#like i truly believed this year would be my 'summer body' or whatever shit that means and its not and idk what to do i just want to be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sssilverstoned · 4 months

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sympathy for the devil ꩜ cl16

type: fluff? besties to lovers? let's say that. a friend is done dirty but is she really a friend? debatable. flashbacks, angst-ish (a guilty conscience is always a great outfit addition, no?)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: language, suggestive but no smut (finger sucking. i was in a mood,) charles is a reformed cheater, so let's say some moral ambiguity all around

lily said: hello hello! welcome to the inner workings of my hyper fixation on summer romances and a couple of bestieeeees who should just be a couple. now that this guy is out the way, i'd love to formally open requests! a drabble, fic, oneshot, hit my line ! we can get into the details of who i do and don't write for later <3

You are not a terrible person. You're not even a bad person, truly. It's something you repeat to yourself like a mantra as you look away from Charles's side profile across the long table.

He's looking like summertime, soft like an afternoon nap, but sharp like a stinging on your skin from too many 5 more minutes called from the patio. His neck is elongated slightly, trying to hear Joris's story over Mirabel's loud laughter. When he leans like that, you can see a peak of the remnants of the hickey you sucked into his pale skin the evening before. Your stomach hurts.

Charles's own nose is red, he's scrunching it on occasion like no one will notice his discomfort, and his necessity for aloe vera. You've packed it in your bag because you know he wouldn't have. He knows to ask you for it later.

You excuse yourself from the long table, your dinner in front of you looking great, but you were nowhere near hungry. When you push your chair back to stand, it makes a low noise against the floor of the garden, and his head whips to you immediately.

It was your friend group's traditional holiday you were gathered for, an annual week at Mirabel's family home right on the water. 4 girls and 5 boys, room assignments remaining relatively static throughout the years. There was that one year Clara and Sammy shared a room, but, as both of them would easily say, it wouldn't be happening again.

"Everything okay, y/n/n?" Peter asks from your diagonal, which makes more heads turn to your now standing figure. You let out an uncomfortable huff, disguised as a laugh. Charles can read you like his favorite book.

Your linen dress clings to your body, yet flows off you effortlessly. He remembers seeing it on a hook in your room, wondering how it would look on your figure when he pretended to not watch you change tops. Reality was always better than fantasy, this he knew for certain.

"I'm alright, just chilly. Want to grab my sweater."

"I'll go with you, want to charge my phone anyway," Emma smiles up at you from her seat, standing up as well.

Charles follows your figure with your eyes until you disappear into Mirabel's villa, then continues to pretend to be listening to whatever Peter has begun rambling about.

"Did you see the way he and Oliver left the pantry in disarray this morning?" Emma's practically hissing her disdain, her shorter legs pumping overtime to catch your gait. You were hoping she couldn't.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Charles," she gags. "Tried to cook breakfast, and of course it was shit. Can't believe you didn't know."

You did, you helped him clean it up.

"I feel like it's quite hard to burn oatmeal," you snort, scrubbing the pot.

"Too much sugar in the pot, I suppose. That's how you make yours, yes? With brown sugar?"

You look back at him from where he was leaning against the counter, watching you help him fix his mess. Oliver had cleaned up the spilled flour on the floor of the pantry, then ran out to get pastries from a bakery before the rest of the villa woke up and threatened his life.

"Surprised you remember how I like my breakfast," you say.

"Why?" he asks, cocking his head. "I know a lot about you."

You click your tongue, suddenly shy under his intentional gaze. Your focus is back on the pot, and a stubborn clump of congealed oats. Charles peers around the kitchen quickly, before coming up behind you, a large hand circling your waist.

"How did you sleep? I realize I didn't ever ask," He drops a kiss to the crown of your head when he finishes speaking, and your breath hitches. Not with love or affection, but with a strike of fear, almost. It was an open air kitchen, and while everyone seemed to be sleeping in, you never really could know who may be stirring about.

"Slept fine. Kept the windows open," you shared a room with Clara on these trips, you two were always the closest of the girls growing up and never minded sharing. She didn't say anything when you came in at 2 am with mussed hair and swollen lips, and you were grateful for it.

"You could have stayed, Joris didn't come in until late."

You finally bristle, dropping the pot onto the drying rack. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

You turn in his grasp, eyebrows frayed in the middle of your face. He hates when you look at him like this. "Y/n, we're not children anymore. We're two consenting adults."

"Emma will hate me."

"And is that worth your happiness? Whether or not your friend, who you aren't that close to, by the way, is mad at you?"

"You cheated on her, Charles."

You clear your throat as you blink away the memory. Emma scoffs again at the thought of Charles. "He even had the gall to come out on the patio at the same time as me this afternoon."

"Everyone was on the patio, Emma," you level, already getting irritated with her tone. She irritated you often, Charles wasn't necessarily wrong about your lack of proximity to her. She was always a bit bratty, but had too much history with the group to be left behind, no matter how much she seemed to irk everyone. "You can't expect him to walk on eggshells around you, he's still a part of the group."

Emma stops walking, but you keep pace. "Are you defending a cheater, y/n?" You're glad you didn't stop.

Your eye twitches, and you're glad that she can't see it. This conversation was draining you, yet it's barely started, and already, it's over. She did this nearly every time they were in the same vicinity, and it was getting old. Or maybe, it was the guilt that you were fucking her ex-boyfriend.

It was a mistake that they dated in the first place. He had just broken up with his long term girlfirend, someone you all never seemed to get along with, and Emma's eyes were always slightly googly for the boy. Her attention was more palpable, and better received, than the rest. So they began to fool around, began to hold hands a bit more at group dinners. You heard her say 'boyfriend' much more than he did, though.

The cheating was a bit egregious, even for Charles. For the sake of everyone's friendships, his romance with her was kept under wraps, the superiority of a professional PR team apparent over gossip columns and nosy fans. It was the nosy fans, unfortunately, that had found Charles in a club somewhere in Italy with his tongue down some model's throat.

She cried, shouted, did everything but rip her own hair out at the photos that surfaced. Perhaps it hurt her most that people were excited to see Charles with the woman, finally seen with someone that wasn't an engineer or Vasseur. They didn't know about her, and frankly, they never would. She was never terribly important to Charles, everyone knew that, and now she did too.

The group had moved on, sans Emma. No one really made fusses about it in the first place, their relationship running its course over only about 3 months. The boys saw it coming and, well, the girls had warned her. A rebound was always obvious to those watching.

The worst part, the part that made you feel so ill all the time, is Charles wanted to be yours, and you wanted to be anywhere but the villa.

You grab your sweater off of the chair at the vanity mirror in your room, bristling at the chill coming from the open window you had left during the night, and now day. You hear the laughter of your friends, of Peter shouting over Oliver, and Charles laughing from his belly. You hate that you can tell his laughter from the rest.

When you sit back down at the table, Clara waits for you to scoot your chair back in and place the napkin in your lap. "You lost her inside, eh?"

You crack a smile, Clara was your most blunt, and funniest, friend. "Had to, lest I hear about Charles's trespasses again."

Clara chuckles into her wine glass. "If only she knew."

In a lowered voice, you turn closer to her. "I think she may actually lose her mind if she found out, Clara."

She rolls her eyes. "Find out what? That you two are obsessed with each other, yet you won't take him seriously? That she was collateral? Shit happens."

"That's not what this is."

"Please. He'd marry you tomorrow if given the opportunity, y/n. Deep down, she knows that was never her anyway."

When you look back up at Charles, he's already looking at you, looking so endearing that you have to look back down at your chicken and roasted vegetables. You're still not hungry.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

It happened quickly, but the buildup seemed to make it inevitable. You were always a friend of the leclercs, your mother's growing an affinity for each other when you were quite young. You grew up alongside the boys, Charles always having a soft spot for you in particular. Charles escorted you every time your father hosted a gala, and voluntarily was your designated driver on nights out. One in particular, 6 months ago, sealed fates.

"Charlie, just take one shot."

"If I take a shot, I won't be driving," he laughs at you, looking at you with little twinkles in his eyes. He and Emma had just finally broken up, the past 3 months couldn't be categorized as anything but odd. After they had notified the group, in their own respective ways, you had seemed to have gotten your fun loving, a tad awkward, but always down for what you were plotting, Charlie back. He had agreed in a heartbeat to meet you and Clara at the club. It makes you grin.

"That's fine, uber exists. Have fun for once, please?" You pout, tequila speaking for you. Everything was already a bit hazy, much funnier than normal, and less serious.

"Yeah, come on Chaaaarlie," Clara giggles knowingly. He'd do anything if you asked for it, this was a fact.

With a shake of his head and faked disdain, he downs the shot, hears your cheers, and suddenly, one shot is seven and you're both screaming the lyrics to an old Fergie song that blasts through the speakers.

Heels were a bad, but stunning, idea. You felt cute and confident, but by the time you had stopped dancing like a mad person to get a drink of water, the balls of your feet began to throb.

"Please don't take your shoes off in this place," Charles begs.

"Don't be my father," you frown. "My feet hurt."

"Your feelings will be what's hurting when someone steals these off the section couch," he points to your feet, and there was a touch of validity. They were Jimmy Choos, after all, and cost more than you could comprehend. Charles often went overboard on your birthday gifts.

"I'll take that risk."

"I'll hold them."

"You won't," you say with a laugh, used to his dramatics. But he shocks you, gingerly picking them off the couch and holding them on his index and middle finger.

"Charlie, put my shoes down."

"I will do no such thing."

Somehow, somewhere between promising Clara you'd text her when the uber dropped you and Charles off at his place, helping him get the key into the lock of his door, and sitting on his kitchen island, Charles finds himself in between your legs, staring into your eyes that had glitter and mascara surrounding them.

It wasn't normal of "best friends" to be around each other like this. He knew that. He hadn't wanted to be just your best friend in a while though, but having you in that capacity was better than nothing at all. Especially when he had seemingly bounced from one girlfriend to the other, and deep down, he knew it was because he was bored. They weren't you, no matter how much imitation was attempted. Perhaps the only person who was aloof to his truest desires, was you.

"You looked very pretty tonight, y/n/n."

"You looked dashing yourself," you wink, "the girls in there told you that though, no?"

He rolls his eyes. "That wasn't anything. Just fans, same shit as usual."

"You usually are being hit on by pretty girls, is what you're saying?" You continue to tease. Charles can't stand your smart mouth sometimes, especially how much he can't help but love it.

"To be fair, I don't really notice. I'm always looking at you, anyway."

You don't have a response for that. He's never said it outright, never crossing the line. But now he has, and there's no going back.

"Charles, you just broke up with Emma."

"I know,"

"You cheated on her."

"I know,"

"I'm your best friend."

His turn to grin. "I know."

In a fashion completely unlike you, throwing caution to the wind felt like the only option, pulling him in with your legs, locking around the back of his waist, lips pressed onto his, hair between your fingers. He tastes like tequila and mint gum, like the things you regret yet adore. He wonders if this means the same to you as it means to him.

When you wake up in his bed, makeup removed and your favorite shirt of his draped over your body, you inhale deeply when you feel the familiar soreness stretching through your lower half, and the weight of his arm roped around your body. Now that you've gotten your taste, you weren't giving it up.

"Did you pack the aloe vera?" You hear him from your doorway, blinking back from yet another memory.

"'S in the bathroom, look in the blue toiletry bag," you call, not looking away from where you were taking your hooped earrings out in the mirror. It was a domestic encounter in a way, like a scene taken out of context 20 years from now. Maybe one day, you'd be on holiday with a family of your own, enjoying silence once your kids were asleep after playing in the water all day. Maybe you'd be actually sharing a room, instead of whatever the fuck this was.

"You seemed off at dinner, everything okay?" Charles asks, rubbing the gel on his soon-to-be-peeling nose.

"Fine," you shrug, turning back to look at him, and not just his reflection. "Just wasn't so hungry. And cold, like I said."

He chuckles a little to himself. "I could tell," he nods with his head down to your chest. Your nipples had pearled, and supposedly, had been pearled, and were obvious through the thin fabric of your fitting dress.

"Jesus Charles," you berate, turning back to your mirror. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm a man," he corrects. "Who's seen what's under that dress and thinks it's a great sight. But I also like your mind and your personality and all that, of course." Idiot. He sits on your bed, making himself comfortable against the headboard as he watches you get ready for bed. Domesticity. "Will you be going back to Monaco after this?"

"No, visiting Clara's family in the states for a little."

He makes a discontent noise. "How long?"

"A week," you answer. "Miami."

"Fun, going to go out?"

"What is it to you?" You ask, half jokingly, half alerted by his series of questions.

He shrugs this time. "Care about you, want to know what your plans are. Is it a crime?"

"No, just makes me fear you're in love with me."

"I'm on my way to that, I tell you that all the time. And you make jokes because you know it's true."

You stand up from the vanity, looking at him with an expression that makes his heart hurt. It's that wounded puppy look, the way you used to look at Arthur when Charles would tell him to fuck off from trying to hang out with the two of you as teenagers.

"I don't really know what to say when you say those things." He stands up from your bed, meeting you where you stand in the middle of you and Clara's room. He still smells just like all your favorite aspects of summer, and that tired look in his eyes from a day of relaxation and release melts you. "I know I'm in my head."

"'S a good head to be in." He moves the strans of your hair that were falling over your forehead behind your ear, smoothing his fingers over your jawline until his fingers lift your chin. "That's better. Couldn't see your face."

"What is this, Charlie?" Your eyes search his, and he hates how scared you look. "Like, seriously. We, we fuck, we sleep in the same bed more than we don't."

"We always have done that, you've shared with Enzo and Arthur before too I'm sure."

"Don't be dense."

"I think that's just how I am, mon amour."

"Such a shithead," you mutter with a huff, annoyed with his smug expression. "I'm being serious. If sex is just what you want, or need, right now, I don't think I can do this anymore."

"It's much more than that to me, don't insult me," He no longer has a grin on his face, mouth turned much more stoic. "My actions precede me, yes," you withold commentary on that, "but I'd never do anything to hurt you, y/n/n. I care about you, think about you all the time, want you wherever I am, always."

A part of you thinks this is what you've always wanted to hear. A gorgeous, successful, personable man who you've grown to trust infallibly your whole life is 5 feet short of professing his love for you, and yet, you can't let yourself fully be happy. Because for the last 6 months, you've ducked and dodged your own friends, not wanting them to know about the two of you. He did cheat, for crying out loud. On someone you have baby photos with. No matter how annoying, or selfish, she comes off, Emma wasn't going anywhere in your life. And you'd be devastated if she did this to you, so he remained your dirty little secret.

"Am I interrupting?" Clara says teasingly from the doorway, a wine glass still in her hands. "Sorry, Mirabel wanted me to check on you."

You clear your throat and step away from Charles. "Not at all. Charlie's got a sun burn."

"Ah. You are pale," Clara notes. "Figures."

"Thanks, Clar."

"Still drinking?" You nod toward her glass. "Pour me one, will you?"

"Sure will." She turns, and you make to follow.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, I think."

"Y/n,"

"Not right now," you say firmly, "please?"

And you've got that withered look, that look that screams exhaustion. Guilt's gonna kill him one day, he's sure.

"Fine."

And with that, you head out the door, leaving Charles in your room, regretting not telling you how he felt about you when his girlfriend told him to. Before Emma took that mantle instead, and before you started looking at him like it was hard to do so.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

Sammy brings it up first, but the entirety of the day was the beginning of the end of secrecy.

The next day had been decided as a boat day, everyone prepared for another long day in the sun, this time on the open waves. The girls had all gone below deck, in search of champagne and a bottle opener, and Sammy and Charles were far enough from Oliver, Joris, and Peter for them to hear a conversation.

"I've got a question I think," Sammy asks. He makes an affirmative noise, head leaned back against the cushions of the lounger, sunglasses sliding down his still peeling nose. "Are you and y/n hooking up?"

Charles immeditely looks up at Sammy, mouth open in a scramble for the most believable way to say no. "No, ah, why would you say that?" oh dear.

"Mate," Sammy winces.

"Fuck me," Charles yanks the glasses off and wipes both hands over his face. He keeps them there when he asks, "how?"

"Leaving hickeys is one thing, her jewelry on your bedside table is another." The central heating unit for their floor was in Joris and Charles's room, Sammy did go to adjust it yesterday morning. Fuck. "Does Emma know?"

"No," Charles says quickly. "No. Y/n doesn't want anyone to."

Sammy quirks his mouth to the side. "Well, are you dating?"

"No,"

"Ah." Sammy looks out on the water, stewing over this confirmed theory of his. You all suddenly appear from inside, cheering with a bottle clutched in Emma's hand, you with the opener. When he looks back at Charles, he sees that even though all four of you stand there he's looking at you. This must be sympathy for the devil, Sammy thinks, because why else is he feeling bad for someone whose problem was multiple attractive women had feelings for him?

"Charlie, can you help?" you pout, unable to get the cork loose from the bottle. It was obvious you were tipsy, drunk even, you all had been drinking since the sun came up.

"Fucks sake y/n, use your arm!" Clara groans. Sammy looks back at Charles, willing him with his brain to not be at your beck and call for once.

"I've got it," Charles chuckles, like an idiot, if you ask Sammy. He pops it, a cheer coming from the group at the appearance of bubbles and spray. It gets all over his hands as he attempts to hold the bottle away from his body, and he shakes the excess off as the cheers continue. Oliver whisks the bottle away to be divied up between everyone's cups, and Charles goes inside to wash his hands off. You slink off behind him, unbeknownst to him, or the rest of your friends, except for Emma, whose interest is piqued by your sudden absences.

"Thanks for the help," your voice is sweet in the silence of the kitchenette.

His head whips to your figure, slightly startled by your presence. You're barefoot, a brown bikini only covering what's absolutely necessary to be covered. He can't tell if he loves it or he hates it. Your open button up shirt tossed on as a cover up intrigues him, because, is that his?

"Is that my shirt?" Charles repeats, out loud this time, eyes trained like heat seekers as you move close. His hands lay in the towel, champagne still dripping off his fingers. You've seemed to have distracted his process.

"No, but it seems like you would love it if it was."

He raises his shoulders. "You're welcome to them."

You hum, "good to know." You're looking at him like prey, it makes his throat dry and he's not sure what to say. You're always the bubbly one, the sunshine when he's being grumpy and difficult.

Charles lifts his hands from the towel that he still hasn't utilized yet, pushing his luck by placing a hand on your hip. He plays with the string on your right hip, fingers begging to untie the bow. "You only like talking to me when we're in kitchens, huh?"

He makes you laugh with that, or maybe it's the alchohol making you do it. "I always like talking to you. It's you that can't keep hands to yourself."

A hand slides up his chest, resting casually, yet his heart races faster. That familiar, warm feeling settles in his lower stomach, and he wills himself not to harden like a teenager. "We both have a problem with hands, I see."

You tilt your head in challenge. You pull his hand off of your hip and lift it, analyzing the digits still drenched in champagne. And to his utter surprise, you take his index finger into your mouth. The eye contact you hold as you do so has his mouth dropping open slightly in a daze, mind going to static as he feels the warmth and wetness, the pucker of your lips. You hum as you release his finger with a pop, licking your lips.

"Don't think I have a problem with your hands at all, Charles."

Charles, not Charlie. He's ruined.

How you saunter away after that leaves him gobsmacked, flustered, and most of all, hoping this boat would be docking soon.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"I have an offer for you," is how you start the conversation. You're all showered, evening attire thrown on and awaiting the metaphorical dinner bell. The two of you plus Peter were sat out on the patio, and were left alone when Peter ran in to the bathroom for a moment.

"When I come back home, we should go on date."

Charles thinks he mishears you. "What?"

"A date, Charlie. You know, when two people who share a romantic interest go out toge-"

"Enough, smartass," He stops your condescension. "You would go on one with me?"

You take a deep breath. "Yeah, I would. I like you, and all that."

"And all that," he repeats. "What every man wants to hear."

"Do you want to go on the date or not?"

"I do, I really do. Have wanted to for a while, you know."

You smile softly, resting your head on the lounger. "I know."

"Dinner's ready," Emma comes out to announce. When she sees it's only the two of you, her expression changes slightly, something only you'd notice after years of experiencing emotions from her. "Where's Peter?"

"Bathroom," you answer easily. Emma looks at the two of you intently, and Charles turns towards the water, not really interested in making conversation with the woman who's profusely stated her aversion to him.

"Hm. Well, come down soon."

When she closes the glass doors, Charles all but laughs out loud. "What a nightmare."

"Your ex," you rebut, "can't believe that to this day. If you didn't like her, why'd you do it?"

"Because I didn't think I could have you."

His veins fill with regret when he says it, he knows its not fair. But it's true, you know it as well. "Well, no more collateral damage, then." You stand up from the lounger, brushing down your dress. "Pick a good restaurant for the date."

Dinner begins well, Mirabel telling stories and Oliver denying them all. It's when the laughter dies down after Joris recounts their last trip to Nice that things begin to slant.

"Y/n/n," Emma calls from down the table. You turn to her, as everyone does.

"Yeah, Em?"

"I just have been dying to know," she starts, clasping her hands under her chin. "How long have you and Charles been fucking?"

Peter chokes on his wine. The table is utterly silent, and everyone's face carries the same shocked expression. And, wow, you've pictured this moment dozens of ways and hundreds of times, but honestly, this one was rare form. But after everything, especially today, caution was once again to the wind.

"About 6 months," you calmly answer, reaching for your glass. "Give or take."

"You bitch," she hisses. "Are you not even ashamed of yourself?"

"Are you not going to address Charles in the slightest, or is it just y/n's fault that they have sex?" Clara asks, and Mirabel and Oliver can't help the snicker in their chests. Sammy takes another piece of salmon from the middle platter.

"Yes, I could have said something," you mull.

Emma looks around, utter disbelief on her face as it seems everyone's refusing to intervene on this one. You can't blame them, and those who did know, well, their wine glasses are filled.

Emma gets up from the table with a curse of Charles's name and a disgusted look your way, and Clara clears her throat.

"So, anyone have any recommendations for clubs in Miami?"

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff

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heynikkiyousofine · 1 year

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Inuyasha Bingo Bonanza 2022

Home Is Where the Pack Is

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Boisterous laughter filled the clearing, smiling faces lit up by the fire, as drinks and food were passed around. Even though the sun had set hours ago, summer was in full swing, the sound of cicadas humming in the distance. Hogs and deer were roasting above the flames, the tender meat ready to fall off the bone, while giant jugs of sake left them feeling warm and fuzzy. It’s the perfect night for a celebration.

Blue eyes glanced around at his tribe, the wolves chomping on bones and many of the demons joked with each other as two packs joined together. At the head of their den sat Koga and Ayame, Prince and Princess of the Eastern Ookami. As he sat next to his brother Hakkaku, Ginta finally felt whole.

“Hey Hak, can you believe we are finally celebrating those lovebirds' mating ceremony? I mean, three years ago, we were following Koga around as he hunted down Naraku, avenging our brothers’ deaths.”

“I know!” Hakkuku shoveled another bite of hog in his mouth, wiping the juice dripping down his chin before letting out a belch, “Who knew we would be back here, sitting with our pack after all the shit that went down?”

“Remember that time we ran into Inuyasha’s scary brother?” He shivered, the flash of Sesshoamru’s icy glare appearing across his mind.

“Dude, I know! I thought he was gonna kill us!”

“But did you hear that Kagome married Inuyasha? She came back after being gone for so long.”

“Our sister got mated?! That’s so great for them, we should go visit sometime.” Hakkaku waved the leg in the air as a couple of their brothers fought over some dead carcass nearby. Taking a swig of whatever the next jug they were passing around, Ginta nodded, agreeing. I wonder what it would have been like if Kagome had mated Koga? Then she would truly be our sister, but anyone could see how much she loved the hanyou. Except for the two of them, of course.

“I still can’t believe that she and Inuyasha took out Naraku the way they did. I mean, I know they were powerful, but that demon was walking hell.” Standing up, Ginta held up the pigskin as everyone quieted.

“As we are celebrating our Prince Koga’s mating to the beautiful Ayame, I want to also remember our fallen brothers. Naraku and his incarnations were responsible for the slaughter of our family, but they have been avenged. Tonight, when we laugh with each other, we should always remember the ones before us, the ones who gave their lives so we could have ours. ” He finished his speech, his words echoing around him.

“That was the sweetest thing ever.” Ayame wiped a lone tear, while Koga stood, holding his own hand up for silence as thunderous applause surrounded them.

“Ginta is correct. Over the last few years, we have lost the people we cared most about, we have helped defeat the darkest evil that has ever walked this earth, and for finding the one we will spend the next lifetime with.” He smiled, sliding his hand in Ayame’s outstretched one. “I couldn’t have done it without the two I’ve known since we were cubs, the two I’m proud to call my brothers.”

He knew the tears were coming, but wasn’t prepared for the waterfall of emotions that this night would bring, especially as his twin leapt up and hugged him with his own outburst. Everyone cheered and clapped louder, passing around more food and drinks as the night went on. Just as Koga and Ayame were about to head inside to start trying for cubs of their own, he pulled them aside, a light blush on his cheeks.

“I know I’m not one to get emotional and shit, but seriously, I wouldn’t have made it through the last decade without the two of you.” He smiled, his fangs glinting in the fading moonlight.

“We would follow you to the ends of the earth if we had to.” Hakkaku slung his arm over Ginta’s shoulders, his body heavy.

“We’re brothers.” Ginta shrugged, refusing to become a bundle of tangled emotions for the second time that night, “Wherever you are is home.”

“Ya know, the next celebration will be one of your mating ceremonies.” Koga bursted into laughter, running toward the cave’s entrance, a spark in his eyes. “Though I don’t know who would mind sharing with the other, but I’ll be front and center, cheering ya on.”

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@blairex ; @mamabearcat ; @enchantedink-ag ; @splendentgoddess ; @mandirox89 ; @sailorlolo ; @mustardyellowsunshine ; @hny-moroha ; @knittingknots ; @yukinon-writes ; @clearwillow ; @keichanz ; @serial-doubters-club ; @malditamigs ; @zelink-inukag ; @shinidamachu ; @bonny2323 ; @banksdelivers ; @that-one-nerdy-gal ; @sarahk21 ; @dchelyst ; @anisaanisa ; @lavendertwilight89 ; @otaku-108 ; @sailorbabydoll92 ; @inukagbot ; @queerkagome ; @bluehawaiicat ; @chit-a-to ; @liz8080 ; @lightmidnight ; @shikonstar ; @soliska ; @feudalconnection ; @inu-mothership

#ginta #hakkaku #inuyasha #Inuyasha Bingo Bonanza 2022 #inubingobonanza #pack #home #inu-mothership #feudal connection #inukag #koga #kogayame #koga x ayame

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poptod · 3 years

Note

hey there ☺ do you think you can write a soulmate au with ahk where you hear each other's thoughts? and ahk thought he didn't have one all these years only to hear you while he's at the museum and then you try to find each other?

notes: wonderful idea. also i noticed my method of doing requests is do it almost immediately after i get it or wait four months before i get it done so sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy this!

WC: 1.5k +

There are many versions of yourself, all talking over one another in an attempt to control your mind for once. Sometimes it's hard to decipher if your actions are the result of someone in your head tugging you in a different direction. There is the person you believe yourself to be––what you imagine you come off to people as. There is also the person you truly are, and what people actually perceive you to be. So despite there being several voices, they are all reiterations of yourself in some way.

Except for one.

One of them speaks in a voice that is not your own, in a voice you've never heard anywhere but echoing in your skull. Since you despised asking questions as a child, it took you until you were twelve to realize that no, you weren't insane. It was someone who would love you, who had the potential to grow close to you simply by the strings of fate. Your soulmate.

Someone who gave you nightmares for years.

'Get me out of here!' He would scream, sending your heart pounding while you tried to sleep as a child. 'Please, please, I need to see the stars,' he sobbed, 'I did nothing to deserve this!'

Once you grew old enough to deal with the screaming beyond what you thought was a schizophrenia disorder, nighttime brought a deep sadness to you. For some reason, your soulmate would never think during the day––which was incredibly odd––and during the night, the only time he was awake, he would scream and beg and cry until you could feel the hoarseness in your own throat. For your entire childhood, you stared up at your ceiling at night, eyes burning as you tried to calm the screaming.

It was all you could think about, as though the screams had muted your connection to him and strengthened his connection to you. Every now and then you would try to think, try to calm him down, but he never quite heard.

Then, one evening in winter, it stopped.

You were lying in bed, rolled onto your side as you once again listened to the man's yelling thoughts. But then he stopped, and both your hearts skipped a beat, followed by an incredibly clear thought: Thank the Gods, blessed Ra and Khonsu.

That evening you darted out of bed, jumping to your desk where you typed in with slamming, lightning-fast fingers, "khonsu." Ra you already knew––everyone knew Ra, and by connection Khonsu would probably also be a God. The only question you were left with was why you were hearing the thoughts of someone who worshipped Egyptian gods two thousand years after that civilization died.

As you continued your research, his thoughts continued.

They took my tablet?

Who are these people?

This man has no idea what he's doing, does he?

Why is he screaming at the Hun?

He's got my tablet.

About halfway into the night you gave up on your research, instead listening intently to the thoughts. With you entirely absorbed in your soulmates thoughts, you had little room to send your own words to him, which unbeknownst to you, would've reached him if you tried.

You weren't quite sure what to think of him for the following couple weeks. At first your assumption was that he was the insane one projecting his insane thoughts to you, but his quieter thoughts led you to believe there was something different in him. It is true what they say––geniuses are often tortured minds, and though you wouldn't classify your soulmate as a genius, he was clearly a knowledgeable philosopher of sorts.

He thought often of the human condition––the rise and fall of civilizations, the cruelty and the mercy of men that began the stories of bloodstained battlefields. Most of the time you just listened. Now that he wasn't screaming, his voice was soft and more of a comfort than you ever thought it would be.

Sometimes he got very sad. After a while you learned to not question the logic of his thoughts. Instead, you simply tried to understand what he meant, accepting him for where he was in his life.

I miss my brother.

I wonder what happened to my best friend.

I didn't think I would ever be this far from the Nile and the sun.

I abandoned my people, didn't I?

If only I could find where my sister was buried. Would that even make me feel better, though? What closure will I gain from seeing her tomb?

... if she even had one.

There's a melody going on in his head, right now. Something that could put you to sleep if you weren't currently working. It's nothing you've heard before, that you're certain of, and judging by the tone of it and your soulmate's previous thoughts, it sounds Egyptian.

Despite the museum being closed, most of the lights are still on. One of the night guards had a very strange insistence about it, but wouldn't tell you why. Oh well––questioning people is above your paygrade, since you aren't getting paid for this. It is volunteer work. Not that you mind; ever since realizing the voice in your head was Egyptian, you've gotten a palate for history. Currently, however, you're dealing less with history and more with files. The curator at this museum asked you to sort through the records of all the different exhibits that are here, or were once here at some point, which made a very large collection. Massive, actually––you're only sorting through A, and it's going to take you a couple weeks.

He's humming softly to himself. The tune carries into your work, and you allow yourself to enjoy his voice as you sort, going over every record to look for exhibits no longer displayed. For this you have a chart in your other hand––a log of all the exhibits currently public in the museum.

Although you're supposed to be concentrated on your sorting, you find yourself more entranced with the melody in your head, and the clearest thought that rings in your mind is, 'that is beautiful.'

The humming stops. Dead in its' tracks, about to reach its' peak, and it stops.

'My mother sang it to me,' he says, 'before I slept as a child.'

"Holy shit, are you talking to me?" You say out loud with bulging eyes before you can stop yourself. The moment you realize what you said, a bright blush coats your cheeks and you slap your hand over your mouth. But he doesn't seem to mind––actually, he laughs, and it's sweeter than summer sugar.

'You must be my heart,' he says in an astounded tone, and you can practically see his dream-filled eyes. You sit puzzled for a second before replying.

"Do you mean your soulmate?"

'Well... I suppose yes, that could be one of the names,' he says, and it only adds more onto the lists of questions you have for him.

"What is your name?" You ask first, hardly realizing you're still talking aloud to yourself.

'My name is Ahkmenrah," he tells you, and it takes less than a millisecond before the dots connect in your head. Instantly your eyes dart to the sheet in your hand, and near the top of the list, there it sits––Ahkmenrah.

'I know this must be confusing for you,' he continues, 'but I am from another time. While I lived then, I dreaded that I didn't have a heart, as I heard no voice. That fear has carried on into my next life, but now that you're here –'

"Oh I'm here alright," you say, unbelieving of both your circumstances and your unblinking acceptance at them. "I'm, like, two floors below you."

"WHAT?!"

A voice from above catches you, but as the same word rings in your mind, you realize with great glee that he instinctively yelled 'what' without thinking. You laugh, and the thought of your laughter reaches him.

Less than a minute later you can hear footsteps pounding down the stairs, landing at the closed door before the handle wrenches open. You quickly move to your feet, facing the man whose voice you know so well, who haunted your childhood and enchanted your adulthood. You can barely hide the grin that spreads across your face––whatever magic has brought you to this moment, you thank everything you can for it, your attention ensnared by the soft features of a 4,000 year old Pharaoh.

He pauses once he enters the archive, eyes finding yours immediately. His mouth hangs open slightly as he scans you, absorbs every feature on your body and face, and barely moves even to breathe for a good minute or two.

"I – I'm sorry, I j – I just realized I didn't ask your name," he says quietly, a small, ginger smile growing on his lips.

"(Y/N)," you say, but you don't quite know how your brain worked to make the word. You certainly didn't consciously choose to speak.

"I have waited thousands of years for you," he says, impossibly softer as he steps forward. He's really quite harmless, you realize––for all the fear you had of him as a child, he's nothing but a sweet-faced boy.

"Was it worth it?" You ask, and your voice cracks ever so slightly.

"My heart," he breathes out, affection lacing his name for you, "it was worth every second."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

#tig trager #tig trager x oc #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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the-weeping-author · 3 years

Text

Reacquainted

A/N: hey so this is a AU! Where Eren and the reader are both 18.. so yeah lol I hope this is good.. this is my first fic into the anime fandom, and more importantly my first fic of the AOT fandom so request are open. I have a list of characters I write for so feel free to request I write angst, fluff, and smut.

Taglist: @augustweb @harrystylesupremacy

Warnings: bullying kinda?? cussing, slight angst, SEX!! 18+ quickie, oral , stimulation. Dirty talk, unprotected sex slight choking,

Summary: Y/N and Eren had parted ways as children, one wanted it the other didn't. Y/N's life was just fine until a certian brown haired guy showed up at scouts one day. Will Y/N and Eren make up?

Word count: 5,728

Enjoy 😊

Eren and I had been friends since I could remember, we were close growing up. Eren and I were as thick as thieves, but slowly over time there became a HUGE disconnection between us. I never understood when or why it had happened, but it did and it put a strain on Eren and I. It hurt more than anything, our families had always been close, but maybe that was our downfall. We had always spent summers together at the lake house.

The lake house was just 30 minutes away from the wall, and Eren and I would always ask why Titans never showed up like they did around the walls. Our parents never told us, but my father always brushed me off, and told me I wasn't old enough. I never understood what he meant until that day 9 years ago, back then I had everything.. a family, a home, friends, comfort. Now I have nothing, I was truly alone. I knew what my father was talking about now. To be a warrior you would have to be willing to sacrifice everything, and guess what? That's exactly what I did, that's what made me lose everything including Eren.

Losing everything wasn't what I wanted, but who did? I was foolish back then. I was childish and gullible about the real world, I never knew how cruel and cold the world was until the wall came down for a second time 4 years after the first. Eren leaving my life was what finally did it for me, and I thought there was no escaping the cold dark thing that I called my soul. No one was let in. It was like the whole world around me stopped, and I started to distance myself more and more from everyone.

It wasn't until I decided to join the scouts that I felt alive again, just going out and taking all the built up frustrations out on the Titans. After all, they are the reason why I am the way I am. Tell me who wouldn't feel the way I do after they lost everything then on top of that to get stabbed in the back by someone who claims to be your best friend. Eren and I had stopped talking around three years ago, and honestly it's not gonna change anytime soon.

I'll never forget the day Eren told me he didn't want to be friends anymore. In fact I'd never forget that day for as long as I lived, the day had started sunny and beautiful. The sun was warm dancing across the city, the wind was blowing just enough to send a nice calming breeze through the hot summer Hills. The birds had sung happily that morning, the air had finally felt lighter. For once everything felt… Okay, but there was no telling how long that would last.

~FlashBack~

"Y/N… why are you always so hopeful?"

I turned my head to Eren, my green eyes Shining in his gray ones. I smiled softly before he intertwined our fingers together, I laid my head on his shoulder. I Felt his toned body tense under my simple movement, and I hummed softly looking out upon the town of Shiganshina. I thought it over for a brief moment before I let out a breath answering softly.

"Well Eren, I believe that if we succumb to the horrors of life we fail not only as warriors, but as humans too. I'll never succumb to the enemy or anyone for that matter."

The few minutes of silence made me lift my head off his shoulder, and look at him. His face was unreadable, and it threw me off. Did he have this expression the whole time? Why ask a question if you were just gonna ignore it? Before my mind could go any further into the negative thoughts Eren's voice pulled me from my thoughts making me let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

"Y/N.. we can't do this anymore."

I looked at him, my eyes quickly searched his face for more indication of what he meant. I watched his jaw clench before he unclenched it. His hand slowly slid out my hand, he pulled it back into his lap leaving my hand alone. My stomach flipped, and immediately it locked up making my stomach twist making me nauseous.

"W-what do you mean Eren?"

His gray eyes finally locked with my green ones, and he stood up turning his back towards me before walking away. I quickly stood up, and followed after him.

"Can't do what anymore? Eren answer me!"

He stopped in his tracks, and he stood up, turning away from me. He dusted off his hands as he started walking away from me. I stood, and I clenched my fist squeezing my eyes shut as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I felt my heart pound against my ribcage, and my lip started to quiver. When I opened my eyes my sight was hazy from the tears getting closer, and closer to breaking the dam.

Eren let out a breath, and he looked up at the sky. The grey clouds hid what was left of the beautiful blue sky. I knew his next words were gonna change the rest of my life, I stared at the brown locks covering his head. Before I knew it tears were sliding down my face, after a few silent sobs I wiped my nose sniffling a bit. Immediately I regretted it. Eren looked over his shoulder looking at me, and when his suspicions were confirmed he let out a "Tsk." He took in a breath before looking away from me.

"I can't be your friend anymore, don't try to change my mind because it's already made up. I don't need you around, you're too gullible to have around, you'll just get yourself killed after all… you're weak."

My eyes widened, and I dropped to my knees, balling my fist sitting them in my lap. I felt a few cold drops fall onto my thighs, and I looked up at the gray sky. A few cold rain drops dripped on my burning face as the realization hit me, I was alone. I let out a gut wrenching scream as Eren disappeared out of my life.. forever. I hunched over, and I let the once quiet sobs out my body, Jolting forward as each sob broke through me.

"Why me, I'm only 10 years old, why am I alone? Doesn't anyone love me?"

~End Of FlashBack~

I was walking down the street to a small building where the scouts would change, I walked into the Women's side and quickly put my training uniform on. I looked at the clock on the wall, and my eyes widened. The clock read 5:50 am.. shit If I didn't leave right now I'd be five minutes late, and Captain Levi hands out extra punishment to those who are late. It had been two years since I've joined, and I hadn't been late this far and I definitely didn't plan to start now.

I rushed out of the building, and when the wind hit my face I immediately started running. Two years on and off the field, and I didn't want to stop training. I was always quick to learn new moves, or get better at hand to hand combat. When I finally reached the field I stopped to take big breaths, and a voice caught my attention making my blood run cold. He couldn't be here... of all days why today, why me? My green eyes quickly found the voice that made my heart drop to my feet.

Eren Yeager.. my Ex best friend, the anchor that once held my body firm in the ocean unscathed by the violent waves. My eyes started to burn, and my throat started getting itchy. His gray eyes met with mine, and when Mikasa, Armin, and Levi turned towards me I quickly turned my head, and rushed the opposite way. My wrist was grabbed by someone, and my head shot up to meet Hanji''s gaze, concern sketched onto Their face.

"Y/L/N are you alright?"

I nodded my head, and I mustered up the best smile I could give them at the moment. I parted my lips softly before taking in a breath before letting it out.

"Yes Hanji I'm fine, thank you for asking."

They smiled at me before intertwining their arm with mine, and before I knew it we were walking towards the little group.. including Eren immediately I stopped in my tracks making them get pulled backwards towards me a bit at the sudden lack of movement. When Hanji turned their head to look at me, confusion was written all over their face. They followed my eyes as I glanced at Eren, and they let out a knowing oooh.

"I see now Y/L/N, your disturbance is between you and Mister Yeager. Am I correct?"

Before I could say anything they quickly cut me off their eyes shined at me softly before their lips turned upwards into a smile.

"Ah well whatever is going on you can't let it affect

you to the point where you can't be there for your team. That will only get them and you killed, so please for our sake along with yours please handle this however hard it may be. After all, what would I do if my favorite scout got killed?"

I listened to Hanji intently. I knew I couldn't face him, but Hanji had a point. This "issue" could jeopardize the safety of not only myself, but others and I wouldn't be the reason hundreds of us got killed. How could I approach Eren? Why would I? Would he even talk to me? Hanji''s voice pulled me from the depths of my own hectic thoughts. I'd have to thank them later in the mess hall, but I did plan to talk to Eren.. just not today.

The day of training was spent avoiding Mikasa, Armin, but especially Eren. A part of me envied two of the three of the trio, I was currently sparring with a new scout. My eyes looked towards Eren every once in a while, but this time it got the best of me. As soon as Eren lifted one of the trainees off the ground making his firm muscles flex. I can't help but wonder how-... I was instantly pulled from my thoughts by a fist meeting with my face.

I fell against the dirt of the huge field, I held the side of my face shaking the hit off. When I raised my head a bit I saw a few people looking over at us, Eren included. A slight smirk was on his face as his peers looked on, and I felt my blood instantly boil. I wanted to go over there, and wipe that eat shit smirk off his face. The person I was training with held their hand out to me, and I instinctively slapped his hand away. I stood up, and I dusted myself off getting into a strong sturdy stance. Of course instinctively it was the one Eren had taught me when we were kids.

Training had ended, and I couldn't be happier. My body ached, and when I showered the hot water helped ease my aching bones. Once I changed back into my regular clothes I walked into the mess hall, once I got my dinner I sat at a table alone. I started eating until I felt eyes on me, and with a quick flash I noticed Eren walking my way out the corner of my eye. I gulped, and I gripped my cup tightly. As he got closer and closer my heart thumped harder, and harder.

Mikasa, and Armin were across the mess hall watching Eren get closer. I prayed to whatever was up there he wouldn't be coming to talk to me. That it was just exhaustion altering my mind, however I was quickly mistaken when he sat right in front of me. His Gray eyes stared into mine calmly. We just stared at each other not knowing what to say, he was basically a stranger to me. He wasn't my Eren Yeager anymore, and I didn't know where to begin to search for him.

"Hey Rosie."

My stomach dropped hearing him use the nickname he used to call me. The butterflies in my heart almost gave in, and acted like nothing happened. It had though, he abandoned me like I was a nobody to him. Rosie came from my feelings towards him, every little thing he did made me blush, or get flushed. I always disliked blushing until he called me that nickname. I used to love it, but now resentment constantly burns through my veins.

"You don't get to call me that anymore."

The smirk that was once on his face faltered a bit, and he just stared at me. Neither one of us spoke, the air was thick with tension. He looked as cute as I remembered he did, his eyes still the color of the sky on a rainy day. His lips still looked as soft as ever, he looked exactly the same, but older. My Stomach turned with every glance I took at him. My thoughts were all over the place, why here? Why now? Is he gonna hurt me just like he did back then? What if he did still care about me?

"No Remember Y/N he's not your Eren anymore you don't know him, he never cared about you. He never will, he doesn't-."

As my thoughts swirled through my head like a tornado on a dark spring evening. I felt my face get warm, and my bottom lip started to tremble softly as tears stung my eyes. His deep intoxicating voice pulled me from my overbearing thoughts, he whispered across the table to keep some sort of privacy between us, his lips parted softly.

"Oh? Well why is that?"

His warm voice pushed any decent thought away, he sounded so stupid.. Why is that? Are you serious? He has to be joking right? I licked my lips before I squeezed my thigh softly. Once I cooled off some I cleared my throat, my back straightened in the chair. I wasn't gonna play his game, not now, not ever his game of cat and mouse was over. I was no longer gonna let Eren Yeager hurt me the way he had.

"You know exactly why Eren Yeager, if you want to talk to me about why you haven't talked to me in years please refrain from playing stupid. It doesn't fit you."

I grabbed my tray, and I stood from the table walking away from the table but more importantly I walked away from him. It felt good to walk away from him, but unfortunately I knew we'd have to talk sooner or later. Mikasa, and Armin both smiled at me softly. I nodded my head at them both before I kept walking, leaving everyone in the mess hall behind me. Little did I know a plan was getting made while I slept the night away.

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

I woke up to the birds singing, and I smiled to myself before throwing the covers off of me. I got ready for the day taking care of my morning duties. Once I finished breakfast I brushed my teeth, and after I was done I grabbed the mouthwash, swished it around my mouth and spit it in the sink. I braided my hair while I walked down the hallway, I stopped when I heard Captain Levi's voice.

"I'll let her know when I see her, for now go to the field I'll see you out there."

I heard footsteps get further, and further away until I couldn't hear them anymore. Once I knew for sure the conversation was over I stepped out walking around the corner seeing Captain Levi standing there, and I smiled softly walking up to him.

"Morning Captain."

He raised his head, and turned towards me. The blank expression on his face as he nodded his head at me his raven hair moved at his simple movements.

"Morning Y/L/N I was just about to come looking for you."

My smile faltered a bit at his words, and I tensed up a bit remembering the conversation I eavesdropped on. My heart dropped a bit, and my hands started to get clammy. I pushed the smile back onto my face, and I started to play with the end of my shirt.

"Well here I am sir, what's on your mind?"

He let out a breath, and he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. My heart almost stopped, Levi was never one to express himself no matter the situation. So to say I was nervous was an understatement, I'm sure Captain Levi could hear my heart hammer against my ribcage. I took a soft deep breath preparing myself for whatever he had to say.

"Well Y/L/N I've heard from a few of your comrades that you've been working hard, and you've taken some of the discipline I've given them.. is that true?"

My blood ran cold, I knew he was about to give me kitchen duty, or worse he was gonna make me clean the rooms again. I immediately deflated at his words, I was ready to take whatever he was gonna give me.

"Well Y/L/N as much as I am displeased by your actions, the same comrades offered to take your punishment In return for you having the day off from training so go knock yourself out."

My mouth dropped open at his new claim, my eyes scanned across his face to try and see if he was lying, which I already knew the answer to. I closed my mouth, and I licked my lips letting the moisture circulate in my mouth. My eyes looked back to him, and I smiled softly at him looking into his gray eyes.

"T-thank you Captain, I uhh really appreciate it. If you don't mind me asking who exactly told you about what I did?"

His eyes looked back into mine, and he let out a huff. This is the most I've heard him talk, except for when he's with Erwin in the mess hall or barking orders at us. Other than that it was silence, but I had to know who exactly got themselves in trouble for me.

"Well I probably shouldn't tell you, bit Armin, Connie, Jean, Sasha, and Eren."

My stomach twisted at him mentioning Eren, and my smile faltered just for a split second. Levi definitely noticed, and I knew he was gonna pry. I didn't want him to, but he's my Captain and I can't lie to him. Even if I did he'd see right through it, and I wasn't gonna let that happen at all. I'd have to run laps, clean, dishes, clean oh and did I mention CLEAN!? don't get me wrong, I loved cleaning, but not after a bunch of slobs.

"Oh well thank you for letting me know Levi, thank you oh and tell them I said thank you too."

Levi did a double take when I didn't say anything else. He looked normal, but I could tell there were a few things he had to say. I went to turn back around to get ready to go into town, but his voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh by the way Y/L/N… you need to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and I can tell you've been distracted lately."

I turned my head to face him, and I nodded my head at him. When he started walking the other way I did the same, when I reached my room I changed into a pastel pink summer dress. I let my hair down, and I brushed it out slipping on a pair of my black flats walking out of my room. When I reached outside the warm sun kissed my skin, and I closed my eyes for a moment humming softly.

I said hello to the scouts that passed me on my way by, I hummed a little tune as I walked. I felt eyes on my body, and I stopped midwalk looking around trying to find who was looking at me. When I didn't see anyone I just shrugged it off before I continued to walk. It wasn't until I got to a secluded area that I felt eyes on me again, and this time I stopped completely, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Okay whoever is following me, come out you're starting to annoy me."

As soon as the last word left my mouth I heard footsteps, I turned around, and my breath hitched seeing Eren come out from behind a wall. My lips parted, and I put my hand up stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't you dare come any closer Eren or I'll drop you where you stand."

A look flashed across his face I didn't recognize, and he smiled softly at me before he got closer to me.

"Oh Rosie, you still have such a temper, I thought you were gonna drop me?"

My mouth opened and closed every few seconds searching for something to say, when my hand pressed against his toned chest. A pink tint crossed my cheeks, and I let out a huff seeing his face. Anger quickly flows through me all over again before I just let my top blow.

"Eren, who do you think you are? You can't just say what you said, and then years later just come waltzing back in my life wanting me to act like nothing happened cause it definitely did."

His eyes narrowed a bit, and I saw the side of his mouth twitch. I could tell he was mad, the sudden urge to slap him was eager in my mind. I quickly swallowed that urge, and I decided to let him defend himself If he planned on it. The Eren I once knew was warm, sweet the list goes on, but the new Eren was a huge ass.

"Y/N it wasn't like that, I was only trying to protect you."

"Protect me? Eren you hurt me, you've been a dickasaurus rex."

His eyes widened at the new nickname, and before I knew it he was dragging me along with him. I tried to get out of his grasp, but unfortunately it wasn't working so I just walked quickly with him. We walked down a hallway taking two lefts and a right, and when he opened the room door I looked around the hallway noticing we were alone. When he pulled me into the room I quickly turned around, and tried to escape.

"Y/N I know I hurt you, but I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us. I know you hate me, but please just forgive me. I've wanted to reach out, but I never knew how I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me."

He pulled me back around to face him, and my heart softened at his words, but I couldn't just forgive him could I? He hurt me, and I wouldn't let him do it again. I refused to be his fool or anyone's fool again, I tried to repair myself over the past few years, and I wouldn't let Eren break down what I accomplished.

"Eren you told me and I quote. "you didn't need me around, I was too gullible to have around, I'd just get Myself killed after all… I'm weak" you know that stayed with me for a long time, but I joined the scouts instead of listening to you. I'm glad I did because I proved to you, foe's, and anyone who doubted me that I am strong, and that I could save myself if needed. So my question to Eren is if I'm so weak and we weren't good friends why have you been trying to get me to talk to you?"

Eren didn't reply for a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed just like mine did earlier. Now it was my turn to do the smirking, I knew I was fueling his fire, but I didn't care. It felt great to finally tell him how I felt and just get it off my chest. Before he could say anything I turned back towards the door, and started walking towards it.

"Eren I'll see ya around, I'm not wasting anymore of my -."

Before I could get the rest of my sentence out he was pulling me back towards him, and as soon as I faced him our lips met. It woke every part of my body up, and I was just frozen to the ground. It wasn't until he pushed me back against the wall that it registered within me what exactly was going on. My body ached for Eren, and I didn't know it until this moment. The way his lips fit against mine, or the way his rough hands moved against my soft skin.

My hands went to his pants undoing the button, and I pulled down his zipper. I let my warm fingers curve into his pants before yanking them down, and his boxers were quickly following his pants stopping around his ankles. I bunched his shirt in my hands, and I flipped us his back smacked against the wall as I pushed him against it. I dropped to my knees, and I looked up at him waiting for his permission. He let out a soft grunt, and I looked up at him, and my breath was caught once again.

Anger was slightly evident in his eyes, but his pupils were blown with lust. I hummed softly at his reaction to the cold wall making me smirk again so I decided to tease him a little bit.

"Awee what's wrong? Did little Rosie hit a nerve?"

I let out a knowing giggle, and before he could respond I was taking his hardening cock into my mouth. I moved my head softly back and forth around Eren making his hand instinctively go into my long H/C locks. I opened my eyes feeling the sentimental contact, and when I looked up it made the knots in my stomach twist tighter. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and the way his bottom lip tucked tightly between his top and bottom teeth just made my thoughts fuzzy.

Hollowing my cheeks around him made his grip in my hair grow tighter, and each time I moved my head forward his his jolted to meet my face. His now hard cock roughly grazed the back of my throat making my eyes squeeze shut, when my lips met the base of his manhood he used the hand that held onto my hair in place. I let my hands softly graze his thighs until I needed air, and when the time came I gave both of them a firm squeeze.

When he let my head go I quickly pulled back gasping for air, only a moment passed before he was burying his cock back into my willing mouth. when he slid back into my mouth something changed him, and I definitely wasn't complaining after all I wasn't glass. I used my pointer, and middle finger to tap his bare thigh softly before I tightened my mouth around him, feeling his hard throbbing cock against my swollen plump lips. The arousal pooling between my legs proved how much I wanted- (more like needed) him at this moment.

I wanted Eren so bad there was no denying it, in fact I'd be a fool if I denied it. Anyone could tell I was head over heels for the boy I grew up with regardless if he knew it or not. I wanted this just as much as he did, but we were both too stubborn to admit it on our own Accord. I knew this was bound to happen at some point. Some people call it fate, I call it intuition. The way his breath got heavy when I swirled my tongue around the tip of his member just made me want to do more.

Our eyes stayed locked together even as I teasingly moved my head back and forth sliding my wet lips down his member, and when I got half way down I moved my head back letting just the tip of his cock rest in my mouth. I sucked softly on it at first letting him catch his breath, and one look up at him was all it took for me to know he was holding himself back. The look of hesitation was very evident in his eyes, when I let the tip of his cock slide out of my mouth I heard him groan out of annoyance.

"W-wha- Why did you stop?"

I looked up at him humming softly before I kissed his swollen tip, making his breath falter as the taste of precum spread across my lips dancing onto my taste buds.

" I still dislike you, but Stop holding back Eren, I want this just as much as you do."

He nodded his head, and he grabbed my H/C hair wrapping it around his fist before he started jolting his hips back and forth into my mouth. The lewd wet noises leaving my mouth were enough to get a response from Eren.

"S-shut u-up you make it very hard to concentrate, and that's not a complete compliment."

I pinched his thigh softly at his smart remark, and before I could reply he shoved his hard cock into my mouth immediately burying it in the back of my throat making me Gag almost instantly. I slid my hands back on his thighs, and I squeezed my eyes shut moaning loudly defining vibrations around his throbbing member.

"S-sorry, but ugh. Couldn't let you think you had control."

After a few moments passed he let my head slide half way off his throbbing cock before he pushed it back down to the base of him. After a few moments the actions repeated, and at this point tears started pooling at the corners of my eyes. When he let his cock slid out of my mouth it twitched as the cool air hit his warm salivated cock.

"Get up."

Before I could get up his arm was wrapping around my arm yanking me up. Before I could get my balance I was being shoved against the wall, and he fumbled with the button of my pants undoing them. His fingers pulled my zipper down, and with one swift movement my pants and panties were on the floor. The breeze from his quick moments brushed against my wet arousal making me shudder softly against the cool wall, my perky nipples brushed against the concrete wall making me moan softly.

"E-Eren.."

"Spread your legs."

My mind wanted to tell him to fuck off, but my body reacted before I could get myself together. Before I knew it I was spreading my legs for him.. exactly as I was told.. thanks alot to whoever was watching, I hope you're happy. The feeling of the tip of his cocl rubbing against my soaked folds made me roll my hips against him sliding my folds back and forth on him, the way he sounded when he groaned was intoxicating itself.

When he pushed himself into me it was like striking a match, every inch of my body was on fire, and I didn't want it to be extinguished. I immediately squeezed his hard cock, and as it stretched me out I felt it twitch and throb as it went further and further into me. I let my head slide back against his shoulder as he started thrusting softly into me, his pace wasn't enough to cause any discomfort, but it surely got me used to taking him the more he thrusted into me.

The sound of our skin connecting, and our lewd noises echoed in the room. Little drops of sweat broke out across my forehead as he pulled himself halfway out, and rammed himself deeper into me hitting my g-spot. I arched my back into him making his cock hit at a better angle, the tip of his cock raked across my g-spot with each thrust making me squeeze his hard shaft. The knots in my stomach started making itself more evident, and my breath picked up.

His hand snaked around my hip softly going to my clit, and when his hand pressed against it I moaned against the wall the vibrations made my little tickle. I bit my bottom lip softly letting out a whimper, and his lips pressed against the top of my ear. His tongue slid across the warm skin, and when his teeth sunk into my sensitive skin I let out another louder moan. His hips snapped against my ass making the sound bounce louder off the walls, each time his cock raked against my g-spot I felt myself getting closer and closer.

I felt my walls flutter around him, his break brushed against my wet skin making goosebumps dance across my skin as his voice softly whispered in my ear.

"You can cum If you want Rosie."

Hearing his words were enough to make my orgasm crash over me, but the use of my childhood nickname gave it more of a surreal feeling. Little white stars blurred my vision, and when I closed my eyes they seemed to multiply. I rolled my hips on him as I rode out my orgasm, and I soon felt his warm seed go onto my back. As he rode out his orgasm he fell against my back his heart pounding against my back.

His breath was heavy, and he kissed my shoulder softly moving up my neck. I let out a huff, as much as I'd like to pretend everything was okay I just couldn't. Just because we had sex doesn't mean that I forgave him, and he knew it. I may have given in this once, but I already made my mind up. As much as I loved Eren Yeager for now we were just acquaintances who just so happened to get reacquainted with each other.

When he nuzzled against my jaw my eyes moved to the corner of my eyes so I could look at him, and when I did my breath hitched. His grey eyes were soft, and his smile was warm.

"Rosie.. I've missed you, and I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

I looked at him, and I hummed kissing the top of his damp head before moving my head away, closing my eyes letting out a soft breath.

"I've missed you too Eren, and don't worry it's gonna be okay one day."

A/N: thank you so much for reading!! I appreciate it alot, and thank you for the support it means the world to me!! I do birthday request fics so if you have a birthday coming up I worth for Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager, and Steve Harrington for now!! I hoped you guys liked it mores on the way.

#eren yaeger imagine #attack on titan smut #eren yaeger x y/n #eren yeager smut #attack on titan #eren yeager angst #Destiny's anime fics

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antipodeanpineapplelump · 3 years

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WIP... Tuesday?

Just in case anyone was wondering what useless novelty project I’m spending my time on now, may I introduce:

Or more accurately: “Shisui Uchiha and the Saga of the Overly Complex Movie Poster that’s Taking Up all of the Author’s Writing Time.”

Or: “Shisui Uchiha and the One-off Story that Accidentally Turned Into a Trilogy, much to the Author’s Total Lack of Surprise.”

So anyway, I have 30,000 words (3/9 chapters of the first part) so far and as usual, no timeline for completing this story. But I’m definitely in too deep to back out now! My new approach to stories is to write the whole thing, then post week by week. So this one is still probably several months away at least...

But here’s a quick preview:

The list of things Shisui Uchiha regrets in his life is pretty small.

A handful of ill-considered one night stands, several embarrassing bets with members of his family, the summer he decided to turn emo, oh—and one particularly notable fuck-up early in his career that very nearly ended it prematurely. But, for the most part, it’s been smooth-sailing.

Sure, maybe the odd rival takes a pot shot at him here or there. Ancient booby traps try to kill him, or the local wildlife steps in where they’ve left off. He and spiders are categorically never going to get along. But he’s never had cause to regret his career itself. He loves everything about treasure hunting—the adventure, the danger, the intellectual challenge of it all. The way his heart races when he finds some ancient artifact supposedly lost for good.

So, all in all, his current position—perched twenty feet up a silk cotton tree in India, surrounded by about two-dozen armed thugs personally out for his blood—well, that’s just another day at the office.

Two of the men walk below Shisui’s hiding place and he holds his breath, watching. They’re thick-built meat-heads; improbable amalgams of every jackbooted thug to ever grace a movie screen, with jawlines Chuck Norris could break a fist on, and brows that would make a Neanderthal proud. Supressing the snicker that threatens to escape him at the thought, Shisui wonders where Gato keeps finding these idiots. Some sort of steroid-fuelled body building conference maybe…

Comfortable they’re far too stupid to realise he’s here, he swings his legs back and forward, checking his bag to make sure his prize is still undamaged. Thankfully, despite having beaten a hasty retreat through the crowded city streets, the jewel-encrusted golden elephant winks up at him like a winning lottery ticket. One that’s going to pay for fancy canapes, champagne and extra leg room on Shisui’s flight home. Then a lot more afterwards.

But karma, as they say, is a bitch.

And karma, for Shisui, makes itself known in the form of a fluffy grey creature that plops down onto the branch beside him, joined in short order by half a dozen other partners in crime. At first, the macaque just fixes its intelligent gaze on Shisui, as though assessing what to do with him. Then, one very pregnant pause later, after the apparent realisation that no food is immediately forthcoming, the ringleader opens its mouth and screams. Loudly.

Shit.

“No, shhh…” Shisui orders in a loud whisper. “Oh come on, don’t be an asshole.”

The screaming continues, soon swelling to a cacophony as the others join in.

“Shoo!” he pleads, waving his arms around to try and scare them off. “I’ll buy you bag of bananas or something when I get down from here, just please shut up…”

But the little bastards don’t stop and, if anything, Shisui’s heated objection only seems to be pissing them off more. Which is fantastic, because truly the last thing he needs today is to catch rabies or—

From the bottom of the tree, someone clears their throat. “Ahem.”

Or that.

It’s smug, officious, and quite frankly, about the last voice Shisui wants to hear right now. Every part of him sinks. On reflection, maybe it was a bit arrogant to think he wouldn’t have been followed to the temple. To think he was just going to walk in, pilfer a several-centuries old treasure, and walk out again, a comfortable five-figure sum the richer for it.

But then, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Sighing, he looks down to see his least-favourite human approximation of a turd. “Gato.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite globe-trotting Uchiha. Fancy seeing you here,” Gato says, appearing inordinately pleased. His trademark sunglasses sit awkwardly atop his bulbous nose, straddling a pencil moustache that looks like a worm met its unfortunate end on his face some years ago, and he never bothered to wipe it off.

For reasons he can’t currently articulate, it annoys the shit out of Shisui. Possibly because if there’s anything he hates more than someone getting the better of him, it’s someone who’s as much of a fucking waste of space as Gato getting the better of him.

“Yeah well, you know how it is,” he says, glancing around for a quick exit. “Ancient treasures to find, damsels in distress to rescue…”

But unfortunately, the crowd of highly armed men around Gato is growing by the second, and Shisui’s options are looking somewhat thin on the ground. At least, all the ones that don't end with him riddled in bullet holes. Damn macaques…

Gato grins. In the pre-monsoon heat, sweat rolls down his neck and spreads like an oily stain across his collar. “Oh, I’m well aware of how you operate... You’re a businessman, just like me. Always taking jobs for the highest bidder.” Before Shisui can open his mouth to disagree, Gato holds up a hand, adding, “I know, I know… you don’t see yourself that way. Moral code or whatever it is you like to call it. But in reality, the only difference between us is that you have the air of legitimacy that comes with an academic backing, whereas I’m willing to admit what I really want.”

“And what do you want, Gato?” Shisui asks flatly, already knowing the answer. The tired old game they’re playing here.

“That trinket you have in your bag.” Gato licks his lips, as though he can taste the champagne he’s going to be drinking once he returns the statue to whoever hired him, to disappear into some private collection, never to see the light of day again.

“What do I get in return?” Shisui asks, even though it’s obvious from Gato’s expression that he’s not going to like it, whatever it is.

A mirthless laugh assaults his ears. “I’ll let you live to cross paths with me another day.”

As offers go, it’s not very believable. But as much as Shisui hates to admit when his luck’s run out, even he can see the writing on the wall. Today really isn’t his day. Sure, he might trust Gato about as far as he could throw him, but even Gato isn’t stupid enough to shoot him on a main street, in broad daylight. Probably…

Retrieving the golden elephant from his bag, Shisui tosses it carefully down.

Turning the trinket over in his hands, Gato lets out a hum of appreciation. “Very nice. My client will be pleased.” He hands it off to one of his many thugs to box up, then peers back through the branches, looking more like a slug than Shisui would ever have thought possible. Reinforcing the impression, his lips twist with a slimy smile. “Well, as always, it’s been nice doing business with you Shisui. But I think, unfortunately, you’ve caused me trouble for the last time.”

Far too pleased for Shisui’s taste, Gato steps back, raising his hand in a gesture that looks awfully like it’s intended as a final farewell. Or a smug ‘fuck you.’ Either way, the message is perfectly clear.

Shisui rolls his eyes, mentally scratching off another predictable villainous turn on his treasure hunting bingo card. “All right,” he calls after Gato’s retreating back. “Nice doing business with you too! See you next time...” Under his breath he mutters, “Asshole…”

Truly, Gato doesn't have an original bone in his body. It's like he once read The Idiots Guide to Being a B-Grade Movie Villain, then internalised it on the spot to make up for a lack of anything remotely resembling a personality. But, pathetic imitation of a villain or not, his bullets are still effective.

The leaves around him shred beneath the pop, pop of gunfire as Shisui sucks in a rushed breath, bracing himself for what he’s about to do. The branch wobbles precariously beneath his feet as he races along it, pushing off into air that rushes past, disconcerting and empty. The slender gap to the building seems to widen to the span of a gaping abyss—

He hits the rail of the apartment with thud, clambering quickly over it to fall on his back on the balcony, winded, but mercifully unharmed. A macaque peers over the guttering at him, with a leering grin that clearly threatens more screaming.

“Don’t you start,” he warns, waggling a finger at it.

But there’s barely a moment to catch his breath before the sound of splintering wood below indicates another problem. Or an extension of the same one. Bounding to his feet, Shisui scoops up his hat, settles it back on his head, and checks over the railing. A bullet clips the plaster nearby—a pretty good indication that Gato’s men have every idea where he’s gone. That, combined with the way they’re currently pushing through the lower doors to the complex probably doesn’t mean anything good for him.

“Shit,” he announces to no one in particular. It’s times like these he really wishes he carried a gun…

Forcing his way into the mercifully empty apartment off the balcony, Shisui slips quickly through it. Cracking open the door on the far side, he checks the coast is clear. It is.

Of course, it doesn’t stay that way for long. Halfway along the open air corridor, there’s a cry of discovery from his pursuers, followed by more shooting. Seriously, why are the bad guys always bringing guns to Shisui’s knife fights?

Ducking, he runs faster, bursting into another apartment filled with hazy cigarette smoke and shocked faces before finally making it to an exterior stairwell on the far side. Looking at the next building over, it’s immediately apparent the gap is way too far for him to use the same trick he did before. But with Gato’s men advancing on him from below, maybe he can just make it to street level and bypass them altogether…

A thicket of power cables criss-crosses the span between the buildings, with one nearby running almost to the level of the shop awnings below. Sending a rash of silent prayers to whatever gods take care of Indian power line maintenance, Shisui detaches a length of rope from his belt and flings it over the wire, gripping each side like a makeshift zipline. Holding his breath, he pushes off into empty space. To his surprise and considerable delight, the line holds.

It sweeps him across the street, picking up more and more speed, until the side of the other building is rushing at him like—

Shit.

He impacts it with his shoulder, coming to an uncomfortable and jarring stop. Pain shoots down his arm and he lets go of the rope, crashing through a fabric awning and landing ungracefully in a huge stack of bagged flour. Dust floats down around him and Shisui groans, moving each of his limbs in turn. By some miracle, nothing seems broken. Not even his tantō in its leather holster at his back.

Oh well. Fall down seven times, stand up eight…

Apparently his exit was none too subtle though, because Gato’s men are leaning over the stairwell railing, yelling and pointing at the mess he’s made. Dragging himself to his feet, Shisui evades an angry store owner, brushes flour off of his clothes and resumes running for his life.

Never let anyone say archaeology is boring.

As he emerges back onto the main street, searching for quick and easy exit, the sound of screeching brakes and angry honking carries from the road. Cutting a wild path through traffic is an old open-top olive-drab Jeep with several gold charms dangling from its rear-view mirror. It jerks to a stop just before hitting Shisui, both side wheels riding up on the curb.

“Need a ride?” the female driver asks, grinning.

Her windswept hair hangs past the fashionable silk scarf tied at her neck. Unmanicured nails wrap around the slender metal of the steering wheel, like they couldn’t be more at home there. They’re a stark contrast with the cream suit linen she’s wearing, rolled up neatly to her elbows. Speckled with dirt, it looks like she’s probably travelled halfway across the country to be here, and been up to her elbows in the grease of the Jeep’s engine at some point to do it. She’s a walking contradiction—albeit one Shisui is delighted to see.

“Izumi!” he exclaims happily.

Eyes sparkling, she waves. “Hey.”

“I thought you were practicing on the course in Reno this weekend… What’re you doing here?”

A shot rings out, kicking up dust near one of the tyres. Glancing behind him, Izumi rolls her eyes, reaching across to throw open the door. “What am I always doing? Saving your ass, you idiot... Now get in before one of us gets shot, or I have to find out whether my rental insurance covers illegal firefight damage.”

#uchiha shisui #uchiha izumi #future shisuita #new story #my art #really having fun writing this one #I'm such a sucker for adventure movies #and snarky team banter #and this combines both #aaaaand we've just been thrown into another covid lockdown #so more writing time here I come!#Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura

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phasmwrites · 4 years

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carpe diem || bakugou katsuki

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ “Thank you for the greatest summer I’ve ever had...” *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Female!Reader Warnings: Angst; Fluff Word Count: 8,007 A/N: This fic is a part of the bnharem summer collab, all the other amazing works can be found here! Please let me know your thoughts on this piece, I had the idea & I just ran with it honestly, & I put a lot of little messages and secret meanings in this fic heh so I truly hope that you somewhat like it! Also please don’t mind that I used the US school system for summer break ok that is all 😊🥺💕

JUNE 15TH

You always were fond of the changing of seasons, watching the way nature transformed every couple of months. At this time of year, everything outside was nothing short of vibrant as summer was finally beginning to expose itself. The rise in temperature hadn’t been lost on you though; the sun’s harsh rays beamed down harshly while you ate your lunch outdoors.

A warm breeze suddenly swept over you, the book laid on the picnic table rapidly flipping through its pages. As the pages began to settle once more, your eyes shifted towards a butterfly who had gotten caught in the wind. Its orange wings fluttered once, twice, before settling on your journal.

“Hello there mister butterfly.” You hummed in amusement, slowly bringing your finger towards the delicate creature.

It seemed to be unphased by your presence although hesitant as you offered it the chance to perch on your digit. Just as its wings fluttered once more, the sound of plastic meeting the wooden surface had the butterfly rapidly flying away.

“Hey!” You scolded the blonde across from you, “You scared the poor butterfly away!”

“Tch, who gives a shit?” Bakugou rolled his eyes, reaching for his utensils before popping open the lid off of his lunch. It was rare that he would pay you a visit outside, which meant he had ulterior motives to doing so.

The relationship the two of you shared was built on mutual respect, which he was forced to give considering you’re the reason he had a hero costume in the first place. After nearly two years of knowing Bakugou Katsuki, you considered him kind of a friend. You’ve learned a lot about the blonde across from you in the time the two of you have spent as students at Yuuei and he knew more about you than he probably would ever admit.

“So, about my costume…” He spoke between large chews of beef curry, explaining in detail what he’d like to improve upon before they’re let out for summer vacation. You flipped over to a new page of your journal, quickly scribbling down his descriptions that included words such as “murder” and “pain”.

Nearly two whole pages filled to the brim with ideas now took up space in your journal, your fingers beginning to cramp up from trying desperately to keep up with his explanations. You laid the pen down, taking a deep breath, “I doubt I’ll be able to actually finish all of these ideas in the next week, Katsuki.”

In a little over a week, the two of you would officially be finished with your second year. Meaning, around this time next year Bakugou would be finalizing his decisions on his future. Which agency he wants to join, if he wants to attempt to become a pro on his own: all these things would demand answers then.

“Hah? I didn’t even ask for that much.” He grumbled before reaching for your notes. Before you could protest, he snatched the papers from you, but the ink didn’t match his words, “What the hell is this?”

“You flipped to another page idiot, give it back-!” You attempted to take it back from him but to no avail. Bakugou’s eyes quickly scanned down the list you had made, your body growing warm in embarrassment.

Pressing his index finger into the title of the page you spent way too long learning calligraphy for, Bakugou finally peeked up at you, “What’s a bucket list?”

“Well...it's uh…” His eyes were intense as he waited for your answer, “This one specifically, I made for things I want to do before summer’s over.”

Bakugou took a second glance over the list, “Are you sure all of this is safe for you?”

“Huh? Why?”

“There’s bears in the woods, idiot, and you put that you want to go camping.” He explained, finally returning your journal back to you.

“The bears are way up north, I’m not planning on going that far.” You let out a soft laugh, “Besides, if you join me-”

Immediately, Bakugou shook his head, “Nope, no way in hell.”

“Why not? It’d be nice to have someone to complete my list with, rather than just spend the summer alone.” It was your pleading gaze that caused his rough demeanor to crumble for just a moment, something that seemed to happen more often than not whenever you were around.

Once more, his ash blonde locks moved with the wind as he shook his head, “Don’t you have shitty friends? Besides, I still have hero studies throughout the summer.”

“Not really...no…” Your head bowed down in abashment, realizing just how little you spoke to others that weren’t him or the classmates in the support course, “We can always plan around your schedule, ‘Suki.”

He refused to admit that his cheeks flushed at the sudden nickname, prepared to blame it on the warm weather if it were mentioned, “You’re annoying.”

“Come on! Please help me with this! I’ll finish all your upgrades for you before summer vacation starts…” If he refused once more, you would let it go, find a way to enjoy yourself, albeit alone.

The sigh that passed his lips was unreadable from where you sat, unsure of what his next words would possibly be. You wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to join you, hell he hardly complied with the crazy antics his friend group in class 2-A found themselves up to. So why was your chest pounding so hard, hoping for him to oblige?

“Tch, fine, only if you finish the upgrades, then you have a fucking deal.”

Offering your hand, you met Bakugou’s stare with fire in your eyes, “Shake on it then.”

“Whatever.” His palm was warm as it pressed to yours, fingers curled over as you shook on your deal.

The sound of the bells ringing inside was loud enough to be heard in the courtyard, signalling the end of lunch. As you gathered your things and headed back towards the support workshop, you already began to outline some of his demands from memory alone.

So when next week dragged along, you could witness the expression on Bakugou’s face at his fully upgraded costume.

JULY 2ND

“I cannot believe you actually managed to finish every single fucking thing I asked you to upgrade.” Bakugou scoffed, fingers curled tightly around the metal pole of the bus. You grinned cheekily opposite of him, leg bouncing with excitement as you got closer to your destination.

As promised, Bakugou sauntered into your workshop on the last day of classes only to see his costume upgraded with everything he demanded. He wanted to be annoyed, irritated that he would have to spend his summer helping you complete some “shitty little list”, but he was too entranced at the new design to even care.

So now here the two of you were, on a bus heading towards the beach to complete the very first thing on your summer bucket list. Though, Bakugou managed to bring a couple other people along with him for the trip.

“Maybe when we get back to school you can help me with my costume too!” Kaminari gushed at your side, whipping out his phone to begin swiping through his ideas.

When Bakugou arrived at the bus stop with his small group of friends that morning, he explained how he accidentally brought it up to them and they practically begged him to join. You were nothing short of thrilled at the prospect, heart growing warm at being surrounded by so many people.

“Fuck off, Dunce Face! She’s my costume designer, not yours!” Bakugou snapped, catching the attention of the few passengers on the bus who weren’t part of your small group.

When you curled further into your seat to avoid the glares of the elderly, Mina’s shoulder bumped into yours, “So is that how you know Bakugou, Y/N? We were wondering how he managed to befriend someone on his own!”

“I hate each and every one of you.” The ash-blonde declared, putting in his earbuds harshly to drown out those in his vicinity.

That was how the rest of the ride to the beach went, with Bakugou feigning ignorance towards his rambunctious group of friends and those friends bombarding you with questions. For the most part, they asked about the support course and your quirk, a bit taken back when you admit that you’re quirkless.

Just as the bus settled into a comfortable silence, Kaminari shattered through it by shouting with joy at the sight of the ocean now in your view. You couldn’t mask your amusement, laughing at the electric blonde and the way he was visibly buzzing waiting for the bus to stop and the doors to open.

“Oi, give me the umbrella.” Your attention was suddenly snapped towards Bakugou who glared down at you from a foot away, holding out an impatient hand for the large umbrella at your side.

Along with the vibrant colored parasol, he snatched your backpack and slung it over his shoulder before exiting the bus. You shuffled along, the rest of your group following suit and immediately heading towards the water.

Immediately the salty aroma of the ocean flooded your nostrils, ever so present even from a short distance. Seagulls roamed among the beach, some trotting along the ground and others soaring low in the clear sky.

You loved the feeling of walking along the soft sand, allowing your shoes to dangle off your finger as you trailed a brooding Bakugou. Rather than announce that he found an ideal location to set everything up, he halted everyone in their tracks by slamming the stake of the umbrella into the ground.

“Here.” Was all he grunted before you and the others went along with it, lying down blankets and towels along the warm sand.

It didn’t take much time at all for everyone to begin racing towards the ocean, clothes haphazardly discarded by their respective bags. Kirishima and Kaminari were the firsts to race over, Sero and Mina laughing as they watched the two practically stumble and fall into the cool water.

“You coming or what, slowpoke?” Bakugou glared in your direction, waiting for you to scramble onto your feet.

You quickly shot up, listening to him complain about his embarrassing friends as the two of you reached the edge of the water. The waves barely ghosted over the bottom of your calves as you began slowly stepping forwards. Meanwhile, Bakugou forced his way through the oncoming waves as if it were nothing, walking over to the others who stood waist deep in the ocean.

“Sero please help me with my boogie board moves!” Kaminari begged, “I just need you to use your quirk!”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Sero snickered, everyone watching the way Kaminari struggled to balance his upper body on the rather small piece of foam.

You finally reached the group, feeling goosebumps coat your skin as you waited to grow accustomed to the cool temperature. Mina wadded over to you, her entire body up to her neck underneath the water as she crouched, “You have to watch this, Kami’s going to fall so hard.”

“I can hear you Mina!” The blonde in question cried, “I’m gonna prove all of you wrong!”

“You’ll probably kill us by short-circuiting first, idiot.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, but nonetheless returned the ball that him and Kirishima were passing between one another.

Frustrated, Kaminari ignored his friend’s doubts and began swimming a bit further into the water, boogie board in tow. He managed to get his knees pressed upon the foam board, eagerly awaiting the next large wave to wash through.

“Sero! Now!” He shouted and you watched as the water grew in stature, dragging Kaminari and his flimsy board along with it. It was then Sero released a long stripe of tape as Kaminari propped himself feet flat on the foam. The tape curled around his ankles, securing him to the board as he rode the wave.

Well, that was before his own poor balance caused him to falter off, unceremoniously crashing into the water. As the wave drew closer, laughter shifted into gasps in surprise. You stared wide-eyed at the oncoming wave, feet dug into the sand below you as you froze in fear.

Just as the water began to crash over you, strong arms suddenly curled around your figure to keep you from being swept up in the ocean’s flow. It was only for a few moments that your head was underwater before it passed, your eyes fluttering open.

“Bakugou?” You peered up at the warm body clutching you to theirs, only to be met with widened red eyes. The two of you stared at one another for a few lingering seconds, his damp blonde locks trailing droplets down his complexion.

All at once he released his hold on you, eyebrows now furrowed, “Dumbass, why didn’t you fucking move?!”

“I panicked,” Admitting sheepishly, you scratched at the back of your neck, “Thank you.”

“Tch, it’s nothing.” He refused to meet your gaze, but you could almost detect a hint of pink scattered across his cheeks.

The others who had been carried by the wave eventually made their way back to you and Bakugou, Kaminari desperately searching for the boogie board in the process. Kirishima and Sero relentlessly teased him for his failed attempt to ride the wave, scolding him for using such a cheap board for balance.

As the sun continued to move along its axis, everyone was enjoying themselves in the water. You even managed to play a few silly games with the volleyball Kirishima managed to not lose in the waves, Bakugou reluctantly joining in on the activities.

When inevitably distracted, either a wave of water would be splashed in one’s direction or their head would be dunked. It was overall some of the most fun you had in a long time, outside of the thrill you felt when building new designs in the workshop.

“Are you okay?” Mina glanced over at you, your body beginning to grow warm despite the cool of the ocean water. You were desperately trying to ignore the exhaustion building up, wanting to spend as much time as possible with your new group of friends.

When you could hardly mutter out a syllable, Mina shouted for the boys to come over, “I think the sun’s getting to her, could one of you bring her back to shore?”

Kirishima began to offer, but was swiftly halted when Bakugou reached over and curled his fingers around your wrist, aiding you out of the ocean and its harsh pull. You trailed along, just able to keep up with him until you reached the myriad of blankets that were set up earlier.

A dull thud could be heard when you collapsed onto the blankets, but you were surprised to feel another presence sit down at your side. The look you shot in his direction had Bakugou immediately on the defensive.

“What?! You’re the dumbass who stayed in the sun too long.” He snapped, yanking a bottle of water, still cold, from his bag, “I’m making sure you don’t die, drink.”

You shuffled into a sitting position, chugging the refreshing liquid as if you hadn’t had any in days. Both of your eyes wandered towards the group who continued to play underneath the sun’s harsh rays, splashing and laughing animatedly.

“I just needed a moment-” You protested, but an arm shot out in front of you as you went to stand up, “I’m fine, seriously.”

“Give those idiots ten more minutes, they’ll be crying over how hungry they are.” Bakugou leaned back until he met the blanket, tossing one of his arms lazily over his eyes.

Crossing your legs in front of you in acceptance, you reached for your journal in your bag and began flipping through the pages. Thankfully your hands had dried, keeping your sacred notebook free of damage.

“So you never told me what you thought about the upgrades.” You mumble, catching his attention.

As you dragged a line across ‘Beach Trip’ from your bucket list, Bakugou spoke up, “I was impressed, to be honest. You finished them all really fucking quick.”

“Well I wanted to prove that I could,” You held your head up in triumph, “All the late nights at the workshop were worth it to see the great Bakugou Katsuki speechless.”

“Hah? Late nights? Do you take any care of yourself?” He sat back up, swiping your book from you in a similar fashion to that one afternoon at lunch. You didn’t even get the chance to wrestle it from his grasp before he began scribbling something on your bucket list.

Once he finished, he slapped the journal into your lap and watched you with narrowed eyes, “I’m making your shitty little list better.”

Scrawled along the bottom of your list stated the following: Take care of yourself!!!

“Aw, you actually care about me, Suki?” You taunted, giggling at the way his palms began to crackle in frustration.

Both you and him were taken by surprise at the admission that fell from your lips, “Thank you for helping me complete my list, I’m already having so much fun with you.”

Bakugou stared at you with eyes wide as saucers; he never met someone who could cause his jaw to slack with no harsh words slipping out. He never got the chance to respond anyways, as if right on cue the others tumbled over to the towels groaning about grabbing a bite to eat.

The rest of the afternoon was spent along the sand, from Sero burying Kaminari into the ground to watching Bakugou and Kirishima spar one another with light use of their quirks. Mina spent a majority of the time by your side, seemingly convinced that something more than a friendship was blooming between you and the hot-headed blonde. As much as you denied her accusations, your heart always palpitated a little harder when he’d glance back to check on you.

Given how well the day went, you were more than thrilled at crossing off more bullet points in your journal.

JULY 22ND

Nature continued to amaze you, from the roaring waves of the ocean to the whistling branches of the forest, all of it was simply mesmerizing. It may have also been the reason you found yourself constantly distracted along the hiking trail.

“If you keep stopping to admire the fucking leaves and bugs it’s going to get dark before we even make it, dumbass!” Bakugou shouted from a few yards in front of you, using the back of his hand to wipe at the perspiration accumulating on his forehead.

The dense forests did nothing to alleviate the growing humidity, which seemed to only increase your hiking partner’s ever present irritation. You glanced over at his scowling complexion, skipping along ahead of him on the path.

Hero duties had increased tenfold after the trip to the beach, leaving you to spend some of the summer working on your own personal inventions and projects. You managed to complete a few things on your list on your lonesome, such as ordering the special 10-scoop ice cream bowl from your favorite dessert shop. The stomach ache that followed suit was totally worth it.

When you asked Bakugou if him and his friends would want to accompany you on a hiking and camping escapade, you were startled to receive a response so fast saying he’d let you know when he had a free weekend. Apparently, the rest of his infamous group would be missing in action, but you didn’t really mind having just Bakugou around.

“Is the stuff getting too heavy? I can carry something you know, I’m not weak!” You argued, staring at the multitude of bags laid over his back. Stubborn as ever, Bakugou eventually sped up his pace to get ahead of you again, the rattling of the equipment a reminder of the added weight.

He shook his head, readjusting his grip on the shoulder strap, “Don’t underestimate me, focus on not tripping and dying.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Raising your hand, you pressed the edge of it to your head in a saluting motion, laughing to yourself at the audible groan that Bakugou let out in response.

The trek up the mountain wasn’t nearly as bad as you feared, only a few steep portions had you clinging to the rocks for dear life, but you managed. Much to Bakugou’s disdain, you continued to slow your pace at times to admire the nature that surrounded the two of you all the way up to the campsite.

Though, you were able to rub it in his face that the two of you made it well before the sun began to set, its bright rays seeping down through the forest of greenery. The campsite was quaint, the ground flattened enough from decades of other travelers setting up their tents. A small circle of stones was located not too far from where you wound up pitching the tent, old ash from the previous fires still lying in between it.

When Bakugou began to drop logs into the makeshift campfire, you gasped at the green figure that landed on his shoulder, “Don’t move!”

“Hah?” Despite being completely puzzled, he managed to listen to you long enough for you to get a glimpse at the beautiful green butterfly that settled upon him, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“A butterfly landed on you!” You exclaimed, fascinated by its vibrant lime pattern.

Only a few more moments passed before he gently shrugged his shoulder, the butterfly quickly taking off as you watched it abscond into the trees, “Damn bugs.”

He placed the last log into the campfire as you headed to the tent to set up the interior. As you zipped open the bag containing what was supposed to be two rolled up sleeping bags, only one was located inside.

“Can you hurry up?” Bakugou suddenly called into the tent, causing you to release a small squeak in surprise.

Whipping around to face him, you met his glaring gaze, “Why?”

“There’s some cool shit on this mountain, not my problem if you don’t want to see it.” With that, he whipped the flaps of the tent to a swift close before stomping away.

You managed to tumble your way out, catching your foot on the edge of the flimsy material, but nonetheless managed to finish your exit without crashing into the dirt. Bakugou rolled his eyes at your clumsy behavior, already starting to walk off in the opposite direction.

“Wait for me!” Your voice chimed, jogging over to catch up.

The sun was about to start its descent any moment now, casting new shadows along the rocks and trees while you followed Bakugou like a lost puppy. Eventually, you allowed yourself to speak your curiosity, “How did you find this secret place anyways?”

“Found it once when I was hiking, I told you I’ve been here before.” He responded curtly, swiping at a few branches for the two of you to pass through.

The sound of rushing water immediately flooded your ears, drawing your interest the louder it got. You used the noise to guide you as you pushed past the blonde, eventually coming upon the edge of a decent sized body of water.

When you lifted your head up, you were met with the most magnificent waterfall you had ever seen in your life. The water cascaded from its crest, allowing it to free fall down into the shallow plunge, eventually rolling down the river. Greenery surrounded and plastered the stones that made up the gorge.

Bakugou was ready to scold you for shoving him only seconds before, but immediately froze when he watched the way your eyes beamed in glee at the nature-made falls. It was as if gemstones had collected themselves within your irises; the way they sparkled at the sight left him speechless, again.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper before slipping off your sneakers, placing them off to the side as you dipped your feet into the slow moving currents, “It’s like, I feel at peace here.”

He understood what you meant perfectly, but pride refused to let him admit it, “Yeah.”

Leaning down, you began to gather the small stones that cluttered the bottom of the shallow river, poorly attempting to skip them along the water’s surface. You tried moving a little deeper into the body of water, flicking your wrist a bit harsher, but nothing seemed to work.

Just as you went to straighten your spine after gathering another collection of rocks, you leaned back directly into someone standing tall behind you, “Bakugou! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Who else could it have possibly been?!” He shouted, reaching down to grab your wrist, “I’m tired of watching you fail at throwing these shitty rocks.”

His warmth radiated onto you as he glided his unexpectedly soft fingertips over the back of your hand, matching your current finger’s positions. You could almost feel every single intake of breath he made, trying desperately to focus on the way he squeezed your digits tighter against the stone.

“When I say to let go, listen.” Bakugou muttered, his words rolling directly onto your ear and causing the hair on the back of your neck to rise. He was having such an effect on you and you were entirely conflicted on whether or not it was necessarily a good thing.

He’s your friend, that’s it. You couldn’t do that anyways; he’s only a friend-

“Let go.”

The grey pebble skipped across the water once, twice - three times before sinking back to the bottom of the river. He proceeded to show you a couple more times how to perfect the technique and when he eventually retracted his body from yours, you resented the cool wind that suddenly surrounded you in his place.

“Come on, it’s going to get dark soon.” Bakugou’s voice pulled you from the roaring falls, slipping his footwear back on as he stepped out of the cold river. You mimicked his actions, making sure to not fall behind as the two of you headed back to the campsite. The beauty of the waterfall and sirene feeling that clutched at your heart would never be forgotten, though.

Dinner was extremely light and spent seated around the now lit campfire. You devoured your sandwich like a person starved for days, ignoring the glances of concern Bakugou seemed to occasionally give from your side. The sun was almost entirely hidden away, exposing the plethora of stars that scattered along the dark night sky.

As beautiful as space was though, you diverted your attention to the paper bag that you had placed carefully at your side. Inside was one of the single most important camping activities one should always complete when temporarily inhabiting the great outdoors.

“Have you ever made a ‘smore, Katsuki?” Holding up the bag of puffy marshmallows and decadent chocolate, you waved it across the air and attempted to gauge Bakugou’s reaction.

When he rolled his eyes, your answer was already given, “No, that shit’s unhealthy.”

“You haven’t lived!” You gasped, “Making these delicious treats is a vital part of the ultimate camping experience-”

“If I eat one will you please spare me from listening to you tell a fucking biography on it?” He didn’t even give you the chance to ramble on about its flavor and texture, taking the bag of marshmallows and stick from you.

The force he used to stake the marshmallow could probably harm an actual person, but you were too excited to watch as he held it just low enough to the flames that it began to coat itself in a light brown shade.

You grabbed a square of chocolate and a set of graham crackers, laying one on both palms in preparation, “When it's toasted enough for your liking, you place it-”

“I know how to make them, stupid.” Bakugou pressed the now partially burnt marshmallow onto the chocolate, “Tch, thanks.” While he slowly ate the classic camping treat, you zealously began to prepare your own.

Eventually, after maybe one too many smores, you glanced over to your side at Bakugou only to find that the melted marshmallow didn’t always make it into his mouth. A few webs of the sugary fluff coated the corner of his lips, but he didn’t seem to notice.

You reacted entirely subconsciously as you leaned over and swiped away at the residue with your thumb, seemingly caressing his now burning cheeks in the process. Bakugou didn’t react how you expected though, there was no screaming, no threats, no use of his quirk. He simply met your eyes and allowed you to wipe at the opposite corner.

His lips were surprisingly soft as your finger ghosted over, but all at once the reality of the situation settled in and you immediately jumped away from him, “S-Sorry! It was just on your face and-”

Bakugou interrupted you for the uptenth time that night, “It’s fine, let’s put out this damn fire.”

The fire quickly died out, removing a majority of the light from the wooded area. You smacked at the flashlight you brought along, allowing it to come to life and guide you back towards the tent.

That’s when you remembered what you discovered only a couple hours ago: there was only one sleeping bag, for two people. Just as you remember that little detail, Bakugou discovered it as he opened the tent to see the single bag laid across the floor.

“Where’s the other sleeping bag?” He asked, rummaging through the variety of bags in hopes of finding it, though you knew it would be to no avail.

Gnawing at your lower lip, you feared the reaction your next words would elicit from the explosive ash-blonde, “I guess I forgot it at home…?”

“You forgot it?” Bakugou repeated, “Really?”

“Sorry…” That bottom lip you once chewed on fell into a pout, one that did nothing but tug on the heartstrings Bakugou actually had.

He released a soft sigh, “Oi, don’t fucking cry, you get the sleeping bag I’ll figure something out.”

“No, you get the sleeping bag! It’s my fault anyways that there’s only one!”

This went on for a multitude of minutes, both of you going back and forth on who should spend the night wrapped up in the cheap fabric of the makeshift cocoon. It was going nowhere, neither one of you wanted to back down.

“Let’s just share the damn sleeping bag!” You finally shouted, finger pointed at it, “We’re not children, I don’t have cooties, just sleep in the fucking bag with me!”

Bakugou was taken aback for a moment by your foul language as he had never heard you spew out such words in the near two years he’s known you. In a strange way, it almost made him proud.

“Fine!” He yelled in response, unsure of what else to truly say.

That’s how you wound up with your leg pressed into Bakugou’s, two sets of eyes burning holes into the center of the tent. The top part of the sleeping bag laid over both of your figures, your arms laid over your stomach as to make more room for the muscular hero-in-training at your side. Crickets and owls could be heard chirping from a distance, a nice break to the deafening silence that filled the small tent.

Until you finally broke the quiet, “Are you ready for your last year at Yuuei?”

“Hah?” He turned his head to look at you, forgetting just how close in proximity you were, “I don’t see why not.”

“What are your plans when you graduate?”

“The fuck is this, twenty questions?” Bakugou huffed.

You craned your neck over as well, only to feel his nose just barely brush against your own, “Just curious, is all.”

“I don’t know what my plans are, all I know is that I will become the number one hero one day and surpass All Might.” His red eyes never faltered from contact, nothing but seriousness behind his every word.

Nodding slowly, you couldn’t mask the small smile that grazed your lips, “Why do you want to be a hero, or I guess what drives you to do it?”

“I want to win, you need to win to save.”

Bakugou was fully prepared for you to chastise his reasonings, well used to being told that saving is most important, but your next few words set an inferno in his heart, “You’re going to be an amazing hero one day, Katsuki. I can’t wait for the world to see.”

“Y-You know,” He hardly ever stammered over his speech, “If you turn your body on your side, there’ll be more room in this shitty bag.”

“You’re right.” You whisper, shifting so that your entire body was now lying in his direction.

Following your actions, the two of you stared at one another, but for once it was comfortable - the silence.

“Goodnight, ‘Suki. Thank you for an amazing day, and another thing to cross off my list.” An unwarranted yawn fell from your mouth, your eyelids growing heavier by the second until you eventually allowed them to close.

That night, Bakugou discovered a part of him that he hadn’t even known existed, let alone would have ever made room for before, “Yeah, goodnight.”

You could have sworn the weight of his arm draped over your side, but you had already been too far into the land of dreams to fully notice.

AUGUST 18TH

When the end of summer drew closer, the influx of carnivals and fairs seemed to pop up out of seemingly nowhere. Though it wasn’t entirely out of thin air, given attending one was one of the few things left the list.

Your partner in crime, or rather in summer-bucket-list-completing, continued to aid you through your list when he managed to find the time. A part of you almost felt guilty for the way Bakugou was spreading his time so thinly between Yuuei and your silly activities.

Nonetheless, you got to see the many faces of Bakugou Katsuki over the past few weeks, more so than you had witnessed in the many months you had already been acquaintances. He had become one of your closest friends, and on the other hand he found himself enjoying your presence more and more.

These feelings accumulating frightened the both of you, but for oh so different reasons.

“Why do you keep attracting these damn butterflies wherever you go?” Bakugou watched as one suddenly flew past the two of you on your way to the carnival.

This one was jet black, masking any of the colors that desperately tried to flourish beneath its dark wings. You watched as it fluttered away just as fast as it appeared, flying high enough to contrast with the beautiful sunset that surrounded you and him.

Obnoxious carnival music could eventually be heard as you reached the opening arch way, immediately overwhelmed by the wide variety of colors that glowed from the different amusement rides. What truly stole your interest first was the different fair games and their assortment of large prizes.

“Oi.” Bakugou called out to you as you began weaving through the heavy crowd of people. He could hardly spot you among the sea of fair-goers, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “Y/N, slow down!”

A hand quickly reached for your wrist, fingers curling tightly around it as Bakugou had finally picked you out of the crowd. For a better grip, he slid the pads of his fingers downwards until he could lace them through yours. He told himself this would only be until the crowd grew sparse, then he would let go.

“What kind of rides do you like, Katsuki?” You asked once the two of you finally slipped out of the huge group of people, though his palm remained flat against yours.

His eyes roamed the small fair, quickly checking out the light variety, “Tch, anything’s fine.”

Bakugou didn’t realize just how literally you would take his words, as you proceeded to drag him towards all sorts of different rides. From the child-like rollercoaster, to the rapid twister, to bumper cars, you nearly went on every single ride that wasn’t designated towards children specifically.

The whole while, Bakugou’s hand would casually slip into yours at the end of each and every ride, only releasing his grip when you would approach the next. It felt so easy, so simple - neither of you wanted it to stop.

There were only a few rides left to complete, one of them being the large ferris wheel that centered the entire fair. The line had grown rather long, but despite Bakugou’s complaints he stood waiting right by your side. That is, until your stomach growled so audibly even a few people nearby attempted to locate the source of the odd noise.

“When did you last eat?!” Bakugou hissed, his fingers clenching around yours while shooting daggers in your direction.

Shrugging, you were unsure of when you had eaten before getting on the train to meet up with him, “Ah I don’t know, we can-”

“What do you want?” He asked, “You’re not about to pass out on this goddamn ride.”

“Can you get me a pretzel, then?” With a nod, Bakugou let go of your hand and wandered off towards the abundance of food stalls.

As he searched for the source of what you craved, you briefly overheard the couple next to you in line, “See, her boyfriend offers to get her food, why can’t you ever do that for me?”

Boyfriend. The word rang through your head like a thousand different alarms. Sure, Bakugou was a boy, and he had managed to become your friend, but putting the two words together insinuated an entirely different concept.

It wasn’t like you weren’t attracted to him, or that you didn’t jump in circles in your room after Bakugou obliged to joining you for the summer. He had managed to fully capture your heart in a single summer, but it didn’t bring you the joy most people would feel.

As long as he doesn’t return the feelings, all will be okay.

“Earth to Y/N!” A voice pulled you out of your mind, bringing you back to the present where Bakugou was holding a pretzel between his fingers, “I took a bite, it’s my fee.”

The laugh that you let out forced Bakugou to restrain his lips from lifting, simply handing you the salty snack before returning to your side. He glanced down at your vacant palm and cursed himself for how things seemed to wind up.

When Bakugou accepted your deal to carry out your summer list, he initially did it to receive his upgrades before the school year came to an end. Aiding you in these silly activities meant nothing, until just as quickly they meant everything to him. You enjoyed being around him, never afraid to tease and taunt him, and most of all you believed and respected his reasoning to become a hero.

He tried so hard to shove away the feelings he inevitably caught for you; a part of him believed it was because he knew what so few people did about you-

“Next!” The ferris wheel operator shouted and both you and Bakugou were in fact in the front already.

You tossed the napkin that once held your pretzel in the waste bin before being escorted to the double person seat. Locked into place, your hand quickly seeked out Bakugou’s almost on its own accord.

The ride began to move, stopping every few feet to allow new passengers onto the attraction. Before either of you fully realized, you had reached the peak of the wheel.

“Oh, wow.” You gasped in complete wonder, admiring the view of the world from such a high point.

Bakugou wanted to see what you were so awestruck about but his eyes refused to tear away from your complexion. Even when you met his gaze, he tossed his pride to the wind and leaned across the seat, his face only centimeters away from your own.

“Katsuki…” Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, almost shaking as his nose practically nudged you to move. Seconds before the ride would begin to turn once more, his lips pressed themselves against yours.

In all of his years, Bakugou was never one known to do things in a gentle manner. He was arrogant, explosive, and prideful. Yet when he kissed you so briefly before the ride started to move, it had been the softest you ever witnessed him.

But, it wasn’t that easy, for you at least.

“Where the fuck are you going?!” You could feel the tears pooling your lower lash line, threatening to escape as you bolted from the ride the second they lifted the restraints.

Bakugou chased after you, heart sinking into his stomach the longer you ran away from him. He couldn’t, he refused to accept what had been the truth from the very start.

“Stop running!” He eventually managed to catch up to you, locking his fingers around your arm as he twirled you around to face him, “You don’t have to run…”

The two of you stood on the outskirts of the fair grounds, the street light flickering on and off while the both of you attempted to catch your breath.

“I don’t feel the same way!” You cried, trying so hard to believe the absolute lie that spewed past your lips.

He didn’t believe you either, “Don’t fucking lie to me, don’t tell me you haven’t felt anything throughout these past few months.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Your voice grew louder.

“Why not?!”

The dam had officially shattered, “You know damn well why! I’m sick, Katsuki, did you forget that? Why do you think I made this silly list in the first place...because this very well may be my last summer, ever.”

“You don’t know that.” He gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides as he refused to accept the truth that he had been avoiding the moment he realized he had any ounce of feelings for you.

While the tears trailed down your complexion, you bowed your head down, “It’s why they call it a bucket list, it's a list of things you want to do before you kick it yourself.”

“I’m not getting any better…” You admit sheepishly, continuing, “I can’t drag you into my mess when- when I don’t even know how long I have left.”

“You dragged me into your so-called mess the second you asked me to help you complete your shitty list.” Bakugou’s words may have been harsh, but the way your body collided into his when he pulled you into his chest - it felt like home.

You sobbed into his shirt for what felt like hours; what had been his palm originally awkwardly pressed to your back had now begun to glide up and down in a soothing motion.

“Oi, look at me.” He used his other hand to grab your chin, forcing your bloodshot eyes to meet his, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing when it comes to this shit, all I know is that when I look at you, the feeling I get? I never want it to stop.”

It was your turn this time to initiate the kiss, leaning up and allowing your lips to slant over his. Bakugou made you feel invincible, and you never wanted that to stop.

“Let me be the hero I’m supposed to be.” Bakugou muttered against your mouth before pulling back briefly, “You don’t have to fucking go through it alone.”

“Okay.”

AUGUST 30TH

Bakugou was never one for sentiments, but looking back on the summer that had passed he felt nothing but warmth flood through his entire body. Especially given the past couple of weeks that consisted of finishing off the last few bullet points on your list: from roller skating to dinner and a movie, every last one was crossed for completion.

He never thought he’d see himself content, smiling at just simply the presence of another person, but every moment with you was a moment he never wanted to forget. Bakugou would become the number one hero and he wanted to do it while you watched.

You had told him about your most recent trip to the doctor’s, which was roughly one week before classes began at Yuuei. When he asked about your results, you waved him off and explained how you had to wait a few days before they would come in.

“Bakugou! Hey!” A familiar cheery voice shouted for his attention as he walked through the halls of his high school, officially a third and final year.

When he spun around, he was met with Kirishima’s infectious grin, “Hey Shitty Hair.”

The two conversed about their summers outside of hero training, Kirishima reflecting back on the beach trip the lot of them had taken with you. He even asked how you were doing, but that’s when Bakugou realized you hadn’t texted him all morning; complete and utter radio silence.

“I’ll meet you in class, I have to go do something.” He didn’t even wait for a response, darting down the hallway through the cluster of students. Your workshop, you had to be in there.

Every corner he turned his heart palpitated harder and harder, why didn’t you contact him this morning? What happened? Maybe your phone died? Got too held up in your workshop?

Every worst possibility Bakugou could possibly think of came to fruition when he slammed open the metal door to your space, only to find it as vacant as you had left it all summer long.

“Oh, Bakugou-” The third-year support hero suddenly walked over to the panicked ash-blonde, “I’m guessing you haven’t heard…”

It didn’t matter that he was going to miss homeroom, there would always be another class, but there would never be another you. His legs dragged him to the hospital, the one you were apparently in emergency surgery for, trying so hard to keep the unfamiliar emotions at bay.

He slammed his body into the glass doors, forcing them to part as he breathlessly asked the nearest receptionist for your room. The hesitation in her tone as she gave him the wing of the hospital was entirely lost on him, a small detail he’d come to think about at a later date.

Everything appeared like a blur as he ran to the opposite side of the hospital, and it was only then that Bakugou realized he was crying.

“I-I’m looking for a young patient, she was - fuck! - admitted to emergency surgery-” Never in his life had he stumbled over his words so carelessly, speaking to the first employee he could find.

“Are you Bakugou?” A small voice caught his attention, causing him to whip around only to be met with the saddened eyes of a young nurse.

He nodded, watching as she offered him an envelope, sealed with one of the many stickers he had seen before scattered along your journal.

Nothing would ever heal the small hole that pierced through his heart when he opened up that letter, right outside the hallway that led to the mortuary.

Bakugou Katsuki,

I know, you hate me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the results I received from the doctor’s right before classes started up again. How could I do that to you? You had so much hope for me, for us, I didn’t want to destroy it so soon.

I just want to say, thank you for the greatest summer I’ve ever had. If it weren’t for you I would have probably never completed my silly little list, but I did! We did! Every single adventure you and I went on will forever burn brightly in my heart, even long after it's stopped beating.

Please, don’t tear yourself up for this, you had no control over my sickness. You know what you do have control over though? You have the power and control to become the number one hero one day, making sure to win to save, just like you truly want to.

Always remember to seize every moment that comes to you, carpe diem as they say, I don’t know I read it in a book somewhere and thought it would sound cool.

I hope you get everything you want out of being a hero, Katsuki, it may be a bit too soon in the relationship but I think I love you.

Sincerely,

Yours

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #phasm.writings

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

Text

juliaswinterwriting challenge, pt. 2

1. “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” with Mathew Barzal

a/n: finally! my second of two submissions for @wondershawns winter writing challenge. 6.6K. also features Mat’s boyfriend Beau lol.

summary: Mat has been falling for Beau’s cousin Genevieve since the day he met her. the main thing standing in his way? her.

warnings: swearing. alcohol. a smattering of angst. mentions of sex (not explicit). a healthy dose of fluff.

_____

Mat couldn’t have heard his best friend correctly. Convinced of that, he shook his head and tried to snap himself out of his stupor.

“Wait, Beau… what?”

“Yeah, Genevieve’s moving in with me,” Beau repeated casually, slapping a puck into the back of the net. “Finally convinced her. She just broke up with that idiot and she’s gonna go to NYU.”

The guys were on the ice at the practice facility for the first time since arriving back in New York after a long summer. They were conducting an informal skate to get their feet under them again, but most of the time had been spent simply catching up with one another — shooting pucks, yes, but also shooting the breeze. Mat had enjoyed the laidback nature of the on-ice session thus far, but he felt an undeniable jolt of electricity in his every nerve when Beau said that name — the one that elicited a thousand different feelings all at once.

Genevieve.

The girl who shared her cousin Beau’s big blue eyes and endless charm, but had a sassy wit and tender heart all of her own. The girl who was more like his teammate’s sister than a more distant relative. The girl who Mat had fallen for the very first day he met her, when Beau invited him to his family home in Quebec for a visit, now three summers ago. The girl who he’d been hopelessly, helplessly entranced by ever since.

Suddenly, a rubber disc was flying at Mat’s feet, the product of Marty dishing him a pass from the opposite side of the zone, expecting Mat to tap it into the goal as they’d already done a dozen times that afternoon. Instead, Mat let it whiz past him, only giving the puck so much as a glance when it bounced off the half-wall.

“Barzy!” Marty yelled from the far boards with a surprised chuckle, smacking his blade on the ice repeatedly. “Fuckin’ pay attention, kid!”

“You hockey much?” Beau teased, furrowing his brows at his teammate’s blank expression. Beau thought to himself that it looked as though Mat had just seen a ghost. “What’s’a matter with you?”

Mat turned to see Marty, Beau, Ebs, and Anders all looking at him as if he were a creature from a different planet. He cleared his throat and hunched once more overtop his skates, gliding in a tight circle before he faced them again.

“Nothin’,” he said nonchalantly, with a sniff. He put his stick to the ice and readied himself, trying to push Beau’s revelation to the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand. “Let’s go again.”

“Wait,” Marty said, putting a gloved hand up to halt the skating men around him. “I forgot. Isn’t Barzy, like, in love with that girl?”

Beau slowly turned his head toward Mat, who swallowed hard, trying to will his cheeks not to redden. Anders and Ebs chuckled, hands resting atop the knobs of their sticks.

“Shut up, Marty,” Mat nearly pleaded, anxiously tapping his stick on the ice. “Just... let’s go again. Come on.”

_____

In the three years since they’d first met, the math broke down pretty simply: Genevieve had had a boyfriend for all of those three years, until a month ago; Mat had kissed her exactly once on the forehead after putting her drunk ass to bed during a weekend visit to Beau’s; and they had made exactly zero progress toward becoming what Mat had always wanted them to be. Together.

One more number was soon added to the equation, not long after she moved to the city — the number one. Sponsored by the number of times they’d now had sex.

Genevieve’s twenty-first birthday fell right after she started at NYU as a junior transfer, when the Isles boys had just started camp. After a night at the club celebrating her, in a vodka-induced haze, with Tito’s attention wrapped up in a pretty blonde, Mat and Genevieve snuck away from the group, into an Uber, and off to his apartment in Brooklyn.

Mat realized immediately that he’d never felt a high like the one he did when she was kissing him, and he chased it all night long. He lost himself in her in every way as they melded together between his sheets.

He truly thought that her birthday was going to be the start of something between them. Something real. More than just a childish crush, stolen glances, and timid, blushing stares.

Which is why his heart broke when he awoke the next morning, after their passionate night gave way to dawn and the effects of the alcohol had faded, to hear Genevieve speaking quietly on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I went home with someone... No, you don’t know him. Just a guy from class.”

Mat felt a tightness in his throat and tried to swallow it.

“Shut up, Anth,” Genevieve said with a lighthearted groan.

Shit. Of course it was Beau.

“Brunch? Uh... yeah. Yeah, I can do brunch. I just have to come back to your place and change first... No, no, I’ll just grab an Uber. Yes, I’m sure.”

She was leaving. She was trying to sneak out of his place, while he was presumably still asleep. Despite that, pathetic as he felt for it, he didn’t want her to go. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Okay, see you then. Bye.” Genevieve ran a hand through her dark locks and blew out a long breath.

“Who was that?” Mat muttered in a sleepy voice, making Genevieve jump. Despite trying to ignore it, he couldn’t help but notice the way she pulled his sheets tighter around her naked body at the realization that he was, indeed, awake. His chest clenched at the sight. Genevieve cleared her throat, stalling, before answering.

“That was Anth,” she said, tossing her phone on the bed in front of her. Mat watched the way her bare spine hunched as she sighed and then looked at him over her freckled shoulder. It took everything in Mat not to lean over and pepper her soft skin with warm kisses.

“He wants to go to brunch. The three of us. He’s gonna text you and invite you. He doesn’t know I’m here...” she spoke, wringing her fingers.

“Okay,” Mat said quietly, sitting up on an elbow. “Well, I’ll drive you back to his place—“

“No, no. I’m just gonna order an Uber,” she said hastily, followed by another long sigh. He wrinkled his brow, confused.

“We can’t tell him, Mat,” Genevieve said sadly, tossing him a forlorn glance, her fingers pressing into her temple. “We just... I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart broke a bit right then. In his mind, they would admit the truth about last night to Beau this morning, he would chirp them about it endlessly but be happy that they were happy, and they would all live happily ever after.

Evidently, Genevieve had different plans.

“So I’m gonna go, and then you can meet us at the cafe. Okay?” she asked, turning to face him straight on, seemingly so that he saw as little of her nude form as possible, despite having seen all of it last night.

Mat nodded, swallowing again. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about the Uber. He was referencing something much more consequential than her ride home.

Genevieve pressed her lips together, looking down at her lap before meeting his eyes again. She nodded slowly.

“I just... I don’t think this is a good idea, Maty. I just got out of a relationship, and I don’t know how Anth would feel about...” She gestured between the two of them. Mat tried not to flinch, though he nearly did just that.

He nodded. Genevieve noted the pain in his eyes and averted her own to avoid being crushed by the knowledge that she had singlehandedly inflicted it upon him. Eventually, he found his voice again.

“Okay. Fine. I understand, I guess. I think you know how I feel about you, especially now, but it’s... it’s whatever you wanna do, G,” Mat said.

Genevieve blinked at him a few times, and for a fleeting moment as she opened her mouth, he thought she might change her mind.

His hopes crashed down in front of him as she shifted uncomfortably under the covers and requested, “Can you maybe just... look away while I get dressed?”

That time, Mat flinched.

_____

Mat couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw who was calling as he made his way home from the rink after practice on a snowy Monday nearly three months later, in early December. He pressed the green button on his dash display, said hello, and her fluttering voice filled his car.

“Mat… hi! Are you busy?”

Even if he were, Mat would’ve lied.

“No, no, not at all. What’s going on, G? How are you?” he asked as he switched lanes, fingers suddenly drumming on the steering wheel as nervous energy coursed through him.

Since the morning after they’d hooked up, the most they had communicated directly was texting half a dozen or so times, with Genevieve congratulating Mat on a good game or Mat asking if she knew where Beau was. Occasionally they’d bump into each other after a game, the ones she could actually make it to given her insane class schedule, or at the bar, and they’d both hug awkwardly and inevitably blush like schoolchildren. Mat missed her like hell, and he gently reminded her of that each time they touched base, but he respected her decision, even if he wasn’t fully convinced it was the right one.

Little did he know, Genevieve wasn’t fully convinced, either, but she willed herself to stand her ground, despite the sway he still held over her, without him even realizing it.

“I’m good. I’m good. Listen, um, I know this probably seems out of the blue, but… would you wanna meet up for coffee?” he heard her ask.

Mat’s brows shot up at her inquiry. He had long ago written off any chance at spending alone time with her and was caught off guard by her invitation.

“Sure,” Mat answered, though somewhat hesitantly. “I’d love to, you know that.”

She must have heard the surprise in his voice because she followed up with, “It’s just, I really miss you… and besides, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Mat couldn’t keep the smug expression from his face. “Oh yeah? Other than just how much you miss me?” he asked arrogantly. He could practically hear Genevieve roll her eyes as she huffed into the phone.

“Just shut up and come here, you egomaniac,” she giggled. “I’m at my usual spot.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen. See you then. And, G?”

“Uh huh?”

A smile twitched at Mat’s lips as he replied.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words.

He heard the smile in her voice when she remarked, “I’m glad you answered. See you soon.”

_____

When Mat walked into the coffee shop minutes later, Genevieve was holed up at a corner table, notebooks and loose papers alike strung before her in a mass of organized chaos. She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip and squinted at her laptop screen through her thick, tortoise-shell framed glasses.

Mat had never seen her wearing glasses before. Though he didn’t even think such a feat was possible, he fell a little more in love with her and became a little more tortured by her right then and there.

He approached her slowly so as not to startle her. As he came nearer, she didn’t even look up, deep in concentration as she typed. When she finally glanced away from her screen and toward a notebook across the table from her, Mat playfully crouched into her line of vision, tilting his chin upward as he waited for her to spot him.

Eventually, her eyes met his and immediately glimmered. She flushed slightly, putting her hand to her forehead with a groan.

“Oh, god, Maty, how long have you been standing there?” Genevieve asked, an apology in her tone.

Mat smiled and tried not to dwell on the way his pulse quickened when his nickname fell from her lips. “Long enough to observe that you might need your glasses prescription changed. You’re not supposed to squint at your screen like that, G,” he warned, approaching her and scanning the multitude of documents before her. “What is all this?” he asked, letting his gaze drift back to hers.

“It’s for my event this weekend. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Genevieve responded tentatively. “But first, coffee,” she said, reaching for her wallet tucked inside her bookbag.

Mat reached for her hand, pushing it away and shaking his head.

“No, c’mon,” he insisted. “Let me. What can I get you?”

Genevieve looked at their touching fingers as he slowly pulled his away, then she gave him that killer half-grin of hers and breathed a sigh, giving into him since she knew trying to protest was useless.

“How ‘bout a peppermint tea? I think I’m overcaffeinated at this point anyway so I should probably take it easy on the coffee,” she admitted with a chuckle as she tucked some hair behind her ear. Mat nodded.

“Smart girl. Tea coming right up,” he promised with a squeeze of her shoulder. Genevieve thanked him and watched as he sauntered to the counter to stand in line.

His hair was longer, and she thought it made him look even more handsome, if that was even imaginable. He caught her ogling at him as he turned the corner to wait for his order, and she simply pursed her lips into a tight smirk and tried to refocus on her notes. He tried to refocus on anything but her. They both were clumsy in their attempts.

When he returned, he placed a large paper cup before her and she wrapped her hands around it with an appreciative hum.

“You’re the best,” Genevieve praised. He waved her off as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So why have I been summoned here, G?” Mat then asked, teasing in his question.

Genevieve bit at her full bottom lip and Mat tried to force his eyes not to linger there as she snapped her notebook shut and readjusted herself in her chair, clearing her throat.

“Okay, so you know I’m taking this event planning class this semester? It’s part of my major. And our final project is to plan a large-scale event,” she began, and he nodded as he sipped at his coffee, amused by her bubbly mannerisms as she spoke. “Well, so… a friend of mine in class kind of accidentally let slip that I’m Anthony’s cousin, and it turns out that the prof is friends with some Isles execs. She suggested that I plan a gala to benefit the team children’s foundation, and obviously since the professor fed me that idea, I couldn’t really say no. Especially since it’s 50 percent of my final grade, and obviously because it’s for such a great cause.” Mat nodded again, already seeing where this was going, but not exactly minding it.

“So since you guys don’t play this Saturday night, Anth had originally told me that he would go and kinda be the face of the team for me, but he backed out this morning,” Genevieve said, playing absentmindedly with her fingers in her lap. Mat was getting ready to take another swig when she added that last little tidbit, and he narrowed his eyes at her as he lowered his cup.

“What do you mean he backed out? What the hell else does he have to do?” Mat didn’t try to hide his annoyance — Beau had practically begged this poor girl to come and live with him and go to school in New York, and now he was jeopardizing her academic future?

“I don’t know,” Genevieve shrugged. “He said some girl he’s been talking to bought him tickets to the Nets game on Saturday night and he—“

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me...” Mat spat, then noticed the disappointment in her features, and immediately softened. “So, what can I do to help?” he asked, deciding that he would deal with the Beau issue later.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, and drew a deep breath as she summoned the courage to make her request.

“I was wondering if... if you’d go with me?” she eventually mumbled.

Mat was certain he had misheard, just like that day months ago on the ice. He licked his bottom lip quickly and sat back in his chair.

“Say again?” he deadpanned.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me,” Genevieve spoke, clearer and faster this time. “I know I don’t even deserve to ask you a favor like that, and you probably already have plans anyway, and I—“

“G, stop,” Mat interrupted dryly.

“It’s not like you’re my second choice or anything,” Genevieve continued, talking with her hands just like Beau did when he got flustered. “I wanted to ask you — really, I did. Trust me. It’s just… I was afraid Anth would be weird so—“

“G, stop,” Mat laughed, his voice firmer this time as his hand moved to rest on her knee. “I don’t need an explanation. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d be honored.”

Genevieve finally exhaled, throwing her hands over her face in sheer excitement and shaking her head back and forth.

“Ugh, Mathew Barzal, I could kiss you right now!” she exclaimed before she could pay a second thought to her words. She covered her mouth then, eyes bugging behind her glasses. Mat couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he quipped softly as he raised his coffee to his lips once more, smirking pompously at Genevieve as she breathed a laugh.

As she launched into the details of the event — what he should wear, what she would need from him, when he could pick her up — he found himself spacing. No detail she shared much mattered to him — not really. It didn’t affect his decision. No matter what this would cost him, literally or figuratively, he was all in.

All in on the gala, all in on Genevieve. All in.

She was letting him in, however little, and he planned to take full advantage of the opportunity.

Mat insisted on giving Genevieve a ride to Beau’s apartment after they’d finished their drinks, convincing her that she needed to take a break from working and get a change of scenery. Surprisingly, she complied. He realized as she sat in his passenger seat just how much he had missed the way he felt in her presence. The world seemed to be in full color only when Genevieve was by his side.

Sadly, the drive was a short one, and soon Genevieve was hurriedly pulling her bookbag into her lap as Mat pulled over to the curb near the building’s entrance. Preparing for her to jump out of the car without giving him a second look, Mat was surprised when he felt her fingertips grasp his jaw. She placed a lingering kiss to his cheek, closer to his mouth than could be called chaste, and smoothed her thumb across the stubble on his chin.

“I really have to go, even though I don’t want to, but thanks a million, Maty,” Genevieve said, beaming at him as she pulled the straps of her bag onto her shoulders. “I can’t wait for this weekend. Bye.”

With that, she was scampering off, throwing him one last smile before disappearing through the doorway.

With a pursed exhale, Mat rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to talk himself down from the clusterfuck his brain had just launched into at her actions.

_____

The week dragged on for Mat. When Saturday finally arrived, he took far longer than usual to get ready, even FaceTiming his sister for her recommendations on the best tie and shoe combination to match his navy suit.

When Liana furrowed her eyebrows, curious why he cared so much about what he wore to what seemed to her to be a fairly routine team event, Mat knew what was coming and braced for it as she opened her mouth.

“Is this like a date or something—“

“Goodbye, Liana. Thank you,” Mat said curtly, cutting her off and quickly ending the call. Of course, it rang again immediately, but Mat chose to ignore it and tucked the device in his pocket as he gave himself one last glance in the mirror.

When the phone rang yet again, he huffed, prepared to answer and then immediately hang up on his dear, annoying baby sister, when he noticed it wasn’t Liana this time.

Stepping into his closet to choose an overcoat, he smiled and tapped the green button.

“Don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me now, G,” Mat said, half in jest, half in masked terror. “I just got dressed.”

To his dismay, Genevieve sounded panicked on the other end of the line.

“Uh, no, quite the opposite, actually,” she said nervously. “I’m kind of — okay, well, completely — freaking out over here, and I was wondering if you could maybe come over early and convince me not to call my professor and tell her I’m sick so I don’t have to see what a complete disaster this night turns out to be?”

Mat had pulled on a coat and flicked off the lights in his closet while she was talking, and he shifted the phone to his other ear to respond once she stopped rambling.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I’m leaving now. Sit tight. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Mat heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Maty,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His smile widened — he was always happy to play the role of knight in shining armor, but it meant more to him to be able to play it for Genevieve. His chest puffed with each word of her gratitude.

“You’re welcome, love,” he said before he realized the pet name that fell from his lips. But he couldn’t regret it, refused to even try, so he bid her goodbye for now and headed for the parking garage to ride away on his white stallion — er, Cadillac.

Ten minutes later — after navigating a route that should have taken at least fifteen — he was on her doorstep, the dozen red roses he had bought that morning in hand. Mat tried to act as though he wasn’t surprised to find her still in a set of Beau’s Isles sweats, donning her glasses, with her makeup half-finished and her hair not yet fixed. He glanced at the clock above her head that indicated only about forty minutes until they needed to leave the apartment, but decided to ignore that minor detail.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mat said charmingly, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you. For good luck.”

Genevieve’s lips turned up momentarily into a grin, then folded into a frown, and she looked as though she may burst into tears at any moment. Forcing his way in the door, Mat set the bouquet on the entry table and gathered her into his chest, resting a hand on the back of her head and rubbing small circles on her back with the other.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “What’s goin’ on, G? Talk to me, baby.” Oh, shit. Another pet name. He really had to stop doing that.

Genevieve seemed unaffected by the term, though, and drew a shaking breath before squeezing his waist tightly and stepping away.

“Everything! This event is gonna crash and burn and it’s all my fault,” she cried, flinging her hands skyward for dramatic effect.

“What do you mean?” Mat inquired. “And while we talk, why don’t we go to your room so you can keep getting ready?” he added, placing a gentle hand to her hip. Thankfully, she nodded, despite heaving a sigh. As he turned them down the hall, she let her swirling thoughts erupt.

“The caterer called an hour ago and said they didn’t put in an order big enough for tonight so they’re gonna have to supplement the food with basically whatever they can find,” Genevieve began as they entered her room, motioning for Mat to take a seat on her meticulously made bed, which felt far more intimate than he was prepared for, not that he was complaining. She sat on the vanity bench nearby and hurriedly applied eyeshadow to her lids, prattling all the while. As she spoke, Mat glanced down at the dress laid out on the foot of the bed on a hanger, and he swore he forgot his own name for a moment as he gaped at it blankly.

“And I specifically ordered peonies, not poppies. Like how the fuck does a florist mess that up! I just—“

“Wait, sorry to interrupt, but this is what you’re wearing?” Mat choked out, sliding the shiny fabric between his first two fingers and thumb. Genevieve nodded, hurriedly fastening on a pearl cluster earring smack dab in the midst of her blush and bronzer routine.

“Yeah, Anthony insisted on taking me shopping and made me buy the most expensive goddamn dress in the store for some reason,” she grumbled. Mat made a mental note to thank Beau profusely. “I told him I couldn’t accept it but — wait, why? You hate it, don’t you?”

Mat’s eyes bugged at her question before he swallowed hard, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, it’s just... you’re gonna look so unfair,” he chuckled. Genevieve gave him a disbelieving look.

“Hardly,” she disagreed, apparently not noticing how gone he was at the moment. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter what I wear because it’s going to be an absolute shit show.”

She threw a fluffy brush into her makeup caddy with a clatter, and Mat approached where she sat fussing over herself anxiously in the mirror. She couldn’t help but notice the way her breath caught in her throat when his long fingers came to rest on her shoulders, stretching to her collarbone as he gazed at her intensely in their reflection. She felt herself relax under his touch.

“I know you’ve convinced yourself of that,” Mat began, his voice low, slow, sincere. “And that probably nothing I say will change your mind. But even if the food is wrong and the flowers are wrong and it doesn’t look exactly how you pictured it, it’s still gonna be a success. Because you made it happen. And you’re the most organized, most dedicated, hardest-working person I know,” he said as she finished applying her lipstick and sat up straight with a long, calming breath.

“And you’re the sweetest person I know,” she admitted airily. Mat beamed, squeezing her trap muscles. “Thank you,” she added, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips, their eyes never straying from one another’s in the mirror until she stood up to face him.

He threw her hair over her shoulders and gawked at the perfect placement of her makeup, however much she had rushed its application.

“Makeup,” Mat spoke, drawing a pretend v-shape in thin air. “Check. One thing at a time.”

She snickered a bit, her hands ghosting across his suit coat for a moment, enchanted, before she snapped back to the task at hand.

“Okay, I have to go curl my hair, and then get dressed. And then, I’m ready,” she promised as Mat nodded and slowly returned to his seat on her bed. As she pulled a pair of strappy heels from underneath the bedskirt, he smiled down at her so fondly, and she realized she wouldn’t mind having him sitting right here more often.

Certainly wouldn’t mind.

She tossed Mat a wink as she picked up the dress, too, and hustled into the bathroom, suddenly feeling much more confident than she had without his presence — his reassurance.

Fifteen minutes later, after chattering with Mat through the door while taming her hair, she pulled on the dress and smoothed her hands over the skirt of it, tugged on her heels, and pulled open the door.

Mat stopped abruptly in the middle of a story about razzing her cousin at practice and stood to his feet, neither moving an inch.

Finally, Genevieve sighed and motioned toward her attire.

“So?” she spoke simply. “Acceptable?”

Mat scoffed, literally scoffed, and repeated, “Acceptable?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and couldn’t help the boyish giggle he let out. “More than acceptable, G. You look... wow. Incredible. So incredible.”

Genevieve could admit to herself that she was pleased with his reaction — in fact, she couldn’t quite seem to detach her eyes from his face as his stare roamed her figure. She leaned against the doorpost and smirked.

“Remember what I said earlier this week? About how I could just kiss you right now?” she asked mischievously. He nodded slowly, eyes still studying the way her dress pulled tight in exactly the right places, then finding their way back to hers. “Kinda feeling that way again right now,” she added.

He exhaled sharply, standing up straighter, as she took a couple of paces toward him.

“Is that so?” he teased. She nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Mat hummed in anticipation as she came ever closer. “You sure about that?” he asked firmly, extending his arms with his palms out toward her, trying his damnedest to keep her at a distance.

She only nodded again, a gleam in her eye, and paused just a couple of feet from him, waiting for his approval.

“Take another step looking like that and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Mat warned, giving her one final out.

A small laugh passed through Genevieve’s nose, and she looked down at their feet as she daringly moved forward.

“I’m okay with that,” she whispered as she looked back to his face. Mat only quirked his brow in response.

“I think it’s time I focus less on pushing you away, and more on just…” Genevieve tenderly wrapped her arms around Mat’s neck. “Just finally letting things happen the way they’re supposed to,” she spoke.

Mat froze for a moment, then broke into an enormous grin. “Yeah?” he asked in awe.

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded, driving him insane. He pressed her lower back into his body as she assured, “Yeah. This is what I want.”

Mat barely let her speak that last word before capturing her lips in a searing kiss — all the nerves and anxiety about avoiding this melting away in a heartbeat as she moaned softly into his mouth, eliciting a smile from him against her skin.

“You’re beautiful, G,” Mat whispered when he finally came up for air. “You know that?” Genevieve blushed and tried to hide her face in Mat’s chest, but with a roll of his eyes, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and angled her face toward his own.

“No, none of that,” he said. “I’ve waited this long to be with you, G. Just let me look at you and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

Mat felt the warmth of her cheeks as he caressed them with the backs of his hands, losing himself in her criminally blue eyes.

“You are something else, Maty,” she said, letting her hands rest on his taut stomach as she leaned into him. “Now we really have to go, or we’re gonna be late.” With one last kiss pressed against his lips, Genevieve spun away from him, grabbed the pearl clutch from her bed, and tossed him a particularly wicked glance over her shoulder, laughing at his dumbfounded expression as she drifted out of the room.

And as he watched her walk away from him, hips swaying beneath the satin of her dress...

Mat knew he had no choice but to follow wherever she led.

_____

Whether she was aware of it or not, the girl knew how to command a room.

As Mat watched Genevieve engage the many high-profile sponsors and potential donors in the ballroom, he found himself thinking that he really didn’t even need to be here. She had this in the bag, and he was just arm candy for the night. And he realized he didn’t mind a bit.

Even so, he couldn’t help but swell with pride when she regularly turned away from conversations throughout the evening, searching the many faces in the crowd until she found his, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes flashing with affection when she finally did.

Finally, Mat sensed that the peace he had long ago found in her, she now felt in him. Nothing could ever make him happier than that.

Despite having different food and flowers than what Genevieve had planned, the event was a smashing success. She learned from her professor near the end of the gala that they had raised a quarter of a million dollars for the Islanders Children’s Foundation in this single night — a figure which made her nearly choke on her champagne and subsequently back Mat into a coat closet to reveal privately. Only he was more excited about the triumph than she, clutching excitedly at her sides as he pulled her to himself for a fiery kiss and gleefully congratulated her, both of them trying to stay as quiet as possible to remain undetected. When they regained their composure, they walked regally arm in arm back into the ballroom to say their thank you’s and goodbyes.

As they waited outside for the valet, Mat held Genevieve from behind, his arms encircling her waist under the grand stone archways of the old building. In her ear, he whispered her praises, pressing a kiss to her temple or jaw between each adjective as they awaited their ride.

“Smart. Beautiful. Capable. Stunning. Perfect. Worthy. Mine.”

That last one prompted her to spin in his arms, unashamed of who might see, and grasp his face for a firm kiss.

“Yours,” she whispered back dreamily.

_____

Soon they were back at her apartment building, rushing down the hall hand in hand, fully prepared to take advantage of Beau’s night on the town. Mat was mouthing hungrily at the back of Genevieve’s neck, from one side to the other, as she squealed and clumsily unlocked the door — a feat which took approximately five times as long as it normally did, considering the distraction hanging off of her, snaking its long arms around her torso as she finally tumbled through the doorway. Mat held onto her hips with a laugh to prevent her from falling on her face onto the tile beneath them, pulling her upward to resume their makeout until…

“Don’t you two look cute.”

Beau’s voice rang from the couch, startling both Mat and Genevieve as she pushed him away to create some distance between them. Mat cleared his throat as he unceremoniously gathered his footing beneath him. They both stood motionless in the entryway for several moments before Genevieve blinked at the basketball game playing on the television.

“Wait. What the hell, Anth… you’re watching the Nets game on TV? What happened to your date?” Genevieve asked as she took a few steps into the living room, tossing her clutch onto the couch so that she could put both hands on her hips and aim as much attitude as possible at her cousin.

“Yeah, I lied about that. The Nets are in Boston tonight, you geniuses,” Anthony informed them casually, taking the last swig from his beer bottle and placing it on the coffee table as he leaned forward.

“What do you mean, you lied? What the fuck, man?” Mat asked, incredulous.

“I did it on purpose!” Anthony bellowed, before the two gaped at him. “You two goons haven’t figured it out on your own by now, so I figured if I ditched, forced you into some alone time, bought G a pretty dress, maybe you’d see yourselves for what you really are. Hopelessly, disgustingly in love with each other. And apparently, it worked.”

Mat ran a hand slowly through his hair, tugging on his locks with a quiet laugh. Genevieve stood still, a hand suspended in mid-air, and whispered, “You planned this?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Of course I planned this,” he confirmed. “You really think I would just bail on you at the last minute for some girl? No! I knew you’d ask Mat, and I knew he would come to your rescue, and I knew you guys would have a great night together. Win, win, win.” Anthony rested his back against the couch once more, propping his feet up on the coffee table and folding his hands behind his head as he waggled his eyebrows. “I’m good, huh?” he remarked.

Mat took four quick strides toward his best friend and made a show of grabbing Anthony’s face and pressing a lip-smacking kiss to his forehead, which Anthony giggled over and wiped away, shaking his head.

“You’re my hero, man,” Mat spoke as he returned to Genevieve’s side and tucked her beneath his arm. Timidly, Genevieve asked Anthony, “You mean you’re not mad?”

Anthony’s big eyes grew even wider. “Mad?! My best friend and practically my sister are finally making each other happy. I’d be crazy to be mad! Or I’d be the Grinch. And I’m not the Grinch!” he assured as he pointed towards them.

Genevieve beamed, walking his way and placing a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm.

“Merci beaucoup,” she whispered when she pulled back from his face, only to see that he was smiling from ear to ear. He gave her a solemn nod.

Genevieve extended a hand toward Mat which he accepted gladly, then she turned back to her cousin.

“Well, on that note, since your plan was such a success, and so was my event, Mat and I are gonna go celebrate,” she informed him with a grin. Anthony chuckled and lifted his beer bottle in their direction.

“Cheers to that,” he said. “I’ll just turn up the volume.”

Mat and Genevieve laughed and said goodnight before making their way down the hall. Mat couldn’t close the door fast enough before spinning her and pinning her against it as she smirked, her form melting into his as he kissed her fiercely. For several minutes they stayed there as one, with their parting lips and their breathing the only sounds in the room. Soon, Mat pulled back, both his hands holding Genevieve’s face as he searched her eyes.

“Promise me this is really what you want, G. Promise me you won’t push me away again,” he implored, his voice sounding needier than it ever had. Genevieve felt the stab at her gut upon remembering once more that she’d really almost fucked this up.

She sifted her fingers through his long, coal black hair of his and looked into his green-flecked eyes, which begged her for reassurance. Mat swallowed thickly as she cupped his strong jaw.

“I promise I won’t, Mathew,” she whispered. “I won’t. I can’t. I need you.”

With that, she squeezed his cheeks between her fingers and smothered his lips with her own. Mat tasted the sweet champagne on her skin and moaned.

“Mine,” he said again, gruffly this time, into her ear as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw.

“Yours,” she repeated breathlessly.

#juliaswinterwriting #my writing #mathew barzal #mat barzal #barzal #nhl #hockey #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal writing #mat barzal writing #hockey writing #nhl writing #anthony beauvillier

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delaber · 3 years

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Rafael Casal x Reader

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: Thanks for the prompts! This was fun! Smut prompts can be found here. Feel free to send me more. Angst prompts can be found on my masterlist.

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: A bit of blood and a lot of smut (my buzzwords, apparently)

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Rafa had truly done it this time. He had truly fucked up. Stepped in a pile of shit. Screwed the pooch. Whatever you wanted to call it. All because of a woman in his life who he had never truly appreciated before.

You.

He had always prided himself on his ability to stay cool, calm, and collected when it came to women, but suddenly you had shown up and it had changed everything. Well, he had known you since high school, so you hadn't suddenly shown up per se, but suddenly you had shown up almost naked! Gulp. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. He had always known that you were fine, but it had still taken him almost ten years to realise that you were indeed very, very, very fine!

You had been alluring all summer but for some reason, today was extra torturous: the skimpy little bathing suit tight against your body, how it hugged your tits so he could see your hard nipples through the wet fabric as you emerged from the pool. How it rested against the wonderful shape of your ass. Your skin all wet and slippery. How easy it'd be to just wrap his arms around you and carry you to one of the bedrooms in Diggs' new house. How he could easily make you moan his name repeatedly while he did wonders to your tight little body. Fuck.

Since the day he'd met you, Rafa had always found you insanely cute and funny so naturally he had turned up the charm whenever you were around. You had picked up on it quite fast, had challenged him, and within the first few weeks of your friendship, it had become a continuous game between you; who could flirt the most? Who could make the other person squirm in their own skin? It had always been in good fun and it had never lead to anything apart from whispered sentences late at night and sporadic drunk kisses in the dark. But never more. He had made sure of that.

Of course Rafa had spent some of his teenage years wondering what it would be like to delve into you - but seeing this side to you - seeing you all grown-up and sexy like this just hit differently. He had had a hard time all summer trying to stay as far away from you as possible to not fuck up. Not because he thought he couldn't convince you to spend the night with him, but because he wasn't really sure of the repercussions of sleeping with one of his best friends. At first, he had thought that he just needed to get it out of his system and he had experienced some wonderful sessions of self-relief while imagining you doing all kinds of stuff to him, but after almost three months of lonely nights with the image of your body glued to the back of his eyelids, he realised that he was indeed royally fucked.

From a distance, Rafa watched you neatly lie down your pool towel on a sun bed, in the process flashing your perfect shapes for him. He was well aware that he had been staring at you for quite some time now, but he was wearing his sunglasses and they had been known to conceal a wandering eye or two in the past so he felt safe looking at you from the other end of Diggs' yard. And concealment was of the utmost crucial importance because right now he absolutely could not look away from you: your well-shaped bottom was strutting in the air almost as if inviting him to touch it. He imagined you looking over you shoulder with heavy-hooded eyelids calling him over while touching yourself. He would walk over to you, yank your bathing suit aside, and spread your legs apart for him on the flimsy sun bed. He would delve into you from behind and caress your throat with his lips while you moaned with imminent pleasure. You would—

He suddenly realised how creepy he was being; luring at fine women from a distance?! Pull yourself together, Casal!

With a small shuffle, he tore his gaze away from you and poured himself the drink that he had been meaning to mix before you had stolen away his attention. Vodka Redbull. A horrible drink, really, but he needed the pick-me-up to get over last night's hangover. Sunglasses and advil weren't really doing the trick today.

"She's extra fine this summer isn't she?" Rafa heard his best friend comment beside him.

"Who?" Rafa said quietly as if he had no idea who Diggs was talking about.

Diggs shot Rafa an unimpressed look, "bro, I know you think you're subtle about it, but I've caught you slipping all summer."

Rafa knew his cover was blown. He had never been able to hide anything from his best friend. With a sigh, he mumbled "Has it really been that obvious?"

"I'm not sure if anybody else has noticed but I sure have," Diggs snickered, "you are so smitten!"

"Fuck off bro, I'm not smitten. I could've bagged her ages ago if I wanted to."

"So you wouldn't mind if I walked up to her and made a move?" Diggs arched an eyebrow.

"No," Rafa said, the lie thick in his throat, "- or of course I would mind. It would wound my prospects of ever getting to live out this dirty little fantasy I have in my head, wouldn't it?" he chuckled as he tried to save his obvious lie.

"Oh my, I don't think I've seen you this desperate since... well - ever," Diggs laughed, "and I know she's into you too. Has been for ages. Go turn up the charm for fuck's sake!"

Rafa shot his friend a sideways glance, "we've known her since forever."

"So?"

"A compelling counter-point," Rafa rolled his eyes with a small smirk, "you almost have me convinced."

"Shut up man," Diggs laughed before he continued, "I mean, you've never cared about awkward mornings before. Why do you suddenly care about it with her?"

"She's a good friend," Rafa said quietly.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking; that the absolute worst case scenario is that you guys will never talk to each other again - which, might I add, is highly unlikely!" he quickly added when he saw that Rafa was about to interject. Diggs continued, "you have the same group of friends. You see each other all the time. It simply won't happen. So in my opinion, the worst case scenario is not that you will never talk to each other again, it will in fact be a few months of awkwardness before things bounce back. Who cares? You haven't talked all summer because you're having a hard time keeping it in your pants. You can go on and have a few months of awkwardness afterwards too if it turns out to be weird between you."

"You really think that?" Rafa eyed his best friend for any sign of doubt.

"I'm sure of it," Diggs said resolutely, "you need to give it a shot before someone else comes along and snatches her before your eyes. I know you like her more than what you're telling me."

Rafa had to give it to Diggs; this time, he actually did make a compelling point. "Yeah alright," he groaned before he made a quick decision; he downed the horrible vodka Redbull, mixed two tequila sunrises - your favourite drink, he knew that - and walked over to you with as much swagger as he could muster.

He stopped in front of the tanning bed you were occupying, and immediately attracted your attention as he was shadowing the sun.

"Rafa?" you said and squinted up at him. You had to conceal a small gulp. He looked particularly dreamy today. "Hi..."

Rafa felt his throat run a bit dry, "Hey... I brought you a drink. Tequila sunrise."

"Yeah, uh, thanks..." you eyed him suspiciously as he handed you the tequila sunrise and when he didn't leave afterwards you added, "uhm - would you like to sit down?"

Rafa nodded eagerly and you moved your feet to the side to make room for him on the sun bed next to your body. He sat down close to your knees and had a large sip of his drink, hoping that it would cure some of the dryness he suddenly felt in his throat.

You eyed him intently. It was weird having him up close again. Especially because his absence and weird behaviour had been annoying you all summer. He had been acting totally out of character; he had been almost distant and cold as he had practically ignored you. "What can I do for you, Rafa?" you asked him with a hesitant smile, trying to sound calm. You couldn't reveal how frustrated his absence had made you. He couldn't know that you had been pining after him for years.

Rafa's mind went into overload; oh, what couldn't you do for him? He wanted to let you know that he was one word of approval away from throwing you over his shoulder so he could carry you to Diggs' bedroom. He wanted to do all the things that he had dreamt of for the last couple of months. He wanted you on your knees in front of him. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair while your mouth was wrapped around him. He wanted you to send him innocent looks while you let your tongue run over him.

He cleared his throat and shuffled around a bit trying to hide the fact that his slacks had grown a bit tighter. "Uh - I don't need you to do a thing," he said with a secretive smile, "how are you?"

"I'm good," you answered him slowly, still not really sure why he had suddenly approached you. "How about you?"

"I'm perfect," Rafa nodded, "Did you have an alright summer?"

You sent him a surprised smile. He was asking about your summer now? This friendliness he was suddenly portraying seemed to come out of nowhere. "An alright summer, yeah," you leaned back in the sun bed as you realised that you'd have to let Rafa's weird behaviour go. If he had finally worked out whatever had made him act strange since June, it was a good thing for the both of you. It meant that you could have your friend back. You could have your flirting back - and my god, how you had missed being on the receiving end of his excessive flirting!

"Glad to hear it," he smiled at you while running his fingers through his blonde hair.

"You've grown out your hair," you stated with a nod.

"Yeah," Rafa smiled and tugged on one of his long locks, "Diggs kept telling me that I looked 35 with the short hair and the beard, so I figured it'd be best to let it get a bit longer again."

"You look nice," you smiled at him, "I've always liked this hairstyle on you."

Rafa felt an eruption of colour in his chest when he heard your compliment. Relax, Casal, she's just flirting as usual. "Yeah, thanks," he said and looked at his feet to conceal the goofy smile that was slowly creeping onto his lips, "It's really great to see you. I feel like we haven't talked in forever," he muttered quietly.

You had already forgiven him for his weird behaviour but you were still determined to find out why you hadn't talked in forever. You let your gaze pierce through him, "I'm actually quite glad that you approached me," you eyed him. Now seemed just as good a time as any to bring it up, "I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Yeah?" He looked up at you with a twinkle in his eye, "About what?"

You looked around on the other sun beds. Maybe he wasn't too keen on discussing private matters in front of the rest of the gang. "It's a bit crowded out here," you said with a smile, "wanna go inside?"

Rafa nodded eagerly and stood up from the sun bed, pulling you to your feet. "Ladies first," he mumbled and let you walk a few feet in front of him.

"When did you become so gallant?" you laughed at him.

When I realised that you are, in fact, more than averagely well-turned, Rafa thought to himself. He had thought it through; walking a few feet behind you would allow him to look at your well-proportionate body parts swaying in the sunlight without fear of getting caught by you. He was mildly disgusted with himself but pushed the thought away before he followed you inside like an obedient pet, his eyes glued to your tanned legs.

You led Rafa to the secluded kitchen away from the pool area. Alone at last, you turned around and leaned up against the kitchen counter, looking at the handsome man in front of you.

He was having a hard time concentrating on your face as the shift in temperature from the sun outside to the air-conditioned kitchen had made your nipples rock hard. He could see them through the thin fabric of your red bathing suit, and all he wanted to do was to slip his hands under there and massage your tits with his warm hands. He wanted to pull down the straps to reveal your beautiful build to him. He wanted to take your breasts in his mouth and circle your nipples with his tongue until you were begging him to take you to a room with a bed.

"Are you alright?" you asked him when he seemed a little distant.

"Yeah, I'm good," Rafa smirked at the mental image of you on all four in front of him, "what's up?"

"I'm gonna be straight with you. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Rafa gave himself a mental shake and promised himself that he would concentrate on your words and not your body. This seemed important to you.

"Have you been angry with me?" You looked at him with piercing eyes.

The question took Rafa aback, "What? Why would I have been angry with you?"

"No clue," you shrugged, "but you've been weirdly dismissive all summer and you've kept your distance to me, so I've been wondering if I've done something to upset you."

"No, everything's in perfect order. You've been perfectly fine," he said with a small smirk.

"So we're okay? You and me?"

"Of course," he nodded, "more than okay."

"Good, I'm glad to hear you say that."

There was a small awkward pause between you where neither of you knew what to do or say. Rafa tried desperately not to look at your round tits right in front of him, so he directed his attention to the wine cooler behind you in an attempt to look occupied. It gave him an idea however: "Hey, did Diggs ever give you a tour of the house?" he asked you, eyes glued to a bottle of nice champagne in the cooler.

"Not yet," you smiled, "he promised me one later."

"Yeah, same," Rafa mumbled, opened the cooler, and pulled out the champagne bottle, "how about we show ourselves around?" he said and wriggled his eyebrows, "sprinkle it up with a little champagne, you know?" he winked at you.

"Now who could say no to that?" you laughed and watched Rafa pop the champagne and pour you a glass.

"Cheers," Rafa held out his glass and you gladly clinked it.

He emptied his entire glass in one fast gulp, "this is some fancy shit," he said quietly while examining the bottle.

"Should we even be drinking this?"

Rafa directed his attention towards you with a small laugh, "well it's open now isn't it? I'm sure Diggs won't mind. Bottoms up before we continue our tour. I'll get you a refill."

You smiled to yourself; Rafa's nonchalant and cavalier attitude was exactly what had attracted you to him in the first place. You did as he said, gulped down the golden liquid, and was soon standing with another full glass in hand. "Where to first?" you asked after you'd had a sip of the second glass.

"Upstairs?" Rafa asked with a shrug, grabbing both his glass and the bottle with his left hand. He put his right hand on the small of your back, and directed you towards the staircase. He noticed a small smile creep onto your lips at the skin-against-skin contact. You were both back to your usual flirting and his plan was in action. Shake, rattle, and roll.

He let you climb the stairs in front of him and it didn't take him long before he was completely hypnotised by the swaying ass in front of him. The nice curve. The way the red fabric clung nicely to your buttocks every time you took a step forwards. The tantalising sway. And he couldn't even touch you. It was pure torture, he told himself as he gulped down his second glass of champagne while following you up the stairs. He clearly needed it.

"Refill?" he asked you as you'd reached the top.

"So soon?" you arched an eyebrow at him but emptied your glass, ready for your third refill.

"I'm thirsty," Rafa smirked and could already feel his hangover disappear as it was replaced with him getting tipsy. "Rules of champagne-tours are that you need to empty your glass before you enter a room."

"Okay, you're clearly more updated on the rules than I am so I believe you," you laughed at him and took a look around the first floor, "left or right?" you asked.

"Let's try left," Rafa said and followed you to a small room, "Wait! Before you enter you need to empty your glass."

"Again? Are you trying to get me drunk?" you arched an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I don't make the rules," he sent you an innocent look before he emptied his third glass.

You sent him a suspicious look but ended up following suit and emptied your glass before you let him refill it a fourth time. You could feel yourself getting more and more tipsy. And Rafa looked cuter and cuter.

"After you," he said and opened the door to the small room in front of you.

"Okay, this is an office or something of the sort," you laughed after you'd entered, "this is boring."

"Very boring," Rafa groaned as he took in the desk, the computer, and the three filing cabinets standing along one of the walls. "Let's move along shall we?" he whipped around and hit his head against a cabinet on the wall with a loud bang.

He heard you gasp behind him before he felt the sharp pain on his cheekbone followed by something wet running down the side of his face. He turned around, facing you, the blood running steadily down his cheek.

"Are you okay?" you said in a concerned voice before it turned to laughter.

"Hey, why are you laughing?" Rafa chuckled at the sight of you as he touched the warm blood running down his face

"I'm so sorry!" you continued laughing, "but you should see the look on your face right now. You look so wronged!"

"It was an assassination attempt!" he smiled, "did you bring me in here to neutralise me?" he emptied his fourth glass of champagne to soothe the sharp pain.

"Yes," you said all seriously, "I work for the Israeli government and I've been sent to America to take out whiney boys who steal champagne from their best friends. And as revenge, I let them bleed."

"Would a Mossad agent such as yourself happen know how to clean a wound?" He asked with a playful smile, "because I think I might need a small band-aid. This shit will not stop bleeding."

"Lucky for you, I'm specialised in treating wounded animals in Siberia. Come," you took his hand and pulled him towards a bathroom you'd noticed as you'd passed it in the hallway.

Rafa liked being tugged around by you: your small hand in his felt absolutely right. He wondered what it would feel like with your fingers wrapped around his erection and he felt his cock do a small twitch in his boxers at the mental image of you rubbing him off. ...Okay he really needed to pull himself together.

Desperate to think of something else he looked around the bathroom. "Indoor hot tub!" he exclaimed as you let go of his hand and went to the small cabinet under the sink.

"Only eighties kids get this excited over a hot tub inside," you laughed at his excited kid-like face and pulled out a band aid and some rubbing alcohol, "sit down on the edge so I can clean the wound."

"Yes ma'am," Rafa said and looked at you as you concentrated on reading the instructions on the bottle of rubbing alcohol. You looked damned cute with your nose all scrunched up.

You found a cotton pad in the cabinet as well and sat down next to him, "okay," you looked him in the eye, "this is gonna sting but try to sit still."

"Okay," he said quietly and waited with anticipation for your hands to touch his skin - even if it was a place as non-sexy as the skin below his eye where he had cut himself by being embarrassing. He took whatever he could get.

You carefully draped the cotton pad across the cut he had on his cheekbone and felt yourself blush as he closed his eyes and hissed involuntarily. You wanted to rip his clothes off.

He felt your small fingers ghost over his skin as you cleaned the wound. He tried to fight it, but couldn't hold back the visible shiver that went through his body.

"Aw, Casal, am I giving you goosebumps?" you laughed softly as you cleaned his cheek.

"Yeah," he smiled goofily at you and felt the champagne talk some courage into him, "it's either the cold from the rubbing alcohol or your bathing suit. Not sure which."

"My bathing suit?" you laughed at him.

Rafa chuckled softly, "yeah, it's a nice colour," he mumbled, "this red looks amazing on you."

"So you're saying that the colour of my bathing suit is sending shivers down your spine?"

"Yeah..." he said in an obvious lie.

"The colour... and not the cut?" you asked looking into his eyes, wriggling your chest in front of him. You had always loved the rare times where you could make Rafa - the always calm and collected womaniser - uncomfortable. This seemed like one of those times.

"Uh - the - uh - the bathing suit isn't too shabby either," Rafa chuckled slightly as he let his eyes run over your wriggling chest. You would definitely be the death of him.

"You like my bathing suit?" you said quietly as you too felt the champagne rush to your head.

This time, Rafa didn't answer you but just nodded and gulped visibly. He looked as if he was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself and it was turning you the fuck on. For years, you had wanted Rafa to actually do something about his relentless flirting. "I have to admit; I bought it with you in mind," you sent him a small shrug as if it was nothing.

His smile grew wide, "yeah? Did you dress up like this just for me?"

"I wanted you to notice me," you said with a small smile.

"Well it worked," he said quietly and ran his eyes over your chest.

"Good," you chuckled and turned your face away from his. In the past, he had had several chances to act and he hadn't. It was stupid of you to believe that he wanted more than just a bit of casual flirting - even if it did feel like years of flirting had been leading to this moment.

Glad to have something that could divert your attention away from the very fuckable guy in front of you, you picked up the band aid that was lying in your lap, took it out of its packaging and carefully put in over the cut on Rafa's cheek bone. Your eyes were glued to the cut for a couple of seconds, allowing Rafa to gaze into your eyes.

It's now or never, he thought to himself and reacted before he could hold himself back; he reached out his hand and put it just below your chin, leaned forwards and planted a brief, soft kiss on your lips. You had kissed before but this one somehow felt different. His kisses had always been short and sweet - he had practically perfected pulling away from you before losing all control - but today was extra hard. He couldn't believe himself... Ten years of holding himself back and a fucking bathing suit had him feeling like a teenager again. Calm the fuck down, Casal.

"Thanks for taking care of me," he hummed against your lips and retracted his face from yours.

You let out a small whimper at the lack of contact but came to your senses soon enough. "A pleasure," you smiled up at him and slightly cleared your throat, "we should continue our tour."

Rafa nodded and emptied the rest of the champagne bottle in each of your glasses. He quickly poured it down his throat. "House rules," he shrugged when you sent him a bemused smile.

You followed suit, bottomed up and put down your glass next to the kitchen sink. You gave Rafa's arm a slight tug and urged him to follow you to the next room on the tour.

Rafa gladly - and slightly dizzy - followed you out of the bathroom and into the next room on the tour; Diggs' bedroom apparently. It seemed almost scripted.

"Master bedroom," you exclaimed when you saw the king sized bed in the middle of the room. You looked over at Rafa who was swaying a little, "are you okay?" you laughed.

"I'm a bit dizzy," Rafa joined in laughing, "not sure if it's the assassination attempt or the amount of champagne I've had."

"Probably a little bit of both," you smiled and put a hand on his arm to help him steady a little, "do you need to lie down for a minute?"

"Yeah, I think I better," he let out a small laugh and threw himself down on the bed.

You quickly followed suit, and positioned yourself on the bed next to him, "is the room spinning or is it just me?" you laughed.

"Oh it's definitely spinning," Rafa chuckled and reached out to touch your hand, "ah, much better," he said as he recalled the feeling in his abdomen when you had kissed only minutes earlier. He wanted to kiss you again. He couldn't hold himself back.

"I agree," you said softly and looked over at him, "how's your boo-boo?" you let out a small laugh.

"Still stings," he shot you a small smile and remembered Diggs words. He had to snatch you up before someone else did. What he did now seemed to be crucial to how your interactions would be shaped in the future. So he decided to just go for it, "you know... my mom used to kiss the pain away."

"You want me to kiss it off you?" You laughed.

"It might help," he said and brushed his fingers against your skin as his hand moved further up your arm.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" you laughed.

"Yeah, maybe," Rafa said and felt how the champagne made him daring and truthful, "you've been driving me insane all summer."

"I have?" you chuckled, slightly surprised, "is that why you've stayed away from me?"

"Yeah, I've been having a hard time keeping my hands to myself..." he chuckled innocently.

You decided to act on how cute you'd always found Rafa, leaned closer to him and repeated the short and sweet kiss you'd shared in the bathroom a couple of minutes earlier.

When you retracted your lips from his, Rafa moved his head forwards and continued the soft kiss, this time with a bit more power to it.

This was definitely new, you thought to yourself as you moved your lips in time with Rafa's.

He popped himself up on one elbow and kissed you so sensually that you physically felt the wetness between your legs. So his tongue could do more than spit out silvered words? Rafa had game! His soft tongue was slowly caressing yours while he let his hand run over your upper body. You felt the goosebumps emerge on your skin as he ran his fingers over your ribcage.

Rafa broke the kiss and sent you a smirk, "look who's sending who shivers now," he snickered.

"Shut up," you groaned and leaned forwards, softly recapturing his lips.

He hummed against you as you slowly moved your lips across his. His thumbs were brushing against the sensitive skin just below your boobs, but he didn't touch you anywhere that wasn't considered safe. He wanted you to approve of it before he delved into you.

You understood his careful actions and wriggled around a bit to get him to touch you properly.

"Are you sure?" he whispered against your lips, "you've had quite a bit to drink and I've been trying to seduce you."

"Just be happy it worked," you smiled against him, "I've been wanting this too..."

Rafa's smile grew wide, "really?" he laughed

"Yes. Now shut up and kiss me."

He inched his lips closer to yours and captured them once more. His tongue caressed yours slowly and sensually while his hand squeezed your thigh tightly. A small moan escaped your lips when your fingers tugged on his long strands of hair.

Rafa pulled you on top of him so you were straddling his waist.

You let out a small smirk when you felt his erection underneath you, "you're already hard."

"I've been hard all summer," he groaned as his lips found your throat, "you've been driving me insane in all your little sundresses. You have no idea how hard it's been to hold myself back."

"You don't have to hold yourself back with me," you whispered and looked into his green eyes while you moved your hips suggestively on top of him.

"From now on, I have no intentions of doing so," he groaned at the friction, his hands moving to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly, he pulled them over your arms, making sure to kiss your clavicles in the meantime. He pulled down the red bathing suit and revealed your small round tits topped with small perky nipples for him. Exactly as he had imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, while showing the other love by cupping your breast lovingly. You let out a sharp moan when you felt his tongue circle your areola.

Rafa's erection grew considerably and when you danced your fingers down his chest, and he decided to do something about it. He threw you down on the bed next to him and forcefully ripped off the bottom half of your bathing suit, leaving you completely naked on the bed. He took a step back and admired your finally naked body before him, your wet pussy glistening in the sunlight. He palmed himself through his slacks and let out a groan at the sight of you writhing on the bed, looking up at him with lust in your eyes. Your small hand was running along the length of your glistening slit and he had never been more jealous of a couple of fingers.

"Take of your clothes," you panted as you spread your legs apart.

Rafa quickly shuffled out of his shirt and slacks but kept his boxers on.

"Last chance to back out," he said as he leaned over you and trailed his hand down your body. You let out a small moan as his lips found yours, his fingers hovering above your waistline. "If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself," he groaned in between kisses.

"Who says I want you to stop?" You let out yet another moan as his tongue found yours again.

"Good," he smirked against you. His fingers found your heated centre and you let out a raspy breath when his fingers dipped inside your sensitive folds. "Fuck you're so wet for me," he growled as he easily found your tight opening and pushed a couple of fingers inside you. You were moaning excessively and pushing yourself against his playful fingers as the was toying with you.

"Fuck, you look so good with my fingers inside you," he growled, "tell me how much you've wanted this!"

"So bad," you panted and looked up into his darkened eyes, "I've been wanting you to fuck me for years."

"Yeah?" He felt himself getting even more excited and he moved his fingers faster in an out if you, "have you been thinking about me when you're alone at night?"

"Yes," you whispered.

"Tell me about what you've been fantasising about."

You pushed his fingers out of you and sat up straight on the bed, sending him a lustful look. "I've been thinking about your big, heavy cock," you said as you pulled off his boxers, revealing his erection to you. You took him in your hand and ran your tongue over his wet head. Rafa shot back his head with a small groan, but kept the eye contact.

"What else?" He panted as he watched you pop his head in your mouth.

"This," you said, "my lips around you. Your fingers inside me."

"How can I deny you that?" He stroked your cheek, "lie down."

You did as he told and watched Rafa climb onto the bed on his knees. He positioned himself close to your face and ran his hand down your abdomen, his fingers easily finding their way to your pussy. You reached up and grabbed him by the root, positioning yourself so you could wrap your lips around him while his fingers worked their way inside you.

You bopped your mouth up and down his length a few times, releasing his head with a small pop before starting over.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he bucked his hips closer to your face, "fuck you look amazing."

You let your tongue swirl around him while your hand pumped up and down him a few times. He shot back his head with a groan, "fuck I'm not going to last long," he panted.

You pulled your face away from him and said, "are you going to cum down my throat?" Before your lips resumed their positions around him.

"Yes," he panted, "are you going to take it all for me?"

You nodded and pulled him down your throat.

"Oh fuck," he panted and pushed his hair out of his eyes, "fuck you're working me like a pro."

You tightened your lips' grip around him and swirled your tongue around his head that had started leaking down your throat.

"Oh shit," he groaned and caressed the side of your face, "fuck you look so sexy with your lips around my cock. Fuck I'm so close!"

You pulled him as far down your throat as you could and reached up to cup his balls.

Rafa's breathing was hushed and shallow and he had his eyes closed. His fingers were still fidgeting with your clit but his movements were sporadic and lazy as he couldn't concentrate on much else apart from the tight wetness around him. With your tongue swirling around his head, your left hand cupping his balls, and your right hand working its way up and down his shaft, he gave out three loud grunts before he started shaking above you, warm cum shooting down your throat. He grunted a few times with his eyes closed before he came to his senses, pulled his fingers out of you and licked them only to have them resume their positions on your core.

"Oh god," you moaned as his fingers curled inside you, "oh fuck Rafa."

"Turn around for me," he whispered.

Quickly, you turned around and were sitting on all four in front of him.

"Ass up," he said and gave you a hard spank before he ran his hand over you.

With a pant, you buried your face in the mattress, "are you going to fuck me now?"

"I can't do that now," he groaned and positioned his face behind you, "it's your fault. You and your amazing lips," he said and caressed your ass with his hands for a couple of seconds, "say my name," he groaned as ran his tongue over you.

"Rafa!" You moaned when you felt his tongue.

"No. My name," he gave out a muffled demand.

"Rafael," you panted and he pushed his fingers inside you as a reward.

"Yeah, that's right," he said darkly and felt you tighten around his fingers, "fuck you're driving me insane. You're so good for me. Have you been wanting this for a long time?"

"Uh-huh," you panted in response.

"Show me," he panted before he started moving his tongue and fingers faster against you.

"Oh fuck! Rafa! Rafael!" You moaned loudly as you felt all your nerve-endings tightening between your legs. Rafa's tongue was moving sloppily over you as you cried out with your release, the grip around his fingers pulsating and tightening significantly.

Rafa was enjoying the sight before him - although a little disappointed that your tight gripping was wasted on something as boring as his fingers.

When you had panted and moaned out his name, he pulled his fingers out of you and let you plump down on the mattress.

You were still panting when you looked up at him with a huge grin, "why have we never done this before?"

"Because we're very stupid," Rafa chuckled and plumped down next to you, "that was amazing!"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Next time, I'm not letting you corrupt me to cum down your throat," he groaned and gave your breasts a kiss, "next time, I'm going to fuck you so hard."

"We're gonna do it again?" You arched a bemused eyebrow at him.

"Of course. Call me selfish but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #smut #smut prompts #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys

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roll-da-credits · 3 years

Text

Lycoris Radiata Pt. 3 - Deku x Reader -

Inspired by the piano piece, "Lycoris Radiata," Written by Spikes, played by MusicalBasics.

Highly recommend listening to it whilst reading.

[1] [2] [3]

Word Count: 1.7k

When a childhood love shows up after being lost to time, it's unnerving to be presented by something so familiar yet different. Deku, lost to his own love and presented with the stresses of life and unrequited love, it isn't easy to see the world with an unbiased gaze.

!WARNING!

(This is for the entire series and not just this part)

BIG TW for death, suicide, abuse,

Minor TW for death imagery, toxic relationship, toxic friendship, toxic shit all around

A/n: First off, this last part, please read with caution. There are a lot of serious topics in this one that can be triggering to some people. This feels really weird to post ngl, I was actually planning on posting the entire thing in 1 part but it was ridiculously long and the pacing was so incredibly slow. After editing it down and proofreading, I'm extremely proud and glad I made it a 3 parter. So, again, read with caution, enjoy the story, and I hope you cried.

Imagery used:

Snapdragon seed pods, red snapdragons, red spider lilies

He came to your café a little bit more often now, there was a fear inside of him that he wouldn’t be able to save you either.

He didn’t know from what, where, or when. But after the two innocent girl’s life was taken away from them just because they were in the wrong situation. He felt a little bit paranoid at your own safety.

But almost every time he inquired you to get extra precautions, your boyfriend would always assure Deku that you were safe with him. And Deku trusted him.

Deku would constantly talk to you about whatever topic came into his mind, he wanted to talk to you more and love you even more even if it hurt him. Call him a masochist he didn’t care, love to him was a drug he couldn’t get enough of, even if that very thing giving him so much love can’t receive it from him, because you were receiving it from someone else.

His pink tinted eyes now growing red from the sheer amount of love he had for you. It grew cloudy and red, to the point where he found everything you do close to perfect.

He saw you as a beautiful goddess.

As the days slowly change from Summer to Fall, he saw more of the red flowers he found in the cemetery growing near your café.

When he asked you if you wanted to get rid of them, you laughed and brushed it off with what he thinks was a sly smile.

He wanted to believe that you actually started blooming them around the café since you knew he found them fascinating. Of course, there was no proof to this theory of his, but something Deku liked to do was a dream, and right now he dreamt of you giving hints of your love.

Then one day, he walked by the café just as it was closing on his way home and found your boyfriend yelling at you. You yelled back at him in retaliation and brought your hand up, only to get it caught by your boyfriend. For the first time, Deku finally saw how tight his grip was when he was mad.

He was sure it was going to leave a bruise on your skin. But he didn’t want to interfere.

When your boyfriend left, he finally revealed himself and comforted you. He told himself he was doing this not because he liked you but because you were his friend. He asked you what the argument was about but you looked up at him and smiled.

There was something weird about your smile, something he couldn’t quite place.

“It’s fine. He broke up with me.” Your smile didn’t match the tone of your cracking voice, and he had to stop himself from tightening his grip on you when you pushed him slightly away and begun walking back home.

He saw the red flowers around you bloom brighter than they ever had before, and he thought if it was a sign from her subconscious asking him to prod further. But he won’t, he can’t.

His rose gaze along with the sweet image he has of your boyfriend prevented him from going further.

After all, he was a hero, he knows best when to prod further. Even if he was biased in the situation.

Deku looked at his phone and found his text messages unanswered and ignored. He had just gotten accepted to UA, he wants to share the news with you.

But you had moved out from your parents’ house to go live alone in a different city with the school of your dreams. He confirmed this by asking your parents, though they did seem slightly worried over you he expected that of such caring parents. He thinks it was just because you were finally living alone.

But he wasn’t sure why there were so many unanswered texts, why you had completely left his life.

He felt his heart crashing into a million pieces.

It took him a rather long time to get over you. An even longer time to forget about the lasting memories of you.

On his daily run in UA just after getting into his 2nd year, on the road, he found a red snapdragon flower. It was radiant and beautiful. For a split second he got reminded of you, and your strange love for red flowers, though he thought it was just due to your unique quirk.

Not wanting to feel any more pain towards the coming memories, he dropped the flower and continued on his jog.

For some reason, he chose the exact same route the next day, this time he found the snapdragon dried and dead. The seed pods in the fallen stem were terrifying. They looked like miniature skulls and he shivered at the thought of something so beautiful being able to die so quickly.

Finally reaching his third year, he readied himself to become a fully-fledged hero as it was just a year away.

He found himself re-living some of his old memories though, Bakugou had asked him to go back to the forest they used to play as a child. It was his way of apologizing to Deku after all the years of torment.

In their path, they found a red camelia tree. The flowers were beautiful and Deku again thought of you.

Just in cue, Bakugou laughed, “Remember when I made Y/n cry because I smashed one?” Deku laughed at the thought but Bakugou grew quiet, “You know, they never respond to my texts ever again. I never told you that, but we stayed close even after I began bullying you. At the time I didn’t see them as a worthless quirkless person like you.”

Deku rolled his eyes, “Thank you Kaachan.” He said rather passive-aggressively.

“No that wasn’t my point, my point is when you told me they disappeared from your life they disappeared from mine as well.”

Deku shook his eyes, forcing the memories back down, “I don’t want to remember it Kaachan, you know I had the biggest crush on them. They must’ve found better people now.”

Deku pushed the memories down and didn’t let them resurface.

After all, if he was to become a hero, he couldn’t have old memories dragging him down. Even if it meant denying he still had feelings for you.

Deku checked his phone repeatedly.

20 unanswered texts, 10 unanswered calls since last week.

Fear bubbled up in his stomach.

What if you decided to leave him behind once again???

What does Deku do when he was stressed?

Drown himself in work.

He opened his laptop and begun reading and replying to hundreds of emails, even reading a lot of spam emails from his admirers. One did catch his eye though.

It was filled with videos. He opened it and from the thumbnails of the videos immediately grew even more panicked.

He clicked on one and watched through it. His eyes widened and fear washed over him like a tide in the sea.

He clicked on another one hoping his hunch wasn’t through.

He clicked on another and another.

He finally accepted it.

All of the videos you sent to him were your recordings of weekly diary entries in the form of video. Each of them you were covered in bruises, tear-stained cheeks, and ragged breathing. Your desperate pleas of not being able to break up with your boyfriend.

He quickly realized your boyfriend was not who he said he was, and that all his actions were just acted. He was a manipulative son of a bitch who trapped you in his spider web. He was the spider stringing a beautiful butterfly in his web. Slowly but surely wrapping you in silk, trapping you, suffocating you.

When he finally finished the last one he quickly ran towards your place. Begging to whatever god there was that you were safe.

“Did you know Izuku?”

Your words in the video echoed in his mind as he ran and ran.

“The flower you gave me were actually Red Spider Lilies.”

He lived rather far away but he couldn’t stop, he won’t.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know what they were nor what they symbolized”

His legs ached and burned but he continued on running.

“They’re symbols of death and moving on, sometimes even reincarnations.”

He finally got to your city and ran to your café, hoping you were there.

“They symbolize the change of seasons from Summer to Fall, truly beautiful flowers.”

When he saw the café closed with neither you nor your boyfriend in sight he continues running to your apartment.

“I never told you this about my quirk, but you know they predict my emotions? I think they can predict my future too.”

He felt like a rabid dog with tears flowing down like waterfalls.

“The spider lilies growing through my subconscious around the café were proof of that theory.”

No, no NO, he won’t let this happen. He won’t let you leave him once again.

He won’t let his rose-tinted gaze show him only your best parts, making him deny all your bad sides all your woes and tears.

He immediately barged into your apartment only to be greeted by the sickeningly sweet smell of flowers.

The room was dark, despite it being 1pm.

He walked slowly through the entrance and found a scatter of red flowers blooming everywhere.

He called your name, no answer.

He screamed for your name, no answer.

But he did get his answer when he arrived at your living room.

The entire room was almost covered from ceiling to the floor with red spider lilies, and the lushest areas where they grew the densest were in the middle of the room.

Deku screamed in agony as he held your hanging body close to his chest.

It wasn’t blood that now stained his fingers nor his clothes. It was the red petals falling down from the ceiling to his hair that taunted him.

It mocked him.

It told him that you gave all the signs, you showed him everything, and yet he was too drugged in the most addictive drug of them all, love, to even notice your hints.

And now he was paying the price.

After all, he was a hero, he needed to be responsible for his actions. Even if it meant finally accepting that you were gone… forever.

#deku angst #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya angst #deku fluff #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #deku x you #izuku midoriya x you #bnha x reader #izuku fanfic #deku fanfiction

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oingo233 · 3 years

Text

Rapture is a Boy (2)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader

Warning: brief talk of weight (as someone who is overweight I would never write anything or imply that being overweight is a bad thing, I know society deems it as less beautiful but the truth is that we are so beautiful, every single one of us despite our weight/size or appearance, we just have a different journey to self-love than those who are conventionally pretty, a much harder path to confidence no doubt, but let me remind you that you are breath taking because most to all of beauty is the uniqueness that one has), some angst sprinkled into this one, get ready for loads of it later, bitches like em’ sad, it’s me, I’m bitches. Also, there are some cuss words, nothing too bad though. Self-doubt, cheating is mentioned.

Authors note: I try to keep my writing(self inserts) gender, body type, ethnicity and house neutral/not specified. If I ever slip up please let me know so that I can change it. Remus’s/3rd POV is italicized, it switches back and forth briefly to better show the relationship and luv. Shit will go down in the next chapter, enjoy the little amounts of fluff and joy in this one while it lasts mwhahaha!

Word Count: 2k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part Two

**** Chocolate Pudding ****

I was distracted in class for the second time this month, all because of Remus Lupin. He plagued my mind, and now Lucy accompanies him even in my thoughts. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions, and I almost never do. But Lily saying I should talk to him, and Lucy running off to comfort Remus when it should have been me, pushed me into a full spring leap. And the conclusion I leapt to was a heartbreaking one, but with all the confidence of the world I believed it. It’s the only thing that makes sense with what I know now. He’s cheating on me.

He told me earlier today, he will be studying in the library with the rest of the marauders before dinner. I will meet and talk to him there, I decided, wringing my fingers and then wiping the sweat off on my robes. Because although yes, I do think he could be cheating on me, I know Remus is a great person. Great people don’t cheat, right?

“Lily, you don’t think he’s cheating do you?” I blurted out, whispering it softly to her through her blockade of dark red hair. She turned to me flabbergasted, her mouth agape to me.

“No,” She says definitely. “Remus is not that person...” There is a silence as I nod blankly at her, I know she is being truthful but she wants to say more. I tug on her robe sleeves, I need to hear what she wants to say but can’t bring myself to ask aloud. What if I don’t like the answer?

“But I think, that ya should talk to him about it. He seems off, no? Maybe it isn’t Lucy at all. You’re jumping to conclusions.” She gives me a pointed look and I nod now in both acceptance and thanks.

“You’re right. I’m being a git.” We both laugh, my mind now eased slightly. We continue to talk amongst ourselves here n there throughout the class. I mentioned James once and she glares at me, but I smile and say,

“Gee Lily, your hair looks awfully bright with that complimentary blush of yours.” She nearly shoves me off my stool. Spending alone time with Lily (despite the large group of students around us) was refreshing, I felt a lot lighter. But the thought of this up coming confrontation with the love of my life once again settled above me like a dark cloud.

It was the last period and it ended minutes ago, I am now making my way up to the library. To Remus. The doors were heavy but glided over the floor as I opened them, the room smelt of old books and dusty pages. I inhaled deeply and smiled to myself, it smells slightly like Remus. Speaking of, his laughter rings out and without a second to waste, Peter, Remus, Sirius and James are shushed aggressively.

I turn around the corner to finally meet them and they’re huddled over some large piece of parchment. Giggling and whispering to themselves, heads nearly clinking together. I clear my throat as so not to intrude. Remus quickly turns to me, his eyes wide in surprise before he stands and hugs me, enclosing my head in his chest.

“(y/n), what a lovely surprise. How was class?” I muffled a hello into his sweater, and can hear shuffling around, from the boys and only when the sound ceased did Remus let go of me. He rubbed his hands down my arms, and smiled warmly down at me. Before I could answer James leans his head in his hand, breathing heavy, he turns to me.

“How’s Lils? Ya have that class with her, right?” I roll my eyes and sit down beside them, Remus stands behind me. The paper is gone but I pay it no mind.

“Yes,” I chuckle to myself, remembering her blush at just the mention of his name. “She’s doing quite well actually. And you boys? Any mischievous plans stuffed up your sleeves? 20, maybe?” They all look at one another and shrug, Peter shook his head yes. Sirius hit his arm and shook his head no, dramatically until Peter followed along. Then the two turn to me and I laugh, not pushing the obvious truth of a scheme from them. They’re sly when they want to be, so this was a definite bashful action. Cheeky.

“Hey love, we’ll meet you down at dinner yeah?” My heart sank for the 2nd, no 3rd time that day. When did Remus get so dismissive? The boys stared up at him a little, mouths agape before they turned to me with soft smiles.

“We’ll miss you dearly until then,” Sirius adds, once again in high spirits.

“Yes, and don’t eat all the pudding in spite.” Peter makes sure to add after last time I did such a thing. It was Peters favorite and he once said I looked bigger when I returned at the train station for the beginning of the year, after the summer of puberty, when really he was just awkwardly talking about how I grew taller and more into myself, good bigger, he thought. But, like anyone with ears I assumed he was calling me fat (fat and all shapes and sizes is beautiful and worthy of love and appreciation, but when someone, such as Peter, implies such a thing to another, in such a way, they could only mean it harmfully so of course I was not going to let that shite slide), so that night I shoveled in all the chocolate pudding before he could get even one bite.

Remus was laughing hysterically with the other boys, as I smirked a blob of pudding fell out between my lips, and Peter looked like he was going to cry. I remember Remus pulled me aside that night to clear up the misunderstanding. He awkwardly confessed it was about my surprising change in appearance, and that I actually look very beautiful. We snogged later that year and the rest is history. (Though the romantic build up was a lot more romantic than just snogging, Remus can be a romantic kind of guy, now was not once of those moments.)

I turn to him.

“Okay. See you then!” I fake the cheeriness in my voice and hope my breath isn’t too shaky as I go and kiss Remus’s cheek. He kisses the very edge of my lips distractedly as I pull away, far from our usual goodbye kisses. I make my way out of the library before stopping in my tracks to yell something over my shoulder.

“The pudding is yours Peter, though it’ll look more appetizing each time you bring that night up,” I expected laughter, or for Peter to say something, anything in response but instead there is silence. I turn around to see the large parchment out again, and the boys huddled over it animatedly.

Thoroughly aggravated, I huff my way down to the dorm and rant to Lily about it all. Then she suggests both the best and the worst idea we, as intellectual, well-put together (well we like to think so) people, have had all day.

“Well, maybe we could throw a little party? Lift your spirits a wee bit, huh love?” Lily suggest, after the fifth time I explain the library scene and how rejected it made me feel. Remus did not want my company, he sat behind my chair and waited until he could ‘politely’ tell me to go, after ignoring me half the day since the incident with Snape.

“And,” she continues, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. “it can be like an impromptu date for Remus and you, if he comes, because of course we’ll invite him-”

“And James,” I smirk, she glares at the way I rudely cut her off but I think she did it more so because of the blush that arose to her cheeks.

“er, sure. But as I was saying, it could be good for you too. I know he hasn’t been spending much time with you lately and everything.” She glances over at a giggling Lucy adorned in red and gold. I scoff bitterly.

“Yeah we haven’t. But ya know what, it’s nothing new innit. He always gets like this.” I stab my dinner with a fork and hear a chuckle coming up from behind me. Peter glances over my shoulder at the chocolate pudding bowl in front of me, seeing as it is still very much full he bows to me and kisses my cheek.

“Thank you, O’ so gracious one,” I can’t fight the laugh, though Remus may upset me, his friends are good blokes that always cheer me up, or at least try too.

The boys all pile in next to us, though it’s been a while since dinner started, they’re a bit late because of whatever they were doing in the library.

Remus saw you and his heart stopped you were, as always breath taking but tonight you looked off, you were stabbing your food with frustration, something must be wrong? You always happily eat your meals, and your laughter is always the first he hears when he walks into the great hall. He watches as Peter makes you laugh, he feels a little off seeing you act this way with Peter. You, lately haven’t been as light hearted around him.

He sits down next to you and is eager to apologize for his behavior earlier. He wanted to take the words back right after his comment. As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough James and the boys ripped into him.

“Bloody hell mate, you might as well demanded she left.” The room was silent as all 4 of them nodded in agreement, Remus included. He sat down and grumbled to himself as they pulled out the marauders map. The very reason he was eager for you to leave, he didn’t want you to see the latest secret of his. Another one of his reasons to be riddled with guilt, he felt so dishonest with you. And he’s been more and more moody with the full moon coming out tonight.

Tonight, as they made their way to the shrieking shack they were going to map it on the marauders map. They were so close to finishing and Remus was eager to, between the map and his soon to be shift he’s had less time to spend with you. Which means less time with your smile, and kisses, and hugs and laughter and bloody hell did he feel like we was going through withdrawal.

But he feels, though the boys disagree, that he should keep his distance from you before full moons. He gets too quite, and angry, and annoyed, he’d hate for you to see this side of him, and all his flaws, and leave him. He wouldn’t survive the pain, he wanted to marry you one day.

“ello’ darling,” Remus whispers into my ear, kissing my cheek. James stares at us before looking lovingly at Lily, who is looking back with raised brows As if to say ‘what now, potter’.

“ello’ darling,” James copies, leaning down to give Lily a kiss on her cheek but she pushes his shoulders back, nonetheless he pulls back with a smile.

“Worth a shot, you’ll miss it one day Evans, once my heart has had enough and I become a reclusive slug,” He says matter-of-factly as he begins to pile food onto his plate.

“I’d act quick Lily, he’s already beginning to look like one.” Sirius leans into to say, though his hair dangles in the pudding making Peter yelp. Remus removes the pudding and adds some to Peters plate.

“You should thank him, grease adds flavor to everything.” Sirius gasps and turns to Remus with slitted eyes. The whole rest of us are laughing, and trying desperately to keep the volume at a minimum as Sirius runs his hand through his hair and tries to rub “the grease” over Remus face.

“If only grease could erase that smirk off your face, mate. I’ll find a way,” Sirius grits as he wrestles Remus who is bumping slightly into me fighting him off. He turns his head during the battle of a lifetime, and apologizes to me for the rough housing, though the look in his eyes seemed like he was sorry for much more. I was taken aback slightly, so I shrug with a loving smile.

Eventually we all finish our dinner and Lily invites the table to our party, all of Gryffindor table actually. Many cheered and said they’d come and bring friends, some even declared to bring butterbeer by the jugfull. But the Marauders just stared at us with a frown.

“We, uh, we can’t make it tonight. Haven’t done enough studying for the exam. I can’t fail this one (y/n), you know that...” Peter trails off and I almost feel bad, maybe the party was a bad idea. The boys all nod along and Lily and I swallow our pride and doubts before telling them it was fine.

Lily holds my arm as we walk back.

“They’re just studying, nothing else to it.” But we both saw the way Lucy stuck behind as well.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess

#young remus imagine #remus lupin #young remus lupin #young marauders #the marauders #harry potter imagines #harry potter #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #neutral reader #angst #remus angst #hogwarts #love #Teen Romance #werewolves #young remus x reader

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flowesona · 4 years

Text

Judgement - Yandere! Taehyung x reader

The Tarot Series

“You’re not mad?” Jimin was doubled over in shock, barely able to stay in his seat.

“I mean… I just want the best for you. But he’s such an obsessive person, and a complete control freak. I don’t think you deserve that.”

“He’s not like that! Well, not any more, maybe.” (Y/N) read her friend’s face. Nothing but pure earnestness, truly believing that Kim Taehyung was a good person.

“Did you want a refill?” Before she could say another word, Jimin was standing up with their coffee cups in his hands.

(Y/N) nodded dumbly. Her mind was plagued by the thought of her ex-boyfriend edging his way into her friend’s life to destroy it.

The last time she’d seen Taehyung, he’d sworn she’d never find anyone like him. If she did, he would slit their throat, he would pull out their teeth. Anything to make his “imposter” pay. The idea that the same person who’d made such violent threats had now happily moved on was a jarring idea, but one that soothed (Y/N). Now they could both live their lives for the better.

The smooth clunk of the cup onto the table awoke (Y/N) from her daydream, as she thanked her friend and blew on her beverage to cool it down.

As they drank their newly refreshed coffees and discussed trivial TV programs, all the tension seeped out of (Y/N) body. Finally, she felt like life was in order, and she could move on.

The friendly conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone unlocked the door, shuffling in and removing their shoes.

“Tae? You’re home!” Jimin broke out into a grin seeing his boyfriend, clambering over the couch to greet him.

His hair was longer now, (Y/N) observed. His style was different, his skin had some ethereal glow to it. For a second she was worried she could fall in love with him again, only to see him give Jimin a peck on the cheek as he removed his jacket. Taehyung didn’t even look at her as he tossed his jacket aside, those deep, mysterious eyes that had once been fixed on (Y/N) were now focused on Jimin.

“Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you.” Jimin beamed, giving Taehyung’s cheek a playful pinch.

“All good things, I hope?” He replied, settling down on the sofa besides (Y/N). She flinched slightly, wanting to shuffle away. Despite all of Jimin's assurances, she was still haunted by their last interaction.

“I was just telling her how you’ve changed. You’re a new man, and I hope you two can be good friends from now on.” Jimin gave them his best puppy dog eyes. “You’ll at least try? For me?”

(Y/N) nodded, still watching Taehyung from the corner of her eye. He met her gaze, but there was a new warmth to his eyes as if he’d found serenity. The look that made her want to forgive him so badly.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Not even her handheld fan to cool (Y/N) down from the intense summer heat was enough, as she furiously checked her watch. Jimin was late, and the movie was going to start in ten minutes. There was no way they’d have time to pay for tickets and snacks in time to be in their seats when the film starts.

“Sorry I’m late!” Suddenly, Jimin was in her line of sight, tugging some unexpected baggage with him.

“Tae wanted to come. I hope that’s okay?”

“Sure…” (Y/N) was too preoccupied to even acknowledge his presence as she led the couple into the cinema, almost groaning aloud when she saw the small queue.

Luckily, Jimin was pleasant company as always, chatting to (Y/N) excitedly about the movie.

“What kind of name is Wachowski anyway? I’d put money on him being the secret villain or something.” As they were called to the front of the queue, Jimin suddenly flushed pink.

“(Y/N), can you buy these for me? I really need the toilet before it starts! I’ll pay you back, I swear.” Before she even had the chance to object he’d left, leaving his friend and boyfriend behind.

“Three tickets for the two-thirty showing, please.” Taehyung didn’t say anything, just observing as (Y/N) ordered flawlessly, reeling off her and Jimin’s traditional assortment of snacks for cinema trips. But when it came time to pay, before (Y/N) could get her card out of her wallet he was already inserting his into the reader without a word.

“Taehyung, you didn’t have to-” He placed a finger on her lips, giving her a soft smile that made her heart melt.

“My treat.”

He picked up Jimin’s confectionery and followed (Y/N) as they navigated towards their screen, finding Jimin right outside. The grin that erupted onto Jimin’s face, as if he was being given the world, was a sight to see.

His best friend and his boyfriend were with him, giving him everything he could possibly want. (Y/N) couldn’t possibly bear to break his heart, and swallowed all objections to Taehyung’s presence. She could be optimistic for Jimin’s sake, to give him the fulfilment that he deserved. Perhaps Taehyung had learned he was better without her. Even if now, (Y/N) had started to want him back.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

“(Y/N)! Open the door! Please, (Y/N)! We need to talk!” The sobs of Jimin accompanied by the banging on her door were enough to warrant (Y/N) removing her headphones and going to greet him, despite it being dark outside and herself being ready for an evening of watching netflix alone with a bowl of store-bought gnocchi.

Jimin didn’t even hesitate pushing past her into her apartment.

He was an absolute mess. His hair was sticking up, his nose and eyes were red and puffy, and his whole body was trembling intensely.

“You were right. He’s a maniac.” Jimin managed to say shakily.

“Did you guys have an argument? You can stay at mine for the-”

“He’s insane!” Jimin cut her off. “I-I-I was at his place, and I wanted one of his shirts to stay warm. B-B-But then I found this in his drawer.”

He dug into his pocket to pull out a pair of lacy black panties.

“At first I thought he was cheating on me, and that was enough to make me want to kill him. But then I realised.” He pushed the undergarments into her hands, a fresh wave of anguish taking over.

“These are yours, (Y/N). I remember, we picked them out for your first date with him. Look, there’s a tear in them, because we got them discounted?” The young woman was frozen with horror as Jimin continued. “So I confronted him. He said there was no point in acting anymore. He never gave a shit about me, and only used me to get closer to you again. He used my feelings so that you would forgive him for the sake of our friendship, and as soon as you two were well acquainted enough he’d discard me so that you two could date again.”

“Oh, Jimin, I’m so sorry.” (Y/N) pulled her friend into a tight hug, letting his tears wet her hair as heavy sobs wracked his body.

“I-I’m the one who’s sorry. I ignored your warning, and I let him back into your life stupidly thinking he was a new man.” He wailed.

(Y/N)’s attempts of comforting him were suddenly interrupted as she heard a tame knocking at the door.

“It’s him, it’s him. It’s got to be. (Y/N), what are we going to do?” Jimin whimpered.

“He can’t do anything, right? If he tries to break in or something, we can call the police.” (Y/N) whispered back. For a few seconds, there was silence. Then the door swung open, Taehyung strolling in casually. From the charm on the set of keys in his hand, (Y/N) knew it was Jimin’s spare set, and cursed the man internally as she held him closer.

“Jimin, you were the perfect boyfriend. Always letting me see your location on snapchat, letting me know where you keep your spare keys, not calling the police when things get a bit out of hand.” Taehyung cooed, striding towards them. “But I think our relationship is over now.”

“Get out of my home, psycho.” (Y/N) hissed, still clinging to Jimin.

“Come on, (Y/N), you should have known. After all, I told you I could never stop loving you until the day I die.” Taehyung had a familiar simper on his face, the exact expression he’d had when she’d broken up with him and he’d promised she would be back in his arms in a year.

“You’re a monster. You played with Jimin’s feelings just so you could be back in my life. And for what? To control me again, to make me your puppet again?” She snarled, her fingers slightly digging into Jimin out of pure anger.

“For you, my love. You can call me whatever you want, you can despise me from the bottom of your heart. But I will not stop until you are mine again, no matter what.”

“Go fuck yourself, bastard.” Jimin finally spoke up, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Jimin. You’ve been useful to me, but now that time is over. I think you should leave me and (Y/N) alone now.” Taehyung purred, one hand dipping into his jacket pocket.

Jimin shook his head, pushing (Y/N) behind him.

“You were good to me, Jimin. Don’t be a thorn in my side now.” Taehyung growled, but the older man refused to back down.

“Well then.” Taehyung drew a gun from his pocket. “I’ll have to get rid of you.”

Jimin was visibly shaking with fear, but he didn’t budge an inch.

“(Y/N), get out of here now.” He said, managing to keep down the tremble in his voice.

“I can’t.” She tried to suppress her overwhelming dread as she spoke. “What do you want, Taehyung?”

As Jimin was about to protest for his friend’s sake, Taehyung cocked the gun to silence him.

“This is why you’re perfect, my love. Always so kind to your friends.” He held out his hand to her. “We should get sushi tonight, we haven’t had a proper date in a while. Come on.”

When (Y/N) placed her hand in his, giving one last longing look at Jimin to beg for his safety, she was spooked by how familiar his touch was. Taehyung wasn’t a new man, he couldn’t change after all. For (Y/N), his obsessive love was everlasting.

#yandere kpop #yandere bts #kpop yandere #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere x reader #yandere bts au #bts #yandere au #yandere #taehyung x reader #bts v #yandere v #v x reader #yandere v x reader #yandere kim taehyung x reader #yandere kim taehyung #the tarot series

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millllenniawrites · 3 years

Text

fun in the meantime (FO! Poe Dameron x f!OC)

part two of when the stars miss the sun

written with @vampirewithbedsidemanners

words: 2.4k

warnings: dark!ooc!Poe Dameron (if you want specifics, dm me); smut (rough sex, slight dubcon moment, praise, 'good girl' used); prostitution; established relationship (sort of); slow burn (yes the two can coexist leave me alone); redemption arc; Pixar ending; murder; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: i love this story and im so excited to share it with you guys. this one is as cute and soft as it gets before everything gets very very dark (though please do heed the warnings cause it isn't just happy times)

Red woke up alone in sheets that still felt warm and soft like his satin skin. Her Admiral… not that she could let him know how ingrained in her mind he had become over the last three years. Just like every time before, he left her with the taste of him lingering on the edges of her senses, keeping her from the biting, harsh reality of the universe they lived in.

The house was beautiful and grand without being over the top, just as out of place as he was in everything. He’d told her the night before that the house was the only thing he had to his name outside of the Order. She believed it. There was something to him that made her believe that there really wasn't anything else out there for her beautiful, lost man.

She left the safety of his bed, padding across the warm floors and out into the hallway that fed a large central spiral staircase. It extended down all five stories to the basement, where they’d dragged out boxes of files the night before prior to shutting themselves in his office to work.

She hadn’t had the chance to see enough of the beautiful house. Later, when she had a moment, she would explore the place that seemed to be an extension of her Admiral. She would let her hands roam over the banisters, the same way they had caressed across the banded muscles in his thighs as she rode him, giving over her body and heart and soul before she realized that she was.

Red crept silently down his stairs. She followed the sound of fingers on a screen to his office, where they'd spent much of the night before. His uniform jacket was still in a ball on the ground where she'd tossed it after ripping it off him. The papers he'd swept off his desk to make room to lay her on it were still scattered all over the room.

Poe was sat at his desk, hair mussed from sleep. The collar of his threadbare shirt was stretched out, and he played with the edge of it as he studied whatever was on the screen in front of him.

Nothing about him appeared like he was a feared Admiral of the First Order.

When he finally noticed her standing in the doorway, he smiled softly. "Did you sleep okay?"

She padded over to him, easing down into his lap. Something about him put her at ease, when everything about him should have sent her running. Quietly, she threaded her fingers through his hair, tilting his head back so she could gaze into his eyes. “I missed you.” Her admission was quiet, timid, sweet... with no hint of the deadly resistance intel Captain that was actually sitting in his lap.

“Just thought I’d get a head start this morning ‘nd let you sleep.” He’d snuck out of bed before the sun had risen, intending to finish up the packaging of intel that he’d neglected the night before before returning to her. If he had the restraint to resist her, he may have finished the work, but he couldn’t deny himself the little temptations that made him feel alive.

Time had gotten away from him in the early morning hours, as it tended to do.

There was so much more to the war now, and he was no longer the young, energetic try-hard Captain, campaigning for what he believed in no matter the cost.

Things were complicated.

“Come back to bed?” She asked, brushing her lips against his in a soft kiss.

He melted into her touch, softer than he should have been. She could ask him for anything when he was like this, his vulnerable soul left barren for her. “Shouldn’t we finish up?” He murmured, a half-hearted attempt to retain control over himself that he no longer had.

“We should.” She sighed, shifting so she could straddle him. “But I only get you like this for a little longer. That uniform has to go back on eventually.”

“It’s just a uniform.”

“A uniform that keeps me from you.” She kissed his neck as her hands slid under his shirt. Every word fell from her lips like a quiet admission she wasn’t sure she could say, or mean. Not without wrecking everything between them.

“We’ll blow it all to hell. Just need a little more time...”

“I need you.” Her whimpers called him home, her deft fingers tracing his abs under his shirt and bringing the forbidden temptation of her skin flush to his. Her lips on his neck and jaw stole his breath, chasing all thoughts from his mind. “Just a little bit. I’m not ready to give you back.”

“You’re coming with me. You don’t have to. You don’t have to give me back.” His voice was breathy, betraying how touch-starved he truly was.

She kissed him to silence the whimper on his lips, tangling around him. “You don’t belong in the Order.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” She tugged him close. “I do, baby.”

Something changed in his eyes as the words left her lips, his vulnerability swallowed in something darker, clamouring for control. He gripped her hair, tilting her head back and kissing down her neck, rough and forceful. He needed it the way he needed air in his lungs. The wall he erected around his delicate heart shattered in her presence, and he couldn’t afford it. Not now.

He carried her up the stairs, distracting her with kisses and tearing through the thin clothing on her body. There was nothing gentle about it. Gentle sex gave her the space to break down his walls. Gripping her thighs, he flipped her over and pinned her down, lips at her ears.

“I need you loud for me, honey.” He growled, pulling her hips up into his lap and spreading her pulsing center open to make space for him.

“Poe!” She cried out, forgetting what they were for a moment. All that mattered were his callous-rough hands on her skin and the musk of his breath on her neck. He slid in all the way, not needing to get her ready for him, fucking her in the brutal but sweet way that made the room spin.

He lost himself in her moans, the way she thrashed in his arms as she neared the edge. He almost couldn’t hear her pleas for a break over the sound of her begging for more.

“That’s a good girl.” He murmured, too soft for what they were now, his praise painting her lips.

“Your... your good girl.” she gasped, “I’m yours.”

Red fell back into his arms in the bed, still giggling from the accidental tickles. Twisting so she could see his face, she relaxed, bitting her bottom lip. “Civilian life looks good on you.”

"Y'think so?" He gazed down at her. "This is the first time I've given it a try."

“Lucky me.” She grinned, wrapping her arms around him.

"I think I'd wanna be somewhere warmer. Salient has too much winter." He pulled the blankets up over them both before letting her curl up in his arms.

“Ever been to the old capital?” She hummed, drawing on his chest.

"I haven't been to any of them.” And he wouldn’t have the chance to visit one of them now that the Order had destroyed Hosnian.

“Chandrila is like a never ending summer. If this war leaves it untouched, maybe we can go after it all. Just us.”

"You don't wanna be seen with me." The thought of it was so absurd he snorted. He’d been in enough of the propaganda the Order put out that there would never be peace for him.

“No one has to see us. We can take a boat out to the islands and go swimming and fuck and lay out in the sun.”

She could see it. The warm Chandrilan sun on his tan skin, lighting his eyes. His curls in between her fingers and his lips between her legs. Them, laid out in the open, a far cry from the corners they’d been hiding in for three years.

Poe couldn’t help but indulge her. "We wouldn't even need to bring clothes."

“I think clothes on you should be illegal.” She giggled, scooting over onto his chest and straddling his hips.

"Yeah? I don't think that's part of Pryde's plan. You're welcome to talk to him about it when we transfer, though."

“When I’m done with him, it’ll be his first priority.” She grinned mischievously.

He couldn’t help but melt at how sweet she was. “He would be scared of you, if he saw who you really are."

Her smile softened as she eased down into his arms. She knew he meant it as a compliment, but she couldn’t help but worry. Why she gave a shit what he thought of her, she didn’t know. If it was going to wreck the mission, it would have by now. “Do I scare you?” She asked, her gaze as intense as the pounding of her heart in her chest.

"Yeah," he said softly. "But that's a good thing, right? You're supposed to keep your informants in line?"

“Are you still an informant? I thought we were friends.”

“We are. But you’re here to take down the Order. Same as me.” He poked her forehead. “Agent.” He poked himself in the chest. “Informant.”

She copied him, jabbing him in the chest. “Poe, Red. And right now, we’re just two very hot people in bed together. Naked. Enjoying life.”

“It’d be kinda sexy to call you Agent in bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Anything as long as you don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She punched his shoulder lightly. “Poe!”

“Why don’t you like that one? Bad boyfriend?”

“It makes me feel like my mom.” She made a face like she was grossed out by the thought, warm love for her mother radiating through it.

“Gotcha.” He kissed her lightly. “Your whole ‘young and innocent and beautiful’ look doesn’t exactly give off mom-vibes.”

She pouted. “I think I’d make a beautiful mom.”

He smoothed the wrinkle in her brow with his thumb. “You would. Of course you would. I just meant that you wouldn’t attract clients with Mommy kinks.”

She scrunched her nose. “Not mommy kinks. Breeding kinks though. I don’t mind those.”

He was quiet as he thought about it. “I don’t know if that’s my style. It seems pretty... close. Intimate.” He coughed, like that could make him feel less exposed. “I’m never gonna settle down with anyone so I don’t think I’d be able to handle taunting myself with that, y’know?”

She held his face, bringing herself as close as she could to him. “I’m not either. So maybe we can with each other. Right at the end. That’d be one hell of a way to go out.”

This was her job. Her role, for the Resistance. She had to make him comfortable and keep loyal and Poe understood that. But he had no reason to betray her. There was no risk in buying in. In letting her do what she had to. “It would be.”

The bed was more enticing than the rest of the house — or the rest of the universe — as far as they were concerned. A droid rolled in about an hour later, bringing foods that neither of them would see again once they left their little sliver of civilian life.

He drank caf, with milk in it if that was an option. He liked his eggs cooked through and spice with his dinner. Everything was appetizing to him as long as it wasn’t slimy. The more they rolled around and talked and fucked and snacked, the more human he seemed to her. The war was worlds away, set in another time and another life where her and her Admiral were just simple people living simple lives.

He knew what she was doing. The questions she asked and information she gathered, just set her up to move around him as seamlessly as the air he breathed. When they got where they were going.

If.

Her laughter made him dream of quiet afternoons just like this, with a beautiful girl in his bed. Endless summers in her eyes. With her, he almost didn’t need the Chandrila sun.

“How often do you make it out here?” She asked casually, eating a piece of fruit while sprawled out on his bed, her eyes on his bare ass.

“Not often. Less since my promotion. It’s pretty nice though, hey?” He noticed her gaze and tossed a clean sock at her.

“Great view. I could stay here forever.” She grinned, spinning her finger in the air at himself. “Nope. Turn back around.”

Poe twirled around, showing off like he had a part time job at a strip club. He moved from the hips, putting on a show until he caught her eyes.

It was too vulnerable. All of it.

He pulled a face, sticking his ass out and wiggling his hips.

She tossed the sock, hitting him in the ass. “You’re lucky you’re hot.” She giggled, reaching out for him. “Come back to bed. I won’t get to lay around and fuck you all the time when we get back to your ship.”

“It’s not mine. I’m only an Admiral.” He crawled up the bed to her, slotting himself between her thighs. “But I’ll take advantage of this while I have it.” He gripped her hair in his fist, tilting her head back to expose her throat. His gaze trailed down her as he murmured, “So pretty...”

She growled, flipping him over and devouring him. There was something in the way he held her, kissed her, that told her she could ask anything of him and he would. For her, or the resistance, she didn’t care. As long as he was on the right side of the war.

His words echoed back in her head like a problem she had to solve. The ship wasn’t his.

She could fix that.

#fo!poe dameron #first order poe dameron #fo!poe #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x oc

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