#i felt multiple pangs in my chest as i wrote this

[neteyamyawne]

Same anon with the two Jake x Reader x Neytiri ideas for the 1st one I like that you did where quaritch had the reader and they saved the reader and thats how they kinda build back their relationship and for the 2 nd one where reader dies I imagined reader being lo’ak and tuk’s mama and if you wanted to you could include her funeral. Sorry I didn’t add this earlier my thoughts were kinda scrabbled

A/n : this is a lot of angst ive written, plus I've cried multiple times writing this 🙂 idk I'm just an emotional fool, anyways i hope y'all like it, i loved these requests.

Kxitx ✦

Pairing : Jake x reader x Neytiri

Summary : 2. Of request and above request

Song : space song

Angst ✦

❈ Warning : major death, angst, crying, mourning, self blaming, blood, hurt not comfort etc lmk if more.

❈ Word count : 3.1k proof read

❈ Note : idk why I wrote something like this, like it hurts me to even read it also it's like a half fic, half headcanon 😂

"word" - dialogue

❈ Glossary : ma'itan - my son, ma'evi - my child, muntxate - female mate/wife, tiyawn - love, yawne - beloved.

You sank down under the water, your breath coming out short as a bright pain bloomed in your chest, Neteyam turned looking at you, both his and lo'ak's eyes widened at the blood pooling around you, you got above the surface, your face twisting in pain as you said "I'm- I'm shot" sinking below again but Lo'ak immediately pulled you on his ilu, Neteyam helped you settle on it, Tsireya was trailing behind as they made their way towards the stony island, you held onto lo'ak's hand as you spoke "ma' itan, i see you ma'evi" he shook his head in disbelief, not wanting to say goodbye just yet, making his ilu ride even faster than before, your eyelids feel heavy but you fought the urge to close them "mama, please don't close your eyes, we're nearly there, dad will know what to do! Please just keep your eyes open, please" his voice pleading, almost begging you, Neteyam was horrified as much as Lo'ak, he was hardly processing the fact, he couldn't imagine a world without you, reaching the island, Jake stood mortified at the sight of you bleeding, his two sons immediately hauling you over and he bent down to help them "careful watch her head, Watch her HeAd!" They gently laid you down, a fit of cough bubbled up in your chest, spitting out blood, Jake stilled, his heart sinking down and down per minute, he quickly got on your side, lifting your injured side looking at your back, There…. The exit wound. "shit, no" laying you back down, a hand on your cheek as you grabbed his wrist "ma'Jake, i-" he voice wavered as he spoke, tears lined his eyes "no, please, you can't" you smiled, giving him a reassuring pat even in your final moments the only thing on your mind was your family, your lungs constricting with the passing second, before you could say anything Neytiri landed near you, Lo'ak was putting pressure on your wound, chanting to eywa to keep you alive, Neteyam was trying not to cry while grabbing your hand but you knew, this was it, your time as come.

Neytiri sat down near your thigh, taking your hand from Neteyam, while he sat near your legs, Neytiri's heart dropping to her feet at your sight, tears almost already falling down her eyes, looking at Jake for information but he shook his head looking down, not being able to make eye contact with her, "No, no no no, please great mother" her voice was barely above a whisper, your felt a pang through your chest, you knew if you didn't speak now, you'd never get a chance to again, ever, with great difficulty you finally spoke "tell tuk, i love her, so so much, i love you too Lo'ak and 'teyam, I'm sorry i won't get to see you all grown u-" you coughed, more blood spilling out, your breaths puffing up, hastily grabbing onto Neytiri's and Jake's arm, your eyes Frantic as you spoke your final sentences "tell Kiri, I'll give her greetings to grace, take care of them for me, you all have been my whole world – Jake, tiri, you brou- brought the whole wor- world to me, my loves, I can't thank you enough — ma'Jake, ma'Neytiri, I se- see-" your hand slipped from their arms, the last of the exhale leaving your mouth, body going limp, eyes dilating, lips still frozen in forming the next word.

Neytiri's wailed sounded throughout the space as Jake leaned his head against yours, tears flowing down his cheeks, Lo'ak sat in shock, immovable, he didn't want to believe his mama is gone, forever, your hand still in his, Neteyam shook your leg lightly as if you'd wake up from this cruel slumber, spider watched from afar tears rolling down his own cheeks, Neytiri pulled your head against her chest, her cries shattering Jake's heart, your body was growing cold now, Jake had no choice but to get up, taking Neytiri with him, he still had his daughters to save, Neytiri looked at him with hollow eyes, nothing but sorrow filled in them, his throat constricted as he spoke "we have get our girls back, strong heart Ney, strong heart!" His voice broke in the end, but Neytiri turned around, climbing on her ikran as it roared taking off, Jake turned to take one last look at your body before walking away too.

Back at the rock after battle :

Jake :

He watched as your body laid still, not one moment, his mind numb, silent tears falling down his eyes but he did not bother to wipe them.

Holding your hand close to him, begging any god who'd listen to bring you back, to take him instead but just give you back to him.

He did not speak a word, silently taking in your features, remembering them for one last time.

He blamed himself for not being there to protect you, he made a promise to be there for you, to cherish you, but there you were, a promise so broken, a promise he failed to keep.

He quitely traced the freckles on your face, the ones that glowed so bright with your smile, the freckles he loved so much, the patterns reminding him if the constellations, he could stare at them for hours on end, but he only has a few minutes till it all disappears

Caressing your face, as memories of your laughter, giggles, frowns and pouts flooded his mind, it was torture to relive the memories.

Your smile of pure happiness when Lo'ak was born, even after hours of pain and exhaustion dawning over you, you held your son like he'd disappear if you didn't hold him tight enough, Jake could never forget that day either as you almost broke his wrist during the labor but he wasn't complaining as you endured much worse than that.

He let go of your hand, Missing the sensation immediately but stopped himself from grabbing it again, walking back towards the edge of the rock as he finally let the weight of your death crash down on him, breaking down, sobs wrecking his body, he let everything out.

Neytiri :

Her wails could be heard throughout the ocean as she held your head close to her chest again. Crying for her beloved mate, her loving muntxate, her mind wasn't ready to accept it.

Clutching you close, begging your corpse to speak just once but there was no response, cursing and begging eywa to give you back to her.

Your blood coated her body but she didn't care, she couldn't breathe between her sobs, couldn't let go of you, not like this, you promised her forever, now you left her nothing but memories, memories that were once so real now just mere thoughts.

She smiled at the thought of the first time she held tuk in her arms, they almost lost you that day too, tuk did come out but not without complications,you were under observation for more than five days, even Jake was shaken up.

She stared at the necklace you always wore around your neck, never once removing it, given by her, the first mating gift she made for you, Neytiri's heart breaking even more as it laid so lifeless, no longer filled from your love.

Holding your hand once again, the once soft and warm skin now felt cold and rough, bringing it to her cheek, letting the sensation of it seep deep within her, making herself remember it for good, never in her life she thought she'd be so unlucky to see this day.

Her cries not turning into mumbled sighs, leaning down, kissing your forehead for one last time, gathering enough courage to bid you the last goodbye.

With trembling hands she removed your song chord from your braid, the beads and trinkets woven into it, tinkled against each other, she passed a hand through your braids, remembering how you begged her to do your hair because 'she does it better' she'd laugh but your persuasion would win in the end

The beads in your hair seem dull now, no longer holding the meaning behind them, as if you took it with you, leaving behind just the meaningless pebbles and shells.

Neytiri closed her eyes, not even close to readied to let you go, it physically pained her to move on, but Jake pulled her back, to let your body be taken back to awa'atlu, her mind so engrossed in you she didn't even notice the metkayina warriors behind her.

Trying her best to keep the composure but failed when you were finally taken away from her.

Neteyam :

He was shaken to his core, you were his safe person, the one he could confess his deepest secret to and would not be judged for it.

Without you who'd listen to him? He listened to everyone but you were the only one who heard his problem intently, the only one who actually saw him, but you were gone, forever, so far away from him.

Tears wouldn't stop running down his face, even after he harshly wiped them off, to not show his weakness, they still slided down his face.

He sat near your feet, sniffling hard, wiping his nose as he sobbed for you, all his happy memories included you, there is no time in his life that he didn't spend without you.

He loved your hugs, when Jake used to be a little too hard, your hugs calmed him down, your words a soothing feeling as he used to sleep in your arms, maybe sometimes lo'ak snuggled in but the attention was always on him.

Who'd hug him now? Comfort him like you did? He was not ready for this, for you to go away so suddenly, he needed you, you were his rock, you grounded him, how could he be ready for something like this?

He lightly grazed his hand over your knee, wanting to wake up from this cruel nightmare, all hopes of you waking up vanishing slowly, as you laid there as if you were sleeping.

He got up, standing beside Jake as he pulled him in for a hug, not bearing to look back at you, eyes fixated on the ground as Neteyam sobbed in his father's arms, finally accepting the fact that you're gone forever.

Lo'ak :

He stared at your blood on his hands, not having the courage to face you, how could he live without you not by his side?

Sobs never came out, tears never fell down but his heart broke into a million pieces, too shocked to respond.

He bent down, connecting his forehead with yours as his voice was barely over a whisper "I'm sorry, mama, don't leave me like this, I need you with me, please, I'm so sorry" the words becoming softer and softer until they were barely heard.

He couldn't breathe properly, everything was crumbling down, you were his world, his mama, how was he supposed to live without you?

You were the one who saved him from Jake's scolding and Neytiri's glare, you were his safe space, his best friend, the person who would listen to his every banter, who would do that now?

He blamed himself for everything, if he didn't ask to save spider then you'd be still alive, alive beside him, hugging him, kissing his forehead like you always did, making sure if he was okay! But now he sat alone, inconsolable.

He sobbed finally as he couldn't take it anymore, finally as the barriers broke, Tsireya holding him tightly, he couldn't help but think that it should have been him, it should be him lying in your place, you deserved better than this.

He fell apart in Tsireya's arms, crying like he never did before, his wails so deep it rattled the ones sitting beside him, letting out everything but in its place now laid an empty void, filled with nothing but despair.

His mom is gone, he'll never have his favorite dish made by you, you'll never hold him in your arms when he is sad, you were gone, somewhere so far away that he couldn't reach.

Kiri :

Kiri sat with tuk in her arms, even if you weren't her biological mom, you treated her like your own, spoiling her with her favorite things every time she felt low, braiding her hair just how she liked, never once complaining if she gave you some attitude.

You'd accompany her everytime she visited Grace, never letting go of her hand when she watched the video logs again and again.

Always letting her know how loved she was, you were her mom too, just like Neytiri, your bond so unique.

You understood her connection with eywa, giving her guidance over how well she could maintain it.

If she felt like the day was just not good, she'd make a beeline to you even if it was middle of the night and wrap your arms around her without a word, Letting her know you're there for her.

Sitting by the edge her tears were uncontrollable, she hugged tuk tightly as memories flooded her mind but none seemed to comfort her right now.

Slowly, as there were no tears left to she'd, she stopped crying only relishing in your memories as she stared at you in your last moments.

Tuk :

She sat in her older sister's arms, not knowing what was happening, her mama was lying down, to her she was sleeping but ohh how she misunderstood it.

She struggled in her sister's arms, finally getting out, she made her way to you, sitting by your side, shaking your arm to wake you up but you never did.

When Jake saw her sitting beside you, he immediately picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her lower lip wobbling as she spoke "daddy, why isn't mama waking up?" he was left speechless, what was he supposed to say?

He said with as much as steadiness he muster "mama, is resting sweetheart, she is resting with eywa now, you'll see her again one day, now she's gonna sleep for a long while, she's tired you know?"

Tuk nodded but she knew something was wrong but her little mind couldn't process it, in that moment she just cried in her father's neck for a while before drifting off in her dreams.

The Funeral :

Your body was wrapped in the brown leather, pulling your limbs closer to your torso, as it laid in the raft that was pulled by an ilu guided by Jake, your hair beautifully done by Neytiri for the last time, the beads in your hair representing each of your family members, the whole village stood by watching as the sully's silently brought your body to the center, letting the raft float for a while, as Jake got down from the ilu and they circled around it, tuk gently touched your face floating beside Kiri, Lo'ak sniffed trying not to cry, Neteyam helped spider stay afloat, Neytiri wore your necklace, the one she gifted to you, the traditional metkayina attire draping over her head, her face twisting in pain as she looked at your peaceful features, Jake stared at your face taking you all in for the last time, the flower petals slipped into the sea water as the raft was dipped down, your body shifting down with it, slowly making you afloat, Jake and Neytiri took deep breaths, readying themselves for the dive, finally with one last glance at each other they dunk you in, taking you down near the glowing yellow plants, with one light push the plant enveloped you in their tiny arms, like a golden blanket overlapping eachother to keep you warm in your sleep, Lo'ak saw from above as a sob bubbled up his chest, but still watched until he was dragged away by Neteyam. The eldest son crying himself, still he held onto the useless hope of you returning back.

Lo'ak stared at the glowing plants that held you, your body completely invisible, if he didn't know better it almost looked like there's nothing. Jake and neytiri got up to the surface, the family hugged each other with one member less now.

The sorrow of the family was unmatched, the metkayinas gave their condolences but it wouldn't bring you back though. Soon it was time to visit the spirit tree, to bond with it and forever be recognised as metkayina.

Jake's memory of you : (with neytiri)

You sat near the edge of the lake,the lake where you, Jake and neytiri visited every week, just some alone time for the three of you, legs dangling, feets in the water, splashing it once or twice, your hands busy as you weaved the shawl for Jake, you had made it your mission to make him a new one as the old one was…. Well old!

You were startled when Jake sat beside you quietly, startled was an understatement, he nearly gave you a heart attack. He chuckled when you hit his arm, your laughter music to his ears "Great mother! Jake, you scared me." He just nudged you, his eyes falling onto the fabric in your hand "what are you making, tiyawn?" Your smile made his heart melt as you said "I'm making a shawl for you ma'jake, the old is too short for you" tears pricked his eyes, grabbing the shawl in his hand, swiping at the soft material, a tear falling down on it. You looked up at him confused, why was his crying? Is this not what he wanted? "Ma'jake, why are you crying? You don't like the shawl? Is there something wrong with it?" Your voice full of concern, while he shook his head lightly, he answered, almost a whisper as he brought his hand to my cheek, another tear falling down his face "No, no- *sigh* I'm just happy to see you, yawne" you smiled at his words, relieved he didn't dislike the shawl, you said "I'm happy to see you too, ma'jake", while you were far away from knowing the truth.

Neytiri watched from a distance, fingers lightly covering her lips, tears of her own sliding down the curve of her cheek, walking up to both of you, you immediately pulled her down to sit beside you, Jake and neytiri both shared a glance at each other, while you snuggled in neytiri's side, you sigh "it's nice isn't it? I'd die to stay in this moment forever!" Jake stared at you, his heart broke all over again ; only if you knew, in the end he pulled you both in a tight hug, while you giggled in between them, both Jake and Neytiri savored the moment until the last second,as soon they wouldn't be able to do it again.

Jake didn't realize how time passed and with a heavy heart he disconnected his queue from the tree, opening his eyes atlast…

Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbriskett, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli, @im-in-a-pansexual-panik, @theycallmesia, @elijangwifey, @erosthefae, @murderbirbdany, @killua2dot0, @ilovechickenwings, @kylobensgirl, @darling-imobsessed, @majathepapaya, @sweetirilly, @reinap06, @neteyamforlife, @thatgirljas13, @totesnothere04, @arminsgfloll.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

#. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [reader] ࿐ྂ #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❛ jake sully ༉‧₊˚𑁍 #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❛ neytiri ༉‧₊˚𑁍 #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❛ neteyam ༉‧₊˚𑁍 #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❛ lo'ak ༉‧₊˚𑁍 #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❛ kiri ༉‧₊˚𑁍 #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❛ tuk ༉‧₊˚𑁍 #『✎ : one shots 』 #『✎ : headcanons』 #avatar headcanons #this headcanon is going to be my death cause #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2009 #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar 2 #avatar fandom #avatar angst #hurt no comfort #im cryinggg #loak angst #death #dad!jake sully x reader #jake x reader x neytiri #i luv u guys so much #dead reader #rip my mental health #avatar fanfiction

[jazzmynerule]

Cars outside

prompt: this is kinda like a part two of ‘gold rush’ but in stiles’ perspective

warnings: none :)

✿.｡.:* *:.｡.✿ ✿.｡.:* *:.｡.✿ ✿.｡.:* *:.｡.✿ ✿.｡.:* *:.｡.✿

i’m packing my bags that i didn’t unpack the last time

stiles couldn’t comprehend how somebody could be as beautiful as y/n was

that way she made his stomach churn with butterflies anytime she looked his way

he knew if she was his he’d never let her go

ever

i’m sayin’ “see you again” so many times it’s becoming my tag line

he doesn’t understand how somebody so beautiful could exist

she’s like a rare crystal amongst a bunch of fossils

but you know the truth i’d rather hold you than try to catch this flight

he dreams of having the most perfect life with her

four kids, two boys and two girls, a puppy and a big house in the country surrounded by farms

he would do anything for that girl

even break his own heart

so many things i’d rather say but for now it’s “goodbye”

every day he takes the long route to his locker just so he can pass her and see her angelic like smile

makes his heart pound against his chest like he’s just finished running a marathon

you, say i’m always leavin’

it pangs his heart knowing she’ll never share the same feelings but he can’t help but fall more in love with the girl everyday

she’s like a drug

he’s addicted

you, when you’re sleepin’ alone but the cars outside but i don’t wanna go tonight

“hey y/n, i’m so sorry to ask but do you have an extra pen..? i kinda forgot mine again”

stiles chuckled awkwardly as he turns in his chair to face to big grinned girl

“of course stiles” she smiled as she handed the boy her last pen

“you’ve sucked me dry of my pens stilinksi” she giggled making tender eye contact with him

“yeah sorry about that, i always forget to give them back.. plus i don’t think you want them back anyways i always chew the lids up till there’s nothing left to chew”

she giggled at his words which made his stomach turn into a zoo full of butterflies

“you can keep it” she smiled

i’m not gettin’ in the Addison Lee, unless you pack your bags, you’re comin’ with me

he had to find a partner for the english presentation

he couldn’t go with Scott because he already chose allison and nobody else liked the poor boy

before he could even look for a partner he felt a tap on his shoulder

“wanna be my partner? my friend isn’t here today” y/n smiled up at the tall boy watching his face light up with joy

“don’t even have to ask” he smiled back at the girl

“great! where do you wanna do the project?” she questioned

“we can’t work on it at mine, dads gone a bit cuckoo from the case he’s working on”

“alright so we’ll do it at mine, does tonight after you finish training sound good?” she asked putting her stuff down and grabbing her pen out of her pocket

“yeah tonight works” he replied

the small girl grabbed his hand and wrote her address on his palm

“i’ll see you tonight then” she smiled a toothy smile and walked out of the english classroom

 leaving stiles to fist pump the air like a two year old

i’m tired of lovin’ from afar and never being where you are

there he was standing on y/n’s front porch knocking on her door frantically

his heart was pounding a million beats per/minute if that was even possible

he’s never been so nervous in his life and that’s saying something because that boy is anxious mess always

close the windows, lock the doors, don’t wanna leave you anymore

“hey stiles” y/n smiled as she opened the door

‘god she’s perfect isn’t she?’ stiles thought as he saw the girl

her hair was in the messiest bun he’s ever seen, her glasses were hanging to one side as if they’ve been fixed on multiple occasions and her eyes were dripping with sleep

even when she looked like a hot mess

she still made stiles go weak in the knees

ooh-ooh, ah-ah

“hey if you’re tired i can always come back tomorrow?” stiles said taking a step down from her porch

“no it’s fine trust me i was just taking a nap” she half smiled

“you sure y/n?”

“yes stiles”

he was starting to get a weird feeling of guilt in his stomach the more she she told him to stay like he was draining the only energy she had left for the day

i’m starin’ at the same four walls in a different hotel

he couldn’t focus on anything she was explaining for the project

he didn’t understand any of the words she was saying

all he could hear was the mumbles coming from her beautiful lips

the lips he wishes he could peck every second of the day

It's an unfamiliar feelin' but I know it so well

the way she would fix her glasses anytime she looked at stiles made him go crazy

just the way she sat so close to him was driving him insane

he doesn’t understand how somebody like y/n is breathing the same air as him

Oh, but you know the truth I would rather hold you than this mobile in my hand, but I guess it’ll do because for you I would run up my phone bill

“Stiles are you even paying attention?” Y/n sighed setting her pen down on the bed

“uhm duh yeah obviously” stiles scoffs sarcastically

“such a bad liar” she snickered looking in the boys eyes

You say I'm always leavin', You, when you need me the most, But the car's outside, But I don't wanna go tonight, I'm not gettin' in the Addison Lee, Unless you pack your bags, You're comin' with me, I'm tired of lovin' from afar, And never being where you are, Close the windows, lock the doors, Don't wanna leave you anymore

his body felt paralysed like he couldn’t move

her eyes were his favourite part of her

not her pretty pink lips or her squeezable rosy cheeks

her gorgeous glossy y/e/c eyes

the way they soften when they look at him

or how they squint when she laughs

Oh, darling, all of the city lights Never shine as bright as your eyes

“you have the most prettiest eyes y/n” stiles sighed watching as her face grew red

“if this is one of your stupid pranks to play with my emotions stiles that isn’t funny” she laughed dryly seeming as if she thinks he’s lying

“it’s not y/n seriously, you’re eyes are so mesmerising” he smiled down at the girl

even when sitting down he was still a few inches taller

“thank you stiles” she smiled back at the boy

his face held an emotion she never thought she’d see when looking at him

admiration

he placed his hand on her cheek and stroked it lovingly with the pad of his thumb

“the prettiest girl i know” he leant down and whispered in her ear which sent shivers down the girls spine

“no that’s Lydia” y/n whispered back

“nah uh, it’s you” he argued moving back and smiled

“always been you y/l/n, always you” he chuckled lightly

“what do you mean?” she asked tilting her head like a confused puppy

“since third grade i’ve been so unbelievably in love with you it’s like my heart was gonna explode every time you walked past me”

“what? no it can’t have been me i mean you literally stuck hearts on lydia’s papers every english lesson” y/n shot up from her spot on the bed and started fiddling with her fingers

“i did it to everybody y/n, even your papers but i was too scared you’d see so i ripped the page out and kept it in my bag” he answered standing up as well

“oh my god” at this point she felt like she couldn’t breathe like her lungs had collapsed on her

“hey it’s alright if you don’t share the same feelings you know kinda knew you wouldn’t anyways, he smiled down at her trembling figure

before he knew it the girl pulled his face down and gave him a quick peck on the lips as a way of showing him she does like it back

“oh well i guess you do then”

———

a/n: this took me forever and a half to write this.. i lost motivation half way through if you couldn’t tell but i kinda wanted to finish it and get it out there for you guys :)

#stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #mieczyslaw stilinski #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf stiles

[chicabae]

Whumptober Day 4- Hidden Injury

Read on AO3  CB’s Whumptober Collection here

Top Gun: Maverick

Mavclone

"Pete, why didn't you tell me?" "I didn- I didn't know Beau, I swear. I would've told…you…promise."

The adrenaline from the mission began to wear off as Mav made his way out of the celebrating crowd. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Bradley cheering with his squad. He remembered when that used to be him and Ice after missions and Mav felt a pang in his chest. It hurt thinking about his longest friend, no longer here to celebrate with him. Lost in his thoughts, Mav stumbled over the catch net. Exhausted, he was prepared to hit the rough ground when a pair of arms caught him at the last second. Blinking up, Mav smiled at his savior. Admiral Beau Simpson grinned down at him, hands pulling him upright and settling on Mav’s hips.

"C'mon Captain, let's get you to medical."

Mav leaned a little into Cyclone's grip, "Yes sir," he teased.

He could hear Beau’s little chuckle, "At least your attitude is still intact." They navigated the hallways in silence, Mav rested his head on Cyclone's shoulder and closed his eyes. He took on a slow shuffle and trusted his partner to get them where they needed to be. His body began to hurt and ache the further they went. The only thought in his head was, Crashing two times within a month was not fun.

"Pete, open your eyes for me, sweetheart," Beau's voice was quiet, murmuring into his hair. He hummed back and nodded, blinking at the bright overhead lights. The medical wing was crisp and sterile as always. He straightened up as a doctor came walking over with a clipboard, but winced, the pain in his side growing.

The doctor led them back to an empty bed, but when Cyclone helped him onto it, the pain sharpened and he cried out. Beau froze beside him before he and the doctor grabbed at his flight suit. Finally zipping it open, Mav squeezed his eyes shut as they lifted his shirt, the pain becoming too intense as the doctor began poking and prodding his side.

"Pete, why didn't you tell me?" Beau held him still as Mav tried to squirm away. Chancing a look, Mav gasped at what he saw. His entire left side was a camouflage of purples and blues, cuts and scratches oozed lazily. When the doctor pressed too hard, Mav yelped and flinched away.

"I didn- I didn't know Beau, I swear. I would've told…you…promise," Mavs vision quickly narrowed and the room began to spin as he leaned heavily into Cyclone's side. Breathing heavily, he looked up and met his bright blue eyes, "Tell Bradley, tell him I-"

"I will, I promise Pete, but you need to breathe for me. Just breathe." Beau's soothing voice cut through Mav's panic, trying to breathe in but coughing instead. When he got his breath back, Mav slumped into Beau's side, tears falling down his face, tired and in pain. The doctor left with a few quiet words to Cy and began to talk to some nurses. He slowly reclined back onto the bed, his side pulsed angrily at the movement and Mav groaned. Warm hands cradled his face, turning him to face Beau. "Look at me sweetheart, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he placed a kiss on Mav's forehead, his thumbs wiping away a stray tear.

"Hurts," Mav croaked. Nurses began to surround them, pulling the rest of the flight suit off and sticking him with multiple IVs. The machines around him came to life, settling into a rhythmic beep.

A nurse came up and began to speak softly, "Captain, you have multiple bruised and cracked ribs and we suspect one or two are broken as well. You have internal bleeding because of it and we'll need to correct it with immediate surgery. Do you want us to call anyone for you? Is there anyone we need to contact for medical permission?"

"No," Mav said immediately, "The Admiral is my-my," the words caught in his throat. He turned despite the burning in his side and began to cough. Beau's hand rubbed his back in sympathy, "I'm his medical proxy and power of attorney." The nurse nodded and wrote that in her file. Mav's coughing fit ended and he lay back down with a wince.

"If anything happens," Mav spoke pointedly at Beau's silent form, "you go to him and only him."

The nurse nodded and walked to his IV pole to inject Mav with the anesthesia. Looking at Beau, he raised a shaky hand and rested it on his cheek, Beau's hand coming up to hold it in place. "I'll see you when I wake up, grumpy. Go eat, talk to Sol, do something, okay?" Mav's blinks got longer, his words slurring towards the end. Beau could only nod, as their privacy curtain was pulled back and the last thing Mav heard was Bradley's loud cry, "Mav? Mav!?"

—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The quiet machine next to him was the first thing Mav noticed as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to a darkened room, lights off and the curtains closed. Beside him, Beau was asleep. His head pillowed on his arms resting on the bed near Mav's thighs. One of his hands was outstretched and linked with Mav's. Giving it a gentle squeeze, Beau squeezed back before shooting up, eyes wide. Mav couldn't help but smile as Beau leaned in for a kiss.

"Hi" Mav rasped.

"Hi" Cy whispered back.

"All good?" He asked, his side no longer burning. His husband nodded, grabbing a water cup beside him and raising it to his lips. When Mav was done, Beau set it back before hesitating, like he wanted to say something. Mav gave his hand a squeeze.

"Bradley was here. And I sent him away." Beau looked away. "The squad is fine, you're the only one with injuries. But I wouldn't let him see you. Not yet, at least."

Mav reached out and gently pulled Beau back to face him. "Thank you," he whispered. Even thinking about talking at an average level made his head hurt. "You know how much Bradley means to me, but right now I just need you."

Beau leaned in and kissed him gently. It was just as electrifying as their first.

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #dead on your feet #hidden injury #top gun maverick #cymav #mavclone #hospital #collapse #hurt/comfort #pete maverick mitchell #beau cyclone simpson

[strange-ghoul]

im... unwell. read tags

blood dripped down my body from my mouth. I couldn't identify where the pain was coming from, but it was somewhere.

I've thrown up multiple times by now. My body wracked with chills as I laid naked on the bathroom floor. I felt exposed, horrible, disgusting, but there I was. Alive. Somehow.

I crawled my way back to the toilet, throwing up again. The bile got onto my hair and stained my teeth, but I couldn't bring myself to take care of it. I had to get this... bug, out of my system.

The bug being something I didn't understand. It was a feeling in my chest, sinking into my stomach. It was something that began to take over my entire body, all the way to my brain. It made me feel deplorable, it made me feel like my body wasn't mine anymore. The urge to rip aspects of my body off were becoming more and more apparent, where soon I knew impulse control would fail.

Would it be so bad to take a knife to my chest, forever securing the feeling of steel and blood to me? Would it be so bad to take off what has hurt me?

I thought back to the bridge nearby. Maybe it's easier there. Maybe if I fall, I'll be okay. Maybe the darkness would hold me and coddle me, love me until even my memories became dust.

Nobody would be there, and it was night already; does a tree really make sound when it falls, even if nobody was there to hear it?

I crawled back to the side of the bathtub, tears already falling down my face again. Everything on my body felt like it was aching and burning.

How hard was it to be cared for? How hard was it for somebody to reach out to you and hold you? Even if it was metaphorically, even if it was just a writing, why was it so hard to be loved?

I can't feel love the same as others. I don't understand romance, I don't feel it. Neither do I understand human touch.

Was it because I was scarred from it? Was the abuse I endured just enough for me to swear it off wholly?

Or was it just me. Am I aromantic? Asexual? I think so. I have no desire for either, even if I acted that I did.

But did this mean I didn't deserve love?

It sure felt like it.

I took a shaky breath in, coughing out a sob. every tear hurt my head more and more, but I couldn't stop. The cold tiles below me now didn't give me any comfort, only resentment.

I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be held in some type of way. I wanted someone to hold me by the face and tell me they loved me unconditionally, even if I was stuck in a body that wasn't mine.

I need somebody to tell me that everything isn't for nothing. That I am smart, that I am okay, that I am worth more than what teachers, parents, and peers thought of me.

The work I produce from my hands- it's all a lie. I've convinced myself every comment was just a pity party. Who'd look at my creations and genuinely think anything good of it? They all had so many flaws which were irredeemable in my eyes. These people- They were my friends, my family- they just had to be being respectful, there was no way they could feel this way towards anything I wrote. It was wrong.

I don't deserve what I get from those works. I don't deserve the support I get. I don't deserve anything. I feel horrible getting it too- wasn't I supposed to feel prideful when my worked was commented on and loved? So why did I feel a stab of pang, why did I feel like I was never good enough to deserve those words?

Could it all trail back to my self-loathing that had already manifested itself within me?

... i don't know.

I don't feel right in this body of mine. It feels broken and unsustained. I look myself in the mirror and I don't believe it's mine. I can't recognize that face- I don't know who that is. I'm told over and over again it's mine, but it's like I can't compute that.

Perhaps that's why I couldn't understand anyone caring about me beyond the thin layer. Perhaps that's why I couldn't accept compliments about literally anything I've ever done.

... but I'm unsure if this is right.

I just wished I was loved, but I fear even then I'll think it's all pity. As I think everything is. Because, in essence,

Who'd give a shit about me?

My eye lids are heavy; even through the glaring lights of the bathroom was sleep slowly over taking me. I'll wake up tomorrow and regret everything I've ever said and done in regard to my mental health. I'll convince myself all over again that I don't need help and I am simply over dramatic. Tomorrow morning, I'll convince myself I am fine, and nothing will be wrong. And then I'll continue on pushing these thoughts, doubts, and self-hatred aside for another night similar to this one.

I place bets on myself occasionally- will this be the night I'm found dead, or will I hate myself for ever thinking I was anything but a fraud and nuisance?

#vent #im shouting into the void #i described my mental state with the only way i know how which is writing a fictional scenario #cw vomit #cw sui thoughts #imposter syndrome #body dysphoria #aroace problems #a lot of self loathing #i need thearpy lmao but can't afford that shit so this is the next best thing #look i wrote and wrote and it's slightly tangible I think but I'm not rereading it right now. #NOT Ghost related

[mintchanniemint]

[angst ; wordcount: 2k]

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

pt.1 ; pt.2

[08:49 a.m]

The warm, sweet smell of freshly baked chocolate croissants quickly filled up the small kitchen in Chan's apartment. He had a day off and after going to the bakery nearby to treat himself to a nice breakfast, he checked the mailbox and strangely found, among the different advertising magazines and usual bills he had to pay, a letter addressed to him. 

He left it on the counter and kept staring at it while taking big, slow bites of the warm brioche in his hand. His mind started wandering from one thought to another, he really didn't know who could possibly leave a letter to him since he usually kept in touch with people either via emails or texts.

But suddenly, a specific thought flashed in his mind for a fraction of seconds. He stopped chewing on the croissant as he slowly walked closer to the counter and his eyes analyzed the handwriting properly. 

"I'm so dumb…" 

He mumbled to himself, a big sigh following right away. He left his unfinished breakfast on the small table and his fingers quickly traced his name written on that envelope. It was your handwriting, he couldn't explain why he didn't recognize it the second he saw it, but it was probably because he convinced himself that the two of you weren't gonna cross paths anymore. 

What was the content of the letter? Why did you leave a letter? And when? Why not a text message? 

Chan quickly shook his head, annoyed by all those unanswered questions floating around in his head, and he rapidly opened the envelope, but he closed it again right away, cowardly. 

"Dear Chan…" 

That was all he read. Yet, he felt scared. Scared of what you carefully wrote for him in that piece of paper. He felt so small and coward, but at the same time he knew it was wrong to just ignore it. He also had to admit that if he was already over you, he probably wouldn't have felt this way at all. 

"Three, two, one…" 

He got the piece of paper out of the envelope and took a deep breath before letting his eyes absorb every single word written on it.   

"Dear Chan, 

Yes, yes it's me. I don't know why I'm not texting you. I promised myself I wouldn't have contacted you but here I am… a coward as usual!" 

He lightly bit his bottom lip as he snorted and looked away for a moment. You didn't change at all, no matter how much time had passed. 

"But don't expect something long. No, this is something important and I want to keep it as short as possible so you can read this quickly."

His mind was telling him to stop reading. 

Why am I even reading this? We're not together anymore-

But he actually cared so much. Cared for a relationship he, himself, had ruined with his own hands. 

"Focus, Chan. Focus."

He sounded mad at his own thoughts, and decided to proceed with reading the rest of the letter. 

The piece of paper slowly left his hand as it delicately reached the floor, by his feet. 

"...so you can read this quickly. 

Thank you, Chan. Thank you and sorry. 

Thank you for keeping me warm during lonely, cold nights. 

Thank you for showing me how bright your eyes can shine whenever you smile. 

And thank you for breaking me, too. I was able to get up again, maybe with some scars, but I'm not gonna stay stuck here. We have to move on. 

I don't have any bad feelings for you. Thank you for loving me, and thank you for letting me love you.

I'm actually leaving tonight, you know, I acc accepted a job overseas. 

I wish you the best, always. "

Leaving?

Why were you leaving? Was it because of him?

A relationship that Chan knew he had completely ruined. He wasn't able to make you as happy as he thought he was, he actually hurt you multiple times and didn't know how to fix it, until it reached a breakpoint. And after letting you down, he just thought it was better to leave you. Because he didn't want to hurt you more than he had already done. 

His fingers started running through his messy hair, messing it up even more than it was already ruffled. His mind was running even faster than a few moments earlier and he was feeling somehow lost. 

What was he going to do? He noticed that you left the time of your flight in the letter, did he have to meet you there? Were you actually trying to leave a message to him? Were the two of you really over that relationship? 

What were you telling him? What was he supposed to do? 

"Gosh, this is destroying my mind." 

His voice filled the silence in the kitchen with slight anger and confusion. 

Did he actually want to go and meet you? Was it going to be worth it? What if you two ended up arguing? 

He reached for the piece of paper, leaving it on the table as he tried to finish his breakfast, although his hunger was already more than gone. 

His mind once again drifted away as he let the sweet, warm taste of chocolate fill his senses. His eyes focused on those few words at the end of the handwritten letter. 

Bite after bite, he could feel his own thoughts getting more and more mixed up. 

As he arrived home, he left the grocery bags on the table in the kitchen and sat down, his eyes automatically moving to the handwritten letter, that simple yet scary letter. 

He felt like a weird pang in his heart decided to bother him.

As he tried his best not to think about that letter, he tried to get distracted throughout the day; he went out for a stroll, met with some friends, and went grocery shopping. Yet that weird feeling in his chest wasn't leaving him alone. It really felt like something was wrong, not in its place… 

Chan took a deep breath and put that letter back in its envelope. He finally made up his mind, there wasn't much time left before you would have left the country. He had to meet you. 

"What should I do…" 

He sighed soundly, his heart tightening, his throat suddenly feeling dry as his hands caught that piece of paper for the thousandth time that day. Reading and rereading those few sentences, his eyes couldn't help but let his mind memorize the time you had written at the end of the letter. There, before your signature, at the corner of the paper. 

[9:23 p.m]

He tried his best to look somehow good; he kept his hands from distractedly ruffling his hair, he didn’t fidget too much with the hem of his coat because he knew he would have ruined it somehow. He didn't want to look like a whole mess, he didn't want that to be the last image you would have had of him vene though it was getting quite difficult for him to hide it.

He sighed once again, leaning his head against the window of the cab, on his way to the airport, as the bright neon lights of the city were occasionally caressing his features while he let the soft, distant music coming out of the radio fill up his mind, accompanying his thoughts. 

Chan kept mumbling to himself the time you wrote in that letter as he looked at all the huge screens listing the different flights. He was scared he was late, maybe he didn't understand the letter properly. Maybe it was all something his mind made up for him, maybe-

Once he arrived, he didn't hesitate much before entering that huge building; seeing that huge crowd of people, bright white lights, luggage, voices, smiles, cries.

It felt as if the realization started to hit him. 

You were leaving. You were leaving the country, you were leaving him and all the memories you were able to make with him.

And that was going to be his last chance to see you again. 

As his mind kept running through irrational thoughts, his eyes met with yours. You were in a queue, waiting for your turn for the check-in. You were wearing a warm coat, a black scarf covering and warming up your neck while your fingers were distractedly tapping on your suitcase. 

Chan felt like time stopped the moment your eyes met with his. He just looked at you, a little bit out of breath, as one of his hands went through his hair, ruffling it. He bit his lip and looked down for a second, probably cursing at himself for ruining his looks. 

You mentally pointed out how his hair was longer than you remembered. Before you could notice anything else, it was finally your turn to the check-in. Your mind kept giving you so many rushed thoughts, as if you were somehow thrilled to be seeing him after so long. You unconsciously didn’t expect to see him, you had to admit it. So much had happened in the past months; since seeing him at work was getting unbearable, you asked for a shift with a colleague in order not to see him when you were there, not even on accident and then you got that job offer and didn’t even think about it twice before accepting. You saw it as a chance to leave everything behind.

Chan quietly stayed there, his hands both in the pockets of his coat as his eyes couldn't leave, not even for a second, your figure. 

As Chan saw you walk closer to him, he froze. He felt like he was supposed to run away, as if he couldn't face you nor deserve to even talk to you. 

"Have a safe flight!" 

You thanked the lady in front of you with a smile and a nod as you walked away from that huge queue, directed to the gate for your flight. 

You kept getting closer and closer to where he was standing. 

His heart was racing, that ache not leaving his chest as your figure just kept getting cleaner and closer to his eyes. 

You stopped a few steps far from him, enough to hear each other. 

"Hey, you got the letter." 

"Yeah, I did. I… I did, yeah." 

As you were able to better observe his face, you noticed how his eyes were weary, his hair was messy because of excessive ruffling and he overall looked so exhausted. You couldn’t help but worry for him.

"Are you okay-" 

"Chan, it's not just your fault-" 

"I'm sorry." 

He blurted out so quickly, he probably didn’t even hear your question. His eyes not brave anymore to keep eye contact with yours. 

"I should have known better. It is my fault."

"It's okay. Maybe we just weren't meant to be." 

"Don't... say that." 

His voice sounded full of pain and regret as you slowly walked closer to him.

You gently placed two fingers under his chin, encouraging him to make his eyes focus on yours. 

"Then, Chan… Do something to make me stay." 

Those few, painful words left your lips in a hidden, loud and surreal cry as your eyes were trying to stay strong and keep eye contact with him. 

Chan was there, in front of you, his lips slightly parted as you could tell panic was slowly filling his mind. His hands ruffled his slightly long hair again and as he did so, you started taking a few steps back, ready to turn and walk away. 

“Anything.”

You insisted, your hand leaving his chin.

And you suddenly found yourself in that warm, familiar hug. A hug you had missed for months, already. A hug you thought you were not going to experience anymore. 

"Stop it!" 

His loud voice pierced your ears, followed by a swift, messy row of footsteps sounding louder and louder as you felt his hand grabbing you by the arm. 

"Whatever I try to say, it will only make things worse."

He mumbled between soft sobs as you could feel his embrace getting tighter around your waist. 

"Maybe it's just supposed to go this way." 

You tried to hide your trembling voice as much as possible as you closed your eyes, your hands now reciprocating the desperate hug. 

"Thanks for letting me love you, Chan." 

"I'm so sorry."

He let his words leave his lips in a low, trembling whisper as he tried to feel that hug as much as he could. 

"... I'm sorry I wasn't worth it-" 

"You were." 

You broke the hug and looked at him one last time with a light smile painting your lips as your eyes were starting to get filled with tears. 

"You're a whole mess, Chan." 

You lightly giggled as you wiped his tears with your thumb. He didn’t say anything back, so you decided to hold him in a last, warm hug.

Your figure getting more and more blurred to Chan's teary eyes as he finally let you go. 

"It's gonna be alright. Believe me." 

You caressed his cheeks one last time before you had to turn your back and walk away, the loud, robotic announcement voice mentioning your flight as you kept moving one step after the other. 

#bang chan au #bang chan imagine #bang chan angst #skz imagine #skz au #stray kids imagine #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz chan #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan au #skz chan angst #skz fic #chan x y/n #chan x reader #self insert #kpop fanfic #Kpop fanfiction #kpop angst

[kuroos-moon]

Overworking S/o

➪ a/n: wrote this on a whim through a tight sched of academics, im kinda rusty in writing ngl :/ 

➪ request: I saw that reqs were open so if I may can I request a fluff where osamu, kuroo and oikawa (and some of your fav haikyuu boys if you'd like 👉👈) that comforts their overworking s/o because they noticed they haven't been eating or sleeping and having breakdowns a lot

➪ pairing: miya osamu x reader, kuroo tetsuro x reader, tohru oikawa x reader 

Miya Osamu

Disappointment was written all over his face as he enters your room. He was just off practice, shoulders aching and his entire body fatigued. “Baby, when was the last time you ate?” He grimly asks, setting his bag and jacket at the edge of your bed before he sits behind you. 

“I don’t know,” you exasperatedly sigh, combing through your hair before picking up your pen and scribbling away again. You sat on the floor, just in front of his feet from where he sat on your bed and he reaches down to put his hands on your shoulders.

“Stop writing for a minute,” he mutters, looking at the back of your head as he tries to hold on to his thinning patience at the thought of your self-neglect. “Y/n,” he icily says as if he were scolding you, making you let go of your pen, muttering under your breath in annoyance. 

He doesn’t say anything but rather surprises you when he starts massaging your shoulders. His hands weren’t only skilled for making food with precise proportions and mouth-watering flavors, his hands knew just how to put you at ease too. 

“Better?” He mumbles, and you nod, feeling guilty. He was silent the whole time, not saying a thing or scolding you as he normally would. 

It’s as if he knew his silence would make you feel bad enough, because the silence was chilling and it made you feel worse every second. “Mom called you?” You ask him in a small voice, “yep.” 

“Samu, I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I’m just trying to meet deadlines and I wanna top the class this time too.” 

“And you can do it,” he exhales a breath, “but not at the expense of you health.” 

“I know, but I’m not doing good enough.”

“You’re doing your best,” he sternly says, halting his movements on your shoulders, “and I’m very proud of you, okay?” 

He clenches his jaw when you don’t reply, but your shoulders were shaking, he knew you were crying. 

“It’s okay, I gotcha,” he leans down to circle his arms around your shoulders, hugging you to him before kissing your head. After your breakdown which he comforted you throughout, he now has your hand in his, offering you a small smile as you make your way to the door of your room. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“Anything, I love everything you make,” you grin at him, making him chuckle. “Y’know, mom’s kinda hurt that I like your cooking more than hers.”

“She should be happy I’m husband material,” he winks, shortly bringing your hand up to his lips. 

Kuroo Tetsuro 

You slap at his back as he carries you over his shoulder but it didn’t faze him at all, much to your dismay. “Tetsuro I have no time for your games, I have work to do,” you whine in frustration, already wanting to cry.

“You need sleep,” he grunts, ignoring your protests as he swings your bedroom door open before he plops you down the bed. “Get away,” you hiss, sitting up before you’re pushed back down the mattress, his knees on either sides of your legs. 

“You owe it to yourself to rest,” he looks at you with scrutiny, and in other circumstances you might’ve backed down. “I will rest once I finish everything.”

“You will rest now, or you’ll end up in the hospital from extreme fatigue.” 

“I hate you,” you childishly bite back, making him raise a brow at you before his face goes back to being expressionless, “I love you, so listen to me.” 

You don’t have anything to counter that with so you shut up, looking at him with an irritated glare before you feel your own tears prickle your eyes. He sighs as you cover your face. 

“Kitten, it’s okay,” he gently grips your wrist to tug on it, but you swat his hold away. “No,” you croak out, “it’s not okay, I’m behind too much work already and here you are stopping me from finishing them!” You snap at him, now sitting up as tears profusely fall from your eyes. 

“Get off me,” you grit your teeth, trying to swallow down your sobs, but he ignores you, having you lay down again as he crushes you with the weight of his upper body. “Tetsu, what the hell, I need to-”

“I won’t let anyone harm you, not even yourself,” he cuts you off, his hand behind your head as he slightly pulls away to look at you. “It pains me to see you cry kitten, you’ve cried how many times this week already and it’s time I help you help yourself.” 

His words were sincere and true, reaching your heart and unclogging your deafened ears to what he said. “I’m sorry,” your lips quiver, and he sighs before he rolls off you, an arm around your waist so that he brings you on top of him. 

“Let’s sleep, I’ll wake you up early tomorrow, I promise,” he says as he rubs soothing circles on your back from under your shirt. “I love you,” you apologetically say, nuzzling your face at the crook of his neck. 

“You just told me you hated me,” he chuckles, and you shake your head, gripping tightly on the cloth of his shirt from his chest. “I love you, I didn’t mean that.”

He lets out another chuckle, tightening his hold around you, “I love you too, I mean it.” 

Oikawa Tohru

“Y/n?” He calls as he enters your shared living room, before his eyes land on your stressed out figure by the table buried in books and papers. “I’m home, love,” he smiles even though he knew you weren’t going to look up. 

“Your Tohru’s home, you should at least look at him,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the suffocating atmosphere around you. “Hey,” you offer him a small smile, finally looking up to meet his hazel eyes. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” his smile doesn’t falter despite the pang on his chest upon seeing your puffy and tired eyes. He walks over to your bathroom, filling the tub with warm water as he fondles over the multiple options of essential oils by the sink. 

Finally deciding on the lavender one, he readies everything from the bath tub, your towel, and your robe before he heads out and makes his way to you with a proud accomplished smile of what he has prepared. “Y/n-chan,” he muses, crouching down beside you. 

“What is it? I’m kinda busy,” you distractedly respond, making him sigh. “Give me a hug, please? I need it,” he pouts, extending his arms to you and you can’t even let him down. You bring your arms around his waist as you were engulfed in his warmth and scent, his hug making you feel calm and at peace with how gentle and loving he held you. 

“When’s the last time you took a shower?” 

“Uh, do I smell?” You sheepishly ask, making him laugh. “Not at all, come, I’ll give you a bath.” 

“I still have to-”

“You need to be taken care of,” he cuts you off, pulling away to look at you so that you could see the seriousness in his face. Before you could agree, he had already picked you up with an arm around your waist and the other behind your knees.

You’ve always admired how charming he was, much like a prince; and he was being the usual prince charming right now as he held you in his arms with such care, looking at you with so much love and familiarity as if he knew just how to make you feel the way you felt now. 

You can’t help it all, it made you feel so loved as you look back at him with your mouth agape; his eyes never leaving yours as he wears a small smirk on his face, knowing he has you smitten. 

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” He says as he sets you down on your feet, his slender fingers starting to rid you off your clothes. It wasn’t anything sexual at all, it was purely just you being bare in front of him literally and figuratively. 

He crouches just beside the bath tub while you lay inside, your head resting on his chest making his shirt wet. “I’m tired,” you mumble and he hums in response, “I know, and that’s okay, all you need to do is rest.” 

His voice was velvet as it fell on your ears, and you can’t help but cry a little as he kisses your temple, whispering praises and mini confessions of how much he loved you and how proud of you he was. 

General Taglist: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @sunshine-hina @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle  @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #osamu x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! x reader

[zoey-wades]

Get You (Fluff-ish)

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Aurora Emery

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: A little flirting and swearing, dassit.

Summary: Bryce and Aurora get to know one another, which pushes our boy into unknown, cavity-inducing territory.

A/N: My number one rarepair that no one else ships. I wrote this because I was bullied by @thecapturedafrique into writing something. I haven't written anything for choices in quite some time, so this is... that something.

_____________________________________________________________

To Be Alone (Part One)

Bryce always believed that fawning--real, genuine, starry-eyed awe--was goofy. He could count on one hand the number of times a partner left him speechless, which was quite a feat. It wasn’t that he believed he was above it; he could never quite understand the position someone would have to be in to feel that way about someone else. But that damn Aurora Emery and her silent but deadly studious stare could bring any man to his knees. He told her as much. Multiple times, in fact. She’d laugh it off as just a huge joke, but Bryce needed her to know that he was being legit. It was important to him that she knew that about herself. Maybe she could reel it in and let him have control over himself for once.

There wasn’t a name for what they were--a fact that Bryce was okay with. At least he thought. Right now they were just comfortable in one another’s company. It’s not that he didn’t want more...the question crossed his mind more than once. But Aurora never once hinted at the fact that she was looking for anything more than companionship. She was blunt. If she wanted something serious, she definitely would’ve said so. Unfortunately, Edenbrook was filled to the brim with nosy fucks. And though he wasn’t necessarily one for hiding his attraction, he knew for a fact that the attention made Aurora uncomfortable. On more than one occasion, he had to tell people to back off when they made comments about “thawing the ice princess.” He would do anything in his power to protect her, if he could. He spent two months of Fridays with her, a ritual that just kind of happened without much planning. They’d talk for hours, and more than once he’d woken up in her bed, with his arms wrapped around her and her head on his chest.

So when Aurora texted him that Friday afternoon about a change of plans, curiosity plagued him.

Bryce: Change of plans, huh? What’s up?

Three bubbles popped up. And then:

Aurora: I wanted to do something different. Same meeting place?

Bryce: Always.

Bryce: Am I allowed to know what that something different is? Or is it a surprise?

Aurora: It wasn’t a surprise.

Aurora: But now I think it is.

Bryce: You’re killin me. Do you know what you do to me, Rory?

There was a long pause as she typed. And then stopped. And then typed again.

Aurora: Where have I heard that before? ;)

And there it was. That boldness that seemed to show up at the most inopportune times and sent a rushing wave of warmth through him. It climbed up the back of his neck and made him huff out a sigh in the middle of the cafeteria.

Bryce: Careful, I might have to take you for a ride in the parking lot. Again.

Aurora: Don’t make threats you can’t follow through with, daddy.

Despite the bravado, Bryce was clearly flustered. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to out-Bryce him. But here he was: red faced and shifty-eyed in the middle of a crowded room. He placed his phone face-down and took a long sip from his water bottle, willing his blood to return to his brain and away from his head. When he was sure that he could resume the conversation without hunting Aurora down for sport, he picked the phone back up.

Bryce: Alright, Miss Emery. I’ll play your games. See you later?

Aurora: xxoo

It was all so corny, he thought to himself. Reading and re-reading her texts, or scrolling through her Instagram to see her even when she wasn’t around...these were actions that he had NEVER considered remotely Bryce-like. Yet there he was, spending his free time thinking about what he’d say to her when he saw her at the end of the day. Thoughts of her were interrupted only when he needed all of his attention to keep people’s organs in place. Or when he needed to write a report. But when all was said and done, his thoughts drifted right back to her. He blinked, and it was the end of the day. He felt his hands shake, and wondered what the fuck he had to be nervous about.

They’d spent so much time together. They were practically together. Weren’t they?

“God damn it,” he muttered to himself, as he ran his fingers through his hair and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. It always looked good, but for some reason--today of all days--it wouldn’t cooperate, “You are Bryce Fucking Lahela. You don’t get flustered. Jesus.”

He shook his arms out, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he sighed, “Let’s go see our woman.”

Aurora looked amazing leaning against the hood of his car. She was dressed in black jeans and a simple tee shirt, with her hair in a bun. But he wanted to kiss her right there in front of everyone, PDA be damned. Her face lit up when she noticed him, and he nearly tripped over his feet as he walked across the parking lot, causing him to pause his steps. Her brows furrowed in concern.

God she was so cute.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking in an attempt to save face. Because of course he did.

“Are you alright, Lahela?” She asked, raising a hand to his forehead, “You’re clammy.” Bryce gently grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it absentmindedly, resulting in a slow grin gracing her pretty features.

“I’m good. I just showered, so my hair is a little wet,” her fingers intertwined with his, and his voice caught in his chest. He cleared his throat, “I-uh...I didn’t want to smell like...well you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She bit her lower lip and glanced over his shoulder before leaning up to place a small peck on his lips. It’d been something she’d done numerous times before. But today it felt different. He couldn’t place what the difference was, but as she pulled back from him, he leaned forward to kiss her again. She smiled against his lips, and placed a hand on his chest.

“Down boy,” she laughed, “save some of that energy for later on.”

His first thought was to say “fuck later on” and take her on the hood of his car. The louder second thought reminded him that she wasn’t going anywhere. That this was different. And he nodded, taking a mental step back.

“So what’s the surprise?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

His hands snaked around her and he rested his forehead on her shoulder. The action was surprisingly intimate, all things considered, “I hate when people say that.”

“You’d think it’d make you ask the question less, then.”

“Hardy-har, smartass.” When she reached up to scratch the back of his head with her nails, he groaned involuntarily and squeezed her, lifting his head to look up at her, “We need to get out of here, and fast.”

Something flashed across her features, and she raised a brow.

“Alright.”

The drive to this supposed secret was a long one. Using Aurora’s GPS directions, the trip led them down numerous winding roads, across a bridge, and through some trees. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess she was leading him to his own demise. Maybe she was softening up by holding his hand while he steered. And badly singing along to some 90s pop song was just a plot to let his guard down. It was working. She could brandish a knife, and he wouldn’t even notice.

The final destination was a large clearing filled with parked cars, and a large screen projecting some early 00s movie trailers. People milled around, drinking and eating large buckets of popcorn.

“Well shit,” Bryce grinned as he pulled up to an empty spot between two standing speakers, “You brought me to a drive-in?”

Aurora was already unbuckling her seatbelt, “You said you never got to have a normal high school experience. So, I figured we’d make up for lost time. Only if you want to. If you think this is corny, we can do something else.” She paused and turned to him with wide eyes, “You don’t think this is lame, do you?”

Bryce cupped her face in his hands and pressed a loud smack of a kiss on her lips, “Rory, this is perfect.”

As they stood in line waiting to order movie snacks, he looked over at Aurora to find her deep in thought. Her brows were furrowed as she read the menu, and her lips were slightly pursed just begging to be kissed. She muttered something about the prices staying the same for 10 years, completely unaware of the effect she had on him just by existing. Knowing he had a preference for slashers, Aurora brought him to see a double-feature of Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer which were both favorites of his. He was surprisingly touched that she remembered. He assumed that she may have forgotten those throwaway comments he made. After all, he wasn’t used to people remembering the small details of his life, and he didn’t mention them often. He’d been working so hard for her trust that he didn’t even realize she’d been working to earn his as well, in her own Emery kind of way.

“Caramel corn?” She suddenly said, and he blinked at her in confusion.

“What?”

“Do you want caramel corn? Or kettle corn? I know you like mixing the salty and the sweet. So I’ll get cheddar,” she pointed at the menu, “And you can get the caramel. And we’ll just…” She made a weird gesture, insinuating mixing the two in a bucket. He randomly felt a pang in his stomach and he had to stop himself from doubling over.

Oh.

“Caramel is perfect,” Bryce said, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, “We can do whatever you want.”

Oh no.

She threw him a funny look, but shook her head and chuckled softly, “Okay then.”

Bryce followed her back to the car like a lost puppy, carrying the popcorn while she carried the slurpees, and he felt the pang in his stomach turn into a dull flutter. Seeing Aurora out of her element was something he had to learn to get used to. Within the walls of Edenbrook, she was perpetually serious. You’d be hard pressed to find her laughing or shaking from nerves. She remained calm and level-headed, always logical, and rarely sentimental unless she was with a patient. The first time he saw Aurora lighten up was when she was among their friend group. Though she seemed partially guarded, in hindsight, it was the first time Bryce saw her fully smile. He recognized that she was beautiful, even then. But there was something about the way that she had a smile reserved especially for him that made that smile pale in comparison. There, in the car, she shook the popcorn in a bag vigorously with the dorkiest grin on her face. He wondered if anyone else ever had the chance to see her like this, and he hoped to God they hadn’t.

“You’re gonna tear the bag, Rory,” he said, laughing along with her, “I’ve never seen someone so violent with popcorn. You should’ve just let me do it. With these arms,” he flexed and she rolled her eyes, “It would’ve taken a lot less time.”

“There’s a method to this,” she shook it one last time for good measure, “You don’t want a pile of one flavor at the bottom. It has to be evenly distributed, come on. You should know this.”

She unrolled the bag opening and tilted it in his direction, “See. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re the genius here.”

“Thank you.” She popped a piece of caramel corn in her mouth.

One thing Aurora failed to share with him was that she was afraid of slashers. She clung to his arm during the tense scenes, hiding her face in his shoulder and jumping when people were killed. During the low moments, Bryce would pull her close and whisper film facts to her, hoping that the realism would make the movies a little more palatable. As the time passed, she relaxed, leaning back into the seat and only slightly jumping when someone died. Her hand slipped into his, and he could feel her pulse race. By the time I Know What You Did Last Summer was over, and Scream was about to begin, half of the popcorn was on the floor from Aurora constantly jumping.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t like these? We could’ve seen something else, Aurora,” Bryce asked.

She shrugged, scooping small handfuls of popcorn and throwing them out of the open window, “I work in a hospital. I thought I could handle it. Plus, I know you like them...I just wanted to do something fun.”

“I don’t think watching you freak out over a killer in a fishing village is fun,” Bryce half-joked, “Even though I did like having you curled up under me. That was a plus.”

She playfully hit him on his arm.

“I’m serious though,” Bryce said, turning to her, “next time, we can do something we both like.”

“I promise, it’s not that serious,” she shrugged, “I did this all the time in high school. It’s par for the course.”

He felt the uncharacteristic sting of minor jealousy, but quickly pushed the feeling away.

“So you just brought cute guys to the drive-in all the time? I didn’t know teen Aurora was such a player.”

She snorted and shook her head, taking a large sip from her slurpee, “Never that. I was in the science club and boys scared me. I came here with my friends. Maybe my parents.” There was a moment of pause and she swirled the straw around in her cup, “You’re the first guy I’ve ever been here with. So I guess this is like a high school redo for me, too. So...thanks for coming here with me.”

Her voice sounded so soft, and he realized she was sharing more about herself without him having to reassure her that it was safe to do it. Without thinking, Bryce leaned across the passenger seat and kissed her, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. His large hand cupped her chin, and she walked her fingers around the back of his neck. She tasted like Blue Raspberry syrup and smelled like sweet coconut and vanilla shampoo. When she pulled away and rested her forehead against his, she smiled at him and pushed some loose hair away from his face.

“What was that for?”

“I just felt like it. I don’t know. I…” he swallowed hard and shut his eyes, “I think…”

Fuck.

He opened his eyes to see her watching him with a concerned expression on her face, “You think…? Did I do something--”

“I think I love you, Aurora.”

#playchoices #bryce lahela #aurora emery #bryce x aurora #naja writes #get into it (yuh) or whatever Doja said

[atsunflower]

Semi Eita x Reader

Rated: SFW — Angst, cursing, traffic accident, injury descriptions, slight mentions of anxiety and post traumatic stress. 

Word count: 2070

Author notes: and here is the second part of our F.L.Y collab. I want to thank all the girls from Knights of the coconut and in particular, both @mooshua and @neonghxst who were pretty patient with me and helped me a lot throughout this process. You guys are amazing and I can't thank you enough. I guess that's all. Please enjoy your reading!

F.L.Y Masterlist

If this can no longer resonate/ No longer make my heart vibrate/ Then like this may be how/ I die my first death

He felt suffocated as the breath hitched on his throat.

Staring at his hands, the male recalled how said limbs brought the best time of his life:

A setter position at Shiratorizawa Volleyball club.

A desk job at the public department.

A promise as a rising star along his band, under a label with a contract too good to be true.

Roaming through his memories, he remembers that every single one of his  achievements were accompanied by lights:

The reflectors on the court.

The white lamps from his office.

The blinding lights from the stage.

Once had he everything he wanted. Now it was all out of his grasp — And lights, very similar to the last ones, now plagued his thoughts.

After all, he remembers when they blinded him before the car came crashing onto his body. Chills ran down his spine every time he recalled how the headlights of the vehicle were the last thing he saw before blacking out.

All it took was one second and then, a month at the hospital that turned into a lifetime of pain — it took only an accident for his life never be the same again.

"Maybe this is what they call first death" He muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter in his mouth as he took on his surroundings.

The constant tapping the secretary made on the keyboard left his nerves on edge and, added to the sterile scent hanging on the air, it felt like a reminder of the folder that sat heavy on his lap. In addition, the curious, pitying, eyes trained to his figure did nothing to soothe his anxiety.

Well, it's not everyday you see a rockstar sitting in a clinic waiting room, after he almost died, the man mused in distaste.

"Semi Eita?" The voice called from the door across the lounge. There, a male stood eyeing him as he made his way to the office.

The room was spacious, with a desk, cabinets, a stretcher and some anatomic models. A typical physiotherapist office, he guessed — not like Semi had ever been into one before, though.

"Make yourself comfortable, Semi-san" The brunette said as he organized some papers on the desk surface "I see it's your first time here. I'm Ennoshita Chikara, the physiotherapist who will take care of your condition from now on" They both shook hands as Semi sat on the chair. He cursed internally as he felt no force on his right hand.

"So, what brings you here today, Semi-san?" Ennoshita asked, eyeing Semi's right hand.

The grey haired male gulped before handing the folder to the physiotherapist.

"Here, this is the medical report. Shirabu-sensei made sure to specify everything regarding my hand." The brunette hummed before taking it. Semi couldn't muster up the courage to talk about his condition.

"I know, Semi-san. But I need to hear it for the history taking and you may know acceptance can help you through the recovery process" The apologetic tone made him sick.

"I don't want to talk about it. Could you please just proceed with the therapy?"

"Look, I know it's a sensitive topic but—" The therapist was interrupted mid sentence when Semi stood. The chair screeched on the floor at the sudden movement before the male tried to snatch the folder from the other.

Tried. 

The paper sheets scattered on the floor, since he couldn't take a proper grip on them.

Tears of frustration welled up on his eyes, as he murmured a meek apology only to storm out of the place.

Semi Eita felt the pitying eyes following him all the way back to his house.

At home, he felt in peace.

No sympathetic gazes and no condescending words. Just him alone with his own demons.

I need a bath. And a beer, the gray haired man decided as the weak hand carded through his hair locks. He flinched at the touch, feeling how dull it was — tactless, even. Just a bundle of flesh and bones hanging from his wrist. Nothing like it used to be.

Ignoring the pang on his chest, the man walked through the corridor. By his left, he saw a shining glass door and immediately, a sensation of longing crawled up his spine and clawed at his heart. He opened the tinted surface, entering the room.

The music studio was the same way he left on the accident day: the gray hoodie thrown over the chair, the paper cups of coffee scattered over his desk and the Moleskine with the lyrics he wrote that night. They resembled three months of hard work and the whole place, a sanctuary built of his dreams.

Too bad the room now felt like his own private purgatory.

Running his index finger over the notebook's leathery spine, memories invaded his mind. Regret gnawed on him even though he wasn't at fault — well, who would have predicted that going to get cigarettes late at the night would end up in a near-death experience? Who would've guessed that, on the way back to his condo, a drunk fucker would hit him with his car and vanish from the scene, without calling an ambulance?

If the medical help came sooner, would things be different? He often wondered, even though he knew it couldn't be helped. His friend, doctor Shirabu, said the damage on his arm was too extensive with a chance of recovery little to nonexistent. His heart stopped beating when he heard those words.

Looking back at it, Semi Eita regretted getting out of his house for such a trivial thing. Before, the musician had his dreams to push him through. Now, all he had left was a medical report — written in a horrendous handwriting, if he may add — stating that patient Semi Eita suffered a minor brain damage and multiple broken bones that caused a lower motor neuron syndrome with wallerian degeneration on the median nerve of his right arm — he didn't understand a shit about the medical terms, but he knew it was bad. Well, it's not like paralysed fingers in the form of 'the hand of benediction' could be a good outcome of an accident.

Benediction? More like a curse, he scowled.

Snapping out of his internal turmoil, brown orbs wandered over the music studio, eyeing all his equipment, as the man drowned on the nostalgic feeling.

On the far corner of the room, white tiles smiled at him — Though, it wasn't a sign of sympathy: in the far corner of the room, the black piano was smiling in mockery, as if it laughed at him, knowing his condition.

You'll never play again, The piano said

"I know!" He retorted.

Your career is dead, the piano chanted.

"I know!"

So pitiful, it snickered — and that was the last straw before despair washed through his body.

Semi spotted the electric guitar by his left. Grabbing the instrument by its neck, he threw it at the other. The wooden body crashed onto the keyboard, the ivory keys agonized at the violence.

Not that he cared, though. He was hurting a lot more than the piano did.

And the tears running down his face were proof enough of it.

Absorbed in his self-conscious state, he didn't see you entering the room, eyes roaming over the mess he made.

"Oh my, Eita!" And his body crashed into yours, sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Eita, love" You said softly, testing the waters.

"Get out" He pleaded weakly, both of you still slumped over the carpet of his studio. Your boyfriend stopped crying long ago, but sorrow still covered his face.

The sight was heartbreaking.

"You know I won't" You said, holding him tighter.

"[Name], get the fuck out!" He said an octave louder, pushing you away "The last thing I want now is your pity. And I don't want you to see me like this, either" Ever the proud man he was, hatred laced his voice — and even though you knew it wasn't directed at you and that he didn't mean it, it still hurted.

"I won't leave you. And I don't pity you" You sincerely stated.

"So why the fuck you're looking at me like this?" Hazel irises squinted at you, the hands clutching your shoulder tightened their grip — the hold on your right felt a lot more stronger.

"I'm worried" And then, he laughed.

Hysterically.

Almost scaringly.

"Why waste your time, huh?" You tried to retort, he beated you to it.

"Why bother with a failure for a boyfriend, hm?"

"Eita"

"What's left to you, huh? I bet you're leaving me now that my fucking career went downhill and I won't be famous anymore" The venom of his words scorched your ears.

Throwing insults at you, Semi didn't measure his words and nor did you measure your actions. A second after, all the two of you felt was the stinging flesh.

Of your hand.

Of his cheek.

"So you'll just sit here and cry?" You grabbed him by the collar, eyes boring into his "Shirabu himself said there was a chance. Are you giving up this easily?"

"Shirabu said there was a slight chance" He corrected you, saliva was sprayed over your skin when he screamed at your face.

"And you'll just take it, giving up without a try?" You were so done. The Semi you knew wasn't a spineless man who gave up so easily.

"You don't know how it feels!" He cracked again, the cry went past his mouth, wavering on the air. Your features softened as your hands moved upwards, cradling his face.

"I don't" The words came ragged "But please, don't give up without pulling out a good fight. You're not acting like yourself"

"It's just so hard. You don't get how empty I feel" The man before you was nothing like your Eita.

"For fuck's sake, Eita. Try the surgery and if it doesn't work, wait for the physical therapy results. If it still doesn't work, learn to play with the other hand, goddammit" You leaned onto him, joining your foreheads "Just don't give up. Back to our Shiratorizawa years, you said you wanted to rely on your own strength to show you abilities, because you desire to do things were always too strong. You prided yourself for being free when showing off, then why are you letting this situation hold you down?"

"It's hard. It's like I'm dying, but feels much more worse than that" Words came in a whisper, still reluctant to consider the options.

"But did you die? Did your talent die?" You lightly shook his body, trying to infuse some energy into it "Did you, all of sudden, forget how to make music?" And he saw determination painted in the hue of your irises.

"But—" He tried to argue.

"No buts, even if you can't play in the band, you can still be a producer. Don't let life reap your art away from you" You pleaded, hoping your words could somehow touch him.

Peeking into his face, you observed its features softening as you felt his muscles relaxing under your palms and your boyfriend reciprocating your loving touches.

Your heart was finally at ease.

"How come you always know what to say in the right time, even if it's cliché as fuck?" Eyelids covered the orbs you loved so much as the words were spoken in a serene mode. 

Semi Eita felt peace.

You tucked the broader body inside of your arms, caressing the lean muscles of his shoulders.

"There's a reason why, other than my pretty face, I'm your muse" He playfully scoffed at you, tightening the hold on your waist.

"Who said you are?" You ignored his words, paying attention to the hair locks under your chin "[Name]?" He started uncertain.

"Hm?"

"You're right. Guess if I didn't die in the accident, it's only fair if I don't let my life as an artist go away either" His soft-spoken words meant everything to you.

Relief washed over you as your heartbeat increased in your chest. But the most important was how you could feel Semi's heart beating again.

I'm in my workroom, it's my studio/ The waves go darkly by in a throe/ But I'll never get dragged away again

Taglist: @anseoo @keiijiis @inarizakikoukou @deerixiie @bristil @maramalademadara @thedreadthreadanomaly @catharsisbabey @aprettyfruit @ttsukii @chasekudo @kenmashoe @daijoubuyuki @krusty-cheetahs @ohmythatmiya

#semi eita x reader #semi eita x y/n #semi eita x you #semi eita scenario #semi eita imagine #semi eita hcs #semi eita haikyuu #semi eita headcanons #semi x reader #semi x you #semi x y/n #semi imagine #semi scenario #semi hcs #semi headcanons #semi hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu collab #haikyuu!! #haikyuu semi #haikyuu semi eita #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #f.l.y #haikyuu x bts collab #knights of the coconut

[justabstractthings]

Wisteria | Shinso x Reader

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m super late but here it my part for the Flowers bnharem server collab! Please don’t forget to check out everyone’s pieces because they are amazing and everyone worked really hard on them! I hope you enjoy every single one of them!

Wisteria signifies obsession, passionate love, longevity, and immortality.

The Wisteria Maiden: Fuji Musume (“Wisteria Maiden”) is a famous classical dance from Japan. The story begins in Otsu, a city famous for its painting. People would stroll along the streets admiring the artisans’ paintings. A painting of a wisteria maiden caught the eye of a male passerby. The Wisteria Maiden became infatuated with him. She became so infatuated that she came to life and stepped out of the painting. She wrote letters to her love; however, they go unanswered. Eventually, sadness and despair take over the heartbroken maiden and she returns to her painting.

Pebbles crunched under your feet as you trekked through the never-ending tunnel. Parents pulled their children along the path. Old and young couples strolled hand in hand. Most visitors had their phones out, taking pictures of themselves or the enchanting scenery. Nobody paid any mind to your meek form as you hugged your crossbody bag close to your heart.

Your eyes trailed up the sides of the tunnel until it reached the lavender and lilac hues that dangled and covered the entire structure. A deep breath introduced a sweet familiar scent as it wafts through the air. It provided a sense of calm through your body as you continued your journey through the fairy tale like surroundings. 

With a smile on your face, you reached into your bag and pulled out your weapons of choice: a sketchbook and a pencil. When inspiration strikes, you are not one to back down from a challenge. Most people prefer to capture their inspiration with their phones, but it never compares to the brush of a pencil as you transfer the beauty of nature from reality to the sketchbook on your arm. 

Even with the crowds of people walking along the path, this was where you were most at ease. Surrounded by the blossoming flowers as they dangled along the ceiling. Their white, lilac, and lavender colors promised tranquility as you continued to sketch a life-like portrait of their beauty. 

Unfortunately, you were forced out of your reverie. A sharp jolt from your back caused you to drop your tools, your calm mind forced into a state of surprise and fear. 

“Oh sorry,” a deep but weary voice caused you to turn, sketchbook forgotten for just a moment. He looked confident but unsure. His shoulders squared back and hands buried in his pockets. Caring but aloof eyes diverted away from your face. But what stuck out to you the most was his unruly hair. His deep purple locks stood out in contrast to the shades of lavender that surrounded him like a halo. 

Another sight to capture. 

Your heart hammered against your chest. Hands shaking as the need to sketch overpowered your initial surprise. Before you could reach for your fallen sketchbook, the boy leaned down and grabbed the book off the ground.

Anxiety washed over you like waves violently crashing against the shore at the thought of another person seeing the sketches you had hidden in your book. But he never gave a second glance as he promptly placed the book in your hands and silently continued his stroll.

It took you a second to jump back into reality. Without another thought, you quickly grabbed another pencil and furiously sketched the boy. Afraid that a few more seconds would cause you to forget his features. With each stroke of your pencil, it was like the boy never left your sight. Details ranged from his gravity-defying deep purple locks to the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Here he was. Brought to life against the soft surface of your paper. Immortalized through your art.

A soft breeze blew through the tunnel causing the flowers above your head to sway to and fro. Your eyes trailed toward the direction that the purple haired boy disappeared. The whispering wisterias softly promised against your ear. You would see the boy again. One day. But for now, you had your sketchbook nestled against your arm.

The next day, you found yourself sitting under the towering form of a wisteria tree. Its looming branches and hanging flowered vines created a lavender curtain between the enchanting tranquility and the never ending harsh reality of the world.

Last night, your sketches ranged from the wisterias to the mysterious boy. Your wrist ached, evidence of the multiple completed sketches contained in your book. Shades of purple occupied your mind. Usually, your mind would stop racing after a few sketches throughout the day. Since the day before, your thoughts never diverted away from the purple-haired boy. 

You flipped through your book until you found another sketch of the mysterious boy. It was a bit difficult but you tried to imagine what he would look like with a side profile. His purple eyes stared off into the distance with wisterias blowing in the background. You captured the inquisitive look in his aloof eyes. You ripped the page off the book and flipped it towards the back blank page. You scribbled a few words.

Enigma. An uncaring presence on the outside, but with a thoughtful and kind heart. An enigma.

As an artist, you understood the importance of being able to capture the very essence of your piece even with just a short amount of time to study it. Under your eyes, they become an open book. However, he was a puzzle. And you spent all night piecing him together to understand how his outside appearance contraindicated his inner thoughts.

But it would do you no good to dwell on him further. Today was another day of enjoying the wisterias blooming around you. You flipped to a new page on your sketchpad as you studied the tree’s hanging flowers above your head. They waved at you as you began to sketch their beauty.

“That’s really good.”

Your head shot up. You clutched your sketchbook close to your chest as you stared into the same tired and weary eyes from the day before. The purple-haired boy was crouched less than a foot away from you. His eyes trailed from the clutched sketchbook to your wide-eyed face.

“Sorry I scared you.” His baritone voice surrounded you like a warm blanket during the chilly winter. His small frown sent a pang through your heart. A deep need to see him smile overcame your previous alarm.

“It’s ok,” you murmured as you clutched the sketchbook tighter against your chest.

“Can I take a look?” 

Before you could even comprehend your next actions, you let out a small squeak, grabbed your belongings, and hurried away. Small droplets of water streamed down your face as the fear of revealing yourself became quite apparent. 

When you found a new wisteria tree, you leaned against its strong trunk. Your heart felt like it would burst out of your chest at any moment. Your chest tightened as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped down the fear that shook your very core. Eyes burning as the last few tears threatened to release themselves. 

You ruined your chance with the purple-haired boy. 

Fear overpowered your desire.

You dropped down onto the floor as your shaky hands grabbed another pencil from your bag. When you opened a blank page on your sketchbook, your eyes stared into the white abyss of the paper. Your hand immediately stopped shaking as you began to sketch out the boy’s face once more. He was so close that you were able to find more features to include in your sketches. His dark circles were deeper than you first thought. A bit more muscular but still lean. When he asked a question, he titled his head slightly towards the right. Almost like a cat. 

A light smile adorned your face as you looked into the unblinking dark purple eyes . You didn’t notice before, but he had white pupils. Enchanting just like the wisteria hanging above your head. 

“One day,” you whispered as a light breeze flew through the air. 

After a few minutes of rest, you decided that it was time to return home. As you flipped your sketchbook closed, you realized that one page was missing. The ripped page. You must have left it after running away. You quickly shoved all of your belongings into your bag as you hurried back. 

When you returned to the wisteria tree, the boy and your paper were nowhere to be seen. You searched around the area and there was no trace. Dread covered you like a blanket as you began to imagine the worst kind of reaction if the boy found your sketch of him.

Would he think you were a stalker?

Would he ever speak to you again?

Was that the last time you would see him?

You gulped down your fears as you began the trek back home. Sadness washed over you at the thought of the mysterious purple haired boy. Another inspiration lost in the wind. But now it seemed like you were the cause of his absence. 

Inspiration has never hit you this hard. Your heart raced everytime you sketched his feathers. It took all of your concentration to keep your hands from shaking as you brushed vibrant purple on the page. Finally, your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the finish piece. Your cheeks reddened under his unblinking gaze. He never said a word. Never judged you. Never left you.

You passed through the never ending tunnels once more. It was later in the day so there were less people enjoying the wisteria blossoms. It was quieter. You listened to the whistling breeze as it blew through the tunnel. You reached above your head to softly caress the dangling flowers. 

They provided a calm presence to your aching heart. They would always be there. Forever and always.

When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. The boy was still here, leaning against the cage wall that separated the tunnel from the endless greenery behind it. But what stuck out to you the most was the paper. That was currently in his hand. That he was currently studying.

You watched as he flipped the paper back and forth, going from the drawing to the words. A deep pang of fear pounds on your chest with each flip.

Then you saw it.

A smile.

You felt your cheeks reddened. Even though you’ve only met him twice, this was a rare sight to see. Every time you tried to sketch a smile on his face, it was tricky. It never looked right. Always looked out of place. It seemed that your creative mind could not even fathom what a smile would look like on his face. 

That is until now.

It was small. Anybody else would have thought he just stopped frowning. But you could see a small lift up the corners of his mouth, a crinkle on his nose, and a twinkle in his dark purple eyes. His face looked more relaxed. Still tired, but more serene. 

This was the last piece of your puzzle. Everything made perfect sense. Maybe he wasn’t much of an enigma as you first thought. 

But just as fast as his smile appeared, it vanished. The purple haired boy folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. He was gone once more.

You let out a deep sigh as you tried to control your fluttering heart. You pressed your hand to your face as you tried to hide your reddened cheeks and wide smile. 

He smiled. 

Your painting made him smile.

He liked your painting.

From that moment on, you vowed to yourself that you would see his smile once more. 

Your initial fear of revealing your art disappeared. It was overpowered by your desire and passion to see the purple haired boy smile and enjoy your paintings. You rarely shared your works with others, afraid that they may judge you or deem your paintings hideous. But he changed that. Seeing him smile at your painting made you want to show him more and see his reactions. 

Inspiration struck you once again. 

The very next day, you found yourself sitting under the same wisteria tree. Your eyes focused on the sketchbook sitting on your lap as you drew the crowds of people walking along the gardens. A young girl pulling her mother towards the hanging wisterias and pointing eagerly at them. An elderly group of ladies slowly walking through the path and enjoying nature’s tranquility. A young couple strolling hand in hand as they smiled at one another. 

As you were finishing up your outline, you felt a familiar presence standing above you. From the corner of your eyes, you saw him take a seat to your left as he silently waited for you to finish. You smiled as you studied the page. All it needed as a splash of color, but that could wait.

You looked up from your lap and gave him a small smile. 

The boy visibly gulped and looked away from your face, the familiar deep frown adorning his face. “Sorry about yesterday and the day before.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled as you reflexively hugged your sketchbook against your chest. The need to run enveloped your whole body, but you forced yourself to sit and stay. You didn’t want to ruin another chance with him.

He let out a grunt and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it towards you. “I think this is yours. I found it after you left.”

Your eyes blinked owlishly as you stared at the piece of paper. Your mind immediately thought back to his smile from yesterday. You shook your head. “Keep it.”

He nodded and shoved the paper back into his pocket. “It’s really good.” You look up at him in confusion. He coughed into his fist. “Your painting. It’s really good.”

You smiled down at your lap as you slowly released your constrictive hold on your sketchbook. “Do you, um, do you want to see?” With shaky hands, you revealed your latest sketch. However, you immediately regretted your decision. You bit your lip as you eyes trailed over the hideous mistakes that marred the paper. An awkward stance. An ugly smudge. An unfinished piece. But it was too late. Your sketchpad was already in his hands. You prepared yourself for the negative comments you knew would come your way.

“You’re really talented.” Your eyes widened in disbelief as you looked at the purple haired boy. While he appeared to give off an aloof presence, his enchanting eyes held a different meaning. What an enigma.

You smiled at him and quietly thanked him as you took your sketchpad back. You flipped to another page and ripped out your finished painting of the wisteria tunnel. He raised a brow as he watched you scribble something on the back of the paper. You folded the piece of paper and shoved it into his hand. 

By the time he opened the paper, you had your sketchpad nestled in your arm and bag slung on your shoulders. It was time to go. 

“Wait!” You turned back around and felt your heart skip a beat. There it was again. His smile. The wind blew a light breeze that caused the hanging wisterias to wave back and forth around both of you. But your senses were solely focused on his smile and that way it made your heart flutter once again. “Shinso. Shinso Hitoshi.”

You smiled back at him and made your way back into the garden. A silent promise was made under the hanging wisteria vines. A promise to see each other once again. 

#shinso hitoshi #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso fluff #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #flower collab #wisteria #bnha server collab #my writing #just abstract things

[marvelousell]

The Agreement (Part 10.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: This one really made me so soft even though I wasn’t feeling this part because I was loaded with work and every word didn’t seem good after I wrote it, but I’m kinda happy how it turned out in the end. Also the end is coming, just a few more parts and honestly I’m not ready🤧. Thank you for all the lovely feedbacks, reblogs and comments, I always appreciate every single one of them.❤️

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, swearing, tiny bit of angst

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Add yourself to my tag list

Masterlist

“Did you like, talk to him or saw him for the last couple of days?”

It was already a week. A prolonged week without a call, message, visit, anything. Tom made sure he wanted nothing to do with you after your short and direct words, and it broke your heart.

You were confused, a complete mess, nothing felt the same after the door was shut that night. You were waiting for Tom to finally acknowledge you after all those years, but it looks like it wasn’t the right time. He was your best friend, how could you function like you used to when he wasn’t here to listen to your stupid stories and rambling. Tom was your routine, someone who could always make your day better with the tedious stories about his so-called love life. And the fact that he didn’t want you back in his life like his best friend made you think if he ever even cared about you.

Still it was for the best.

“Tom? Yes, he was at Harry’s yesterday with us.” Anna answered.

She knew something was wrong, you were asking questions about him for the past few minutes and yesterday Tom didn’t want to answer anything that was related to you.

“Oh.” You wanted to go, but you were definitely not ready to see him, everything was still fresh for the both of you. Also the thought of him ignoring you and not wanting to talk to you would sure make you cry right there in front of everyone. You just weren’t ready.

“He was there with Gracie, who would have thought that our famous womanizer could settle down.” She laughed, trying to cheer you up, however she made the situation even worse for you.

Gracie? So the date went well after all, and now they are together. He was serious about that, but not about you.

Your throat tightened after her words, teeth deep in your lower lip, trying to stop the urge to cry that was forming in your whole body.

“Gracie? They are dating now o-or?” You stuttered, still refusing to look at Ann because she would figure everything out, she knew you like the back of her hand.

“Yeah, I think so? Did something happen?” She questioned, brows furrowed while she was waiting for your answer.

You were addled, this situation was eating you up and you just wanted to talk about it with her.

“No.” You said quietly, debating if you should tell her the truth.

“Good, now the truth please.”

Of course she didn’t buy that.

“Nothing, we just had a little fight and we’re not talking at the moment.” It was the truth, but not the entire one.

“A fight? How and why? That’s why he didn’t want to talk about you yesterday.”

He didn’t?

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to talk about it if that’s okay. I’m sorry.” Your voice thick, emotions flying everywhere.

“Don’t worry Y/N you two are like yin and yang, two opposite worlds but you complete each other perfectly. You are best friends and believe me he can’t function without you as much as you can’t without him.” Her arms wrapped around your shoulders, telling you through the hug how things were going to be alright.

“I hope so, if he doesn’t put Gracie as his first priority because she is someone that he needs now.” Anna sensed a pang of jealousy in your voice, but she didn’t want to point it out still unsure about that.

“No one can break a bond like that, just like ours. Tom and you will make things right in no time.”

“Thank you Ann, please don’t tell Harrison about this. I just told him that I wasn’t feeling well so I couldn’t come yesterday. I don’t want him to think that I don’t believe him enough to say my problems to him or something like that. I really like him.”

“Tell him what?” She smiled, acting like the conversation didn’t even happen.

“Thank you Ann.”

-

“Should I just leave to let you admire her? I don’t want to collect your eyes when they fall out from too much staring.” Anna joked, finally realizing that she was talking to herself for the last thirty minutes.

“I’m sorry, she is so distracting. Can’t keep my eyes off of her.” Harrison chuckled, feeling embarrassed that he got caught.

But he couldn’t help himself, you looked arresting like always. Your new hair style looked amazing, and the familiar pastel dress was making you look angelic. You were talking to Amelia, laughing your heart out and not to stare was a big difficulty for him. Your smile warmed his heart and he could sit here the whole night looking at you.

He was sure that he was in love. Absolutely in love, and everybody could see it as well.

Harrison wasn’t the guy that kept his feelings a secret, if he had the chance he would scream to every single person how much he was in love and how happy you made him feel.

“You know, I’m so elated for you two. Seeing you so content after everything, and her beaming around you is enough.” Anna began, looking at you two exchanging small grins and glances.

“And the fact that you don’t hide your love for her is something that makes you special.” She added, tapping his shoulder.

“I love her, I do truly. I wanted to tell her so many times, but I’m afraid that for her it will be too soon.” Harrison explained. He wanted to say the words multiple times when you two would snuggle in your bed, having small talks about everything, but he was scared that maybe you would think it was too soon, just like Emily did. That maybe he would make things feel awkward in your relationship.

Emily was on his mind recently a lot. Harrison reassured himself that she should not make him feel like this. You were an angel, you were nothing like her.

“Listen, I know Y/N since we were little and I know more about her then she does. Y/N is a hopeless romantic, nothing is to soon for her. Take my advice show her how much you love her. She feels the same.”

Show her how much.

“Having fun you two, did Anna finish her ramble time?” Both you and Amelia approached the small table in the kitchen where they were sitting at.

Harrison’s arms were fast, bringing you in his lap. The giggles were making his heart stutter, he held you close to his body like he was afraid that you were going to leave.

“Tonight I was my own ramble buddy, because our boy couldn’t stop staring at his stunning lady.” Anna answered, sending you a wink.

In just three weeks Harrison showed you everything, made you realize how much in love you were with him and that he was the one who was worth your time. The first week was rough without the brunette boy that always lit a spark in you. But Harrison, even if he didn’t know the truth, made sure your day with him was filled with nothing but pure happiness. He was patient with you and even when you would say that you were not in the mood because you were not feeling well, he would always held you close, cherish you like he had the magic to suck out every bad thought.

It was his kind heart and endless love that made you stop overthinking about someone who didn’t even bother to call after everything that happened. You both deserved unconditional love and you made it clear to yourself that you would give that, just like it was given to you.

Your arms were around his neck, cheek pressed against his head and you were grinning from ear to ear.

“She is my beautiful girl, of course I can’t keep my eyes off of her.” He showed his white teeth, smiling broadly at you.

Harrison’s palm was on your inner thigh, stroking your soft skin rhythmically. Your sweet scent filled his nostrils as he leaned his face near the crook of your neck to place an innocent peck there.

“You’re so sweet.” He mumbled, Anna and Amelia now long gone leaving the two of you to have some privacy.

“And you’re adorable, I want to kiss you all the time.” You brought his face close to yours, kissing him gently on the lips.

Harrison squeezed your thigh, the other hand lingering on your back. Every kiss was better than the previous one, and the feeling of your warm lips sent goosebumps down his spine.

“My girl.” He said, giving you a one last peck.

“Want to take you home now.” Harrison added, Anna’s words replaying in his head.

“No one’s stopping us.”

The smile grew wider, and the excitement was rushing through his body. No one could do this to him like you did.

-

“I swear evenings like this make me more exhausted than parties.” It was just a friendly invite to Harry’s house, nothing special, you all did that frequently. Tom wasn’t there, Gracie was sick and as a caring boyfriend he didn’t want to leave her side.

You didn’t want to say anything, if it was the truth good for him because he finally showed how he can keep a girl and if he was lying, well..that was his problem.

“The only good thing is when we come home after it and just enjoy the rest of our night.” You weren’t living together but your home was his and his was yours.

Harrison’s arms travelled to your sides, palms placed firmly on your belly holding you close to him. He knew how you loved hugs like this, relaxing your head on his chest while stroking his arm slowly.

Tonight he wanted to show you not just tell you how much he cared about you and most importantly how much he loved you.

You exhaled through your nose after you felt his lips press a light kiss behind your ear. He continued, peppering your neck with kisses going down to your shoulder. The time stopped, his lips were the only thing that you could think of, a hum escaping from your mouth after he slowly pushed the dress so he could kiss your shoulder.

“You’re an angel.” He whispered, smiling against your skin feeling nervous like he never did before.

“I have been distracted the whole night with your beauty, I’m so lucky.” He added, turning you around so he could see your face.

“I’m way luckier, you made everything better.” You said softly, pressing your hands on his chest feeling his chaotic heartbeat.

Your heart was racing as well, from exhilaration, contentment, love.

The night will be special, you wanted this to happen but you were worrying that it would be all too soon just like he did. You both wanted this first time to be memorable.

“It makes me so elated to call you mine.” His hands grabbed each side of your face, thumbs running up and down your cheeks.

The huge grin on his face could make everything better in a second, and he made you feel so desirable at that moment. Your lips fitted like a puzzle, it was a beautiful match.

“Please let me show you how much I care.” He said before he kissed you passionately again.

“Show me.” You were craving his touch, and you didn’t want to procrastinate this.

That was enough for Harrison to send positive shivers down his spine, picking you up to guide you both to the bedroom.

The small tug on his shirt made him smile during your kiss, you were both impatient.

He wanted to make this night about you only.

The soft fingertips were dancing on your skin, removing your dress carefully. He could feel your shyness mixing with your neediness.

“It’s okay beautiful, don’t cover yourself. Love every inch of you.” He stated, running his hand down your body, placing kisses all over it to show how much he admired you.

“You’re beautiful. So beautiful.” He repeated, feeling the need to let you know every second how gorgeous you really were.

“I want you.” You whined, bringing him back up close to you, kissing his lips steadily.

“Tonight is about you.” He spoke against your lips, his hot breath tickling your skin.

The ache between your legs was becoming distracting for you and all you needed was his touch on your pulsing core.

Harrison was feeling the same, his jeans became tight all of a sudden. The erection throbbed inside his boxers, and the thoughts about you wrapped around him sent waves of excitement.

“Oh shit.” You cursed, relaxing in his arms.

He cupped your breasts giving them a slight squeeze. Your hand was on his wrist, trying to move it to your hard nipples. Harrison got the message but he still took his time.

His body lowered down, face near your chest leaving open-mouthed kisses, stopping when his lips came near your areola. He was already amazed by you, your body was like the most beautiful painting that left him speechless.

The whines and moans were becoming more audible as his fingers came to your breasts to play with the erect nipple. Your skin was so smooth and delicate against his touch, it was making him go insane.

“Please Haz, more.” You begged, his lips capturing yours.

“It’s all about you angel, don’t worry.” He said in between kisses, your back arching when his palm came in contact with your clothed heat.

“Need me here?” He asked, moving his fingers in a slow motion, teasing the clit accidentally.

You hummed in response, removing his shirt and jeans so you both were half naked.

Small kisses were left on your body as he travelled down to your pussy that was already begging for his attention. Harrison wanted you to memorize every touch of his, every kiss and every move.

The panties were removed leisurely, thighs spread so he had a great view of everything.

You were showing him all of you, every sensitive and intimate part and nothing made him more happier than the realization that you trusted him. For Harrison it was the most important thing.

“My sweet girl, you taste heavenly.” He admitted, licking long stripes on either sides of your pussy, concentrating on your clit after it.

“My God Harrison.” Your fingers were in his curls tugging on them slightly.

His tongue and mouth were working together perfectly, causing your nerves to go wild every time he would suck on your clit gently.

“You’re my sweet one, am I right?”

“Only yours.” You choked out, feeling your climax approaching.

“I promise I will let you cum on my tongue as much as you want to, but now I want to feel you cum around me, please.” He pleaded lowly, pressing soft kisses on your pussy and inner thighs.

“Please, want that too.” You swallowed half of the words, closing your eyes.

He could say that he was practically addicted to your lips, the desire to kiss you every second was high. Your lips moved against each other hotly, soft wincing mixing with his moans.

“I love you.” He finally blurted out. He finally said what he intended to say a long time ago. The pounding in his chest was so hard and loud that you could definitely hear it.

“I love you. Let me show you how much angel.” Words replaying like a broken record in your ears, a genuine smile creeping upon your face.

You wanted to respond but his lips were already on yours, hand going down to his shaft.

“May I?” He breathed near your earlobe while his other palm was caressing your body.

Harrison was gentle, always. Always asking for consent, always checking if everything was fine and always making sure that you were satisfied, just like he was.

That was something that Tom didn’t show, or at least was afraid to show. Maybe you weren’t the one that deserved that.

You were once again lost in your thoughts instead of enjoying this lovely moment between you two.

His tip was already in, bringing you back to reality. Your toes curled from the feeling, it was slow and passionate a total difference from him.

“Are you good angel?” He questioned, brushing your cheek tenderly.

“So good, please move.” You grabbed his palm, kissing his knuckles.

Harrison pushed inside of you steadily, his free hand clenching your hips. The warmth from your walls was a whole new and pure feeling, and breathing was suddenly an unknown term for him.

“God, you take me so well. You’re amazing.” His words made you weak.

He began to move his member slowly. Your bodies moved superbly, his eyes were focused on you and on his shaft that was sliding in and out of your glistening core.

Your eyes were fixed on him the whole time, and all you could think of was how ready you were to say those three words.

Harrison’s chest was now on yours, and before he could close the space between your lips you cupped his cheeks to stop him.

“I love you.” Your sweet voice spoke in between the moans.

“I love you Harrison.” You repeated yourself, placing a kiss on top of his lips.

It was like he was dreaming, everything with you seemed like the most beautiful dream.

The smile on his face said everything. He kissed you hungrily, giggles escaping from your mouth.

You were so content tonight, he was making you feel so good, but he also wanted to show how pretty you were, inside and out.

“Fuck, you close love?” He asked, his movements increasing in speed, trying to bring you to the edge.

You nodded, tugging his hair and clenching around his hard member. You moaned loudly as the orgasm washed over you, your hips grinding against his.

“Beautiful.” He never saw no one looking that beautiful while coming for him.

Harrison’s thrusts grew sloppier, his climax was close, so close.

“I’m here beautiful.” He groaned, kissing you once again, coating your tight walls.

You both were whining from the feeling, moving your lips lazily while he still stayed inside of you.

After your breathing slowed down, and your bodies stopped to shake from pleasure, you both smiled at each other.

“I really love you.” He said, brushing your hair slowly with his fingers, placing a peck on your forehead.

“I love you too. Thank you.”

“Let me take care of you now.” Harrison spoke, picking you up bridal style, moving to the bathroom.

“You’re crazy.” You screeched, both of you giggling uncontrollably.

“Only for you.”

-

Harrison ran you both a bath, filling it with everything you wanted and had in the bathroom.

It was an intimate moment, bodies so close but there was no need for more at the moment.

Your back was pressed on his chest, head resting on his shoulder, the position you adored the most. His hands were all over you, stroking your skin tenderly.

“You are incredible Y/N, you really make me happy, you really do.” He broke the silence, pecking your neck multiple times.

“I should thank you for trusting me and showing me what love really is.” You added, turning around to wrap your arms around the nape of his neck.

Harrison had everything he needed, and he hoped that nothing and no one could take that away from him.

It was just you, him and your love.

-

Tag List

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#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland blurb #tom holland au #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield au #harrison osterfield angst #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield blurb #fwb!tom #fwb!au #frat boy!tom #elli writes #The Agreement series

[downondilaudid]

Eighteen

Spencer and reader are childhood friends, the reader coaxes Spencer into attending her high school reunion, but not for the reason he was expecting. 

HUGE THANKS to @hkinmydna we wrote this together, and I couldn’t have done it without her, I love her so much <3

Requested: @jellijinnie

Prompts: “I can’t wait to grow old with you.” & “I have loved you since we were eighteen.” 

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff

“Guys are accessories, until one proves he's a necessity” - Source unknown

Dear Spencer,  

I received your last letter, I’m so glad to hear Diana is doing well! Business at the bakery has been pretty slow. But, it’s almost wedding season, so business will pick up soon! I mean, nothing ever truly slows down in Vegas. Speaking of  Vegas, my high school reunion is coming up, and I’m absolutely dreading it. 

High school was an absolute nightmare, I’m sure the same goes for you. Lydia, a friend of mine from high school, is begging me to go. I’m just not sure, everyone’s going to be married, with kids, and I own a fucking bakery, Spencer. On top of that, my love life is dead, I won't even have a date. I’m not sure who I would ask, I can’t even pay a man to date me. 

Enough about my boring problems, how’s life at the BAU? I hope it’s not too stressful, I know how hard it can be on you. 

Yours Sincerely,

Y/N.

•••

Dear Y/N,

I’m sure your job has its own thrills. You’re right about the bakery business booming soon; June is the most popular month for weddings, with 10.8% occurring during that time. Studies also show that brides typically focus the most attention on planning their attire, closely followed by their caterer. Not to mention, Las Vegas happens to have the most weddings per year, at over 114,000, so I assume your bakery will be in high demand in the next month. 

I happen to remember Lydia, actually. She had bright red highlights in her hair when she graduated high school. It really stuck out to me when you let me look through your yearbook. I think you should go. You’re obviously pining for a date, though, so it seems that maybe I should pay our old high school a visit. Since I’d love to accompany you anyway, I might as well get some closure. 

The BAU is the same as always, but I could use a break. Send me the details of the reunion, maybe?

Sincerely, 

Spencer.

•••

You checked the gate number multiple times, A24, A24, A24. Your head tilted up, eyes searching for the big blue sign. Shit, A22, definitely the wrong gate. 

“Ugh, goddammit” you cursed, your hand wrapping around the gear shift, throwing your car into drive, a little more aggressively than needed. You placed your hands on the wheel, ten and two, anxiety rolling off you in waves. You shouldn't have been this nervous, you had known Spencer all your life. 

It started when you were nine. Your mom had finally decided to let you roller skate to the park a few blocks away, much to your father’s disapproval, and it stirred up crazy anticipation in you. This was going to be your first big adventure as a big girl. As soon as you left the driveway, you felt adrenaline pump through your veins. You had skated to the park a million times, but this time had been different. When you arrived, the park was mostly deserted, aside from a frail, pale boy sitting at a chess table. 

You pulled off your skates, bounding across the grass excitedly. As a child you’d always been friendly, maybe a little too friendly. 

“Hey!” You greeted, plopping into the chair opposite of the boy.

The boy didn’t respond, too deep in thought, his tongue darting out to lick his pink lips.

“Whatcha’ doing?” You questioned, propping your elbows on the table, letting your head rest in your hands. 

“Chess” the boy replied simply, he seemed too interested in the game to even make eye contact. 

“You know it’s rude not to make eye contact. That’s what my mom always tells me.” 

The boy looked up, his big, black glasses sliding ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. “97% of school-aged children learn their manners from home. It’s the number one factor of civility. Did you know that?”

“Civil-what?” You were pretty sure this kid didn’t speak English. 

“Civility is basically etiquette,” he elaborated slowly, giving you the most basic definition he could think of. “It means you learn your manners from your parents. Later on in life it’ll help you develop your own moral compass.”

You just blinked, this kid was definitely not from earth, and was definitely not speaking English. But you sat there anyway, letting him speak his mind and listening intently, although you didn’t understand all of it. He also began teaching you chess that day, since he saw you as an opportunity to play with an actual partner instead of studying the board alone. 

From then on you and Spencer were attached by the hip, you were enamored with his vast knowledge of the world, and he enjoyed teaching you. 

You jumped when a knock resounded through the car, “Holy-Jesus, fuck.” Your hand flew to your chest in shock, your head whipping to the right to see who so rudely brought you out of your pensive state. 

Spencer stood at the window, a smile on his face, you could tell he was laughing. His intention definitely wasn’t to scare you, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. The shock wore off, and with the shake of your head you were laughing too. You unlocked the car, your previous anxiety fading away. 

“You should’ve seen your face!” Spencer giggled. 

“Yeah, yeah, get in, Rooks.” You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face. 

“Actually, did you know, every chess piece was meant to have symbolism, and the rook was the walls of the castle or the chariot. Calling it a castle is outdated, though.” He smirked a bit. “So what does it mean when you call me Rooks?”

Your smile dropped slightly, attempting to think of a snide response. “I-I guess I just thought it sounded cool,” you came up with on the spot. “How was your flight?” You diverted. 

“I have to admit, it’s a little different than a government-issued private jet,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Oh, you and your fancy private jets. You’re too lucky, traveling around the world every week and all. I guess it’s not all that glamorous, though.” You grimaced, thinking about all the bodies he sees on a regular basis. He replied with only a smile and a nod. 

The rest of the drive was filled with chatter and inside jokes, and of course Spencer ranting about every topic. 

…

Spencer stumbled through your front door, his weariness becoming more and more obvious. “Please let me help you with your bags,” you begged him, but he denied that he needed help for the third time. 

“I’ve got it, Skates. Trust me.” He looked you straight in the eye, and you had to back down. 

“Fine, suit yourself” you mumbled, opening the door to reveal a flight of stairs. You smiled slightly at his use of your little childhood nickname. 

The trip up the stairs was… memorable, Spencer still refusing your help. He was so chivalrous sometimes. 

“So, there’s only one bed, but I can take the couch.” you mumbled, picking up a stray jacket you missed during your cleaning frenzy. 

“Y/N, I’ll take the couch, I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own home.” He had always been so insistent, even since you were children. It’s not that he had to get his way, but he had strong feelings that he couldn’t ever seem to shove aside. As much as you wanted to argue and be a good host, there was no arguing with Spencer Walter Reid. You nodded and went back downstairs, beginning to tidy up the pull-out couch for him. 

“So, what exactly is your plan for the reunion?” He asked while you fluffed up a pillow. 

“Well I was hoping you could help me with that, Rooks. Put that big beautiful brain of yours to use.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. He grinned shyly, not sure how to reply at first. 

“Did you know, on average, only around 20% to 30% of graduating students will attend their high school reunions.” Spencer stated. You paused, recognizing he was nervous. He may have been the profiler between the two of you, but you understood his behavior almost like the back of your hand. 

“I guess I’m part of that 20% then.” you said absentmindedly. “I’m still so hesitant about going, Spence. Everyone’s going to be married, and successful, and all they’re going to do is rub it in my face!” 

“Well, there’s no rule about these things that you have to be honest necessarily,” he said, implication looming behind it. 

“What are you saying?” you had an idea of what he was hinting at, but, you would never blatantly ask him. 

“I mean, we’ve been best friends for all our lives, would it be so wrong for us to act like a couple? People would totally believe it, and then you wouldn’t feel so alienated.” 

Bingo. “Spencer, I couldn’t possibly put you in that situation. You’ve already flown all the way out here to accompany me to a fucking high school reunion!” A pang of guilt ran through your bones, you had him right where you wanted him, but, he didn’t have to know that. 

“I’m already out here, why not have some fun with it? Come on, I want to see how people react.” He really had a knack for being convincing, but you didn’t need him to tell you twice. You were really excited to carry out this plan. 

“Well, I guess we could mess with people,” you said with a sly smile. “How does fiancé sound to you?”

Your nerves were back, you don’t think you’d ever been this dressed up in front of Spencer in your entire life. You were definitely slightly overdressed, but no one said you couldn’t look nice. Besides, it gave you a boost of confidence, which you would totally use to the best of your abilities. 

You looked in the mirror one last time, adjusting a few stray hairs, and confirming your lipstick wasn’t smudged. You twisted the ring on your left ring finger, it felt foreign, but it looked beautiful. It was your grandmother's old ring, it had a gold, double band, with a single large diamond perched right on top. It was Spencer’s idea to pass it off as an engagement ring. You finally felt your plan starting to fall into place. 

He met you in the corridor, looking well-dressed and as smug as ever. It had been forever since the two of you got to spend some quality together, much less have your own little adventure. 

You grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder, urging Spencer to follow you out your front door and to the car. He quickly beat you to the driver’s side door, opening it for you. “God, you can’t resist being a gentleman for even a minute, can you?” 

He smiled softly, like he always did, and hopped into the passenger seat eagerly. 

…

As excited as you were to play domestic life with Spencer, watching your past friends and acquaintances walk into the event center with husbands and wives on their arms definitely stirred up some nerves. 

“Spencer, I don’t know if I can do this.” You admitted. 

“Absolutely not, Skates. You didn’t drag me all the way out here just to bail at the last second.” With that, Spencer opened his door, stepping out of the car. He once again beat you to the door, opening it before you could barely get your hand on the handle.

“Fuck you,” you said, grabbing his hand, allowing him to help you out of the car.

A smirk crossed his face, “I’m sure you have, we are engaged after all.” 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. This was going to be a long night. 

The confidence he gave you was apparent, because you nearly strutted into the venue with Spencer hanging off your arm like an accessory. You could get used to this. The reunion was at an event center: the same one where both your proms were held and all four homecoming dances. It was still familiar-looking as the two of you walked in, greeting the doorman warmly. 

The first person to approach you, coincidentally, was Lydia. Her once vibrant red hair now an elegant black, she looked spectacular. “Y/N!” She practically screamed, throwing her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug. You hugged her back almost as tightly. Although you’d continued living in Vegas after high school, almost nobody else you were friends with had done the same. It felt nostalgic to get a piece of normality back from your past. 

“I’m so glad you forced me to come,” you admitted to her.

“I’m glad I did too,” she agreed, her eyes flitting from you to your arm piece. “And who’s this?” Her grin was smug and prying for all the juicy details. 

“This is my fiancé, Spencer Reid,” you said and patted his arm lightly with your free hand. He didn’t budge, almost as if it were a natural move for you to make. 

“FIANCÉ?!” Lydia bubbled with excitement. “It’s about time we met then!” Her hand jutted out for a handshake.

Spencer laughed nervously, “the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually safer to kiss.” 

“Oh, okay” Lydia giggled, turning to you, “he’s charming.”

You laughed, covering your mouth slightly, “you’ll have to excuse him; he's not a flirt, he’s just a certified genius, IQ of 187 and all.” 

Lydia’s eyes lit up in shock. “Are you kidding? Stop pulling my leg, Y/N, you’re gonna make me jealous and upset that I didn’t bring a living encyclopedia along,” she scoffed. 

“I’m dead serious,” you said brightly, glancing over at Spencer. Pride filled your body somehow, although part of this situation wasn’t even the truth. 

“You know, the black hair suits you. Red highlights weren’t really your style,” Spencer said as an attempt to compliment Lydia. 

Lydia stared at him blankly. “How did you know I had highlights in high school?” She asked nervously, glancing at you in confusion. Spencer immediately realized his mistake. 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry I just saw your picture in Y/N’s yearbook one time and… I have an eidetic memory, actually, which causes me to-“

“He has the memory of an elephant,” you cut him off with a smile. Lydia laughed it off, but you could tell she was slightly uneasy. 

“He didn’t need anything else to fill his resume. God, next you’re gonna tell me he’s a lawyer or something.”

“Well, actually I work for the FBI. I’m a behavioral analyst,” he corrected her innocently. You nudged him in the arm a little too roughly, letting him know he was going a little overboard. 

“Sorry. He’s been needing to work on his humility,” you joked. 

Lydia laughed along, “it’s so great to see you again, Y/N, if you’ll excuse me for a moment I’m going to get a drink.” She smiled, before sashaying away to the beverage table. 

Spencer turned to you, brows furrowed, mouth open, ready to spout something off. 

Just then, your view of  Spencer was obstructed by an overly perky brunette with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Y/N” she screeched. 

Fuck fucking fuck. “Claire!” You exclaimed, a look of panic on your face, eyes flashing between Claire and Spencer, silently begging for his help. 

“How are you? You look great!” she said. Just then a man approached her, one of his arms wrapping loosely around her waist.

“I-I’m good! H-how about you?” fuck, where was Spencer. 

“We are great,” the man responded, pressing a kiss to Claire’s cheek. She giggled, patting his chest affectionately. 

“I’m sorry this is my boyfriend Liam, you’ll have to excuse him, he can never seem to keep his hands off me!” 

This bitch is dead. You laughed awkwardly praying to every god above Spencer would come to your rescue. 

“It’s not my fault, how am I supposed to control myself when you look so irresistible?” Liam chuckled, one hand coming up to grasp Claire’s chin, pecking her lips lightly. 

You looked at every corner for Spencer, needing him there to reassure you. As if on cue, he appeared from behind Claire and Liam, carrying two red solo cups delicately. 

“Sorry I disappeared for a bit, sweetheart, I grabbed you some punch,” he said and pressed the cup into your palm, seeming to notice how uncomfortable you were. You smiled at him in response, seeing your chance and immediately taking it. 

“Claire, this is my fiancé, Spencer.” You gestured to him and pulled him to you like a security blanket. “Spence, this is Claire and Liam,” you introduced smugly. One-upping Claire felt intoxicatingly good. 

“Oh, how lovely!” She responded, “then you know how it is, always a hassle to get them out of the house! Liam’s away with work so much I barely see him!” 

“Oh, what do you do, Liam?” You questioned. 

“He’s a firefighter! Always away saving people’s lives, my Liam” Claire butted in, her hand coming up to adjust Liam’s tie. 

“Actually, Spencer is always away on business too. He’s an FBI agent, which always has him taking cases in unpredictable places,” you explained, emphasizing the FBI agent part. Spencer looked at you with a hint of concern, and you knew he thought you were being too flamboyant. It served Claire right though, she’d been a total bitch to you ever since middle school. The way Spencer looked at you felt wrong, though. His face had fallen to almost a frown.

“Oh, wow, that’s spectacular! You really understand then, it’s so hard having Liam away, especially when he’s going back to college to get his masters degree, I never see him anymore!” Claire blurted, linking her arm with Liam’s.

You copied her movement, doing the same with Spencer, “Oh I completely understand, Spencer has three PHD’s, so I get it.” You flashed Claire a bright smile, so this is how she wants to play? 

Claire’s smile dropped for a fraction of a second, springing back ten times brighter. 

Spencer shot you a look, bringing you back to reality. You knew you were being petty, but you had dreamed about this moment since the seventh fucking grade. It was playing out like a dream; you had on a gorgeous dress with a gorgeous fiancé (he was kind of gorgeous, wasn't he?) and you got to give Claire a taste of her own medicine. 

Claire’s eye twitched slightly, as she turned to Spencer, “wow, you must be a very smart man!”

You reached your hand up to wrap around Spencer’s tie, pulling him impossibly closer to you before answering, “he is, I’m a very lucky woman.” With that you did something neither of you were expecting, using his tie, you pulled his head to yours, pressing your lips lightly against his. 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, before fluttering shut,  you felt his large hand on the small of your back, pulling you into him. You pulled away, and for a moment, you forgot this was fake, for a moment this was your reality, he was your fiancé. You smiled up at him, an unreadable expression of his face, “I can’t wait to grow old with you.”

Spencer’s face fell in shock. Maybe the kiss finally connected an unspoken bond between the two of you, but this came from nowhere. His eyes held something behind them, rage maybe? You hoped Claire couldn’t notice the uncomfortable tension building between the two of you. 

“Well, it was nice seeing you again,” she said awkwardly, pulling Liam by the arm as a cue to get the hell out of there. Damn. She felt it too. “I hope you and your fiancé have a nice night,” she smiled, but there was a bite of bitterness in it. Somehow it felt like you hadn’t gotten the last laugh after all as she left you standing next to Spencer. He was right beside you, but felt impossibly far away. 

“Can we step outside for a minute?”, he asked with a gulp. Fuck. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You muttered, wiping your clammy palms down the sides of your dress. Spencer’s hand wrapped around your arm, guiding you to the door. 

The cool Vegas air hit you both like a freight train, like a calm notion before the storm. As soon as you were secluded Spencer turned to you, a fire burning in his dark eyes. 

“What was that about?”, he asked you in a soft but forceful tone. 

“Wasn’t this our plan, Spence? It was your idea to do this so why are you suddenly uncomfortable doing shit that couples would do?” Your face was burning hot with frustration. 

“No, this isn’t what couples would do. This is what you would do to prove yourself to some stupid high school bully. It’s gross,” he spat at you. 

You ran a hand through your hair, definitely ruining the elaborate curls that took you an hour and a half. “Are you kidding me? Are you profiling me? At my high school reunion?” 

“It doesn’t take a profiler to realize you’re trying to prove you’re not incompetent, Y/N.” Spencer growled, his voice escalating. “I mean, why did you even mention the reunion in your letter if you didn’t want me to invite myself? You knew I would, and I feel like you’re just using me as a way to make yourself look better.” The last part of his sentence loomed over you and made the air stiffer. He paused before continuing, ���I’m not here to be your accessory or your trophy or whatever the fuck you want me to be. I came because I thought it would mean a lot to you and I wanted to be here for you, but obviously you just wanted to use me to prove a point over a high school grudge.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes welling with tears of frustration. You let out a groan, pushing your hair out of your face once again, “God, Spencer, I have loved you since we were eighteen.” 

Spencer was so aggravated that he was still breathing heavily, not able to reply immediately. Several emotions crossed his face: confusion, frustration, doubt, and relief. 

“Why do you think I own a business alone, and live alone, and never settle down, but still keep my little childhood best friend as a penpal? Has it never added up to you, Spence? I’ve loved you since we were kids! Some profiler you are,” you ended with a smirk. 

Spencer initiated the kiss this time, his hand swiftly grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips to yours with a hunger you’d never expected from the timid boy at the park. Your lips moved together in sync, you let your hands travel up his chest, wrapping loosely around the back of his neck.

You both pulled away, breathless, eyes meeting once more. Spencer grasped your chin lightly, “since we were kids, huh? Then prove it.” He whispered. 

“Alright,” you smiled. “Let’s get out of here.” You took his hand and led him to your car, hopping in the front seat confidently and turning the key in the ignition. Spencer pulled himself into the passenger seat and you began to pull away from the event center to a familiar part of town. 

“I think I like where this is headed.” Spencer’s grin widened and you couldn’t help but take your eyes off the road for a moment to bask in the glory of his genuine smile. 

You pulled the car into the completely empty parking lot of the park, turning off the car and letting yourself out. The two of you passed by the swings and slides instinctively and walked straight to one of the most significant places in Las Vegas; the chess board. 

You sat down in the chair, nostalgia running through your veins, Spencer sat opposite of you. “I may not have an eidetic memory, but I'll never forget the first time I laid my eyes on you. The lonely boy at the park, playing chess, of all things. There was never a specific moment I fell in love with you, it sort of just accumulated over the years. From your caring nature, and knack to put everyone’s needs before your own, to your gorgeous child-like smile that can light up the darkest of rooms, or the tender way you care for your mom, or children- God, Spence, your kids are going to be so lucky. One of my favorite things about you is your humility, Spencer, you are incredible, you’re a certified genius, and I don’t think I’ve heard you boast about your intelligence once in my entire life! Spencer, you are so special, there will never be another man on earth like you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like an accessory tonight, I guess I just enjoyed being in a relationship with you, even if it was fake. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I love you, Spencer, and I will never love anyone the way I love you.” 

He looked down with a shy smile. “Way to inflate my ego, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “You may have stumbled into my life, but I’m glad you did. I love you with every ounce that I can.”

You looked at the chess board in front of you. “So, what now?” 

“Now” Spencer said, standing up, dusting off his slacks. He held his hand out to you, and you took it giddily. “We go visit my mom.” 

You giggled, ”you’re such a mama’s boy, Rooks.” 

Spencer laughed as you began your walk back to the car, “yeah yeah, just don’t use me as an accessory this time,” he nudged you playfully with his arm. 

A smile fell permanently on your face, “trust me, you’re the finest accessory I’ve ever owned.”

Spencer smiled, stopping momentarily to pull you in for a quick kiss. “I love you, Skates.”

You beamed at him, hoping to commit this moment to memory, “I love you more, Rooks.”

#criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer #spencer reid #fluff #fanfic #spencerreid #bau

[quoth-the-sparrow]

Feelings? Who’s She, Never Heard Of Her

A Sanders Sides Fanfiction

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Crying

Pairings: Established Anxceit, Endgame Analoceit, Background Royality

Description: Logan catches feelings for not only one side, but two

Word Count: 3,060

You can also find this fic here on ao3

(I wrote this for @elfarmyenby)

Logan sat on the couch in the commons, book in hand. He was always the first one up in the mornings, and usually the silence was comforting. Being alone had never really bothered him before. He was able to sit and enjoy his book in peace and quiet. But lately, he’d had trouble focusing. Logan would find himself reading the same paragraph over and over. The silence started to feel less like a comfort and more like a heavy weight on his shoulders. Logan didn’t understand it at all. He didn’t know if this was something that could be researched, but going to one of the others made him feel sick to his stomach. There weren't a lot of options, but oh how he hated not understanding things.

He stood and stretched in an attempt to clear his head, and as he did so he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. “Hey, Lo. You doing alright?” It was Virgil, still in his pajamas, purple hair mussed from sleep.  

“Virgil, good morning. I’m fine, thank you,” he replied as he sat back down. “Did you sleep well?” Virgil nodded in response and sat on the floor, legs crossed and back against the couch. Logan couldn’t help but smile at his best friend and set his book down on the coffee table.

“Hey L, did you make coffee yet? I’m still sleepy and some caffeine would be great.” Virgil ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Logan expectantly. The logical side felt an unexpected tightening in his chest. He ignored it and said “I haven’t yet, but I can go ahead and start it now. Is anyone else awake?”

“Yeah, Dee should be heading down soon, and I heard Patton singing with Roman in his room so they’ll probably be down in a little bit too. Thanks, L, you’re the best.” Virgil gave Logan an easy smile and there it was again. That pang in his chest. Shoving the feelings aside, he muttered a “No problem” at Virgil and headed into the kitchen to make coffee.

The routine of the morning helped a little: Logan always made the coffee in the morning. The others preferred it when he made it, for some reason, and Logan was happy to oblige. He made just enough for the three of them who liked coffee, as not to waste any. Logan leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath. What was that pattern I always tell Virgil? In for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight…

He repeated this to himself until he felt steadier, then busied himself with other tasks he didn’t usually do. Water on the stove to boil for Roman and Patton’s morning tea, setting the table, taking out three coffee mugs from the cabinet. It was something concrete and ordered for him to focus on. Logic was what he was best at, after all.

He heard more footsteps and talking coming from the living room. He went to stand in the doorway and looked on. Virgil was now on the couch, head in Dee’s lap. Roman was telling a story from his time in the dreamscape and Patton was watching him with a soft, fond look that he never gave anyone else. Another feeling he didn’t have a name for made his heart ache. Loneliness? Longing? Perhaps even jealousy? No, that was impossible. What reason could he possibly have to be jealous? Just because the others found love and he didn’t? Just because he felt like the odd one out? Just because Virgil and Dee were having a low conversation and Dee said something that made Virgil laugh and they kissed and Logan wanted to—

“Hey Lo, good morning!” Patton’s cheery voice pulled Logan from his whirlwind of thoughts.

Logan schooled his expression into something neutral and nodded. “Good morning, Patton. I went ahead and put the kettle on for you and Roman, and the coffee is ready now."

“Thanks, Lolo, you’re the best!” Patton headed into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to give Logan a hug that he barely managed to return. Roman followed right after, leaving Virgil and Deceit to their conversation on the couch.

Logan cleared his throat and the two sides looked up at him. “My, my, Logan, don’t you look ravishing this morning?” Dee said, mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief. A flicker of something like hope rose up in Logan’s chest but a sharp voice echoed in his head, shoving that feeling back down. “He’s just in a good mood because Virgil is with him. That’s all. He’s never commented on your appearance before. It doesn’t mean anything that he’s saying something about it now.”

“I- ah, thank you. I don’t know if you heard me but the coffee is ready.” Logan turned, thoughts racing, and went back into the kitchen before anyone could say anything else. He was being ridiculous. Surely he was imagining things, and this was just a one-time occurrence, and everything would go back to normal soon. Right?

***

The day did not get any easier by any means. Roman and Patton disappeared off into the dreamscape not long after breakfast, leaving Logan alone with Virgil and Deceit. He tried to excuse himself but Virgil coaxed him into staying downstairs with them and watching documentaries. 

He only stayed because Virgil said it was a documentary about space. Definitely not because Virgil was pouting, and definitely not because that look in Virgil’s eyes made it impossible to say no.

Which is how Logan ended up sandwiched between his two best friends on the couch, trying and failing to focus on the tv and not on Deceit’s thigh pressing into his, and Virgil’s hand inching slowly closer towards his own. Logan felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wanted desperately to hope that their actions meant what he thought they did, to ask if it were possible to be in a relationship with two people at once and could they please try it, but that sharp, cold voice in his head shut it down again. “In the past, neither have expressed affection for me. Therefore it would not make sense that their feelings about me would change now.”

The documentary finally finished and Logan took the opportunity to try and leave. “Thank you for inviting me to watch this with you. Now if you'll please excuse me, I really should be going.”

Virgil looked up at him, frowning. He shot a glance at Dee before turning his gaze back to Logan. “Oh, um. Are you sure, we can watch another-”

Logan shook his head adamantly, already heading towards the stairs. “No, thank you.” He was gone before Virgil or Dee could say anything else.

***

Logan spent the rest of the day in his room. He paced back and forth, hands alternating between running through his hair and fiddling with his tie. That had been a less than ideal situation. It left Logan feeling even more confused than before. Patton had come to ask if he wanted lunch, and he declined, claiming that he had too much work to do. He didn’t feel hungry anyways, though he knew he should eat something, at the very least for Thomas’ sake. Despite that knowledge, he couldn’t bring himself to go downstairs, to face Dee and Virgil.

He sat down at his desk and turned on his laptop. He wasn’t really able to focus on anything else but the problem at hand. Perhaps he could do some research on his earlier questions after all. Surely he couldn’t be the only one who had feelings for multiple people at the same time. At the very least, it was worth a try.

He wasn’t sure what to type at first. Maybe information on if it was possible to date more than one person at the same time? He took a deep breath and started taking meticulous notes on what he found.

He worked steadily and didn’t stop until he heard another knock at the door. He ignored it at first, but after a minute had passed another knock sounded. Logan sighed and stood, taking a moment to stretch before he went to open his door. “Patton, I told you I’m very busy, I’ll be-”

But it wasn’t Patton who was at the door this time. It was Dee, dressed not in his usual outfit but a white button-up shirt and a pale yellow skirt. Logan felt heat rise up to his cheeks and he turned away slightly. “Deceit. How can I help you?” 

Dee took a step forward. “May I come in?” Logan stepped back out of instinct and Dee was in his room before he knew it. He sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing out his skirt. 

“I believe we should talk.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. Logan closed the door and sat down at the desk, facing Dee. He closed his laptop and turned his notes over. He didn’t want to talk about what he’d been researching. He only hoped Dee hadn’t noticed.

“What would you like to discuss?” Logan asked. Dee didn’t answer right away. Then, in a voice that was gentle yet firm: “You’ve been lying a lot lately.”

The words struck Logan like a blow. He blinked, all train of thought derailing. “I- what? I’m not sure-”

“Don’t.” Dee held up a gloved hand. “You know I can tell, right? I just know when people are lying. Mostly I try to focus only on Thomas, but sometimes I just get worried about others enough to warrant checking on them. Roman. Patton. Virgil.” Dee scooted closer and rested a hand on Logan’s knee. “You.”

Logan opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. “Do you-” he started, but didn’t finish his thought. What was he supposed to say? He knew what he’d been lying about. He’d been lying to himself this whole time. He was jealous. He had feelings- romantic feelings- for both Dee and Virgil. But he’d been denying it. Or at least he’d been trying to. He gulped and looked down at Dee’s hand.

“I- Can you, I mean. Do you know the nature of said lies?” Logan couldn’t meet Dee’s gaze, though he felt Dee’s eyes on him. 

“Not exactly. All I know is that it’s been lies of omission and that it’s been mostly to yourself. But you lied to Patton earlier, when he came up to ask if you’d be joining us for lunch. I felt it.” Dee gently reached out to cup Logan’s face, guiding him up so Logan would look at him.

Dee’s mismatched eyes were full of concern. “Why didn’t you come down for lunch? Are you okay?” Logan shook his head, moving back and away from Dee’s touch. He didn’t see the hurt in Dee’s eyes when he did so.

“I was doing research and did not want to be pulled away from my work.” A truth. Dee’s gaze shifted from Logan to the desk behind him. Looked at the closed laptop, the papers beside it.

“If I ask what you were researching, are you going to tell me?” Logan didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if he could answer. What was he supposed to say? “I’ve been researching and I found out I’m polyamorous? I have romantic feelings for not only you, but Virgil as well? I want nothing more than to be a part of your relationship with Virgil? That I love you both?”

Dee’s gaze shot back to Logan the moment he thought it. Logan bit his lip, his heart racing in his chest. “Dee, I-” 

But Dee turned and sank out. One moment he was there, eyes wide and intense, the next he was gone. Logan didn’t know what to do. He sat at his desk, staring at the space Dee had occupied only moments before. If Dee had heard the admission he’d thought in his head, the logical thing to do would be to tell Virgil. If Dee felt the same way, he would have said something instead of running off. Which meant that he didn’t. Something in Logan’s chest cracked, and his breath caught in his throat. 

A sob escaped him unbidden, and he covered his mouth, desperate to stop it. He wanted to force the feelings down again, but that first sob had been like a dam breaking inside of him. The tears flowed freely down his face, and he cried.

***

“Wait, he what?” Virgil’s voice was incredulous. Dee had run right to his boyfriend and told him everything. Virgil almost couldn’t believe it. What had Logan been thinking, keeping those thoughts to himself?

“But we- I mean, we’ve been flirting with him for months and he never-” Virgil shook his head. He didn’t know what to feel. Relief that his and Dee’s feelings were reciprocated? Happiness at the idea of dating Logan? Sadness that Logan had been lying to himself this whole time, for sure.

Dee sat next to Virgil, taking his hand. “I love Logan, you know I do. But we both know he can be a bit.. dense.” Virgil nodded, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“That’s true. Listen, we should really talk to him about this. And it has to be up to him, and at his pace. Whatever he wants to do, whatever he’s comfortable with. No matter what.”

“Of course, Virgil. Here,” he said as he stood, pulling Virgil up along with him. “Let’s go get our man.”  

They appeared outside Logan’s bedroom door. Dee raised his hand to knock when Virgil stopped him. He held a finger to his lips and shook his head. “Listen” he mouthed.

The sound was muffled, but it definitely sounded like crying. Logan was crying. Panic and worry flooded Virgil’s face and Dee didn’t hesitate a moment later as he opened the door. To hell with knocking, not when Logan needed them.

Logan was still at his desk, head in his hands. He looked up when he heard the door open and saw them there, his two best friends. He quickly wiped the tears away and shook his head. “Virgil, Dee, what are- I mean, I…” his voice trailed off. Dee and Virgil came in and were by his side before he had even finished speaking. Dee stroked his hair and Virgil grabbed a tissue from the box on the desk and handed it to him.

“Logan, hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, it’s alright. Just focus on your breathing, okay?” Virgil’s voice was soft and Logan nodded, taking deep breaths in order to try and calm himself enough to speak. 

He looked at Dee first, then Virgil. He wasn’t quite sure where to begin. Why were feelings so difficult? He hadn’t realized he said this aloud until he heard Dee chuckle softly and saw Virgil smirk. 

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy, is it?” Dee asked. He held out his hand to Logan, who tentatively took it. Virgil repeated the motion, and Logan took his hand as well. He gave them both a gentle squeeze before finally finding the courage to speak.

“It would seem that I have… feelings for the both of you. Romantic feelings.” 

Virgil grinned, and Dee’s eyes glinted with happiness. Logan blinked in surprise as they hugged him, and he hugged back.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that, L,” Virgil said as he gently pulled away from the hug to look at Logan. 

“I am too; it’s nice to finally hear you admit the truth after all these months.” Dee gave Logan a conspiratorial wink. Logan blushed. “I can and yet can’t believe it took you so long to realize Virgil and I have romantic feelings for you as well. We’ve been flirting with you for months now. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?” 

Logan scowled. “Apparently that’s true only when it comes to common sense or things steeped in general logic. Not emotions. But I will admit it seems I may have made a few logical fallacies.” 

He hesitated for a moment but decided to continue. “For example, earlier today when we were watching that documentary. And this morning, when you told me I-”

“Looked absolutely delicious? Because that’s true.” Dee leaned in and brushed his lips against Logan’s cheek. Virgil laughed at the look on Logan’s face and shook his head. “Actually, you said he looked ravishing, if you want to be technical about it,” Virgil said teasingly.

Dee shrugged. “Delicious, ravishing, tomato, solanum lycopersicum.” This made Logan laugh, and neither Virgil or Dee wanted him to stop. Logan’s laugh really was a delight to hear. 

“In all seriousness though, Logan. We do need to discuss some stuff, okay? Things like boundaries and how we want to go about doing this.” Logan tilted his head to the side quizzically. 

“What exactly are you saying?” 

Virgil looked at Dee, who nodded encouragingly. “I’m saying that Dee and I love you, and we want to be with you. But we also want you to be comfortable, so we’re going to do this on your terms.”

“Oh. What does that mean specifically?” Logan studied Virgil’s face intently.

“It means that if you want to start by just dating one of us, you can. Or if you don’t want to date at all right now, if you just want to think about it, that’s okay too. I, we, don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or rush into things and cause you to become overwhel-” Virgil was cut off by Logan pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When Logan moved back, Virgil was at a loss for words. Logan gave him a smile, his dimples showing, and Virgil thought he’d melt right there.

Dee cleared his throat. “Well, that was lovely to watch. However, don’t I get a turn? After all, it’s only polite to share.” Logan smirked and kissed Dee as well, just as softly and sweetly.

“I want to be with both of you. We can take things slow, but I love you both. I think we’ve all been waiting long enough.”

Virgil and Dee hugged Logan tightly, and Logan never felt happier than he did in that moment. He felt something in his chest, like his heart was a roaring fireplace. 

It was love.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this story! Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Tell me what you think! Comments add 10+ years to my lifespan. If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my taglist, please let me know by sending me an ask. You can find me on ao3 at Storytelling_Sparrow. Thank you so much for your continued support!

Taglist: @theresneverenoughfandoms @galaxywitchwolf13 @magicallygrimmwiccan @daring-elm @creativity-killed-thekitten @007ardra @princeyssash @demigodnamedathena @khadij-al-kubra @im-shooting-straight @princewroammin @gayzelley @chimerical-caracal @sparkedawg @ironwoman359 @today-only-happens-once @areyousirius-noheisdead @madly-handsome @milomeepit @princelogical @silversmith-91 @xxladystarlightxx @poisonedapples @romanamongthestars @ab-artist @ninjago2020 @anuninspiredpoet @gemini-the-kitsune-rp @youvegotafiendinme @aizawaisnotstraight @therubyjailcell

#sparrow writes #sanders sides fanfiction #analoceit #background royality #sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #hurt/comfort

[sweethugsandhoney]

every step of the way

summary: spencer witnessed the girl he loved die, right in front of his eyes. and now reader has to fix his broken heart and hers.

i heard the tapping of my shoes as i went up the stairs. the stairs i’ve travelled up and down from for many years, this time it was different. i turned around the corner to see multiple gift baskets full of food, all left out in front of spencer’s apartment door. my hand reached out to the door, knocking twice before silence consumed the hall.

“hey spence, it’s me y/n. just came to check on you”, i said, hoping that maybe spencer would be listening. “it’s my day off today, i was hoping i could spend it with you”, i continued, the reply i got was non existent. i let out a soft sigh and turned around to leave. i stopped in my tracks when i heard the familiar sound of spencer’s locks turning.

i saw his messy mop of hair and dark eyebags slowly pop out of the gap through the door. “hey”, i said softly. “hi”, he replied, his gaze cast down. “can i come in?”, i asked, fiddling with my fingers. spencer nodded his head slowly.

“do you want me to help you bring these in?”, i asked glancing down at the three baskets on his front door. he shook his head no and opened the door wider for me. i stepped in, avoiding trying to damage or knock over the baskets. i took off my coat and left it to rest on the couch and sat down.

my eyes glanced over the hundreds of books scattered all over the house, even finding some in the hallway. “i see you’ve kept yourself busy”, i said once spence was sitting down next to me. “yeah, it’s helped me keep my mind off of...”, he said lowly, trailing off towards the end.

i felt a pang of hurt in my chest, but cast it aside. ‘this isn’t about me, it’s about spencer’, i told myself. “you know you i’m here for you, right? i know you may not want to talk about it, but when you do, i’m right here for you. no matter what”, i said in the most sincerest voice i could muster up. he was my best friend of many years, i needed him to know i would always be there for him.

“i know, it’s just been kind of hard. she was the first girl i liked to not humiliate me”, my eyes followed his gaze on a book titled, ‘the narrative of john smith’. “she wrote me a letter saying that she was gonna make blindfolds fun again”, a small smile lingered on his lips. “she never got around to sending it before she got taken”, the smile was gone and so was the small glint his eyes.

i felt the tears start pooling around my eyes, grieving with him and for him. he had talked to me about maeve many times before, each time breaking my heart. however i stayed happy for him, if he couldn’t see a future with me then at least he saw it with someone else. “sometimes i wish i could forget that she’s dead”, spencer let out a sob.

i scooted closer to spencer, feeling him wrap his arms around my body and bury his face into my chest. just like how he had done many times when emily died. he let out sobs into my chest, his tears wetting my shirt. with every sob that he let out, my heart broke more. i hated seeing my best friend and love hurt so much.

“everything was so effortless with her, hours passed by that felt like minutes”, spencer pulled back, gaze still not meeting mine. “in my dreams, i can feel her warm hands touch me”, tears continued to pool out of his eyes and mine, flowing down like rivers. i knew that at times like these it was better to keep quiet and let spencer talk.

“she touches me y/n. i never felt her, i didn’t even know what she looked like, but she was still the person i loved the most. i did everything i could to have her in my arms, but it still wasn’t good enough”, he said sobbing back into my chest, his fingers gripping my shirt.

i’m not sure how many hours had passed, but the shiny afternoon sun had dimmed down. the dark blue of the sky seeping in through the windows. spencer had cried himself to sleep, arms still holding onto my figure. my tears had dried long ago, but the ache in my heart still remained.

“i love you spence”, i whispered quietly into the silent apartment, running my hands on his hair. “and i’ll be by your side every step of the way”, i felt fresh tears start to appear again, blinking them away. even if i’ll get hurt along the way.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg #matthew gray gubler #angst #imagine

[suddenlysackler]

One Little Spark

Charlie Barber x Reader

TW: general somber tones, alcohol, covid19, election, anxiety, depression, some angst and cynicism if you squint

A/N: Hello! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? This is something I had written right after the election returns in November, got halfway through and then couldn’t bring myself to finish it. There’s a looooot of self projecting in it and it certainly is not my best, but I wanted to share something with you all. I miss you very much and hope to get back to posting more often soon. Thanks for reading!

...

There are three empty bottles of wine scattered around the living room now, something that might surprise someone given all of the talk about drinking in excess over the past five days to cope. 

Not that it mattered anyway because, in reality, you weren’t really coping. Neither was Charlie.

Your electricity bill would surely be head and shoulders above what it typically was on any given month and your bed hadn’t seen any use since the wee hours of Tuesday morning when the two of you had pulled yourself from the security and warmth of blankets and sleep to vote and then head to work. Work had seemed like more of a formality than anything else after slipping your ballot into the machine in the gym of the elementary school that had been deemed a polling place. No one in the office really got much done Tuesday and you had opted to work from home to keep Charlie company in the following days.

The two of you had fallen asleep on the couch with the sounds of news anchor speculation just a little louder than you cared for typically.

“Just in case something happens.” Charlie had said, remote in one hand while the other snaked around your waist as you drifted off to the most broken sleep of your life.

The pandemic had been hard on both of you in different ways — you were working with a skeleton staff due to Broadway going dark and, well, Charlie had no work. The two of you were getting along just fine financially, but the lack of things to do and people to see were taxing. Not only that, but Henry just so happened to be with Nicole when things began to shut down and neither she nor Charlie felt right sending him on a plane back to New York. 

All of this is to say that, since March, the two of you had not been doing well. It was quieter around the apartment than usual and three weeks into the stay at home order Charlie had put away the toys scattered around the apartment from Henry’s last visit to avoid the pang that shot through each of your chests every time someone tripped on one or caught a glimpse of another. 

Charlie didn’t know what to do with himself when you were finally called back into the office. Sure, he wrote and he organized virtual workshops and networked as much as he could and even tried to get some of his older stuff published, but it wasn’t enough to keep him satisfied and invigorated. You busied yourself with cooking when you were home and the two of you took as much time to walk or go for runs or whatever you could do in order to stay active and get some fresh air. 

The two of you had had the discussion multiple times since maybe June — would the election fix everything? Absolutely not. Would it get rid of the pandemic overnight? Again, not at all possible. But maybe, just maybe, if it was the outcome you were looking for, there might be some spark of life and hope instilled back into the apartment that had once been so full of joy and possibilities.

“You didn’t sleep again, did you?” You ask that Saturday morning, blinking away sleep and snuggling down even more into Charlie’s chest.

“No.” He shrugged, eyes trained on the ceiling as he listened to the same characters on the same news station talk about the same election returns that they had for the past two days.

Your stomach sank because, yeah, you hadn’t slept well, but you had at least slept. “Did you work at all?”

Charlie shook his head, taking a deep breath as he glanced back toward the television. 

“We should just turn this off, honey.” You whisper, reaching over to grab the remote and jumping when a large hand shot out to stop you. 

He shook his head once more, eyes pleading and round and bloodshot. “What if they call it?”

Holding his gaze steadily, you shake your head and encircle your hand around his wrist. “Then they’ll call it. We’ll find out one way or another.” You continue to whisper, eyelashes fluttering. “Someone once told me that if news is important enough, it’ll reach you even if you don’t have a newspaper or television.”

Charlie’s expression wavers somewhere between incredulousness, exhaustion, and desperation. He needs to know, needs to be put at ease, but he also knows the two of you can’t keep doing this. It’s not sustainable and if it’s not the outcome you want...Well, Charlie doesn’t really know what he would do. Especially after having waited so long. 

“Please, baby?” You plead, your own face just as desperate for some sort of respite.

He’s silent for a long moment, weighing his options but not really focusing on any one in particular — his mind feels like jello. His resolve is breaking. “Okay.” He finally breathes out a sigh of defeat and slouches back, turning the television off himself and visibly relaxing even more as silence envelopes the room. 

You crawl right into his lap and weave your arms and legs around his torso, a movement when he is completely pliant to. He snuggles right up to you and kisses the top of your hair, sniffling just a bit. 

“Baby?” 

“Yes, honey?”

“I’m sorry.” 

Charlie is sorry for so many things. He’s sorry that he hasn’t slept and he’s sorry that he hasn’t been the man you needed him to be for months. He’s sorry for moping as much as he has and he’s sorry for the fact that practically everything in your lives has been ripped apart in the past year. He’s sorry he can’t fix it.

You pull back and stare at him, then shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault.” You say softly, eyes just as round as his had been and now teeming with tears. “I wish I could make it easier for us, but it’s okay. We’re making it through.”

As Charlie opens his mouth to respond, both of your phones start to vibrate. Notification after notification populate the screens that you scramble to grab and his smile matches yours when you’ve finally digested the news. The election had been called and, to your delight, it was the news you had been waiting for.

The celebration that ensues is not what you had been picturing since Tuesday morning. No champagne is popped. There’s no dancing in the streets for either of you. The television is not switched on again. Rather, the two of you breathe the biggest sigh of relief that you had in months, years even. You settle back down into your snuggling positions and even cry a little bit. You talk and talk and head to the kitchen to have a bowl of soup together and just be together and take in the celebrations down below. 

No, this didn’t change anything for either of you. You knew there was still a long road ahead with plenty of your own trials and tribulations to come as well as those that faced the world in the coming weeks and months. But, despite the lack of change that had occurred in the span of the twelve hours since you had last paid attention to the news, that lack of change and all of the change to come could be concurred with Charlie by your side. You just knew it.

#charlie barber #charlie #charlie x reader #charlie barber x reader #reader self insert #Marriage Story #marriage story fic #charlie barber fic #adam driver #ADCU

[mizunetzu]

Kirishima x reader - just a dream

(A/n): Now this wasn’t a request, but it was something I wrote about a year ago that I found in my notes. It was for one of my closest friends, so I turned it into an x reader. If they happen to stumble upon this, and wish for me to take it down, then I will have no problem doing so. (And if you do find it and want me to take it down dude I’m reallyyyyy sorryyyyyy)

⚠️ warnings - uhh-angst? none.

Pronouns - gender neutral, they/them

——————

“Hey-Kirishima..?”

The red haired boy looked up from his drink. People bustled in and out of the coffee shop he and (Y/n) were currently sitting in. (Y/n) took a small sip from their beverage.

“Hm?” Kirishima hummed. (Y/n) looked nervous. People roared with laughter and conversation around them, contrasting the sudden silence they come across.

“I...I need to get something off my chest, red”

(Y/n) averted his gaze. They brought their cup back to their lips absentmindedly, taking a longer sip this time. Kirishima followed suit.

“So...uh...how do I say this...” (y/n) mumbled, words overlapping each other. Kirishima looked at (y/n) intently. “I’ve had certain...feeling about you and I-it’s not in a friend way...”

(Y/n) never met Kirishimas gaze. They instead silently sipped at their cup, thinking of their next words.

“So...I just want to say that I...I love you..”

Kirishimas eyes soften as he finally looked away. Right as (y/n) looked at him too. Noticing he now stared off into his drink, they quickly looked back down.

“I...” Kirishima started. (Y/n) looked up at their best friend.

“I’m sorry. I...like someone else...”

Those few words stung like daggers through (y/n’s) chest, each one burning more after the other. Kirishima held a look of pity as (y/n) just sat there, engulfing them both in silence. It was like the whole cafe went quiet.

(Y/n) was the first to break the silence.

“Who-who is it..?” (y/n) piped up, trying to sound happy but failing miserably. Kirishima exhaled with a smile.

“Well theres this person-and I don’t really know why I like them. Actually-there’s no possible reason why I WOULDN’T like them! They’re super funny, and they fight SUPER manly! Not to mention they’re always saving my ass-and whenever they walk into the room? Oh my gosh it’s like it gets all bright and stuff!! Sadly, they probably don’t feel the same-but that’s okay. They’re still my closest Brofriend...” Kirishima rambled on dreamily, resting his head on his palm. Each word dug into (Y/n’s) heart like arrows to a target.

“Cmon man just-just spit it out already..!” (Y/n’s) joked around, playfully punching Kirishima on the shoulder lightly with a trembling hand. The red head chuckled lightly.

“It’s...it’s Mina..”

(Y/n’s) smile faltered. “I-I’m sorry...who?”

“It’s...time to wake up.”

(Y/n’s) eyes snapped open. They bolted upright and looked around their room. (Y/n) sighed and rubbed at their temples. “God...” (y/n) groaned. (Y/n) glanced at their alarm clock.

6:30 am.

(Y/n) sighed once more and groggily got up from their bed and stretching.

————————

(Y/n) couldn’t get the dream out of their head. It played over and over again like a broken record. Of course, they had to have that dream on the day they planned on confessing too.

At the same coffee shop as well.

“You okay (n/n)??” Kirishima said, waving his hand across (y/n’s) face multiple times. they were in hero’s class with all might, and they were working on they’re ultimate moves and such.

(Y/n) shrugged. “It’s all good, I’m just really out of it today.” Kirishima smiled.

“B-by the way, you wanna hangout today at the coffee shop after school? I uh, I need to tell you something.” (Y/n) said, immediately recalling the events in their dream. They gulped.

“Sure bro!-“ Kirishima started. They were immediately wrapped up in Aizawas capture weapon, tightening up more and more by the second.

“Stop talking and get back to work. If you want to talk, then do that outside of class..” Aizawa grumbled tiredly.

“G-gotcha sensei!” (Y/n) and Kirishima rasped out in unison. The capture weapon loosened and the pair exhaled sharply.

“A-anYWAYS, haAh goD, i-I’m down...” Kirishima huffed, still surprised from aizawas sudden attack. (Y/n) exhaled and placed a hand on their chest. “Well, see you there red!”

They both went back to work.

——

The day was over, and (y/n) was waiting anxiously infront of the school for Kirishima to arrive. “Heyyy! (Y/nnnnnnn)!” Kirishima called. (Y/n’s) heart skipped a beat as their fingers shook from nervousness. “R-ready to go out?” (Y/n) said, voice cracking a little.

“Heck yeah!”

——

The two arrived at the small cafe, and took a seat. “Whaddya want man? I’ll order for you.” Kirishima mused.

“Uh-ill just get a small coffee...” (y/n) said. Kirishima smiled once more before disappearing into the line. (Y/n) let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Is this even a good idea anymore? (Y/n’s) head swarmed with negative thoughts and doubts. I mean, if that dream was a warning, maybe I should just say nothing and enjoy the day with my best friend-

“I’m back (y/n)!” Kirishima hollered as quietly as possible. He held up two cups. “And I got our drinks!”

“Niiiiice” (y/n) mused, a drop of sweat crawling down their face. Kirishima took a seat in front of them and slid their drink to them.They took hold of it, and brought it to their lips tentatively.

“So...” Kirishima said , resting his hand on the back of his seat. “Didn’t ya wanna tell me something?”

(Y/n’s) blood ran cold. They closed their eyes and took another sip. “Y-yeah, actually..” Kirishima tilted his head to the side.

“What’s the matter bro? You seemed out of it the whole day-is everything alright??”

‘Well, there’s no backing down now...’ they thought. (Y/n) cleared their throat and placed both hands on the rim of the coffee table.

“Uh-well, yeah I do need to ask you something.” (Y/n) said. Kirishima looked worried now. “B-but it’s not anything serious!” (Y/n) frantically rushed out.

“what is it man? You know you can talk to me, we’re best bro’s!” Kirishima smiled, pounding a fist lightly against his chest. (Y/n’s) heart swelled.

(Y/n) shook that feeling off. “It’s nothing really but...uh...do you, per se, like anyone? Like, like like someone?”

Kirishima looked up from his drink. It was loud, just like in kairus dream. That wasn’t good reassurance.

Kirishima smirked sheepishly and took a long drink from his cup, before sighing contently and setting it down with a thud.

“Yes, actually...”

(Y/n) felt a pang in their chest. They already assumed he had someone who caught his eye the same way he caught theirs but...just hearing it out loud is so...

(Y/n) pressed their lips into a thin line. “W-what are they like?” (Y/n) said, forcing a smile. Kirishima blushed. (Y/n’s) face darkened.

“Well, they’re super funny, and they fight SUPER manly! Not to mention they’re always saving my ass-and whenever they walk into the room it’s like it gets all bright and stuff-”

(Y/n’s) eyes blurred up. It was exactly like their dream. Maybe it was a warning. Maybe it was the world telling them he wasn’t meant for them. Maybe it was just god telling them Kirishima is just a friend to them, nothing more, nothing less.

They let Kirishima continue, though they already knew what he was going to say.

He was going to say he liked Mina, and (y/n’s) pathetic heart would break all over again.

“-Sadly, they probably don’t feel the same-but that’s okay. They’re still my closest brofriend.”

Tears unwillingly welled up in (y/n’s) eyes. They blinked them away and looked back up to a cheerful looking Kirishima, whose face went from happy to worry.

“(Y/n)-for like the millionth time today-is everything al-“

(Y/n) stood up from their seat. Rather abruptly, that is. Their chair knocked back, causing a weird screeching noise. Many people turned their heads in their direction and most of their conversations halted.

A flurry of emotion blew past (y/n) as tears finally spilled down their cheeks. Kirishima looked intensely concerned.

“I-I can’t-“ (y/n) squeaked out as they made a beeline for the exit. They just barley stepped out of the cafe as they felt a warm hand grip their wrist. They was immediately met face to face with a distressed, but pitiful looking Kirishima.

“(Y/n) I...do you know who I’m describing..?” Kirishima said, looking away. (Y/n) pursed their lips. “Of course I do, it’s Mina-“

“No, it isn’t.”

(Y/n) looked puzzled. Kirishima still looked off to the side. (Y/n) furrowed their eyebrows.

“Who...who is it?”

(Y/n) braced themself for the answer. If it wasn’t Mina, it was probably someone else like asui, or yaoyorozu, or hell even Bakugou-

“It’s you”

(Y/n) stared intensely at their best friend. Kirishima finally met (y/n’s) gaze. (Y/n) was at a loss for words. Words couldn’t even explain how was they were feeling right now.

They pulled Kirishima into a hug, as that was all they were able to do at the moment. Kirishima took their lack of response as an okay sign to hug back.

People were probably staring at them, but they couldn’t care less.

It was only Kirishima and (y/n) at that moment.

“So...what did ya wanna say to me, (n/n)?”

(Y/n) looked at him. They smiled genuinely for the first time since they arrived.

“I love you, red.”

Kirishima smiled aswell, and pecked the top of (y/n) forehead softly.

“I love you too, (n/n).”

——————

So-I have nO idea how taglists work, and I’m asUMing that you just tag them everytime you write a thing, so (pleasE) feel free to correct me on this, @kenmas-consoles

#kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima headcanon #mha kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima imagine #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijirou #bnha eijiro x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha fic #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader

[batmanie]

Old Habits - scriddler

“Jeeezus!!!” The yelp was quite loud and – to be honest – quite satisfying. Eyes wide, and with a hand clutching onto his shirt, exactly where the heart would be, Nigma made a perfect example of someone who was suffering a cardiac arrest. His chest was rapidly rising and falling as he was trying to catch his breath. “Did I scare you?” He knew he did, and it felt so strange that he was still able to enjoy those little things in his life after all he'd been through. “You look like you've seen a ghost.” “Perhaps I'm seeing one?” Edward had to take a moment to collect himself, his voice was still hoarse and breathless, which would have made the old Scarecrow smirk – not the new one, though. The 'new him' didn't know what fun was anymore. “And it's an ugly view,” Riddler frowned. “How did you even...” “Survive?” Crane cut in with the most casual tone. He took a step toward the source of the light but his whole head was hidden in the shadow of his hood. “How did I escape? Crawl out of the sewers? Drag myself back to the town with a broken leg to get medical attention? Well, obviously not thanks to you...” “I was going to ask: How did you manage to make yourself look even more ridiculous than before?” It was almost jovial how quickly Nigma was getting rude and offensive when feeling attacked. 'Some things never change', Scarecrow thought with a pang of nostalgia. “It is good to see you too, Edward.” It really was, even if Riddler didn't look too happy to see him. This little reunion in the dark and unwelcoming system of the underground tunnels which were currently Riddler's hideout was giving Scarecrow the false but somewhat soothing impression that nothing had changed while he was gone. “How have you been?” He decided to keep the conversation going – talking was one of Riddler's favorite activities after all. “Perfect!” Nigma waved his hand in a nonchalant gesture. Crane, being no less observant than he had always been, had already noticed all the signs that were telling otherwise. The room they were in, one of many in this maze of a place, looked like it hadn't been cleaned up in ages. Multiple papers were scattered across the floor along with some cables, tools, and all kinds of trash. Riddler must have spent a lot of his time down here, as his skin was so pale that it probably hadn't seen any natural sunlight in months. His cheeks were hollow, his hair messy and there were dark circles around his eyes. And in this sad picture, the only two things that seemed to be alive were Edward himself, and his eyes – radiating confidence, intellect and thirst for revenge.

“I assume you didn't kill the Bat?” “Not yet.” The man shrugged, pretending not to care but at the same time nervously tapping his fingers on the desk – one of his many motor tics. “But with my new plan he is as good as dead, don't you worry about that! As you can see, I'm very busy right now and I don't need you, or anyone, to distract me. I am a perfectly self-dependent one-man army, capable of besting the Bat on my own!” His angry, slightly high-pitched tone told Scarecrow just how much Riddler had actually changed. His time-alone had done the man no good but he was too far gone to notice that. “Do you want me to leave then?” “Yes, please!” Edward crossed his arms. It was more of an angry order than a polite request. “If you expected that I will ask you to stay, just because we used to be... whatever you want to call that. Well, sorry to disappoint you,” he turned his back to Scarecrow, now facing the desk littered with some blueprints. “I bet you are still very busy playing dead – so busy that for the past six months it didn't cross your mind to inform me that those news about the crocodile eating you alive were exaggerated!” Now, there was something new in Edward's voice, something similar to a sad and bitter undertone. Jonathan immediately caught on that shift and he had to admit, it got him interested. “Would it have been so hard, to contact me earlier?” The man continued, holding onto the edge of his desktop, as if it was a lifebuoy preventing him from drowning in his own madness. “Instead of treating me like I was nothing to you? Like I was one of those morons who wrote you off as dead?!” “I was dead...,” Scarecrow stated with a hushed, almost murmuring tone. “Jonathan Crane died that night in the sewers of Gotham. Now, there is only Scarecrow.” Riddler turned his head and laughed mockingly, the short, bark-like sound lacked any joy. “Oh, really? You seem rather fine for a dead-man!” “What makes you think, I am fine?” Riddler went silent and looked at him, surprised. It was a long, calculative stare, the longest one Edward had graced him with yet. Jonathan was sure, Riddler was about to ask him about the leg brace – the newest addition to Scarecrow's already terrifying look. He didn't – his gaze lingered on it but soon wandered higher. Jon stepped forward, sensing that this was the time to present his 'new face'. He took another step toward the man so the two of them were really close now. There was the desk behind Edward's back – no place to run – and even if the situation seemed harmless, Jonathan could already sense the tension between them. Slowly, he pulled his hood down, revealing the disturbing view underneath. Riddler's blue eyes widened at the sight of the dirty piece of cloth stitched to the very skin of Jonathan's face. Edward's right hand twitched and instinctively reached to examine the stitching but before his fingers touched the fabric, the man stopped himself. “Are you...insane?” He breathed out, in a half-shocked, half-furious manner. Scarecrow observed his reaction with anticipation, their eyes locked together as both of them refused to look elsewhere. “It felt like a necessity back then,” Crane made sure his voice was as smooth and chill as possible. He had quite a story to tell, however, he doubted Edward would understand him. “I had to patch up the open wound that used to be my face. All I had, was my old burlap mask so that was my first choice. Not the smartest one, I admit, since the infection spread through my whole body just a week later, leaving me delirious and weak for the next two months. And it was only worse from there...” Edward just stared at him, saying nothing even though he looked like he wanted to. Driven by old habit, Crane observed how the small veins over the man's temples pulsated with the rush of blood, and at the same time, he did a quick analysis of his own actions. What exactly had he expected from Nigma? Was it his pity that he sought? Did he desire to see, how poorly the man was doing without him? Well, he had gotten a taste of that, but did it please his cold, dark heart? “As you can see,” Scarecrow pulled up his hood and backed off, letting Riddler return to his comfort zone, “...I wasn't exactly in shape to come to you earlier. I did not mean to offend you...” Oh, so it was making peace then, was it? That was the purpose behind coming here after all those months. To convince himself, to convince Edward, that everything was, as it had always been – even if it was not. “Well,” Nigma awkwardly cleared his throat, his eyes examining the dirty, stone flooring for a little while before he was able to look at his guest again. “I guess, I have no choice but to accept your reasoning.” “That's very generous of you, Edward.” Riddler tried to smile but it came out more like a nervous twitch. “But where are my good manners,” he reminded himself and it seemed like all the resentment that had been there before, had vanished. An almost child-like eagerness replaced it. “Sit down, please.” He offered Scarecrow the only chair he got in his cramped, lonely dumpster. “Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Hot cocoa? I had a second mug...somewhere around here.” “No, thank you, Edward,” Crane stopped him from searching through the dusty shelves. “I can't have hot beverages just yet. But I appreciate your effort. I think I will go now.” “Already? Why don’t you stay longer? I will share some juicy details about my next, big plan with you, and I can even show you a prototype of my latest contraption. I promise, it will blow your mind, haha. Metaphorically speaking, of course.” Edward must have missed that – talking to someone who would just sit down and listen to his crazy ideas.

To be honest, he himself might have missed the sound of a human voice just a little.

Deep down, Scarecrow knew his days were numbered, his body broken beyond repair. And it was his fear of dying defeated, humiliated, and forgotten that brought him back to Riddler.

...because of all people, it was Riddler who could understand that fear best. “Fine... Let’s talk about that plan of yours.”

#batman #scriddler #Jonathan Crane #edward nigma #Arkham City #arkhamverse #riddler #scarecrow #edward nygma #Arkham Games #batman fanfiction #fanfiction #My Story #temarcia #Bat-mania