You felt uncomfortable in your skin

♡ Every time you passed by your own reflection, you couldn’t help but mentally recoil at the image looking back at you

♡ Your clothes didn’t fit right

♡ Even when you opted for baggy clothes, you felt like you were taking up all the space in them

♡ Maybe it was the weight gain. You could see and feel it in your face, your arms, your stomach, your legs... everywhere

♡ You just wanted to hide away your shame

♡ Perhaps it was the dessert you allowed yourself to eat the other day. Foolish of you to think then that you wouldn’t regret it as much as you did afterwards

♡ As a consequence of those foolish actions, you made mental notes about anything and everything you ate. What it was, how much of it you had, etc

♡ Trying to restrict so that maybe you would lose some weight and come to like how you look

♡ Your obsessive thoughts of food and weight overtook your mind like a dark cloud

♡ Your favorite foods, which before would never fail to brighten your mood, taunted you with shame and guilt

♡ Exercise? Sometimes it was an activity you genuinely enjoyed. Other times, a chore that made you feel shitty or numb and reinforced your unhealthy desire to lose

♡ And you sometimes found yourself crying over your last meal, one you know you didn’t need. One you didn’t deserve

♡ And each time you released the reins on your self-control, you felt pathetic going against the vow you made to yourself

♡ At this rate, you’d never be beautiful or be happy with yourself

-You’d remain unworthy, fat, disgusting--

-But before you could continue, your story was cut off by the impact of Kuroo’s embrace

-Your surprise silenced your sobs, and you could only stare wide-eyed at the space in front of you as you felt his arms squeeze tightly around your frame

-You both sat there for a few moments on your knees, with your back lightly leaning against a wall

- “I’m sorry for the pain you’re experiencing,” he begins softly. “Thank you for sharing with me. It must’ve taken a lot for you to do that.”

-He was right. It was your first time reaching out to another person about this. It was the last thing you thought you would’ve done today

- “I want to let you know that you shouldn’t be ashamed for feeling this way. Reaching out is important and brings you the help you need to get better. I know you might not want help right now or think that these thoughts and behaviors are a problem. However, telling me about all this shows that some part of you is recognizing there’s something wrong and you can’t always handle it on your own.”

-There were many reasons you kept this to yourself. You didn’t want to bother anyone else. Your problems seemed so trivial. You worried saying them aloud would confirm your beliefs. You were scared people would see you differently. You--

-The intrusive thoughts never failed to make you feel ashamed

-However, it was oddly comforting to release the pent up emotions. To know you didn’t have to bottle up this burden anymore, and that you weren’t alone

-You were about to murmur in response when,

- “Also, you’re an idiot, y/n.”

- “Wow, thanks, as if I don’t already think that about myself,” you bit back in response

-You were about to shove him away just when he released his grip around your body and placed his hands on your shoulders

-His eyes shone with determination and a faint, inviting smile spread on his lips

- “You are the one of the single most important things in my life. I just mean you’re an idiot in the sense that you’re overevaluating one aspect to define your whole self. You’ve forgotten about all your other redeeming qualities that contribute to who you are.”

♡ “Your size, weight, shape; none of that matters. What matters is your health and happiness. Neglecting yourself in order to reach an ‘ideal’ that you’ve concluded is the answer to your self-worth is only bringing you farther away from what you truly want.”

♡ “I don’t mean to downplay any of your emotions or how significant this is to you. Your first step was to put your trust into someone else about this. That’s done. Now, I’m here to help you undergo self-evaluation and serve as encouragement on your journey to self-love and acceptance.”

♡ “I also want to remind you progress is not linear. There will be times when things are harder, and that’s okay; it’s part of the process. If you’re open to getting better in the future, I’m sure as hell going to be there every step of the way.”

♡ And with a soft peck to the forehead and another hug, he nuzzled into your neck and muttered, “I love you. And I want you to love yourself. So, please, allow me to help you through this and I guarantee that by the end of it all, it’ll have been so worth it.”

♡ Unsure what to say, you gripped his jacket tighter, buried your head in his shoulder, and muttered, “Thank you.”

♡ While the negative feelings about yourself remained afterward, you were relieved that your boyfriend was supportive and calm

♡ He treated you the same as always, teasing you over dumb things while making you feel like you stood among the highest peaks on Earth

♡ The day after, he had shown up to your house, weary-eyed and carrying his backpack

♡ “Kuroo? Why are you here? Also, why do you look so tired??”

♡ He stepped into your house with a yawn. He stretched his arms, then reached for his bag and whipped out his laptop

♡ “I stayed up a bit last night to do some research, babe! I also learned a lot about nutrition and molecular gastronomy, so I could help you come up with a meal plan that you’re okay with!”

♡ You were touched he was educating himself on how to help you

♡ But you drew the line at the science jokes-- (Kuroo: “You know you love them.” ; You: “‘Na’ I don’t.” ; Kuroo: :ooo “Did you just-- Marry me.”) (Na = sodium lol)

♡ His nutritional research helped you to learn the contents of food beyond calories; mans explains the vitamins, nutrients, amino acids, etc in them that you need and their benefits

♡ “Trout, avocados, and almonds have vitamin E, which is good for your skin! Oh, and don’t get me started on bananas. Yes, they have carbs (which your body needs anyway as a source of energy!), but POTASSIUM?? Shit’s gonna regulate your fluid balance, maintain heart health, stimulate normal muscle function, AND help your brain to communicate with the rest of your body!”

♡ ALSO cooking dates; just as chaotic (“Aw mannn, the egg exploded all over the microwave!” dont ask y it was being microwaved)

♡ Over time, he’s taken mental notes about your thoughts, feelings, triggers, etc

♡ He’s quick to pick up on your mood and will always ask you how you’re doing

♡ Tries to do something special for you on days you’re especially not feeling well, like taking you on a spontaneous date! (You: “Do you know how to ice skate?” ; Kuroo: “Uhh,,, after today, I will hopefully”)

♡ But will also opt for staying in with you and cuddling when you don’t want to go out (Kuroo: “I heard this movie is soooo bad! ...wanna watch it?”)

♡ Invited you to the beach with his team during the first week of summer

♡ You were unsure about this, since that meant going out in public, potentially with minimal clothing

♡ You initially sat on a beach towel under an umbrella, wearing the security of a T-shirt. He’d been aware of how you felt ever since he asked you to come, so he would sit with you and link an arm around your shoulder

♡ “I’m lucky I get to spend this day with you,” he’d say. “You look gorgeous. You always do. Now, I wanna see you smile and have fun. Let’s go take a dip, yeah?” He offered his hand, which you shyly took, and pulled you up

♡ Then immediately picked you up and started running to the water to get you soaking wet, and you were forced to ditch the heavy, waterlogged shirt

♡ However, you silently thanked him for his sweet words, making you feel secure enough to just forget your worries and enjoy the warm sun and cool water

♡ He also tries his best to lessen your anxieties over food and often shares/eats meals with you

♡ Reminds you everyday how much you’re worth to him and that there’s nothing about you that needs to change

♡ This sweet, protective, n smart boi will treat you how you deserve. It’s a guarantee he’ll be there through thick and thin, and he’s excited for the day you realize you’re just as amazing as he knows you are 💕

a/n: oop this was rlly long lol mb, i just may or may not personally know a bit about this so i went oFF

also neded to some som silly n fluff bc we all need dat

also, these r like kinda hc’s ?? but also a deconstructed oneshot/scenario?? bc they provide some rly brief bg story? one from more of the character perspective while the other more on y/n before we get to the hc’s about how he treats y/n. how everyone struggles w body image is different n i wanted to portray a bit of what it felt like and how it could manifest in ppl’s behaviors/thoughts. however, this is not to say that everyone feels exactly like this. what i wrote only represents a fraction of it all.

by providing some sort of bg i hope im not making u feel like this isnt u or that u cant relate, pls lmk if i need to change anything to make it right for u <3 ok now im actually done sry long author’s note rfguhofe this is just rlly important to me y’all , stay safe n take care, much luv for u <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader angst #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa tooru #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu x reader fluff #tw

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