#me thinking as best friend keeps talking about crumple zones: .........but they have such personality.............so boxy........ :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

Guided

Okay I’m posting on mobile so bear with me

Was gonna do a thanksgiving feeder fic but I’m tired lol

So instead like imagine Kuroo helping Kenma lose his virginity 😳

(Warnings - NSFW! Rape, obvious denial (by Kenma, he knows it’s bad), Kuroo bein a creep, Kenma being a creep. Just general not good vibes)

Like Kenma isn’t exactly anti-social, it’s just he’s a lil shy and prefers to stay in his comfort zone, which involves gaming and little else.

One day the team will not stop bugging leetle Virgin Kenma about getting a girlfriend (“online girlfriends don’t count!”), and he gets a bit self conscious.

Goes to Kuroo, his best friend, his bro, his homie, asks Kuroo what’s the process - how does he get a girlfriend and lose his virginity?

Kuroo is almost taken aback at first, simply cause he assumed Kenma was either gay or just plain not into dating. But after he gets over his shock, he’s so pumped to show his bro the ropes.

Kenna’s expecting like, a talk, or maybe Kuroo will give him tips about how to pick up cute girls, or something like that.

What he was not expecting, was you.

Sitting on the edge of Kuroo’s bed, sniffling, hands balled into fists on top of your skirt.

And Kuroo’s so excited, quickly ushering Kenma into his room to proudly show off his cute little neighbor. You don’t seem happy, but Kuroo ignores that, so Kenma does too.

There’d be no buildup. Just Kuroo pushing Kenma towards you, before taking a seat in his desk chair.

“Go ahead and touch her.” He prompts.

Kenma hesitates, looking at Kuroo with knitted brows.

“Do you not know how?”

Kenma shrugs. He stands in front of you, raises a hand to your shoulder. You flinch when he touches your shirt, when the weight of his hand rests against you. He plays with a piece of your hair, looking at your face, your body, the cute way you’re trembling and shaking like a scared little kid.

“I’ll talk you through it.” Kuroo offers. He’s clearly impatient, but in an excited way, foot tapping against the ground as he leans forward.

Kenma’s glad Kuroo will be giving instructions. He feels a bit awkward like this, and he doesn’t want you to laugh at him.

“You’re sure she’s fine?” Kenma checks. You look scared and you’re crying a bit, which is kinda hot, but Kenma doesn’t want you telling people he assaulted you or something.

“Yeah, she’ll be alright. We had a little chat before you came over - she’s good with this.”

The way you glare at Kuroo through your tears confirms to Kenma that you probably aren’t as okay with this as Kuroo makes it seem. But Kenma kind of doesn’t care, because he’s chubbing up in his pants as he thinks about what’s about to happen.

“Alright, (Y/N), scoot back on the bed so Kenma can sit.”

You promptly obey, and Kenma slides onto the bed in front of you, following Kuroo’s implied suggestion.

“You should always give ‘em a kiss first. You can use tongue if you want, don’t be afraid to really get into it.” Kuroo continues.

Kenma shuffles closer, gingerly grabs your shoulders. He’s starts out with a peck to your lips, the stereotypical sound of kissing is made as he does so.

Kuroo encourages him to do it again, this time for longer.

Kenma indulges, lets himself linger over your lips. He can taste your chapstick, and it’s not unpleasant. Your lips are soft, and your warm, and Kenma quickly decides he likes kissing.

Then Kuroo tells him to use tongue, which Kenma does, and the younger man cringes at the feeling. He doesn’t like using tongue.

But he enjoys kissing, so he goes back to that, almost sucking at your lips, pressing himself close to you. It’s intimate, and it’s kind of exciting, and Kenma finds himself wanting more.

“You can use your hands y’know. Feel her tits, they look nice.”

Kenma does exactly that, and you squeak into his mouth when his hands grab at your chest. Admittedly, he’s probably a bit too excited, cause the second he feels soft flesh under his hands he’s pinching and groping and pulling, and you’re making pained little noises that Kenma discovers he likes.

Kuroo chuckles. “Damn, you’re going pretty hard there. Didn’t take you for a sadist. You can touch other places too, by the way. Anywhere you want.”

Anywhere?

Kenma pulls back from the kiss, his hands abandoning your breasts to roam over your sides, feel the curve of your waist, circle around to palm at your ass. He’s never touched a girl like this, it’s so different from what he knows of his own body.

That goes on for a little bit longer, but Kuroo’s quickly moving him along.

“Okay, you can lay her onto her back now... or I guess you could go doggystyle.” The older man leans back in his chair. “It’s up to you.”

“Okay.” Kenma breathes. He’s fully hard now, and it’s a bit uncomfortable, his cock tenting his pants like that. But he doesn’t know if now was the right time to undress, so he just does what Kuroo says.

He pushes you to lay down on your back - he wants to see your face. It’s a bit puffy and red from the crying, but it makes you look pretty. Plus, Kenma likes your eyes.

He looks over to Kuroo for what he should do next.

“She’s not wearing anything underneath the skirt.” Kuroo grins, and he looks so utterly pleased with himself, but Kenma doesn’t even register that because he’s flipping up your skirt to see for himself.

And fuck, you really aren’t.

He’s seen porn, he knows what he expected to find. But it’s so different in person. He wants to touch, to feel, so he does. Kenma grabs one of your legs, carefully pulling it to the side so he can see a bit more, and you let him, thigh muscles clenching.

Then he’s running a single finger over your folds and holy shit, you’re so warm and pink and his cock is throbbing and he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait.

“You can take your dick out now. She’s all prepped and stuff, so just go for it.”

Kenma pushes his sweatpants just far down enough that his dick can spring free - Kuroo knows how he is about his body, and Kenma doubts you’ll say anything because you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

It’s a new experience, so it takes him a second to figure out that he has to part your folds with one hand, guide his dripping cock to your home with the other. You keep... fluttering down there and it’s driving him crazy, he can’t even imagine what that’s going to feel like

The second he pushes inside (you’re all wet and hot and tight and - oh you feel so good) he can’t stop the embarrassing noise the tumbles out of his mouth. His cheeks color red, but Kuroo’s quick to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, keep making noise - girls like hearing that you’re feeling good. And you can talk to her you know.”

“You’re-you’re cute.” Kenma blurts, voice shaky. He’s too overwhelmed to do much, he can hardly breathe right now, he can’t think.

“.... how does it feel?” Kuroo prods.

Kenma has to take a second to calm himself before stuttering out “G-good. Really good.”

He was barely a third of the way in, and the way your walls were pulsing around him, sucking him in, trying to milk him was almost too much. He groaned, hands coming to grip your hips, push your legs up and out of the way.

“Kuroo, it feels so good, she’s so tight. H-holy fuck, oh god, this is-“

Kenma gave a little thrust, and whined, almost crumpling over top of you, panting.

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” Kuroo reminds him, and Kenma huffs.

He’s right next to your face like this, and so he moves just a little bit so he can kiss you again. You don’t do much, but Kenma doesn’t know if you’re supposed to. He just hopes that he’s doing an okay job. Maybe you’re a virgin like him, and don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like? Kuroo would be considerate like that, take into account Kenma’s insecurities.

“Yeah, there you go. Move your hips a little.”

Kenma does, gives a few tiny, explorative thrusts. Then a few more, a bit more confident this time. And then he keeps going, and he finds his cock rutting into you steadily, and he doesn’t know how else to describe it other than it feels fucking divine.

He breaks from the kiss with a low moan, looks at your eyes. You’re crying again, cheeks red, avoiding his gaze. That’s okay. Kenma knows eye contact is hard.

Faintly, he registers the sound of Kuroo’s heavy panting, the low curses coming from where his best friend is sitting. He can’t focus on that though, not when his system is short circuiting.

It’s too much stimulation, and his dick has never been this wet and warm and massages like this before, and then Kuroo’s telling him to pull out and jack off over your face, or your skirt, or wherever, and Kenma doesn’t want to because you keep sucking him in hungrily.

But he knows in the back of his mind that pregnancy is a thing, and he’s not thinking straight, wanting to stay inside you forever. That’s why Kuroo’s here, to tell him what to do.

So Kenma pulls out, whimpering at the temperature difference his cock encounters. He’s so sensitive and keyed up that it barely takes a stroke or two (holy shit, your cream is all over his cock and it’s so wet and he’s going to die of pleasure, fuck) before he’s cumming hard.

He hadn’t moved, so his cum shoots onto your skirt, some of it falling onto your bare skin at your hips.

Kenma finishes, and he doesn’t know what to do. Seconds pass, and his breathing evens out, and he can think again. The younger man pats your cheek softly. “Thank you, you uh, did good. Felt nice.”

Kuroo snorts.

Kenma’s incredibly thirsty, and his dick is still out, and he wants to clean it off.

“You have tissues?”

Kuroo scrambles out of the chair, digs in his bedside drawer before a travel size packet of tissues thumps into Kenma’s lap.

“I’ll go get you some water.” He offers. “You did good sweet cheeks, knew you would.” He tells you, before exiting the room.

Kenma clumsily cleans himself off, then tries to wipe his cum out of your skirt. That’s pretty much hopeless, so he quickly gives up. He notices the slick shining over your folds, so he holds up a tissue.

“Do you uh, want me to-“

“Please stop.”

You’re barely loud enough for Kenma to hear. The man shrugs, before tucking his cock back into his sweatpants, pulling them so they’re snug against his hips again.

He clambers off the bed to throw the tissues away, gets met at the door by Kuroo, who’s holding a cup of water.

“So? You feel like a man now?”

Kenma gives a lopsided grin. He feels proud - the other guys can’t tease him about this anymore, he’s fucked a girl.

Kuroo pats him on the shoulder, before handing over the cup of water. “Hell yeah man! Here, I’ll go finish our girl off.”

Finish her off?

Kuroo catches Kenma’s confused look, and he does his best not to chuckle, but Kenma’s known him long enough that he can’t hide his laughter like that.

“She didn’t cum.” Kuroo offers. “Not your fault, it takes a bit more practice. But hey, you can watch how I do it, yeah? Pick up some technique for next time.”

A quick glance to the bed shows you’ve barely moved, just curled up on your side, arms wrapped around your chest.

“Oh, okay.”

Kenma sits in Kuroo’s desk chair, takes a sip of water while he watches Kuroo unbuckle his belt.

He feels good.

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kenma #nasty kenma #nasty kuroo #idk tags lol #yandere thoughts #yandere imagines #tw noncon #dead dove #haikyuu smut #kenma x you #kuroo x y/n #kenma x kuroo #but only kind of #kenma x y/n

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damedamedame · 3 years

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Hi hi! Can I have a scenario/oneshot where Teru has an admirer that really loves him and he pretty much hates them? He doesn't know why but he hates them so much for things his fangirls does yet he doesn't hate his fangirls. She gets heart broken after he rejects her and over time falls for Kou. Teru realizes he really like her but cant take it back cuz Kou also really likes her too and Teru would never hurt his brother like that. So now he has to watch his brother date the love of his life. :D

TERU MINAMOTO X READER - ONESHOT

- “Too late.”

WARNINGS: angst enough to make a simp weak me

NOTES: my heart hurts and this is why it took 2+ months to write this thank u (also kinda tweaked it a bit, hope you don’t mind!)

( unedited + fem ! reader )

Was there a lifetime waiting for us in a world when I was yours?

At least, those are the god-forsaken words Teru murmurs in the deepest depths of his mind, tired eyes piercing at both you and Kou through the glass of champagne that he’s had far too many of. The married couple, he won’t ever admit how bitter he feels when the two words rolls off the tip of his tongue, were laughing, fingers intertwined as the rest of the people in the venue smiled at how gorgeous and how... happy you two looked.

He zones out a second after, the composed self he’s managed to keep throughout the wedding was irritably divided into immensely vexing thoughts that have haunted him since the first time he’d accidentally walked into the first time Kou had the nerve the courage to kiss you.

‘Would she have been better off with me instead of him?’

God.., he hasn’t been this infuriated over you since he was once a high-schooler, since he’d been the ‘School Prince’ and the person that you’d been so overly head-over-heels for. Except these infuriating problems about you that have been clouding his mind for what seemed like an eternity were conflicting now. Before, the sight of your face, the smile etched on your lips, the warm pink hue spread upon your cheeks...

He hated every single one of it.

You were only a naïve fan of his, a part of the majority who offered him utmost praise and raced to be the one sitting by his side. However, unlike all his other fans, you were the only one who affected him in this way.

The only one to make his heart pang when you’d mention his name.

The only one to stop him from sleeping due to the overdriven thoughts he had of you.

The only one who’d get his attention when his wandering eyes unconsciously scan the classroom.

He wanted to stop this. He wanted the feelings in the pit of his stomach to stop because he didn’t want this, he’s never wanted this to happen... but there it was.

In the form of you, holding a simple love letter in your hands and your face a blushing mess. Teru looks at you for a minute before turning you down. It’s a harsher let-down than his usual ones, he remembers the words ‘I’ve never thought of you that way’ and ‘I never will like you, (Y/N).’ coming out from his mouth, all blatant lies, of course.

You ran away after that, hands clutching onto the same love letter you held, now crumpled. Guilt filled him up completely once he’d seen you crying your eyes out, but rejecting you was the best decision he could make if he wanted to get rid of aching feelings for you.

That’s what he thought, a lifetime long ago.

Now you were here in a white wedding gown, now a new addition to the Minamoto household, but not with him. You opted for his little brother instead, Kou having lent a comforting hand after seeing you just sobbing away in the back of the school’s gymnasium.

Teru watched it the love story between you and Kou, smile evident on his face as he tries to ignore how empty he feels. If it were someone else, if it were anyone else but you, he would have been the happiest brother alive. He wouldn’t be smiling too widely in the wedding pictures, and he wouldn’t have been drinking three glasses of champagne as he watches you both on the dance floor.

But, God, all he could imagine was the ‘What if’s’.

If he had let down his worthless pride, give you the chance of happiness you dreamed of, and accepted the feelings that had been brewing within him... could he have had this?

‘There’s no use dwelling on the issue now’, Teru gives the smallest of frowns, but brightens up when he saw Kou walking towards him.

“Kou? Why aren’t you with your blushing bride?” Could you have been his blushing bride?

“Don’t worry, Teru-nii, she’s still talking with her friend... and...”

Teru’s guilt tips over at the simple words.

“I’m really happy to have you as my big brother and at our wedding!”

Kou’s smiling, so genuinely and so sweetly, but he doesn’t see how his own big brother is nearly tearing up. ‘Not today.’ Teru thinks to himself, standing up and patting Kou on the back with a quick and muttered, “Thank you.” before leaving to go to the bathroom.

He notices you glance at him, eyes twinkling with the happiness that he now realizes he wanted to give to you, and he can’t help but walk faster.

Yeah, he’s not going over to Kou’s for a long, long while.

END NOTES: it’s 1:06 am and i’m crying over teru minamoto good nyt

i should really start listing down names for the taglist : @YAKO IK YOU’RE THERE SOMEWHERE COME GET UR TEA *cough* @moryi @tokoyamis-luv @akaneaoisartblog @astrxrism

#tbhk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #teru minamoto x reader #teru minamoto #kou minamoto x reader #kou minamoto #tbhk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #i'm cryin in the club #angsty angsty

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fallingforyou123 · 3 years

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Cupcakes and Therapy-Meeting

A/N: I'm so sorry this is late, I had it queued up for the wrong day, but it's finally here. This is just the first part, I plan on continuing this with little blurbs after. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.15k

Warnings: Some language, a panic attack and talks of panic attacks, falcon and the winter soldier spoilers

He woke up in a cold sweat, the last of his nightmare still fresh on his mind. For the third time that night he’d been jolted awake, the idea of sleep slowly slipping away. The sun was just starting to rise, a few rays slipping through the cracks in the blinds. He hadn’t slept through the night since his time in Wakanda. After Steve left him and the fighting stopped, there was nothing keeping his mind occupied anymore.

Slowly, he rose from his makeshift bed on the floor, every inch of his body aching from lack of sleep. He made his way over to the window, looking out at the street below. A new hobby he’d found was people watching, as creepy as it is for an ex-assassin to do, but it calmed him. It brought him back to reality when he felt like he was slipping into a dark place.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s stood there until Alpine starts rubbing up against his leg, meowing loudly. Alpine never fails to remind him just how utterly starving he is after sleeping for 22 hours a day. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen to fill his bowl, making note of all the things he’s running out of, a trip to the market after therapy becoming his plans for the day.

He throws a jacket on over his t-shirt and slips on a pair of gloves before leaving the apartment and making his way to the small coffee shop just around the corner. His routine had started consisting of coming here at ungodly hours of the morning for breakfast before making his way to his weekly therapy sessions.

He walked in and sat at his usual table, the barista on shift coming over with his usual coffee and muffin. Bucky hands her a crumpled 5 with a small smile, before grabbing a newspaper. He doesn’t really read it, he’s not one for politics before noon, but he does it to keep him occupied. It also helps to make it not look like he’s scoping the place out when he sits there for hours a day.

He sits there sipping his coffee and nibbling on his muffin, still too shaken from his nightmare to stomach much. He looks up from the newspaper every now and then to watch the people around him. Sunday mornings make the cafe crowded, couples and groups of friends line the one wall, families taking up space at the tables, and a few solos floating through.

There’s a feeling in his chest that hits him hard as he watches a mom trying to wrangle her daughter as the dad laughs. It hits again as he sees a woman curled into the side of the man beside her, giggling at something he’s whispering in her ear. His eyes shift from person to person, the ache growing strong as his breathing becomes difficult. He stands up abruptly, his knee hitting the table causing his coffee to spill, the few people around him shooting him strange looks. He rushes for the door, barely having time to apologize for bumping into someone.

The heat hits him hard when he steps outside, the feeling of being suffocated only worsening. He can’t think straight, the lack of air in his lungs making him dizzy. He turns into an alleyway, leans against the wall and tries to ground himself. A woman spots him as she walks by, coming over to check on him. She rests her hands on his arms, shaking him gently to get him to focus on her.

“Sir, sir you’ve got to breathe. In, out. Easy, easy. There you go.”

Her voice is smooth, almost melodic, and it does the trick to help calm him. Bucky attempts to follow her breathing, gasps of air slowly turning into steady breaths.

He manages to say a small “Thanks,” between breaths. The girl smiles and lingers a little longer to make sure he’s okay before heading on her way. Bucky’s stuck momentarily, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Suddenly much more tired and willing to go back to bed, he wishes he could head back home and hide for the rest of the day, but he doesn’t want to deal with what’ll happen if he doesn’t show up to therapy.

***

He keeps zoning out as his therapist talks, his mind wandering to what had happened that morning. He was no stranger to panic attacks, but they usually came after a nightmare, not sitting in a coffee shop. And the woman, no ones ever been that quick to help him, not when he looks the way he does. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, her face stuck in his mind.

“James, at least pretend to pay attention.” His therapist's voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

“I’m listening.”

“No you’re not, you’ve got that look on your face that means you’re thinking about your nightmare while telling me you’re not having any.” Her voice is calm, but he knows she’s getting annoyed with him.

“I can assure you, I’m not thinking about a nightmare. I, uh, had a panic attack this morning.” He looks away from her, the confession more than he’s ever shared.

“James, that’s normal. PTSD has a lot of symptoms.”

“No, no this was different. This wasn’t because of a memory or a nightmare. I was sitting drinking coffee, just looking around, and it hit me. I had to leave, spent a while trying to calm myself in an alley. And this woman, she came over and tried to help me. I mean, it worked, but I just, I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, you’ve got to stop downplaying these things.” She’s really starting to get annoyed now, her voice now having a slight edge to it.

Bucky can’t quite figure out what pisses him off more, knowing she’s right, or how she doesn’t sugar coat things.

“Tell me exactly how it started, what were you doing?”

He groans, not feeling up for a heart to heart at the moment.

“Listen, I told you. I was drinking coffee and looking around. People watching, I guess. Keeps me occupied.”

“Ah,” she sighs. “I think what’s happening is your minds telling you that you’re lonely. Seeing all those people being happy together, it’s something you haven’t had in a while. You need people, James.”

He doesn’t want to hear it and she knows it. It’s all he’s been told for months now. But he’s fine, really. He has weekly lunches with Yori, and Alpine is plenty of company when he’s at home.

“Listen doc, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. After everything that’s happened to you, being alone is the quietest, most personal hell. And, James, it is very hard to escape it.”

***

The market was crowded today. The mid-summer heat enticing people to spend their days in the sun. Bucky made his way through the rows of stands, stopping to grab various items he thought his fridge was lacking. This had become a weekend routine for him, spending Sunday afternoons trying to create some sort of normality in his life.

He gets distracted momentarily by the sound of a high pitched laugh, forgetting about the bag of fruit being handed to him. It’s then that he spots you, the same girl who helped him in the alley. You’ve traded your hoodie for a tank top and you’ve got a little yellow apron covering you now. There’s a basket of pastries in your hand and you’re laughing with a group of people.

That small ache in his chest makes an appearance again, thoughts racing through his mind. Bucky doesn’t believe in fate, he’s far too old and seen too many things to think it’s real. But in this moment as he watches you, the girl who took time to care for him in a dark alleyway, looking like the world belonged to her, he can’t help thinking that maybe it does exist.

He doesn't know what comes over him, but before he knows it, he’s shoving everything into his bags and heading towards the shop. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, blinded by the need to just be near her. Before he can reach you, you’ve already headed back into the building and stationed yourself behind the counter.

He walks in and is hit with the smell of fresh pastries and he’s brought back to spending weekend mornings baking with his mom and sister. You’re just finishing up with the group, turning your attention to Bucky, “Hi! Welcome to Honey, what can I get for ya?”

Bucky blinks a few times, suddenly losing every ounce of confidence he’d had. “Do you need a few more minutes? Or would you like a suggestion?”

He takes a second to compose himself before replying, “Yeah, um. A suggestion, please?”

He doesn’t understand where his shyness has come from, but you seem to find it endearing. You motion to the display case and start rambling on about each treat, “The orange zest cookies seem to be a fan favourite, personally I like the neapolitan ones the best. We’ve also got every flavour of scone you could imagine if you’re feeling more classy. And oh, this one's new, bourbon pecan nut bars, a little midday pick me up. We’ve also got some fresh sandwiches if you’re looking for lunch. Or if you’re still not sure I can do a sampler box?”

“Yea, I’ll just get one of those, and maybe a sandwich too?”

“Sure thing!”

Bucky watches you fill up a little basket for him, noticing how you add multiples of your favourites. When you head into the back for a moment, he starts figuring out how to bring up this morning without being creepy. He doesn’t want to sound like he stalked you, that would really mess up his shot with you. You finish it up with a fresh sandwich from the back and hand him a neatly wrapped basket. “Alright, is that everything?”

Bucky realizes that this is his last moment to say anything, “Yes, and no. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m the guy who you stopped to help in the alley this morning. I didn’t stalk you or anything, I swear, I was just shopping in the market when I saw you and I thought I’d come over and say thank you.” By this point he’s wishing the ground would open up and swallow him, his face turning extremely red.

“I thought it was you. Don’t worry, I’m not freaked out. It’s no big deal, I’m glad you’re okay. I know how scary panic attacks can be when you’re alone, I’ve had far too many.” You offer him some sympathy, knowing how awful these things can be.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Thank you again for the help. I’m Bucky by the way.” He reaches his hand out towards you, and when you take you swear you feel something, “Y/N, nice to meet you.” You reply with a smile.

The both of you stand there for a moment, lost in each other, only shaken out of it by the ringing of the door as someone enters. “I should go, I’m still on the clock.” You reluctantly let go of his hand.

“Can I get your number before I leave?” The question takes you by surprise, but you’re quick to put your number in his phone, and he makes a promise to call you later that night.

***

When you arrive home that evening you’ve completely forgotten about the promised phone call, too eager to make dinner and then climb into bed. You’re in the middle of cooking when your phone goes off with an unknown number on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Bucky.”

That voice fills your ears and your heart stops for a moment. He sounds tired, the raspiness sending a warm shiver throughout your body.

“Hey, yea, how are you?”

The both of you fall into comfortable small talk. He asks you about work and you tell him about all of your favourite moments from the day. You ask him about the pastries you sent him home with and he confesses that his favorite were the oatmeal lemon cookies, they remind him of the ones his mom used to make.

You end up still on the phone with him by the time you’re curled up in bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. “You should go to bed doll, I can hear how tired you are.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

Bucky laughs, a small little chuckle, and all you want is to be able to hear that sound forever. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow after I’ve closed up the bakery and I’ll teach you to make something?”

“I’d like that. I’ll see you tomorrow doll.”

“See you tomorrow Bucky.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #marvel one shot #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction

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wizardouxie · 3 years

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PANTONE 2046 C

Genre: Fluff, #ZoeAppreciationWeek

Pairing: Zouxie

Summary: The Pink Hair Origin Story (alternatively also the Blue Hair Origin Story)

Word Count: 2788

Author's Note: First day of Zoe Appreciation Week! Wanted to participate so have this not so little one shot to showcase our lovely pink haired witch <3

"Wow, the dye came out really nicely," Zoe murmurs as Douxie exits the bathroom, his hair freshly blown dry -- from its tips to the full bangs dipped in a deep yet striking blue. He smiles widely at the quiet compliment and waves over to Archie.

"How does it look Arch?" they ask, though the answer is pretty clear, if Archie's fond gaze is anything to go by. The familiar flies in to nuzzle his face.

"Dashing as ever, Douxie."

Zoe leans back into the couch with content, taking in the beautiful sight that is her best friend. She did really good. The faint buzz of adrenaline lingers on the pads of her fingers. Right, she forgot. That was her first time.

"Are. You. Crazy? I've never even dyed hair before!" the natural brown haired girl hissed. She begrudgingly wiped the bubblegum that had exploded over her lips -- a result from the initial shock when Douxie first made his request. Granted, she felt honored that they would come to her before anyone else, but still! She can't risk ruining his hair, she doesn't have experience, plus the hair salon could totally do it better and-

"I'd rather it be you than anyone else," the wizard confirmed firmly. Zoe turned to the familiar. Surely the cat who lived with this stubborn kid could knock some sense into them. Archie could only provide a shrug in response.

"They're pretty sure about this."

She groaned.

"Fine, fine! But give me a few days unless you want me to pick out the wrong dye and end up with neon green."

[ 1 Week Later ]

Zoe couldn't keep track of just how many hair channels and blogs she'd gone through. She mimicked their hand movements, using cheap wigs and mannequin heads to simulate the experience. Through it all, one voice echoed the same message: "You can't mess this up."

She bought all the necessary tools. Gloves, hair clips, bleach, foil, just to name a few. Oh, and of course the dye -- though you'll be surprised how one can forget the simplest things while getting caught up in trying to memorize everything. Blue, Douxie had asked for. But what kind of blue? Sky blue? Cobalt? Midnight? Which one? She pinched the bridge of her nose before angrily texting the wizard. It went a little something like this:

DOUX: go with whatever you think will look good! i'm fine with anything tbh :]

ZOE: i Hate you so much

DOUX: ??? WHY

ZOE: IDK SHIT ABOUT HAIR DYE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT LOOKS GOOD

DOUX: let's talk about this in person before you electrocute your phone again

ZOE: you won't let me live that down will you

DOUX: you know me so well ;)

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. There's no way she was actually doing this for him.

She was.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" she asked for what would be around the 73rd time. Douxie pulled his face down with both hands.

"Ugh, the answer is still yes, love. I'm not asking you to dye the whole thing, just the front part, bangs and sides."

She rolls her eyes at the nickname and smacks the clean brush against his head. She smiles at the little 'ow' that Douxie lets out with a pout. Hm, cute.

"Alright, but don't start moping around if it doesn't come out the way you wanted it!"

"Nothing that a little magic can't fix if it gets to that point. Which I hardly believe it will."

And now here they are.

Douxie crashes on the couch with Zoe, slinging an arm over her shoulders. She raises an eyebrow at the sudden physical touch, but it's never unwelcome. Not when it comes to him.

"You know of all human creations, I gotta say, this one really takes the cake," they start and Zoe snorts.

"You say that about nearly everything."

"Can you blame me?"

She looks at them and no, she really can't. In fact, she finds herself agreeing with him. He looks... really nice. A faint blush spreads over her face; not that it is noticeable by any means -- the two of them happen to have done this dying process starting from the evening to night, so the dim lights in her home do little to highlight her features. This is still her Douxie, lovable guitarist and wizard nerd who cares about everyone. Yet there was something about the hair dye that changed things up a bit. Something good, naturally.

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence, doing whatever is usually available. Sometimes it's texting, scrolling through social media, or listening to music. Other times it's zoning off and reminiscing about the past.

Zoe decides to go for her phone, unconscious of the way her hand finds its way into Douxie's hair, carding through the locks and untangling them with nimble fingers. It's peaceful. Maybe even a little too peaceful, considering the two of them are adrenaline junkies.

"Douxie, I can hear you thinking..." she begins. It's a common way to start the conversation between them, and oftentimes she's right.

He turns around, her hand still in his hair, but enough to meet her eyes. Their own eyes look serious and her heart sinks. Were they not happy with their hair?

The answer is quite the opposite.

"You ever considered dying your hair too? Maybe we can match."

The untangling stops.

And then the tugging starts.

"Ow ow ow-"

"Hisirdoux Casperan you are a menace to society."

She does though. She considers it for weeks. Of course, Douxie doesn't push; it's her hair at the end of the day, she can do whatever she likes. But after seeing how well she did with the wizard, she kinda felt excited. She definitely can't forget the exhilaration she felt when she saw people compliment Douxie at Benoit's or at the GDT book store. Her heart started beating faster when he looked back at her with a proud smile on his face-- damn that wizard, they told the others that she did it for them, didn't they?

After a few days, a young girl in a cap comes up to her at the record store. Probably from Arcadia High, if her backpack stacked with books is any indication.

"Hi! I'm Claire. Claire Nuñez," the girl starts. Zoe raises an eyebrow in interest.

"Hey Claire. What can I get you?" she asks, raising a flask to her lips. There's no water. Damn.

"Um, it's not really a standard request, but um, I was wondering if you could dye my hair?"

Zoe chokes on her water. Dye her what?

"Kid, are you new here? This is a records store. I can give you the direction to the hair salon it's really not that far."

"No, no, no! It's just, this guy got their hair dyed and I asked if he did it himself and they said you did it for them so I came to you. It's nothing too big! Just a strand really," Claire rambles. She gestures to the invisible front of her hair, currently tucked away behind the cap, outlining it with her fingers. The hedge witch groans.

"That would be Douxie. Now, here's the thing I don't do this for just anyone. Douxie happens to be a close friend so what I did was a little gift for him. I don't even know you, so what do I get out of this?"

Claire pales.

"Uh, $20? I know a full head of hair costs way more but like I said, just a strand..."

Zoe's stomach rumbles in response. She had $5 currently in her wallet which could buy a snack at most. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh, you're lucky I'm hungry. Catch me after my shift is done okay? And I only got one color on me, which is blue, you good with that? Otherwise bring your own."

"Yes of course, of course! Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah, now scram if you're not here to buy anything."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if you had anything Papa Skull released recently!"

Curse this girl and her good taste in music.

[ 45 minutes later; 2:00 PM ]

"Thank you for doing this by the way," Claire starts. Zoe waves it off. She doesn't really know why she agreed to this. Well kind of. She wanted to eat. But besides that, she also was curious to see if she could satisfy another "customer". Hair dying was never a profession she had properly considered and right now? It doesn't hurt to entertain a thought.

"Alright so I have the bleach, you'll need to let that set in and keep that before dying the strand you want. We can even add toner to neutralize the color post bleaching if necessary," she lists off. Claire shakes her head.

"That won't be necessary!"

The girl pulls off her cap and surely enough, there's a light blonde lock, similar to Douxie's, just a little lighter. Zoe's impressed.

"Well that definitely makes my job easier. Especially since this is my second time."

"Wait, second time?"

"You didn't know?"

"No?"

"Of course Douxie leaves that part out. You want out? I'll pay you back the $20 in four days."

"No, I trust you."

Zoe always believed that she had tough and cold demeanor. Clearly she's doing something wrong if people are finding her trustworthy just by looking at one dye job.

"Alright then, here we go! Don't say I didn't warn you," the witch replies. She wraps the cloth around Claire softly, and pulls up the bowl with the dye in it. With a gloved hand she separates the pale strands from the brown ones. The blue will definitely be more prominent here than it would be with Douxie's. Something tells her that Claire wouldn't mind.

From the looks of Claire's surprise, wonder, and delight, she definitely didn't mind.

"It. Looks. So cool! You're really good at this. Maybe you should start a hair dying salon or something," the girl rattles off. Zoe raises a hand.

"I'm already working two part time jobs so... no. But I'm glad you liked it. The blue looks really good. Stands out well."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire repeats, putting back her cap on. A feeling of confusion overcomes Zoe.

"Wait, why are you putting your cap back on? Don't you want to show people?"

"Duh, but um, my mom doesn't know about, uh, all this. You know, councilwoman things."

Zoe's mouth drops, the $20 bill crumpled in her hand. So that's why she didn't go to the hair salon. Nuñez is the councilwoman, so she'd know pretty much everyone in the town. And word spreads pretty fast. In summary: Claire would have gotten caught.

"See ya!"

These kids are going to land her in some serious trouble one day.

With a burger and soda in her tray, Zoe takes a seat and pulls out her phone. That Claire girl though, she's sort of inspiring. Adventurous. Not hesitant in taking chances. And you know Zoe, she absolutely loves the thrills of life. Whether it be hunting magical creatures or refining her usually unpredictable magic. The humans tend to have mellow definition of risk taking, in her opinion, but their examples are fun enough in their own way: crossing the speed limit, riding rollercoasters, anything along those lines. The brunette clicks on a familiar contact and begins typing.

ZOE: which color looks good on me

ZOE: don't ask it's for a stupid job thing

DOUX: which job?

ZOE: WHAT PART OF DON'T ASK

ZOE: hex tech, something for employee uniforms

DOUX: i was going to say pink since it brings out your eyes but if it's for uniforms i dunno, light blue?

ZOE: hm interesting

DOUX: you should just work here at the book store it's chill

ZOE: but then i'd have to deal with you

DOUX: now is that really a bad thing?

DOUX: zoe.

Light blue is definitely a no go, Zoe decides. Too much blue dye going around. But pink, hm she could work with that. It's a pretty bold color and it would compliment her eyes as well as her face in general. A win-win for her.

And as for how far she's willing to go? She decides to go all in. No tips, no ombre, just complete bubblegum hair. Of course this takes a few days to gather the guts.

'You can do it Zoe, just go for the bleach,' she thinks to herself. Her hands shake with nervousness and excitement. Frankly, hunting niffins didn't compare to the rush she's feeling right now. She closes her eyes and brings the brush to her hair.

Well, here goes nothing.

She winces as she feels the tingling sensation, but loads of videos have assured that such symptoms were normal. She continues to work at it, using the foil to make sure she doesn't bleach a part of her hair to death. It's long and strenuous, but she knows the results in the few coming weeks would be worth it.

She doesn't have to worry about Douxie finding out thankfully. Turns out these weeks are essential for Merlin's "To-Do" List. Apparently it was to find Camelot?

"The castle he means. Not the actual kingdom. That's been gone for centuries. Anyways, I'll be back once I actually find it. Dunno how I'll do it and it probably will take me and Arch a month or so, haha. Oh! And if my hirers ask you anything, it's a family emergency."

Hm, whatever. A brief thought of Merlin dying his hair neon green amuses her, before she goes back to watching more hair dye videos. They've become a little addicting nowadays. She's amazed at how often people do it. How do they keep their hair so healthy?

It's been four weeks now and Zoe's eyes stare at the pink concoction in her hand. PANTONE 2046 C. This was the shade that stole her heart in the middle of the hair dye aisle. No other color could compare in the slightest. Even the cashier who packaged her order hummed in approval.

"Nice color! Not many go for it, but it'll suit you for sure."

This time her movements are calculated, not clumsy or fear driven like it used to be. One could even say she's getting the hang of this. Her hair over time changes from platinum blonde to a dark matted pink. She lets it sit for a bit, meanwhile focusing on getting the dye out of her hands. This turns out to be harder than she thought and she sighs. Well, maybe another day.

After washing and blow drying her hair, she stands in front of the mirror. The witch staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. As if she were a new person completely. And she liked it.

The blank stare shifts into a grin and she tugs at her own locks. Goddamn. She looks really good.

And well, Douxie's reaction is priceless to say the least.

DOUX: you said to meet up at the museum where are you

DOUX: i swear if you slept in i'll send archie to knock down everything in your apartment

DOUX: ok no i won't but still it's been a month since we last saw each other come on

DOUX: wait a second

DOUX: you're joking

DOUX: IS THAT??? YOU????

DOUX: IN THE PINK

DOUX: oh fuzzbuckets you look stunning

DOUX: Hello this is Archie. You broke Douxie so could you please finish your conversation with whoever it is you're with and come pick him up? Your hair is absolutely lovely by the way.

ZOE: omfg

ZOE: can't take you guys anywhere

The witch smiles at the girls and nods over to a gaping Douxie and his cat before gracefully exiting the conversation. She approaches her friend and pushes his jaw up with her index finger.

"So I'm assuming you're digging the new look hm?" she teases.

"You have no idea," Douxie responds. A pink tint lighter than the shade of her hair blooms across Zoe's face at the expression of adoration in her best friend's eyes. The two of them have been through a lot together, seeing each other grow and change. And this time, it was a really fun and welcome one.

"I might try this again with a different color some time. You wanna join then?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

It's crazy how all of this came from a chaotic, impulsive research project to help a friend. But honestly Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe Douxie was right. Of all human creations, this one beats pretty much everything else.

#ZoeAppreciationWeek #zoeappreciationweek #here's my entry hehe #enjoy!#toa #tales of arcadia #zoe #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #zouxie #archie #claire #claire nuñez #ophelia #ophelia nuñez

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magicman111 · 3 years

Text

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

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kixa · 3 years

Text

— 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓭𝓸 𝓘 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾?

Pairing: Sero x fem! Reader

Warnings: cursing? Fluff and crack

Synopsis: Sero is nervous to tell his crush he likes her

Word count: 2.4K

A/n: pls I’m so late but here’s my Valentine’s Day gift to y’all 🤧

Tagging: @honeykami

‘Sero stop starin- oh shit she’s looking over here’ Sero thought quickly redirecting his gaze to the front where Aizawa was giving a lesson. His cheeks grew a faint blush, not wanting to meet your eyes again and make things even more awkward, his eyes never left the board upfront. Sero looked down at his hands and fiddled with the little box. He gently smiled remembering what was in the box.

Sero had had a crush on you for a while. You guys were only good friends but he had thought of you as something more. He admired everything about you, your smile, your laugh, the way you looked so cute while studying, the list goes on and on. Your friends had caught on very early on but you brushed it off thinking that it might be just a joke they were playing on you. But you’d be lying if your heart didn’t flutter a little bit when you’d catch him staring at you.

Valentine’s day was coming up and there was already a whole bunch of activities that you could participate in. From candy grams to secret flower gifts (I fr don’t know what these things are called) the list went on and on. But Sero’s biggest dilemma was he wanted to confess on Valentine’s day but he didn’t know what to get you.

“Ok so guys I made her a bracelet and I got her favorite candy. Whatcha think?” Sero asked with bright eyes.

“Dude you can’t get her that, you gotta go all out like flowers, balloons, boxes of chocolates, all that good stuff,” Denki replied. Kirishima lightly punched Denki in the shoulder and moved in front of him.

“Don’t worry she’ll love what you got her. I take her as the girl who’s not into all the extravagant stuff,” Kirishima reassured. Kirishima’s words made Sero lightly smile but it hid the creeping anxiety he felt. Would you not like his gift? Would you think it was tacky and too small? Maybe you do like all that big stuff.

If confessing to you already wasn’t enough this worried him even more.

—-

When lunchtime came he passed the various tables set up for the small gifts you could buy. All of the gifts looked so nice and seemed like the perfect confession present to give someone. The commotion of the crowd was too loud he couldn’t think. What should I get her? Flowers? But I don’t know her favorite flower. Maybe I should just keep the original present?

After fretting about the whole situation and second-guessing himself he felt a little hopeless. Valentine’s day was tomorrow, and he hadn’t found any gifts worthy or unique enough for you. He sighed heavily as he plopped down on his bed. Staring at his ceiling he started to make images and moments of you from his mind. He remembered the many times you were clumsy and proceeded to laugh at yourself. He gently smiled, also thinking of the many times you guys both caught each other’s eyes but quickly looked away. Or how excited you looked when you told him stories. When he thought about it he just couldn’t get you out of his mind. He realized how special you were to him.

He got up and began to write down ideas for how he should confess to you. He actually made a checklist. Making up his mind, he called Denki and Kirishima to let them know the plan. They were totally down although Kiri kept on insisting that Sero just give you his original present. Sero brushed it off replying that he had to show you how much you meant to him and that he needed to make the whole thing big.

----

Valentine’s day comes and Sero is a nervous wreck. He had spent way too long in his room getting ready for class but for him a ‘monumental step in his life’. He tried to do his hair a different way putting it in a small ponytail. He talked himself up in the mirror for maybe 7 minutes.

“Heyy I look good,” he walks past the mirror, “oh hey didn’t see you there the name’s Sero” does some poses “Looking so sexy for what? Who gon check me?” “Stiff where? Stiff where?” as he’s swinging his head back and forth. “Oh, you said I’m hot? Si estoy muy caliente,” he grins.

He snaps his head as he hears hysterical laughter from his doorway. He sees Kirishima rolling on the floor while Denki is running around like a madman cackling. Sero brightly blushes to turn his head away.

He grabs his bag, “Haha very funny now let’s go before we’re late”

“Ok but you lost me at the ‘stiff where’,” Denki cried imitating the hair-waving action.

“Please it was the ‘Si estoy muy caliente’ for me,” Kirishima said wiping a tear. Sero pushed past them, ignoring the mocking. They followed Sero out of his room to be welcomed with decorated halls and mild chatter, seemed everyone was pretty excited about today. Thatś when it hit Sero, the butterflies of nervousness and the confidence that was once present slowly started to fade. He continued walking with his head facing the floor and he didn’t realize until Denki ran up to tackle him from behind.

“Whatcha thinking about scotch tape?” Denki questioned hanging off his shoulder. Sero suddenly snapped out of his zone out.

“Huh? Oh nothing really...just Y/n and today,” He muttered.

“Don’t worry bro we got everything covered for today’s plan,” Kirishima assured.

“Yeah, Bakugou is getting the balloons and teddy bear meanwhile Jiro’s vocal cords are pitched and ready to go. Everything is under control...except I couldn’t find any roses they were all out so we’ll just have to scratch the rose petal walkway,” Denki added. Sero felt a little weight off of his shoulders but was still disappointed how a portion of his plan wasn’t going to work.

As the day went on he couldn’t concentrate in class just thinking about the preparations for everything, it had to go perfect. Then he got the text from Jiro saying she wasn’t feeling too well and she would have to opt-out for today. Panic started to settle in. ‘Damnit ok so the little serenade is out of the picture too...it’s ok it’s ok just remember what else we have...we’ll make it work’. Sero reassured himself. He texted Denki and Kiri about the news and they tried their best to spew positive comments telling him to look at the silver lining. He looked up from his phone to search for you in the classroom. There you were turned around giggling with Mina about nonsense. As if you couldn’t look any cuter.

Throughout the various periods, his nerves stayed the same but settled enough for him to work on school work. His eyes flicked back and forth between Aizawa and the chalkboard behind him taking notes. He abruptly stopped when he noticed Aizawa wasn’t talking anymore, everyone has stopped what they were doing to pay attention to the people coming through the door. There was a girl and a boy carrying roses with little notes attached to them. They separated and started to move towards certain individuals. Sero’s head snapped towards you to see if they were headed your way, but they didn’t. ‘I should’ve got her one’ he thought to himself. He stopped his thoughts when a person blocked his view from you.

“Sero Hanta right?” the guy asked. Sero raised his head and nodded. “For you,” the guy said handing him a beautiful white rose. His eyes widened confused as to what happened. Who could’ve given him this? He whipped his head around the classroom trying to spot anyone who might’ve sent this. He thought about you, could you have given him this? Nah she probably wouldn’t...unless...nah

Following the peculiar incident, the bell rang signaling the end of the school day. Sero scrambled to put his things in his bag and get out of the class in a hurry. He raced out of the classroom to meet up with Kiri and Denki.

“Ok guys we got a couple of minutes before the halls clear out, Mina is with Y/n so she’s going to keep her company,” Sero started.

“I just spoke with Bakugou and I checked with him to see if still got the balloons he told me to piss off but I’m sure he has it covered,” Kiri added.

“So we’re all good right?” Sero questioned. “Yep!” Denki answered.

---

Once they heard the chattering of you and Mina from around the corner they hurried into their places. Sero standing off to the side while Denki, Kirishima stayed hidden and Bakugou should be joining them at any minute. When Mina and you turned the corner you caught Sero’s eye and almost immediately greeted him. This day was pretty hectic as is but seeing Sero made it a little better. Mina slowed down a bit behind Y/n and looked to Sero, she gave him a grin and thumbs up.

“Hey Y/n I’m going to meet up with Momo so I’ll catch you later,” Mina said. You turned back to look at her backing away down the hall, you figured this was because she wanted you and Sero to be alone together. You lightly giggled shaking your head, “Ok see ya tomorrow Mina,”

Sero watched the whole thing nervously fidgeting with his hands until you turned back around to face him.

“So what’s up?” you asked.

“Oh yeah um..yeah I wanted to tell you something,” he said flashing his cute bright smile. He rummaged in his pocket fishing for a piece of paper. Taking the crumpled paper and unfolding it he scanned over it before taking a sigh. Sero’s big eyes flicked between the paper and you, taking a dry gulp. You thought this was all too cute you had a small hunch about what was happening but didn’t want to think too far into it.

Meanwhile, Denki and Kiri were panicking like hell. Sero was about to start his “speech” and Bakugou wasn’t here. The majority of Sero’s plan wasn’t working out the way it should’ve and he was just hoping at least Bakugou would come through. (Not calling Bakugou unreliable...but yeah..I wouldn’t count on him if this were me). The two frantically texted Bakugou multiple times and called. Finally, Kiri got a reply.

You:

Bro where are you? You’re supposed to be here

Hothead:

I told you to piss off what part of that did you not understand Shitty hair

You:

Bro…

“So he’s not coming just great,” Denki exclaimed. “I’ll text Sero,” Kirishima said.

At this point, Sero was halfway through his note when his phone buzzed but he ignored it. It buzzed again, he ignored it. Now the duo was getting desperate because they needed to tell him. They called him and it interrupted him mid-sentence. He fumbled taking his phone out of his pocket nervously laughing, excusing himself to answer his call.

“What? I know you guys can see that I’m busy right now,” Sero whispered.

“Sorry, but we wanted to let you know that Bakugou isn’t here and we have no balloons and teddy bear. We’re sorry dude,” Denki explained.

“Are you serious? Shit, what do I do now?” panicked Sero.

Kirishima was quick to answer, “What about your original present the bracelet, and her favorite candy? You still have them in your bag right?”

“I do...but do you think she’ll like it?” he said anxiously. Kirishima quickly assured him even Denki added on. Sero took a deep breath and thanked his friends then ended the call.

He walked back over to you and was welcomed with a warm smile you gave him. It made his heart melt and he almost forgot what he was doing. He cleared apologized then started to speak again.

“Where was I? Ah ok so after knowing you for as long as I’ve known you I’ve realized that you have a wonderful impact on me and the things I do. I don’t know it’s just like now I see the world a lot more colorful than before and I’m pretty sure it’s because of you. I don’t know what your feelings are towards me but I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me and not as friends. So without further ado Y/n would you be my Valentine?” he explained. At this point, you were beaming with excitement, nervousness, and fluster. After internally screaming you finally settled down.

“Yes Sero I would be more than happy to be your Valentine, I thought you’d never ask,” you answered composedly. Sero nearly jumped out of his skin in elation.

Sero hurriedly took off his backpack to get out the present, “Oh I almost forgot I have something for you” He pulled how the small box and box of candy. You took them both and audibly gasped, “Sero where do you find these? I thought they were discontinued” He shrugged chuckling a little. You opened the small box and were welcomed with a cute beaded bracelet with your hero name on there. You slipped it on, holding your hand out to admire.

“Whatcha think?” he inquired. “I love it” you grinned.

“Also was that you that gave me the flower?” Sero inquired. You slightly smirked moving past him.

“Maybe… also you did a good job at hiding the whole plan but next time don’t do all the extravagant stuff just be you be cool,” You commented walking away.

“Oh yeah will do...wait...how do you know about the plan?” Sero realized. You continued walking shrugging while giggling. He followed you yelling out to get your response. You just bust out laughing now walking a little faster down the hall. He started laughing finally letting all of the anxiety about the whole situation slip away.

See nothing to worry about :)

---

Epilogue?:

Bakugou tried to move over switching to a more comfortable position while sleeping. But his eyes shot awake when he realized he couldn’t move. He was taped down to his bed and he knew immediately did this.

“DUMBASSES,” he screamed. After singeing the tape to nothingness he made his way to his door. Throwing it open damn near taking the door off. Sero, Kiri, and Denki zoomed down the hallway laughing up a storm. And I promise you Bakugou was not having it, he blasted himself down the hall trying to catch up to him.

And um...how that situation ended up is up to you...🙂

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waveypedia · 3 years

Text

geez, you’re something to see

Rymin Week Day 2: Love Song

1 4 5 6 7

Ao3

tw for a small amount of implied homophobia and miscommunication

As the late afternoon sun pours in through the van’s windows, Ryan scribbles frantically on the piece of paper spread on the dashboard in front of him.

He’s crouched on the driver’s seat, the heels of his feet digging into the back of the chair. It’s not the most comfortable position, but after a long day of driving, Ryan can’t stand to stay sitting like he was the whole day. Besides, he needs to focus on the task at hand. On the paper, so innocuous and unassuming, that consumes his waking thoughts.

It’s creased and crumpled from days of hiding it away as fast as possible whenever Min comes in the vicinity (which is often, given how small the van is). But now that Min is away, out fetching his and Ryan’s dinners, the paper lays pressed open painstakingly.

I’ll rewrite it to look nice once I’m done, Ryan promises himself. Min will like it better that way.

That begs the terrifying question of whether Min will like it at all.

Ryan drags a hand through his messy hair, tugging on the ends. It’s growing out much more smoothly since Min started trimming it every month or so. Ryan pretends to complain that it ruins his rough-and-rugged rockstar look. But in truth he’d sacrifice much more to keep those nights where Min sits behind him, so close Ryan can feel Min’s breath on his neck. Ryan can’t lose the nights where Min cards his hands through Ryan’s hair oh-so-gently. He can’t lose the nights where Min holds his hair like he’s holding something valuable, instead of strands of hair his family members would disapprove of in length, rife in split ends. Ryan revels in the closeness, the domesticity, of it all far more than he should.

Ryan takes a deep breath and shakes himself out of it. Now is not the time to zone off, to find himself lost in his daydreams of Min (though heaven knows he’s good at getting off track - his parents had been sure he knew). Back to the task at hand.

Ryan picks up the pen he’d subconsciously lost when he started dreaming of Min (again). He twirls it. He caps and uncaps it. He taps it against the wheel.

Nothing new comes to mind. Of course.

Ryan’s never had this much trouble with songwriting before! As he’s famously said before (read: Min constantly teases him about), “You just gotta make it rhyme.” Out of the duo, he’s always been the songwriter of the two, although, like in every aspect of the band, they do their best work when they’re collaborating contributing equally. Hell, he’s been writing songs since he was five. (Whether the lyrics consisted of simply “I’m gonna dress my dog in a toque / I’m gonna dress my cat in a toque” is irrelevant.) Regardless of how nonsensical and wacky his lyrics can be at times, Ryan Akagi is an experienced songwriter with a touring band playing songs he composed for small to medium venues. Writing one single song should not be this hard.

Except he knows exactly why this particular song comes so difficult. While Ryan would never dream of putting anything less than his all into all of the music he writes for Chicken Choice Judy or even just Gage, he’s never held them to the same literary standard. Ryan’s performative music is wild and free, just like himself. It’s his way of expressing himself, of quite literally putting everything he has out into the world and letting it run free.

While Ryan and Min have both been consciously working to reach a middle ground since they got off the train, Min has always been the more reserved of the two. Ryan knows he can’t give Min the same unrestrained beauty in chaos he puts into his band. If Min’s been trying not to limit himself as much, Ryan can compromise. This is his way of not letting himself go so far he’ll leave Min in the dust.

This song is all about being honest with Min, after all. Miscommunication has always been their greatest enemy, and Ryan is loath to fall into the same trap yet again. Past issues aside, Min just… deserves to know. It’s too big of a secret to keep to himself. Ryan is many things but he isn’t a secret-keeper. Not when it comes to big issues.

He just needs to tell Min. It doesn’t matter how it’s received. He just needs to let him know.

It doesn’t matter.

Ryan lets out a frustrated groan, dropping the pen again to tug at his hair. If it’s not already messy, it’ll be positively cluttered by the time he’s finished. His mother would have a field day if she saw him like this.

The door handle jiggles.

Ryan’s head snaps up. He’d been completely caught up in writing (or more accurately, thinking about writing) he hadn’t noticed Min walking back to the car.

Through the window, Min waves sheepishly and holds up a bag of food. Ryan leans over the second seat to let him in.

Min slides inside and sets the bag in the space between the two seats. “Sorry about that,” he says, scratching bashfully at his beck with his free hand. “I forgot my keys.”

Ryan smiles mechanically, waving him off, and shoves the paper into the pocket of his leather jacket. At this rate it’ll be creased beyond recognition by the time he’s finished, even by his own standards. “It’s fine. I do that all the time.”

He will definitely need to rewrite it in a nicer script when he’s done.

(That is to say, if he ever feels confident enough in his work to call it done. Ryan’s sister had called Min a “perfectionist” once, citing his need to keep working on their school projects right up until the deadline because he never felt satisfied. Ryan didn’t understand the sentiment until now.)

Min gives him a curious glance, but says nothing otherwise. He’s likely written it off as just one of Ryan’s quirks. “Yeah, well.” He unhooks his keys, complete with the Dumpy keychain from his days before the train, from the dashboard and tucks them safely in his pocket. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Ryan frowns at him. “Min, it’s fine. I know it’s not something you usually do, but everyone messes up sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Min digs around in the bag for their meals, avoiding his gaze. “Right.”

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, slightly worried. For a minute, all thoughts of the paper burning a hole in his pocket are forgotten in lieu of caring for his best friend. “You’re acting weird, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Min slips his hand into his pocket, but pulls it back out empty-handed after a minute. Odd.

They eat in silence for a couple minutes. Without the distraction of talking to Min or worrying about Min (although he’s doing plenty of that, don’t worry), Ryan is right back to worrying about his love song.

Well, it’s a good thing Min seems so nervous tonight. Unless he asks outright, Ryan has an excuse not to give him the love song tonight. He won’t add stress to… whatever has Min so worried (and Ryan, by extension).

“So…” Min fists his hands in the fabric of his shorts as if he’s nervous, except that can’t be right, because he has no cause to be nervous. Ryan is the nervous one here, obviously. Except it’s not obvious, because Min can’t know.

Min glances at Ryan, biting his lower lip. “Have you written any new songs lately?”

Ryan chokes and fumbles with his food, nearly spilling it. He knows. He knows. He knows. How could he possibly know?!

Well. It looks like he asked outright after all. Only one thing to do now, no matter how much Ryan would rather dump his food onto the seat, ruining the upholstery beyond what he and Min can pay for cleaning, and run away into the night. Never to be seen again, leaving behind only his precious guitar, van, and a confused friend.

As dramatic as Ryan is, that’s unfortunately out of the question. He wouldn’t do that to Min.

“Min, I…” Well, Ryan is a man of his word. He knows all too well how badly a lack of communication has messed them up before. He can’t keep this secret any longer.

With shaking hands, Ryan pulls the crumpled ball of paper out of his pocket and presents it to Min in a gesture that he hopes is put-together and elegant but is likely more akin to shoving it ungracefully in Min’s face. “Here.”

Min’s face had been glazed over with a sort of set determination, but that mask shatters as soon as he notices the paper. He blinks, mouth slightly agape, hands hovering near his own pocket. “O-oh. Um. Thank you, Ryan. I bet this’ll be totally rad.”

Slowly, as if unsure or confused (or maybe even disappointed? Oh man, that can’t be it, can it? Ryan’s fully prepared for Min’s disappointment, hell, he’s had the same experience with his parents, but Min doesn’t even know the context of his lyrics yet), Min takes the paper and unfolds it.

Time seems to pass much slower than normal, seconds sludging by, as Min reads the lyrics. Ryan tracks his eyes darting across the paper, his mouth opening wider and closing again as he reads and processes the meaning behind Ryan’s grand gesture.

Ryan twists his fingers together. It hurts, but not as much as watching Min read his writing. “Sorry it’s so messy. I was going to rewrite it when I was done, but…”

“Ryan.” Ryan’s mouth snaps shut as soon as Min speaks, and he jerks his head up. Min is staring at him as if he’s a new person, in a new light. “Is this… a love song?”

Ryan nods mutely, his heart pounding in his chest like the drums of an established rock band at a sold-out concert.

Min takes a deep breath. “For… me?”

Ryan nods again, sharp and jerky.

Min stares, frozen in shock, for a moment before bursting out laughing.

Ryan chokes, surprised, and whips his head away. He curls up (or as much as he can manage while sitting in the driver’s seat of his van), pressing his side against the seat and fisting his hands in the seam of his jacket.

He’d been prepared for a negative response, but deep in his heart he hadn’t expected Min to react this badly. Even after his parents had reacted worse.

Of course.

“Ryan,” Min chokes out between peals of laughter. “Ryan, Ryan, oh man. I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

Ryan turns around slowly, hesitantly. Hope is already building in his chest before he’s even processed Min’s words.

When Min comes into his sight again, Ryan can barely meet his eyes before a piece of paper is thrust into his face. Puzzled, Ryan takes it and reads it over.

It’s… a love song.

It’s a love song, penned in Min’s neat handwriting, with classical notation instead of chords because Min learned music through his viola teacher and not as a self-taught guitarist like Ryan. Min was worried it would be a problem when they started collaborating, but their combined skills in multiple disciples has become one of their greatest assets as a musical group.

But Ryan can’t focus on the notes, however beautiful they may be, because the lyrics are telling a story he’s only dared to fantasize about in his wildest dreams.

“Sorry for laughing,” Min says, still chuckling quietly. “I just… I was trying to create a natural segue into giving this to you, and I… Wow. We’re idiots, aren’t we.”

Ryan doesn’t realize he’s crying until a teardrop lands on Min’s songsheet. He wipes it away and starts to giggle. “Yeah. We are.” He glances up, meeting Min’s eye for the first time since this whole debacle and gives him a wide, teary smile. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t think we’d be us if we didn’t pull some convoluted scheme to get our feelings out. Y’know, seeing as it took getting kidnapped by a magical death train the first time.”

Min snorts and rubs at his eyes. “Don’t remind me.” He crawls across the middle of the van and curls up next to Ryan, wrapping his arm around him. “So, are we good?”

Ryan lets out a wet laugh. “Oh man, we’re better than good. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hoping for this?”

“Not as long as me,” Min says, grinning mischievously. “I’ve been pining since high school. Take that!”

Ryan lets his head drop onto Min’s shoulder, relishing in the affectionate closeness and warmth of him. “Man, we were such repressed nerds in high school, huh?”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Min leans his head against Ryan’s, chuckling softly. “I’m glad we’re okay now, though.”

“Me too, dude.” Ryan lets out a contented sigh. He still can’t quite believe they’ve gotten here, after all that worrying and stressing over every little detail. “Me too.”

They stayed like that for a little while, half-eaten plates of food forgotten in the back of the van. Through the open windows, the sunset lights up the sky in a fiery glow, with colors gradually shifting from pink to fiery red to deep blue.

Min hums contemplatively. “So, what now? Should we perform these onstage or what?”

Ryan toys with the paper between his fingers, absentmindedly tearing off a corner. “No, I think… I think these should be kept between us.”

“I agree,” Min says, intertwining his fingers with Ryan’s. Ryan’s heart leaps into his throat, and he’s sure his face is burning up.

“I think it would be nice if we… if we maybe wrote a love song together,” Ryan says, a little nervous.

Min smiles. “I’d like that too.”

day 2 is in the books! this one is half me projecting my experience with writer's block while writing this fic and half exploring the love they feel about each other. in their own words, what repressed nerds. love them

a whole lotta headcanons in this one c:

i didn't mean to bring sunsets back again, even for just a small detail, but i guess it's a rymin motif now. maybe i'll try to stick it in the rest of my rymin week pieces, but i won't try to shoehorn it in if it feels unnatural. god i love sunsets this is just more projection isn't it.

title is from home by edward sharpe and the magnetic zeroes! this song, just like its title implies, feels like home. it was a stigma of the songleading group i was in at camp a few years ago so it's very special to me. i'm happy to pass its lyrics on to rymin and give it a new significance for me personally!

i've been really enjoying all the rymin week content so far! good job, everyone! it's so nice to see everyone come together in support of these lovely characters

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or my twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

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specificocean33 · 3 years

Text

ＴｈｅＳｐｏｒｅｓ

ＫｉｒｉｓｈｉｍａｘＲｅａｄｅｒ

2: ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ; ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ

A Zombie Apocalypse AU. Just a little idea I had. I’ll be writing a total of 3 parts (subject to change,) but anyways here’s the second :) I hope you enjoy it.

The next few hours over to the West District were certainly much livelier than before. Indeed, Kirishima was like the physical embodiment of a golden retriever. His optimism and charisma was contagious, but damn you if you weren’t looking for a cure.

At least Mateo seemed to have cheered up. You were trying your best to allow the anger and sadness eat you alive, but Kirishima was unknowingly beating away your negative emotions with his stupid jokes and his ability to get along with others.

Damn him.

When you finally arrived at the West District after 2 hours, you paid the entrance fee and made your way inside. You decided to trust Kirishima and have him take 25$ and look for a hotel for you all to stay at. You took Mateo to the nearby pawn shop to look for something interesting for him for his birthday.

The West District is a shopping district of sorts; weaponry, food, armor, car parts, gun parts, and other sorts of odds and ends can be found here. That’s why it was one of the most crowded and most populated Districts. That’s also what made it incredibly easy to be stolen. You had Mateo hold your hand the entire time, lest he or you be stolen.

Before you all separated, you swallowed your feelings and opened the car trunk. Your mother’s shotgun was entirely normal. As a matter of fact, the only identifying factor was a Sakura flower keychain hanging from it. You frowned before handing it over to Kirishima, along with some crumpled up currency.

“If you lose this, you’ll be getting the shit beat out of you twice today,” you growled before firmly placing the gun in Kirishima’s hands.

He gulped and nodded, “Of course. It wouldn’t be very manly of me to lose someone else’s property. I’ll be sure to return it to you, safe and sound.”

“Look…when you’re done, we’ll be at one of the pawn shops. I don’t have a phone, and I assume yours got stolen, if you had one at all-”

Strangely, Kirishima didn’t clarify if he had a phone at all to begin with.

“-So just look around. All the pawn shops are clumped together anyway.”

“Okay!” He said with a bright smile. “See you soon!”

You weren’t sure why you were trusting him so much. There was just something so….likable about him. You weren’t sure what though.

Keeping a firm grip on Mateo, you both managed to safely make your way to the pawn shop section of the District. You settled on the first one that you saw, a shabby little shop called Lucky’s Pawn Shop, and followed Mateo around as he looked for another sticker or color of spray paint. (Mateo loved to vandalize buildings, and seeing as how they were all one boring color, you allowed it. No one really cared anyway.)

The entire pawn shop was filled with odd things. All four walls had shelves full of gears, books, broken and whole toys, candle sticks, and other things. The floorspace was taken up by tables and desks of equally odd things. Mangas, comics, novels, old action figures and other such things filled the store.

After about 30 minutes of “I like this color, (Y/N)!” “No, that color’s ugly. Pick another one.” And “Check out this cool sticker, isn’t it from that show you used to watch?” “Yes, but today’s for you. Pick something you want,” Kirishima came bounding into the shop, and seemed genuinely insulted that you were surprised to see him again.

“What? Did you think I was gonna steal from the people who did me a favor? What kind of unmanly scum do you take me for?” He crossed his arms and was very huffy about the whole thing. You found it endearing.

You laughed, “Sorry, sorry. At least you’re back now. Why don’t you help Mateo pick out a color? He’s been struggling and frankly all the colors he picks are lowkey ugly,” you said, pointing at the shelf of half used and cap less spray paint cans.

There were quite a few shades at this shop, which was sort of uncommon.

“Hmm…how about this super cool red, little bro?” Kirishima grinned, pointing at a fiery shade of crimson.

You sighed. You should have known he’d go for some shade of red.

“Oh! I like it. I only have orange and yellow, so I needed a red anyway. Can I get it, (Y/N)?”

“Fine. At least it wasn’t that throw up shade of green,” you mumbled before taking the can in one hand and Mateo’s in the other.

“It’s called ARMY GREEN!” He exclaimed in and exasperated tone.

You winked at Kirishima, he smiled and his cheeks flushed slightly pink.

“Yeah yeah whatever. Army green, throw up green, same difference. It’s all green. Ugly colors regardless.”

Mateo shot you a look before you set the can on the front counter. An old woman was bent over so she didn’t see you right away. When you cleared your throat to get her attention, she bumped her head under the desk and let out a series of curses before lifting her head up, one robotic arm rubbing the spot where she had hurt herself, and the other gripping the counter for support.

This woman had the wildest white hair you had ever seen. She wore a pair of googles on her head, which had a wire coming out of it and trailing in the floor. She blinked a few times, before smiling kindly.

“Oh hello there. Is this all you wanted,” she asked examining the can before looking back at you.

“Yes, that’s all. How much were you wanting for it?”

“Hmm…this particular shade was actually made by me, so it’s a full unused can. 5$ and 3 pieces of copper wire.”

You almost choked. Currency AND wire? Was she insane?

Mateo looked slightly saddened, and Kirishima a little confused.

“Umm…copper wire?” Kirishima whispered into your ear;You jumped, startled. His voice caught you off guard, and you nodded, your cheeks flushed.

“Might I offer 6$ and 1 piece of copper wire?” You asked, turning away from Kirishima, trying not to look at Mateo.

“Hmm…” the old woman crossed her arms and pondered for a moment, “How about 3$ and 3 wires?”

You sighed. You really wanted to give the woman less copper wire, but it seemed there was no help for it.

“Alright. Deal,” you mumbled, reaching into your back pocket and extracting the payment she wanted.

15 minutes later, Mateo was grinning and staring at his new paint can on his bed. The hotel Kirishima managed to find was rather nice. You had half a mind to ask how he managed to get a room with a working bathroom, kitchen, and 3 twin beds to boot, all for 25$, but you decided to ask him a little later.

You shooed Mateo off to shower and promised to find something nice to eat for dinner, before sitting Kirishima down at the kitchen table.

He seemed nervous.

“Alright. So I need to know for how long we’re gonna be traveling together for.” You said bluntly.

“W-wow. Straight to the point, huh?” He laughed nervously.

“I have nothing to hide, and as you can see, we’re sort of broke. I can’t afford to have another person around, no offense. Mateo is my priority and I need to know how long we’re gonna have you around.”

“W-well…okay look,” he sighed rubbing his face with his hands, “I…I’m a runaway.”

You leaned forward on the table.

“A runaway? From who? Are you dangerous? Elaborate.”

“Umm…well…my parents are Buyers. I…I ran away 3 days ago.”

Buyers. The worst kinds of people on this godforsaken planet.

Buyers are the people who buy from Kidnappers. It would make sense why Kirishima would want to leave that life, but that would only mean one thing.

Kirishima was originally from a White Zone.

“You’re…from a White Zone?” You asked.

“Yes. My parents bought freshly Contaminated and…did terrible things to them. I don’t want to talk about what they did, it was just awful, but I think you can see why I wanted nothing to do with that life.”

You felt sort of bad for him, he looked distraught.

“Then…you have nowhere to go?” You asked.

“Well, not necessarily. Whenever things got sort of bad, I’d leave for a bit and I’ve found some friends. They live in the East District, but the thing is, I’d always come back. This time…I haven’t, obviously. They sent someone to come get me, but they robbed me instead, probably to extort more money from my parents.”

“How come you don’t have a bounty on you then?” You were beginning to get somewhat concerned. Harboring a White Zone resident could mean terrible trouble that you really couldn’t handle. Not to mention a lot of running away from bounty hunters and other scum.

“My parents didn’t like me all that much to begin with. They were mainly mad I didn’t agree with their actions, and they didn’t like that I spoke up about it. They want me back because they won’t have to put up a front, but at the same time, not having me home makes it easier on them. They want an obedient child, and that’s not me,” he said, not meeting your eyes.

“So…no one is looking for you, then?” You asked nervously.

“No, no I don’t think so. This is…super unmanly of me to ask, but…can I stay with you two? Just for a little bit? I’ve got some contacts around here who still think I’m living with my parents, and I can get some money for you guys, I’ll make sure to pay you back for helping me, I swear! Just…please, let me stay?” He was pleading with you, looking you deep in your eyes.

His crimson eyes bore into yours, and for the life of you, you couldn’t find it within your heart to deny him.

How entirely unfair. He was dangerous and you knew it. Mateo needed to be kept safe but….

He needed help. You enjoyed his company.

You decided to trust him.

“I-…o-okay. Just…please, don’t put Mateo in any danger. He’s the only family I have left, please,” you said quietly, clasping your hands together.

Kirishima smiled the brightest smile you’d ever seen him muster, before standing up. Before you knew what was happening, he had you crushed in a hug.

“I promise!”

ＥｎｄｏｆＰａｒｔ２

#mha x y/n #mha #mha kirishima #anime #slow burn #zombie au #zombie #apocalypse #mha x you #mha fluff #kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

Text

Kiss the Girl (Part 3)

~Series Master~

Word Count: 2K

~Master~

~Harry Potter Master~

Previously...

“For the record Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You heard his apology and you shut your eyes, squeezing tight until you were sure your cheeks were painted in tears and George was gone. When the moment came, you took a deep breath, collapsing onto the floor with a sob. He didn’t need to be sorry. He shouldn’t have felt sorry. You made him feel that way, if you would’ve just shut your mouth, everything would’ve been okay!

Or as okay as you can get when you’ve fallen in love with your best friend…

George didn’t want to leave you there, but when you just dropped all that information on him, he was lost.

How was he supposed to tell you he felt the same way?

---

You didn’t know how much longer you could cry, but the sun was gone and all you wanted to do was curl up into your bed and wish this whole thing was a dream. Well, a nightmare really.

George wouldn’t feel that way and you just told him you’re in love with him, or you were in love with him. How was your friendship supposed to come back from that?

The common room was almost empty as you returned, no plans to stop until you heard your name. Fred saw you the moment you stepped through the portrait, not letting you hide in your room as he pulled you to the couch.

Fred didn’t say anything as he took in how drained you looked from crying. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly and wiped some of the tears from your cheek.

You were unmoved, not even responding to his touch. “I told him. I said I was falling for him and- and that I knew he wouldn’t feel the same, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

Fred swallowed thickly, leaning back against the couch and pulling you under his arm. “What did he say?” He spoke quietly as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t remember.” You shook your head as you tried to remember. “He didn’t say anything. I told him to leave before he could.” Fred nodded becoming surprised George actually left you there. “I want to go to bed.” You muttered and pushed yourself off the couch, getting halfway out of the room before you felt Fred’s eyes on you and you turned around. “Goodnight, Freddie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Fred couldn’t get a word in before you were gone and he sat alone once more. He was mad. Madder than mad, he was furious. George was really going to pass up someone like you? Someone who was always by his side, helping plan pranks, getting them both out of detention, being a major support in both of their lives and George was going to throw that away? Not on Fred’s watch.

He wasn’t about to throw away years of friendship because George couldn’t see how stupid he was being.

The moment George walked back into the common room, Fred stopped him like he did you, only this time he wasn’t kind about it. Fred pressed his brother to the wall, making George startled. “What’s wrong with you?” George questioned him, trying to shove his not normally aggressive brother of him.

A few people had entered the common room, sending glances towards the brothers but Fred and George ignored them as Fred drug George up the stairs and into their room, thanking their roommates for not being inside.

“What’s gotten into you, Freddie?” George asked again as Fred glared at him. George had never seen his brother this way.

“What’s gotten into you? Choosing Angelina over Y/N? Really?” When George realized what this talk would be about, he turned to the door ready to jump ship but Fred stepped in the way, “Tell me George. Why wouldn’t you choose someone like Y/N.”

“I didn’t mean to!” George almost shouted before he stopped and collected himself. Fred just stood baffled and needing for George to explain. George sighed and ran a hand through this hair, moving to fall onto his bed. Fred stayed put and waited. “I didn’t mean to ask Angelina. I wanted-“ He stopped himself again, letting his eyes close as he began to tell Fred everything, “I wanted to ask Y/N.”

---

This was it. Today was the day George was going to ask you to the yule ball. He had been hyping himself all night, planning on how to do this. He decided to keep it straight forward.

Just ask you.

It didn’t sound like something George would do, but he needed to be sure there were no surprises. He was trying to not seem overly excited this morning as he headed down to breakfast, coming to his normal seat this morning to see you and Fred already in a conversation.

You raised a brow at him, noticing his change in demeanor. “Morning, Georgie.” You laughed out as he fell into a seat next to you. He shared a smile with you briefly before you turned back to Fred, engaging in the conversation one more time and inviting George in.

He kept looking for the perfect moment to ask, but right now didn’t seem like the time.

As the day grew on, George was getting more and more deterred from his goal. Every time he tried, it failed. In potions, he got in trouble with Snape for talking. During lunch, he ended up spilling soup all over the table while he tried to get your attention. While you were planning a prank with him, it backfired and George ended getting you and him stuck in detention. He even tried to ask you then! But then some first year decided to get himself in trouble and ruined the opportunity he had with you alone.

He was getting tired of it. By dinner, he was convinced it was the universe telling him that his crush on you shouldn’t happen and George found himself doing the last thing he thought he would out of complete fear this was a sign you’d say no.

“Would you go to the dance with me, Angelina?” His words were rushed out as the students around him looked to him in surprise. Angelina, who never expected to be asked by George, was shocked, nodding her head slowly before smiling and nodding harder as she verbally accepted. George put on a smile as he looked at her, letting the table get back to normal before he finally looked to you. On the surface, you were smiling, looking down at your plate as you picked apart your food. But inside you were screaming. George asked Angelina, right in front of you.

Fred had watched the whole thing as well. He could tell you were trying to hide your emotions by the way you refused to look up at George. You didn’t eat anything else for the rest of dinner and went to bed early that night. The thought that George had been so oblivious not to realize you were hurting made Fred furious.

The next day during a study hall in the great hall, you sat across from Fred and George, getting your work done as you listened to Ron talk about the yule ball, just down the table from you. It still made you uneasy to think about George and Angelina going together, but you wouldn’t let it show.

You started to zone out from their conversation, scribbling your notes down on your parchment before a crumpled piece of paper smacked you on your forehead. You flinched before looking up, seeing Fred smirking at you as well as all your friends looking at you.

“What? What did I miss?” you asked and tried to hide your sudden insecurity.

Fred’s smirk turned into a smile as his eyes flickered down to the piece of paper. Furrowing your brows, you opened it up and read the handwriting that was scribbled quickly across the page.

Will you go to the ball with me? (As friends)

You let out a light chuckle as you folded the paper and looked up to your friend. “Freddie, I would love to go to the yule ball with you.” George watched you smile and put the paper in your pack, hiding it from anyone’s eyes. You went back to work obviously more excited then you had been before and George couldn’t look away. You were going with Fred to the yule ball and George was going with Angelina, all because he was terrified the universe was telling him it wasn’t meant to be.

---

Fred didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say and he could barely process the words coming out of his mouth once George’s story was over. “You’re dating Angelina because you were too chicken to ask out Y/N?” George hesitated before nodding, finding Fred’s conclusion accurate. He was a chicken. “She didn’t deserve that.”

“I know.” George said quickly. He agreed, you didn’t deserve that. “I just thought I’d take Angelina to the ball and then it would be over and then someday I’d find the courage to ask Y/N.”

“Then what happened?” Fred asked bitterly, pacing around the room slightly. George took a second to compose his thoughts, trying to know the best way to tell this to his brother. Fred could tell he was stalling. “George!”

“She was happy!” George yelled out and sat up on his bed to look at Fred. “You asked her to the dance and I knew it was as friends, you didn’t need to tell me, but I saw how happy she was that night with you dancing and getting in trouble. You two looked bloody perfect together and suddenly I was realizing how daft I was to think that maybe she would’ve said yes to me as more than friends.”

Fred just stared at him, his face stoic and all it did was make George nervous. “I get it.” He mumbled. George waited for Fred to say more but the look on his face wasn’t something George had ever seen before. “I get it now, George. Y/N told me what happened today in the tower. She says she loves you and all of sudden this ‘truth’ spills out of you.” Fred let out a cold laugh, turning away from his brother. “You don’t deserve her.”

“I’m not lying!” George tried to get his brother to see, feeling his eyes slightly met with tears as he stood up.

Fred turned around and George swore there was fire in his eyes as he yelled. “You’re playing with her emotions, George! You’re hurting the one person who’s always been by our side!”

George wasn’t going to stand there and listen to his twin yell at him like this. “You think I meant to do this?! I do love her! I wanted to ask her to the dance! I wanted her to be the girl I kissed afterwards! I wanted her to be the one that I kissed everyday after! I do love her.”

“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Fred scoffed and shook his head. “She doesn’t deserve you.” Fred said and it only irritated George more. “Y/N, deserves someone who won’t choose someone else over her!”

“Oh, and who’s that? You?” George joked, thinking the idea of his brother having actual feelings for you preposterous, despite seeing the two of you together.

“Could be.”

Turns out the idea wasn’t as absurd in Fred’s mind as it was in his brother’s. “What?”

“Could be me.” Fred repeated himself, feeling a surge of confident run through his spine at his brother’s face. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else before her. Not even you.”

George laughed through his nerves. “I’m your brother.”

“And she’s Y/N.”

The warmth in Fred’s voice caused George panic. Fred couldn’t be serious. It was you, the same you George had always assumed would end up with him. George didn’t know what exactly was running through his mind, but all he could focus on was the little things between you and Fred he should’ve caught onto.

Asking you to the ball.

The kiss on the head.

Always being there when George blew you both off to hang out with Angelina.

Knowing exactly where you were without even trying.

The way he was defending, describing you.

How he would always choose you first.

“You’re in love with her.” George’s conclusion ran out of his mouth before he could stop it and he wished Fred would deny it, but Fred couldn’t. It was the truth.

“As are you.”

They both fell silent, not even looking at each other in complete shock and betrayal. “Seems we’ve got a problem on our hands, Fred.” Suddenly, the twins who always seemed to be on each other’s side were split right down the middle. They were both in love with you, and yet neither could do anything. Fred knew George owned your heart and George knew he was the one who broke it.

“Seems we do, George. Seems we do.”

A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Are you liking this?

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#George Weasley x Reader #Fred Weasley x Reader #George Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley imagine #George Weasley #Fred Weasley #Weasley Twins x Reader #Weasley Twins #Harry Potter x Reader #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Imagine

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jojosbizarreblog · 4 years

Note

Hi! I don't know if you're taking requests, but if you are, I was wondering if I could get a small scenario set during part 4, where the Reader was a crusader and Jotaro needs her to help to catch Kira. But the reader herself is done with stands and all that jazz so she flat out refuses (and of course she ends up getting convinced to help!). Sorry if this is too specific... I like to go into detail with my requests ❤️

(Don’t apologize! It actually helps me out a lot when it goes in depth like this, so thank you! Hope you like it!)

(P. S. Zinnia flowers have a purpose in the title, trust me)

(P. P. S. It’s long. It’s angsty. Buckle up)

Zinnia Blossoms in Full Bloom (Jotaro x reader)

You opened up a little shop to get away from your past. Unfortunately it comes back to you through the visit of an old friend.

Opening the little flower shop outside of Morioh was arguably one of the best things that you’ve done. It was good to leave the old things behind, leaving behind the oozing monsters that threatened to drag you down and envelop you whole. Of course, you still kept in contact with some of your remaining friends, but it was difficult with them all over the globe.

‘Fire Cherry Flowers’ was the name of the little shop, in honor of the ones who have passed. It was your way of remembering their life while you tried to forget the pain that came with their memories. Business was slow when you first opened but eventually, the shop gained popularity, and now you had no trouble keeping yourself busy.

You were getting ready to close up shop for the day, cleaning up the fallen flowers on the ground behind the counter, when the bell to the shop rang behind you. “In a moment!” You called. Straightening up, you started turning to the person. “I’m about to close up for the day, but what do you nee—” You froze as your eyes made contact with familiar ocean blue ones.

“(Y/n),” Jotaro said. He still looked as handsome as ever, decked out in a long white coat and matching pants, almost like what he wore ten years ago. You couldn’t help but remember all those nights spent with the others, long lost memories.

You swallowed thickly. “Jotaro. What brings you here?”

“I need your help.”

“How about we sit down for some tea,” you said. “I’m closing up the shop, so we can sit in the backroom and you can tell me what’s going on.” You two parted on good terms all those years ago. He left Morioh to pursue his dreams of becoming a marine biologist while you stayed near to apprentice under a skilled gardener, learning about the nuances of plants.

He nodded and hovered in a corner of the shop as you bustled around, locking doors and turning off lights. You beckoned him to your back room, where a little stove accompanied by a table and chairs occupied the area. Tea was made in a few short minutes and you sat down across from him, setting down two cups.

“What brings you here?” You asked him, nursing the warm cup between your hands.

Jotaro sighed and took a sip of his tea. “There have been murder cases popping up around Morioh lately.”

You nodded. “That’s right... I overheard it in the news. What has that got to do with you needing my help anyway?”

“We believe it’s the work of a Stand user.”

Frowning, you told him, “Jotaro, you can’t be serious. I told you guys that I’m done with all that Stand business.”

“I know. I’m working with a few others, but it’s better to have more seasoned people to help us with this.”

You slammed the cup down, face shadowed by your hair. “I can’t! Stands have caused me nothing but pain! I’m done with that Jotaro, that life is over for me.”

“Please,” Jotaro said. “I’m begging you, (y/n). I know it hurts, I feel it too. I spend nights remembering their deaths, it hurts so damn much.”

You paused as a lone tear trickled down his face. Jotaro never talked about his feelings and showed them even less. Even when they were close to bursting. He must’ve really been desperate. You sighed and blinked away your own tears. “Let me think about it,” you said, even though you knew what your answer was. Scribbling down your address, you handed it to him and said, “Come back tomorrow.”

Jotaro nodded and set the teacup down. You stood there alone in the backroom as he left. The chime of the bell was the only thing heard before the silence overtook your shop.

Well, time to get ready for tomorrow. Who knew what laid ahead.

The car rumbled as you stared out the windows at the familiar sights that passed you. Buildings that were still so similar despite the ten-year difference.

The old cream parlor. Whose maraschino cherries were something Noriaki often gushed about

That ramen shop that had great sushi. Something Avdol would’ve loved. Perhaps even Iggy too.

Next to you, Jotaro was focused on the road. You couldn’t help but scan his features over. Soft dark hair, a sharp jawline, striking aquamarine eyes. Perhaps Noriaki was right when he told you that you had a crush on Jotaro. You’d thought the feelings would have been gone by now, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, you supposed.

His phone rang, somewhere in his coat’s pocket, and Jotaro fumbled to take it out and answer it. “Dr. Kujo speaking,” he said. You watched as Jotaro shrank back from the multiple loud voices screeching over the speaker. “Yare yare daze, I leave you three alone for one moment, and trouble’s already found you. I’m only a few minutes away so try not to burn down my hotel room.”

Jotaro sighed as he hung up, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “People you working with?” You asked.

“You could say that. I’m more of a babysitter for them though.”

You shook your head. What the hell did you get dragged into now?

The car rolled to a stop in front of a hotel. “We’re here, let’s go.”

You grabbed your bag and followed Jotaro as he briskly walked through the lobby and up the stairs, questions in your head. What sort of people was Jotaro working with? Detectives? Criminal investigators?

Your expectations were quickly dashed when he opened the door to three teenagers. Two of them were sporting pompadours, though one had quite a sizable one. Both were screaming their heads off, trying to yank a jar off of the one with a smaller pompadour. The last one, who was comically short, was sitting in the hotel’s armchair, watching the chaos in front of him.

None of them heard you two enter, too stuck up in their troubles. They didn’t notice the dangerous aura Jotaro was giving off either. You looked at him and said, “Are you shitting me? Jotaro are these who you’re working with????”

The screaming stopped and all eyes zoned in on you. The previously screaming teens straightened up, hiding the jar behind their back. Jotaro gave a long-suffering sigh as he shut the door behind you two.

“Jotaro!” The one with the larger pompadour beamed. “Who’s this?”

“This is (y/n) (l/n). She’s a friend of mine and a former Crusader.”

You nodded at them. The shortest one stood up and walked to you, sticking out his hand. “My name is Koichi Hirose, nice to meet you.”

Taking his hand in yours you gave him a smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

The larger pompadour wearing teen pushed Koichi aside, grinning at you. “I’m Josuke Higashitaka, Jotaro’s uncle! That’s my friend Okuyasu Nijimura!”

You blanked. He looked seventeen at the oldest. How did he end up being Jotaro’s uncle? You squinted at him and then Jotaro, trying to pick out any similarities. “What the fuck happened when I was out?” You asked Jotaro.

“Joseph got busy,” was his reply.

Sighing you turned back to the teen and nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Josuke.”

Josuke brightened. “You said you were a former Crusader, right??? What was it like, traveling across Egypt???”

Oh god.

Nights under stars. Making fun of each other. Two limp objects and a canid body in Polnareff’s arms. A crumpled water tower.

You forced a smile to hide the inky blackness seeping through your heart. “It was hell and high heaven at the same time.”

Josuke frowned at the cryptic phrase but was stopped from asking any more questions when something shattered and Okuyasu screamed. You winced at the volume and wondered how Jotaro managed to work with them.

“Crazy Diamond!” Josuke yelled. A being appeared and you blanked.

His Stand...

Oh god oh god oh god.

You flinched as Jotaro’s hand came to rest upon your shoulder. He turned your attention away from whatever was happening with the teens. “Will you be alright?”

Swallowing thickly, you replied, “There’s... going to be some adjustments needed.”

He sighed a straightened up, walking to the now quieter teens and ushering them out the door. “Come back tomorrow,” he barked. “We’ll work on some more stuff next time.”

The door shut with a resounding slam, leaving peace and silence at last. You found yourself drawn to the balcony overlooking Morioh. Jotaro’s presence settled next to you and you two stared at the little town below.

“Josuke’s Stand...” you began tentatively.

From the corner of your vision, you could see Jotaro give a shart nod. “I know. I promise that it’s different from his.”

You nodded stiffly. “Alright.”

“Hey... do you want to go to that ice cream parlor we passed?”

Your heart clenched at the unexpected question. “The one that Noriaki swore up and down had the best maraschino cherries?”

There was the barest hint of a smile in Jotaro’s reply. “Yeah... we did promise to try it out when we got back. Never got around to it.”

“I’m in,” you agreed. “We do need to fulfill our promise after all.”

“Alright. We’ll head over there tomorrow, then we’ll get to work on the case.”

That was it for the conversation between you two as a breeze passed over the quiet bubble that had set in.

In that quiet, you couldn’t help but reminisce about those long gone.

[Zinnia is a symbol of endurance. It also symbolizes lasting friendships, goodness, and remembrance.]

#oh fuck oh god i’m crying #*ugly ass sobbing*#jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jjba reader insert #jjba fanfic #jojo part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #kujo jotaro x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jjba imagines #jojo’s bizarre adventure imagines #jotaro kujo #jotaro x y/n #my works #my writing compendium

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starkatana · 4 years

Text

All You Need to Know

Jason Todd X Female Reader

WordCount: 2813 (it’s long!~)

Summary: Jason proposes to you and you two have a smaller wedding with the BatFam in attendance at your Vegas wedding.

Author’s note: So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

They aren’t exact ages. This is just a world that I made using these characters because I can. In this AU, Jason has died and come back to life. You two broke up and you dated Peter Parker (Spider-Man) for a little bit. At this point, you and Jason are 24-ish?

You are a dancer who works at a dance studio.

Sorry if its a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that tumblr has given me.

I used this post from fandomneeds!

Jason’s vows is the song: All You Need to Know by Gryffin

Hope you enjoy!

Jason scratched his head and crumpled up the vows he was working on.

“Ugh.”

Roy peeked into Jay’s room, “Having a hard time?” He cocked a sarcastic smile at his best friend.

“Fuck. Every time I try to write something it seems just so stupid and cookie cutter.”

“Aren’t those what vows are? Just telling the person you want to spend the rest of your life with them sickness and in health blah blah.”

“Yeah.” Jason shrugged, “I have basic vows for the Gotham wedding, but for the wedding this weekend, I just want them to be different and less like everything else.”

“Well, what do you want to say?”

“Exactly.”

Roy laughed. “You’ve read a million books you’re telling me that you can’t string the most romantic scenes and moments together?”

Jason sat back in the chair.

“What does she need to know? What are you confessing in front of the hardest people you need to impress? Me and the rest of your siblings.”

“It's not for you guys. It’s for us.”

“Then what do you want to tell her?”

Jason sat back in his chair with his hand behind his head, remembering the evening he asked you to marry him.

It happened to be a night that you and Jason didn’t have patrol, so you two made a date night out of it. The two of you are sitting in a booth at your favorite local diner. You two managed to keep it a secret from everyone else in the Batfam so they wouldn’t just show up and surprise you two. It’s late at night and you two had been there so often that the wait staff had your orders memorized. He was sitting across from you with his arms outstretched over the back of the booth as he listened to you talk with a half-smirk on his face.

You were sitting back in your booth just going on about your students from the dance studio. He loved how passionate you were about your job and how much you cared for other people. You two had been through so much, even when he had been an ass to you. You somehow took him back after everything he said and put you through. He was grateful for that. Life made sense with you.

“Hello? Earth to Jason.” You were waving your hand in his face snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yeah! You were saying how you had to help some of your kids with their science and math homework and how you don’t miss science and math homework. Then you told me about the puppies you saw on your way to work today. And no, I still don’t think getting a dog is a good idea.”

“Okay, so you were listening,” you chuckle, “Sorry you just looked zoned out. I thought I was just rambling.”

“No.” Jason sits up leaning forward in the booth putting his hands on the table. “I like listening to you talk.”

You smile and instinctively lean into him as he takes on of your hands and with the other, you stir your milkshake. He gently rubs over your thumb. Basking in the comfortable silence and the background noise of the diner. Still holding his hand you sit back in the booth and close your eyes. If only every night could be this comfortable.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” You respond without opening your eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Will you marry me?”

You open an eye and take a peek at him. He was still sitting across the table from you. He hadn’t moved and was looking right at you.

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You chuckle. “Shut up.” You respond closing your eyes again.

“No, I’m serious.”

You take your hand back and sit up in the booth and stare at him half confused and half suspicious. You narrowed your eyes trying to gauge his reaction. Almost expecting him to go “Haha. Gotcha.” Or “I’m kidding.” You don’t know why he’d joke like that but you don’t know why he’d be asking you to marry him.

Marriage was something you two talked about but it was also something you two would just let happen when it felt most comfortable. You knew you wanted to be with him and he with you. So, you weren’t sure why you thought he was kidding.

“I know I don’t have a ring and I know I’m not down on one knee but I want to spend the rest of my life with you and after everything that happened I know you’re the one I want to spend my life with. I’m planning to get you a ring but I wanted to get you something with my money, not Bruce’s. I couldn’t wait to ask you.”

“Jay....”

“Do you want me to get on one knee? I will if you want.” he begins to stand up.

“No.” You grab his hand and set him back down, “No it’s okay. I’d love to marry you. I’ll happily marry you. No ring needed. No need to get on one knee.”

He squeezes your hand.

“Should we just run away?” He teased.

“And have Roy be our witness and third wheel forever?”

“And always.”

You two share a kiss across the table.

“I got it.”

You two decided to elope to Vegas. You two were going to have a real wedding soon where paparazzi would be “invited” your mom would be there and all your business colleagues, Wayne enterprises, socialites, and other Gotham elite it would be a wedding for everyone. But you and Jason wanted a smaller ceremony for the two of you first. What started small as in you, Jay, and Roy. Turned into a Batkid affair. So you, Jason, Roy, Dick, Duke, Tim, Damian, Cas, Steph, and Babs all flew out to Vegas. Your first day in Vegas while everyone was out walking around together around the Vegas strip. You and Jason decided on a small stage space close to the end of the “Venetian” river.

It was Vegas wedding day. Roy stood beside Jason. They weren’t wearing tuxes but they were dressed nicer. Jason had on black pinstriped pants, a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up with a black-tie done loosely with a black vest on. Roy had on black dress pants with a yellow dress shirt rolled up like Jason’s and unbuttoned near the top with suspenders on.

The two of them were making small talk, to help calm Jason’s nerves. The plan was for him and Roy to be there with the photographer before the impromptu wedding. Then the rest of the family would appear shortly after. Jason had his hands in his pant’s pockets and laughed at Roy’s joke.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“It’s not every day, I get to marry my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you cheat on y/n with me.”

Jason rolled his eyes at Roy. When Roy gave him a big smile and pointed behind Jay.

Jason turned around and Dick was leading the train of the Batfam. Jason tried to look past them all to get a glimpse of you, but they had you perfectly hidden behind them.

At this point, the passersby that were minding their own business began to stop and hang around, some kept minding their own business, while others were interested in the show. Dick greeted Jason first, he patted his shoulder, “Congrats, Little Wing.” Jason gave his brother a light punch in the arm and Dick moved aside. Following Dick was Tim who also gave him congratulations. Then there is Duke, where the two shared a hug. Cass was after and gave him a fake one-two punch in the gut followed by a hug. Next was Steph and then Babs, who he shared a hug with both of them.

“You’re in for a treat.” Steph teased.

Babs blew Jason a kiss and the two stood next to Cas.

Jason looked over at his family to the side of him. A lot has happened and they stood by him through it all. To have them all here, he was grateful. Then everyone looked over to where they came in. Little Damien, who is now 13 much more mature than the 8-year-old you had originally met. Damien loved you and thought of you as a big sister.

You planned to walk down the aisle yourself, but when Damien asked if he could give you away to Jason who were you to deny him.

You always knew Damien thought highly of you but one day after you and Jason had gotten back together after your hiatus apart. Damien lectured you left and right about how if Todd is ever a dick to you again he’d take care of Todd himself.

“Not if I handled him myself first.” You joked with Damien.

“Good.”

Then one day, you’ll never forget you were looking for Damien, but couldn’t find him in the manor. You walked outside onto the manor’s patio where Dick and Jason were sitting.

“Hey, do you know where Damian is?” you ask taking a seat next to Jason, “I can’t find him.”

“Yeah,” Dick nods, “Hold on, I got this.” He clears his throat. “DAMIAN! JASON IS BULLYING Y/N!!!”

Jason shook his head and looked at Dick, “Wait, what?!”

“Goddammit!”

You and Jason looked around and then up as Dick nodded proudly. Damien opened the window from the second floor in the manor and jumped out of it with a fighting stick. “TODD!”

Jason gets up from where he’s sitting and quickly runs out of the way, “GAAHH!!!”

You look over at Dick who nods and is giving you two thumbs up.

Back to the wedding:

Jason’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t believe that he was so lucky to have you. You were in a short spaghetti strap lacy white dress it hugged your body and your curves it had a slight v neck to it but wasn’t revealing. You wore your hair down nothing too fancy, just some soft waves and a baby’s breath crown on your head with your hair resting on your left shoulder.

You had a small light pink and black bouquet. Your shoes were a metallic white pearl shoe with skinny heel with a buckle around the ankle. It took everything in Jason not to just run over to you, sweep you off your feet and shower you in kisses. He was the happiest and luckiest man alive. The photographer was snapping pictures like crazy. When you left Alfred just asked for some pictures of the wedding, if Alfred wanted photos he was going to get them. No questions asked.

Roy nudged Jason. Jason nudged him back and couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Damien walked you up to Jason.

“Thanks, Dami.” And you two shared a hug.

Damien turned around and glared at Jason. “Todd.”

“Demon spawn.” He cracks Damian a half-smile.

“Don’t mess this up, again.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Damian nods and steps aside letting Jason know that he’s approved of you two together again. You give Damien your bouquet. He walks over next to Babs and Steph. Jason offered you his hand. You take it and he leans into you as he helps you up, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He stands up straight as you two take each other’s hands.

“Everyone is staring at us.”

“Everyone is staring at you.” Jason gestured, down to what you were wearing, giving you an ‘it’s definitely not me, it’s you’ kind of look. You smiled at him as you moved your hair out of your face and then take his hands again. He couldn’t stop smiling as much as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Looking at you like this was like falling in love all over again. This was happening.

“Hello, friends and family.” Roy began, “We are gathered here for the marriage of our beloved Y/f/n/ y/m/n y/l/n and our shit-eating boy, Jason Peter Todd.”

Everyone chuckles at Roy and Jay playfully flips him off.

“Now, the couple would like to say their vows.”

“Jason Peter Todd.” You began, “Where do I even begin with you. With us? Since my first day at Gotham Academy when you kept spilling coffee on me. We’ve unfortunately been best friends since. You’ve been my first choice always since we’ve met and since I’ve been with you I’ve never safer. From the highs and the lows you’ve been with me through it all.” You wipe one of your eyes, “I couldn’t imagine going through life with anyone else except for you. So, take me as I am because I have already taken you. I promise to always be by your side through anything the world may throw at us. I’ll protect you through it all.”

He brings your hands to his lips and kisses them.

“I guess it’s my turn.” He rolls his shoulders back while he stands up straight with your hands still in his. “Y/n.”

He looks around him, his brothers, and his sisters. The crowd that had gathered during your ceremony. The perfect weather and the beautiful bride he has. You were breathtaking. Looking at you, his heart skipped a beat.

Every. Single. Time.

He takes a deep breath before beginning.

“I’ll keep it as simple as I can.” He bites his lip, “Shit.” He wipes his eye. “How’d you do this without balling?” he joked.

You chuckle, “It was hard.”

“Ok,” he gives your hands another squeeze, “Y/n, you don't have to listen carefully, because I will tell you a thousand times. With your hands in mine, look at this thing we found. I have everything I need and I promise to give you everything you will ever need because you make me not want to die.”

You let out a chuckle and Roy rolled his eyes. Before you and Jason would say ‘I love you’ that’s what you’d say to each other, when you first started dating and when you guys got back together.

You’d be leaving the safe house for dance practice and Jason called after you, “Y/n!”

“What?”

He’d tilt his head and give you a soft smile, “you make me not want to die.”

You crack a smile and flip him off as he flips you off in return. You continue walking away and Jason can’t help but keep his eyes glued on you as you left.

“You two have the weirdest relationship.” Roy pretended to be disgusted.

“When you get sad like you do sometimes. Anything you feel. Put it all on me. All of your thoughts, I want everything. I’m letting you know, I’m going to be around.”

It had been months since you and Peter broke up and since you have decided not to take Jason back. You opened your eyes and started to cry. He was standing in front of you. “What happened to us?” You ask wiping away your tears.

He goes to step towards you and you back away making yourself smaller.

“Y/n.” He hesitates and puts his arms back to his side.

You don’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You look at him. Now he was crying, “I was wrong. You were right and I shouldn’t have done the things that I did but I did and I hurt you and I’m sorry. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore. I’m better with you than I am without you.”

“Jason...” you feel your chest tighten as more tears begin to fall.

“All I want to do is love you and if you don’t want to be with me. At least let me be around...again. I miss my best friend.”

You get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Where he wraps his arms around your body in a tight embrace.

“I never stopped loving you.” You cried. “I’m so scared and lost I don’t know what I want.” You begin to hiccup and Jason rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Sincerely. I promise I won’t ever be the reason you cry again.”

“I'll lift you when you're feeling low. I'll hold you when the night gets cold. Your fears and your thoughts, give me all of it. You'll never have to be alone and that's all you need to know.”

You wipe away your tears.

“I’m sorry.” Jason apologized.

You shook your head no, “Good tears.” He smiles at you and you both look over at Roy who smiling at them softly. He nods and breaks the silence: “Jason Peter Todd, you may kiss your bride.”

Jason cups your face as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss on the lips as the audience that has since gathered clapped and cheered but not louder than his and your family only a few steps away.

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swampofiniquity · 4 years

Text

Modern Chemistry (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

Part One of the new Point / Counterpoint series

Rated: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2,260

Cross-posted from AO3 (Pizza_Of_My_Eye)

Summary: Life sucks so you drag your best friend to a bar and attempt to drink your problems away. Probably not the smartest idea you’ve ever had, but you’ve had worse nights.

Warnings: Self-medication, some language, maybe not the most healthy friendship ever.

You relished the feeling of the alcohol rushing to your head as you stared into your now empty glass. It was smudged with your lipstick and fingerprints and the swirling patterns of each captured your drunken attention, the bar and your best friend’s voice melting into background noise as you zoned out completely.

Three drinks in and you were so close to achieving your goal of blissful inebriation.

“Y/N!”

You jumped, the volume of his voice calling out your name startling you out of your stupor. Judging by the annoyed furrow in his brow and the sharp clench in his jaw, it wasn’t Leon’s first attempt to get your attention. You closed your eyes and rolled your shoulders, trying and failing to nonchalantly force the bubbling pit of anxiety back down your throat.

God, you needed another drink.

You forced a smile and focused your increasingly blurry eyes on the man beside you. Even after five years of friendship, it was still surreal sometimes, seeing him outside of work and very nearly blending in with regular civilian life. To the untrained eye, he pulled it off perfectly, but you could tell by the way he sat - spine just a little too straight, feet planted a little too solidly, stool angled just right to keep the bar’s exits in clear view.

He had seen too much in his relatively short life to ever be truly relaxed in public again.

“You don’t have to shout; I’m right here,” you admonished, plucking the glass from his fingers and knocking back the remainder of his whiskey. You winced as the warm liquid burned on the way down.

“Are you?” he sniffed, clearly unconvinced, and flagged down the bartender for another round.

You shrugged, a little inelegantly from the three vodka cranberries you’d already killed that night, and swayed a little as you reached for the fourth when your fresh drinks were slid across the bar. Leon grabbed them both first and held them to his chest as he frowned at you again, his blue eyes narrowed in the low light.

You laughed, misreading his intentions completely, and the sound was harsh and overly loud as most drunken laughs tended to be. “Didn’t think mixed drinks were your thing, Leon.”

Leon’s lip twitched like he was fighting a smile, or maybe a sneer, but otherwise didn’t respond. After a moment, you whined impatiently, all your dignity pretty much checked out for the night at that point. You were about to make grabby hands for your drink when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, causing you to need to grab the bar for support. “Give it, Kennedy.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea.” The words sounded off, almost forced, like he was fighting his own teeth to get them out. “Why don’t switch to water for a while, sweetheart?”

“Jesus, what are you my dad all of a sudden?” You snorted. It was a throw away line, a joke so completely lacking in self awareness that it would have made your skin crawl had you been sober.

Leon licked his lips and leaned forward, crowding you so close you could smell his shampoo. “Dunno, you drinking to mask your fear of me too?”

You shouldn’t have been so shocked that he called you on it, because of course he did. He was one of the few people in the world with the security clearance to even know about your father, but, unsurprisingly, binge drinking to repress your rampant daddy issues also came with the side effect of being slow on the uptake. Was it really too much to ask of your friend to let you drink yourself into oblivion and ignore reality in peace?

The alcohol in your blood was enough to swing the irrational pendulum of your mood from shock to fury in record time.

Thankfully, the music was loud enough in the bar to cover the sharp crack of you slapping him hard across the face, a move you would come to regret by morning, but one that the rage burning hot through your veins had demanded in the moment. Whether or not he deserved to be on the receiving end of that rage wasn’t the point, not that you were in any sort of condition for nuanced introspection. The point was you were angry and scared and had finally been pushed too far.

Leon straightened on his stool, mouth agape and eyebrows up to his hairline. He hadn’t been expecting that. You had never hit him before, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t given you plenty of reasons to over the years. Hell, he had spent nearly the first full year of your acquaintance obnoxiously and endlessly trying to get you to sleep with him. He wanted to deck himself just thinking about it.

He sighed and turned to place the drinks back down on the bar, quickly scanning the room to check that nobody had witnessed your little scene. When he turned back around, he caught your arm raised to strike him again and pulled, knocking you off balance so that you had to hold onto his shoulder to stay on your stool.

“Fuck you,” you seethed too loud, struggling to snatch your arm free. Leon’s free hand shot out to your hip, countering your weight to prevent you from falling since you seemed alarmingly unconcerned with the way your actions were making your stool wobble.

“Oh so that’s not what you’re doing here then? Will ya quit trying to hit me, goddamnit , people are staring.”

“ Fuck. You .”

“Fine, I’ll just leave then. Good luck getting your belligerent ass home yourself.” He stood, but your hand on his shoulder latched onto his jacket lapel and you were pulled forward onto your feet. It could have been the abrupt movement or the new fear of him actually abandoning you in a dive bar or just another stupid drunken mood swing, but you could feel the rage start to drain from your body along with any energy left to keep yourself upright. Instinctively, Leon caught you against his body before you could crumple to the bar’s dirty floor like a stringless marionette.

You both stood there, pressed together and silent for a while. Almost an entire verse of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin” came and went over the speakers, and Leon started to worry that you might have fucking passed out on him until you heaved a deep breath and finally spoke.

“Leon…” you muttered, your face smushed against his chest.

He sighed again, his breath puffing out against your hair and sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. “What?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Don’t - please don’t leave me?” You shifted in his arms, winding your own around his waist and squeezing, either for reassurance or in an attempt to adhere yourself to him like a barnacle thus making leaving you impossible.

“You gonna hit me again?”

You shook your head and sniffed. “‘M sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, alright,” Leon replied and took his seat again, arms spread as if to say the floor was all yours.

You heaved yourself back up on your stool, still a little wobbly, but you waved off Leon’s move to help you. “But you shouldn’t have said that. It was fucking out of line and you know it.”

And there it was, the end of his rope. With how frustratingly evasive and cryptic you had been all night, he was surprised that he’d been able to make it as far as he did. You had called him to talk, not the other way around, and getting anything more than a despondent “I’m fine” out of you so far had been physically painful. Leon fought the urge to throw up his arms and scream at one of his few friends.

“What the hell do you want from me, huh? We’ve been sitting here for hours now on a fucking Tuesday night and you have yet to even allude to what’s bothering you. So, let me help you out and save the two of us some time, hmm? Your old man’s getting paroled and you’re scared.”

Leon’s threshold for being jerked around was normally pretty impressive - one didn’t get as far as he did in the DSO without willingly and exuberantly jumping through some pretty ridiculous hoops. He’d become an expert at playing the long game.

But his patience with you was always shockingly limited, despite his genuine affection towards you. Maybe it was because he knew you so well and expected more. Or maybe you were just the only person he actually let get under his skin and as such had a more direct line to his nerves. Leon really didn’t like to dwell on it.

The blood drained from your face, your mouth suddenly full of spit. You didn’t know if you were about to pass out or vomit or both as reality crashed back onto you with a vengeance. “How-” you croaked. “How do you even know that?”

“I keep an eye on you. Bad habit, I know, but I’ve been doing it for so long now that I can’t seem to help it.” His lips twitched into the barest approximation of a smile and you just blinked at him, stunned.

“Jesus, Leon, I don’t know whether to be touched or to slap you again. You keep an eye - do I even want to know what that means?”

“I don’t know, when you first told me about your father I pulled his file at the DSO’s office. The shit he did, what he put you through -” he paused, taking a moment to polish off the rest of his whiskey. “I didn’t - I couldn’t let anything like that happen to you ever again. In fact, that reminds me, I called in a favor with the DA’s office and had them draw up some papers for you to sign, restraining order and the like. I’ll have them sent to your office when they’re ready.”

You had forgotten how far up the ladder Leon had climbed. Mr. Right Hand of the President, having favors to cash in from the District Attorney. He’d come a long way from the sarcastic, reckless, young agent you used to bandage up after missions.

“I don’t… Leon -”

“Unless, do you want your own lawyer to handle things? Though with the way that clown bungled the parole hearing, I wouldn’t trust him with my dry clean- hey!”

He was cut off by you all but launching yourself off your stool and into his arms again. He caught you as you whispered, “I can’t believe you did all that…”

Leon let out a surprised, uncomfortable chuckle and pulled you more securely onto his lap. “Yeah, well you know me. Big fan of contingency plans. Hey, c’mon are you crying? Gorgeous, don’t - you don’t have to be scared, okay? I swear to you, if he comes near you, if he even thinks about trying to find you - he’s a dead man.”

It was said with the same sort of nonchalant certainty one usually reserved for low stakes, banal declarations like “it’s going to rain later” or “we should get Thai food for dinner” not promises of violence. A chill went down your spine as you were reminded of the fact that, for Leon Kennedy at least, being a thoughtful, caring person and being a killer weren’t mutually exclusive. It came with the territory of being an agent.

But what did it say about you that the first feeling at the thought of your own father dead at the hands of your closest friend wasn’t horror or revulsion, but gratitude?

“Thank you,” you murmured into his neck, struggling to compose yourself.

Leon shrugged, as best he could with his arms full of a weepy woman, and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I got your back, you know that. Now, can we be done with this crying shit please? You’re making the entire bar uncomfortable here.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, letting his expensive cologne and warm touch sooth you. It was remarkable how safe Leon made you feel after the tormenting trip down memory lane that had been your life since it was announced that the government was willing to support your father’s appeal for parole in exchange for information on his old boss. You had been so sure that you could do it alone and not let him get to you. But seeing that man again at the hearing, having to give another statement outlining the years of abuse and horror you and mother had suffered, only for it all to mean absolutely nothing. To have to see him walk free again...

It turned you right back into that terrified, weak little girl that you had fought so hard to put behind you. But being in Leon’s arms, knowing that you had his support, helped. Made you feel less alone and vulnerable. For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself actually start to relax as you finally let someone else shoulder a little bit of this burden that had been breaking you down.

“That’s my girl. We good now or are you going to continue using my favorite jacket as a snot rag?”

You let out a watery laugh and pinched Leon’s side, making him jump. “Asshole,” you muttered, hiding a genuine smile into his chest.

Leon laughed, smoothing the hair back from your face and titling your chin up until your eyes met his. “Let’s get you home, kid.”

#leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fanfiction #writing #resident evil fanfic #my first time contributing to this fandom #ahhh

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viltrumitesuperboy · 4 years

Text

Owl Letters Part 1 (Draco x Male Hufflepuff Reader)

This can be read even if you’re not a Hufflepuff. I know, “why the fuck is there another part” cause i’m a DUMBASS thats WHY. Used the italicised parts of the request. I will consider doing the second one in the future.

Here’s part 2.

Requested by: (draco) anon

1. Being sent/finding anonymous love letters & Draco reveals it’s him 2. Draco constantly winks and flirts with the reader in the great hall/class 3. Reader crushing on Draco, but refuses to admit it bc of Draco’s attitude towards others. He catches on & reveals a sweeter, gentler side

Word count: 1485

"Seriously, what are you looking at?"

You turn to your friend with a huff.

"Nothing! Just zoning out," you muttered.

"Does zoning out include thinking about Draco Malfoy?" Elliot snickered.

You glared at him, then looked back down at your book with a blush.

"Oh, I think (Y/N) fancies someone!" whispered your other friend, Violet, as she leaned over from the Slytherin table.

"Go back to your house before you get in trouble, Violet," Elliot hissed.

"Fine, but you know I can get in a good word with Malfoy. He and I are close," she boasted.

"But you make fun of him?" you questioned.

"And have you seen him retaliate?"

You and Elliot gave each other a shrug in agreement. You reached across the table and shooed her away, and she pushed off of the bench to go back to her spot. A professor turned towards her direction before she was seen.

"I don't know how she does it," Elliot growled. "I think she's the only person in the entire school not to get in trouble."

"You're forgetting the Mandrake incident," you supplied. "And potions. And when she sent Malfoy a Howler telling him that he left his book in the common room."

You and Elliot smiled before breaking into a fit of giggles, going back to your studies. Naturally, yours consisted of looking at Draco from your strategically chosen seat where he was in your line of sight. He was too busy either talking to his own friends or studying, but you hadn't realised that his friends were not and took notice in your staring.

"Malfoy, I think someone fancies you," Blaise mumbled, his eyes trained on his quill.

"Really? Is it your quill?" Draco replied sarcastically.

"Take a look at the Hufflepuff table."

Draco turned around and scanned the Hufflepuff table behind him from his left to right with a piercing gaze. His eyes landed on you, and you quickly looked ahead of you with a jerk of your head. You started to whisper to your friend, who he knew to be Elliot.

"(L/N)?" Draco scoffed. "You must be joking. He would never speak to me even if I tried."

"Maybe it's because you made fun of his friend Kingston," Pansy sighed.

"Since when?!"

"Since you said he was muggle-born and he came right back at you with his family of wizards."

Draco huffed, a light blush forming on his cheeks in embarrassment.

"I've changed. And not many families have wizards and witches of all houses. How was I supposed to know?"

"Maybe stop being such a bloody arse and judging people," someone said.

Violet dropped into the small spot between him and Pansy, who quickly moved over to make room.

"Look, Draco. For some reason, my friend really likes you. And I have a feeling you like him too, since he's probably the only person you've never even slightly insulted. It's possible he sees something under your rude facade. Figure it out."

Draco was silent as she returned to her spot, once again narrowly avoiding getting caught by a professor. His eyes trained onto your blushing form, watching as you magically sent a crumpled up paper at Violet's head. Pansy waved her hand in front of his face, and he snapped back into reality.

"What?!"

"I said, Blaise and I have an idea," she smirked.

Receiving letters was your connection to the outside world. As much as you loved Hogwarts, you needed to know what was going on outside of your studies. Your muggle family members kept your parents in touch with the muggle world, so your life still included making fun of the Kardashians and looking forward to the latest films.

A letter from your parents dropped onto the table in front of you, and you grabbed it in excitement. You opened it quickly and began to read it to yourself.

"Elliot, they said they have a gift for me! And after I haven't heard from them in weeks," you said.

"I got a dumb toy," he sighed. "Oh wait, that's for you."

You both laughed, and he put away his own things in the box as you looked at the stuffed toy.

"This niffler is adorable! I'm keeping it forever."

You hugged it to yourself with a smile, and stole a quick glance at Draco. He was facing your table this time, and you locked eyes with him. You both looked away almost instantly.

"Hey, Malfoy's watching me," you mumbled. "Do I look dumb with this toy?"

"No way. He's probably just wondering what it is, growing up in a world of magic. If he thinks you look dumb, he'll have to answer to me," Elliot vowed.

"And Violet!" Violet said, hopping into the spot next to Elliot. "Hey, looks like you have another letter."

One of the last few owls swooped down to drop you a letter. You watched it leave with the others. You picked up the letter and examined it, finding only your name on it.

"What if it's cursed? There's nothing on this."

"Just open it!" Violet said. "We'll be right here to protect you."

You gave her a look before slowly opening it. You breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened. The letter was well-written in a neat cursive, with clear ink lines from a new quill. It was pretty much just compliments for you and your dedication to learning magic. It warmed your heart and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.

"It's signed as a secret admirer," you said, showing it to Elliot and Violet.

"Wow, they sound dumb," Violet said without another thought.

"Stop, it's so sweet," Elliot scolded. "What if it's Malfoy?"

"It's not his handwriting," Violet said, still scanning the letter.

You and Elliot stared at her. You could feel yourself dropping a little, but not enough that they could tell.

"What? I get notes from him sometimes. And I'm not the one who has a crush on the most unlikeable wizard in all Hogwarts history."

"Hey, he is likeable!" you exclaimed defensively. "The main reason I like him at all is cause he really does care about people. I've seen it."

Elliot gave you a skeptical look, and Violet just went back to her seat. Eventually you had to leave the dining hall for classes.

When you started Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherins, you realised just how bad some students could be around animals. It was easy for you because you liked animals, but it seemed some people were really bad with them. More specifically, Draco Malfoy, who couldn't get near an animal to save his own life. He sat next to you that class, strangely enough, and you didn't speak to him because you didn't need to. Right after class, he stopped you as everyone was grabbing their belongings.

"(Y/N)? Do you mind if I could ask you for help? For this class?" Draco asked quietly.

"Malfoy asking for help? Your pride must be hurt," you quipped, giving him a small grin.

"Oh, it is. But I mean it," he muttered, tapping the strap of his bag.

You motioned him out of the classroom as you made your way to your own classes. You walked slowly with him, standing a bit to the side of the hallway.

"Start with your own companion. Bonding with whatever pet you have, magical or not, is the first step for any animal. Maybe give it something it'll enjoy, like some food. Meet me outside the Hufflepuff common room this weekend, and tell me how you've done."

You waved him off as you turn to go to your own class, knowing he went the other way after weeks of sharing the same class. You then caught up to Elliot to tell him what happened.

"I can't believe he asked me! And I didn't even act nervous!"

"Aren't you one of the top in the class?"

"Because everyone else dislikes animals of any sort, but that doesn't count!"

Elliot sighed and pat your shoulder, then his eyebrows furrowed. He pulled a piece of paper that wasn't in the main, larger pocket and handed it to you.

"This doesn't look like your handwriting."

You looked at it and read it quietly to yourself. It was addressed from the "secret admirer" and had more reasons as to why they liked you, which included your appearance as well as your personality and humour.

"There's something else in there," Elliot said, and pulled out a small container of Glacial Snowflakes.

"I love those!" you exclaimed, grabbing it and inspecting the packaging. "We should check if whoever gave this did something to it."

"That was my thought exactly," Elliot laughed, taking it from you carefully. "I'll let you know by the end of the day."

"Elliot, you're such a good friend."

"I'm your best friend. Now let's get to class."

#x male reader #male reader #draco malfoy x male reader #draco x male reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy

449 notes · View notes

fandomrewrites · 4 years

Text

Season 2; Episode 2: Shape Shifted

Hello all! I’m going to be updating every Monday starting the 17! I’m going on vacation the 5-12 which is the only reason why I will not be updating next week. If I have time I may post episode 3 tomorrow but I still have a lot to do before I leave on Wednesday. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and as always constructive criticism is appreciated!

Season 2; Episode 2: Shape Shifted

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,143

Season 2 Masterlist

Allison volunteered to pick Lydia and I up for school this morning. I sat in the backseat zoning out of the girl’s conversation. My mind was racing a mile a minute. I was ecstatic that my best friend was here and safe but I couldn’t shake the feeling that in the next few days a lot of bad things were going to happen.

“(Y/N/N)? (Y/N)!” I quickly whip my head around and make eye contact with Allison. “We’re here. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.” Allison nodded, then we opened the doors and stepped out.

As we were walking to the school entrance Allison asked Lydia, “You really don’t remember anything?”

“They called it a fugue state. Which is basically a way of saying ‘we have no idea why you can’t remember running around the woods naked for two days’. Personally, I don’t care. I lost nine pounds.”

I smile at my best friend’s confidence, “Well, I’m glad that you’re okay.”

We all pause at the entrance, “You ready for this?” Allison asks.

“Please. It’s not like my aunt was a serial killer.” My eyes widen at Lydia’s words. I quickly look at Allison and mouth ‘sorry’ before following Lydia through the open door.

As the heavy door falls shut behind us, the whole corridor becomes silent to stare at us. Allison awkwardly leans closer to us and whispers, “Maybe it’s the nine pounds.”

Lydia whips her hair around then with her head held high walks through the crowd, Allison and I by her side.

*_*_*_*_*_*

I sat next to Danny in Mr. Harris’ chemistry class, Scott and Stiles were in front of us, whispering as always. As I’m copying the notes that Harris is writing on the board Stiles leans back to ask Danny and I a question.

“Do either of you know where Jackson is?”

“I saw him heading to the Principal’s office with your dad.” I reply.

“What? Why?”

“Maybe because he lives right across the street from Isaac.” Danny replies.

Danny’s attention goes back to the board once Stiles turns around but I continue to focus on Scott and Stiles wondering why they are curious about Jackson’s whereabouts.

“Okay, everyone please turn to page-” Harris gets cut off as a crumpled up paper hits him on the back of the head. He turns around, glaring at the class, “Who the hell did that?”

Scott and Stiles point to each other, “Both of you go to the Principal’s office, Now!” I watch as they gather their bags and rush out the door. The minute the door is closed, I make a rash decision.

I quickly stand up and rush after the two boys, “Miss McCall!”

“Sorry, I need to pee!” I cringe at my lame and embarrassing excuse as I swing the door open and rush out before Harris can say anything else.

I catch up with the two boys before we reach the office. “Hey! What the hell is going on?”

Scott and Stiles jump at the sound of my voice, “Why are you-” I cut Scott off before he can finish.

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Scott sighs but answers, “Isaac’s dad was found dead. They think he was murdered. And Isaac is a werewolf.”

My mouth forms in ‘o’ as I take in the information.

We quickly make it to the office and wait outside for the conversation between the Sheriff and Jackson to be over.

Scott listens in and quietly tells us what’s happening. “Jackson knew that Isaac’s dad was abusing him.”

I instantly frown hearing this, poor Isaac. I never really talked to him but he always seemed so sweet. He didn’t deserve that.

“Isaac and his dad were arguing the night he was murdered.” Scott continues.

He straightens up when the conversation ends. Stiles quickly grabs a magazine and holds it up in front of his face, unsuccessfully hiding from his father.

“Hey there, Scott. (Y/N).” Sheriff Stilinski greets my brother and I.

We both smile and wave, watching as he walks away. I was about to follow after him, since I technically wasn’t supposed to be there but before I could move a voice stopped me, “Boys. Miss.”

My head turns towards the voice, Allison’s grandfather. I hover above the chair, halfway out of my seat. “I thought it was only the boys that got sent down. But if you’re skipping class I should probably talk to you too. Why don’t you wait out here?”

I awkwardly smile and sit back down as Scott and Stiles stand up to go into his office.

*_*_*_*_*_*

About ten minutes later, the door opens back up and Scott and Stiles exit. “He said you can go in.” Stiles says. Then he whispers, “Good luck.”

I stand and move to enter Gerard’s office, “Please shut the door.”

I do as he says then suck in a breath as I sit down in front of his desk. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N) McCall.” I quietly answer.

“Scott’s your brother? And you’re friends with my granddaughter Allison, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah,” I nod quickly. Just wishing this conversation would be over.

“So, (Y/N). Why were you skipping class?” He asks this as he’s digging through files. He finally pulls one out and before I can answer he continues, “You have good grades. Never really get into trouble. Why start now?”

“I was worried about my brother. I wanted to know what was going on.”

“You’re protective of him?”

I shrug, “I guess. I mean, he’s my twin. I would do anything for him.”

“I don’t want to be the enemy, Miss McCall. And since you don’t get in much trouble, I’ll let you off with a warning. But I don’t want to see you skipping class again.”

“I won’t. Thank you, Principal Argent.” I stand up and quickly walk out the door before he change his mind.

After I quickly left his office I checked the time realizing that there was only about ten minutes left of class. So rather than spending that time in Chemistry I decided to wander around the school until the next period.

*_*_*_*_*_*

After school I went to Lydia’s so we could work on homework together. “So tell me, how are you really feeling after everything?” I asked as we lay on her bed, a bowl of fruit between us.

Lydia hums before answering, “I don’t know. I’m glad that I’m back and that you and Allison are still treating me the same. It just feels like everyone else thinks I’m so freak.”

“You’re Lydia Martin. Don’t let other people’s unimportant opinions bother you. The people who really care about you know that you’re amazing and that you’re just going through a lot right now.”

Lydia lightly smiles at me, showing her vulnerable side that she only ever shares with me. We both turn back to our homework, but not even a minute later the strawberry blonde speaks once more, “I talked to Jackson today.”

“Yeah?” I ask, “What about?”

“I just wanted to thank him. The doctors said if it wasn’t for him finding me and carrying me back I would have died that night.”

I nod, “What did he say?

Lydia scoffed, “He’s an ass. I just- I still love him and I hate that I do.”

I bit my lip, “I know that feeling.” Lydia turns her head at my words. Both of us study the others face trying to read our emotions, “But hey, we’ll always have each other. And with you by my side, I know I can get thorough anything.”

Lydia’s smile grows as she lightly shoves my shoulder, a laugh falling through her lips, “Damn right, (Y/N/N).”

*_*_*_*_*_*

“Hey, Stiles just picked me up. Do you know what’s going on?” I asked Allison as I put her on speaker so Stiles could hear.

“They were asking me all these questions about Lydia and how she was bitten by Peter. And then they sent this guy out,” Stiles quickly interrupts her.

“What guy?”

“He was dressed as a Sheriff’s Deputy.”

“They’re sending him to the station for Isaac.” I say more to Stiles then Allison.

“He was also carrying this box and there was something on it. Like a carving.”

“Do you know what the carving was?”

“Hold on. It’s in one of the books. I’m taking a picture.”

I look at my phone waiting for the picture to load, Stiles keeps glancing down to see the picture too, “Wolfsbane.” We say together.

“What does it mean?” Allison asks, not understanding.

“It means they’re going to kill him.” Stiles sighs as I sink back into the passenger seat.

We hang up with Allison, she has a plan to hopefully slow down the hunter. As she does this, we quickly head to Isaac’s to pick up Derek.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Now in the backseat of the jeep, I eagerly wait for Allison to call me. Phone in hand, the loud ringtone makes me jump. I quickly answer with shaking hands, once again putting her on speaker, “Did you slow him down?”

“You could say that.”

“Okay, we’re headed to the station.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“Isaac’s.”

“Does he have a plan?”

I exchange a look with Stiles before I can decide what to say he answers, “Yeah. But not a very good one. And unfortunately, we don’t have time to come up with anything better.” Once again we hang up with the young hunter.

Finally approaching the police station, Derek, Stiles and I look through the windshield forming a plan. “The keys to every cell are in a password-protected lock box in my father’s office.” Stiles explains.

“How are you getting in the lock box?” Derek asks.

“My father’s got two passwords. My birthday and my mom’s birthday. The problem is getting past the front desk.”

“I’ll distract her.” Derek nods.

Not liking this idea Stiles starts to protest, “Woah, woah, you? You can’t go in there.”

“I was exonerated.”

“You’re still a person of interest.”

“An innocent person.”

“You? Yeah, right.” I instantly punched Stiles’ arm. He glares at me before bringing his attention once more to the Alpha who starts talking again.

“You’re not getting in there without me.”

“Okay. What’s your plan?”

“To distract her.” Derek says once more.

“How? By punching her in the face?” I roll my eyes at Stiles. This is taking too long.

“By talking to her.”

“Oh, obviously. Because when I think of diverting conversation or stimulating banter I think of Derek Hale.”

Derek glares at him. “At least give me a sample. What are you going to open with?” Derek stays silent and continues to glare.

Before Stiles can continue his rant I interrupt, “He’s obviously going to flirt with her.”

Both guys turn to look at me, Derek with raised eyebrows and Stiles with a puzzled look. “What?” I turn my attention to Derek, “You’re an attractive guy, it will work. Now can we go? We’re wasting time.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Derek makes his way into the station first to distract the deputy. Stiles and I inch our way past the front desk as quickly and quietly as possible. Once we make it into his dad’s office Stiles punches in the password to open the lock box.

“The keys are gone.”

“What?” I turn, confused.

“The keys. They’re not here.” I rush to Stiles side to look into the lock box, seeing that it is empty. We make our way out to the hall, Stiles points toward the left, “You go that way, I’ll go the other. Meet here in 10 minutes.”

I nod and we take off. I quietly make my way through the seemingly empty halls of the station, trying to find Sheriff Stilinski. I turn a corner and crash into a strong chest, “Sorry!” I squeak, glancing up to see Derek, “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Where’s Stiles?”

“The keys were gone. We split up to find his dad or whoever took the keys.” I started walking back the way I came so we could find Stiles. Just as we pass the Sheriff’s office, the fire alarm starts blaring. Derek and I share a look then rush to find Stiles.

Derek leads the way using his heightened werewolf sense to pinpoint exactly where he is. As we turn the corner, Derek lightly pushes me behind him, “Stay here.”

Of course I don’t listen, I slowly make my way into the room to see Stiles cowering on the floor and a deputy knocked out. Derek howls at Isaac, effectively making the teenager change back into a normal boy.

I look on in amazement as Stiles asks, “How’d you do that?”

“I’m the Alpha.”

#teen wolf imagine #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine

28 notes · View notes

valkyrieofsmut · 4 years

Text

Captive Love 5

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: (Y/n)'s day at the skelebro's house, Sans' day out.

A/N: So, in this chapter, we find out that (Y/n)'s soul trait is integrity; honesty and strong morals. The only problem with having integrity as a main soul trate is that, because you're so honest, even if you don't want to trust people, you can have the tendency to believe people easier, because you expect others to mean what they say as much as you do. Even extremely smart beings with the trait can second guess their instincts or have them overwritten because the person lying is someone they (want to) trust or have positive feelings about/ for. Based on the note... can you guess what's going to happen in this chapter... lol Also, sorry, guys! I kept trying to get this to post all day, but I guess that tumblr hates long posts...? Or me... Might just be me... lol.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Story

Little lies never hurt anyone.

Sans leaned on the counter of the odd and ends shop, though it should rightfully be called a thrift shop, since most of its contents had come from other people and not “sources” like a normal store.

“You got a friend you’re buyin’ all this stuff for?” The bunny on the other side asked suggestively.

Sans gave her a smirk. “what’d make ya think that?”

“Well, you haven’t flirted with me once since you walked in the door,” she hinted.

“ah, sorry, doll. jus’ a lil distracted fer a sec, thinkin’ a comin’ in... did ya want ta hop on th’ sans express an’ ride it ta th’ bone zone?” He asked with a heavy handed lewdness.

Honestly, he’d rather spend the time with his sweetheart, but he had to keep up appearances so that no one got suspicious.

Plus, awkward sexual tension filled innuendos were easier to deal in than talking about feelings and shit.

The bunny gave a giggle and continued to lean over the counter toward him instead of going to get his requested items. “Still as charming as ever, I see.”

Sans flashed his smirk again. “so, can i get my stuff?”

The bunny giggled again and with a wiggle of tail asked, “so, does that mean that you’re thinking of getting a pet? Going to go out and take one?”

He let out an annoyed sound. “can i jus’ get my fuckin' stuff?”

She looked a little startled by the suddenness of the change, but took it in stride as it wasn’t really so strange for the former Underground citizens to be testy, and turned to go to the back.

"So," the bunny’s brother asked as he brought the requested items out a moment later, "you gonna wear these, then?"

Sans sneered at him. "you wish ya freak."

"A little too much denial…?" The bunny suggested with a smirk.

Sans gave a disgusted face. "go fuck yerself." He turned, flicking his fingers and letting his magic tug on the piles of stuff on the shelves above the bunny's head. "get dunked on, ya ass hat," he called back over his shoulder.

“aww, ya ain’t seen nothin’ at all?” Sans asked with a suggestive grin to the small cluster of spider ladies selling their baked goods in the corner of the bar. "'s a human, hard ta miss..."

“Ooooh, no,” one hummed.

“No, not anything… Do you wanna buy a croissant, Sans? It tastes soooo good with mustard…” another tempted.

“heh. ‘d rather have somethin' a lil sweeter on my tongue,” he insinuated, thinking of (Y/n) at home, spread across his bed, his tongue tasting all sorts of things…

Drool was slowly pooling between his sharp teeth, and he quickly wiped it, giving an internal groan at how fast his cock had risen to attention at the thought.

He needed to get with his sweetheart quick, even just enough to curb the appetite growing inside of him.

The spider girls giggling brought him back to the present. He flashed a grin and went to the bar, getting a mustard to drink as he continued around, checking everyone for info.

After the rest of his rounds, he headed to his last few information gathering contacts. The ones he knew couldn't keep their mouths shut.

(Y/n) didn’t know what to do. She was stuck in this house, not able to leave, not much to do, nowhere to go.

Sans’ room was messy, her clothes were dirty, it wasn’t even lunch time…

First, she went to the bathroom and washed her clothes in the tub the best she could, cleaning herself as much as possible in the process, hanging them to dry so she could have something clean to go home in.

Then, she went back to Sans’ room, looking around. She couldn’t read any of the books on the shelf, seeing that the words were all written in a strange sort of glyph, and remembered that Sans had told her he couldn't read human language, but as she put all the books on the shelves, she saw the covers had various strange pictures, outerspace, numbers, shapes, most of them looked like school books, but, like they’d be for some advanced courses. She flipped through the pages of a few of them and saw all sorts of charts and formulas that looked reminiscent of something she’d seen on a tv show with Neil deGrasse Tyson as the host. Very smart… and science-y…

(Y/n) put them on the shelves, trying to keep them together as best she could. Some of the books were obviously not… string theory… or whatever the hell the others were… but, novels or something, a few of them she had only a vague idea, having to make a guess that one with a simple cover of a monster laughing at a casket and a crowd laughing at the two was either a black comedy novel, or a book of dark jokes.

She leaned toward the dark jokes.

Under his desk, she found a folded up paper and opened it, trying to see if it was important, though she'd really have no idea, and saw that it looked like some sort of congratulatory certificate. High school diploma, maybe?

After she got everything sorted, she tried to put it with other things that looked the same.

She went out into the rest of the house and found a garbage can under the extra tall sink cabinet, and took it up Sans' room, only throwing away things that were obviously trash; food wrappers, crumpled up bits of paper, other strange little things that might have been dried lava, or eternally frozen snow… any way, they were things that looked like they had fallen from his shoes.

When she took the garbage can back down, she found something that looked like it might be a vacuum, and she looked at it, turning it around and pressing the buttons to see how they worked without any power, before sticking it back in the closet and pulling out the broom and dust pan.

Sweeping was better than nothing… and also better than blowing up the house.

The next task (Y/n) tackled was sorting out the laundry, though she couldn’t find any washer or dryer to clean them in. Maybe they made laundromat trips?

After that she figured it was about lunch time, so she dug through the fridge and ate a small portion of the lasagna from the night before. It wasn’t the worst she’d ever had, but it was far from the best. Maybe if she hid some of the spices he’d used that should have stayed out of the mix, like sage, paprika, cinnamon, nutmeg… really, she thought maybe he’d just put some of everything in the spice rack in there.

She tried turning on the tv and entertaining herself, but the only channels they seemed to get all had the same robotic actor on them, overdramatically giving monologues, "hosting" or cooking things- awful things… that’s probably where Sans’ brother had gotten the recipe for the lasagna…

She turned it back off, and decided to look through the windows to try to get an idea of the area she was in. Knowing that she was at least supposedly in danger, and most likely truly could be, she only peeped from the edges of the window for the first few minutes, but after noticing that there didn't seem to be anyone or anything outside but tall grass and flowers, she just looked through it normally.

I thought they said we were in monster territory…?

(Y/n) put a hand over her face. What if they were all the way on the other side of the monster territory? She certainly couldn't find any landmarks that looked familiar, and the tall buildings usually on the horizon seemed to be missing.

Only more support for her 'Sans is actually a nice, though perverted, guy' theory…

She sighed and decided to go look out the windows in Sans' room, thinking that maybe she'd see something familiar from higher up.

(Y/n) was standing at the window, wondering what kind of flowers were in the field, when the door opened. She, of course, expected it to be Sans, this being his room and all, but the blood drained from her face was she saw the tall skeleton in the doorway.

"HUMAN, I THOUGHT YOU WOULD PROBABLY GET HUNGRY, AND I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D BE ABLE TO FEND FOR YOURSELF," he shouted, sounding extremely put upon. "AND I KNEW SANS WOULD BE TOO LAZY TO REMEMBER TO FEED YOU, SO I- WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?" He asked suspiciously, cutting himself off before getting to his point about how much of a hassle it would be if she died from starvation.

Her color had gotten paler when she'd seen him, and her eyes had started darting around the room, as though taking stock of what she could use as a weapon. Papyrus automatically did a check and found that not only did she have a blue soul, denoting her strong integrity, but it seemed to have a bit of a purple glow around the edges showing her perseverance, looking a bit like blue velvet; blue, but purple in the shadows caused by the texture, and she had an extremely low LOVE, around that of a child's, and was surprised that her desire to find a weapon went so against her stats.

It must be a survival tactic, then. Probably to defend against any oncoming attacks.

She posed no threat to him, but he applauded her instinct to be ready to fight if necessary.

She swallowed harshly and managed to rasp out a broken whisper. "Loo-n- ou-si-." She pointed out the window to try to help him understand what she was saying.

He seemed to have dismissed her, though, looking around the room. "OH MY GOD!!"

She jumped at his exclamation. Did she do something wrong by cleaning?

"THIS IS THE CLEANEST I'VE SEEN MY LAZY BROTHER'S ROOM SINCE WE MOVED IN!! BUT, WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THE LAUNDRY? IT'S JUST SITTING HERE IN PILES."

"C-ou-... cou-n't fi-d," she rasped, shaking her head nervously apologetic. Her hand went to her throat, and the way she winced showed how hard on her throat just getting that much out was.

Papyrus hummed, his fingers lifting to his chin. It would make sense that she wouldn't wash them if she couldn't find anything to do it with. "FEAR NOT, HUMAN! I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, WILL SHOW YOU WHERE THE WASHING MACHINE IS! AND HOW TO USE IT!!"

(Y/n) opened her mouth to object that she did know how a washer worked, but it didn't matter, because he had just turned and started out the door with, "COME, HUMAN, AND BRING A PILE OF LAUNDRY!!"

After having the instructions on how to use the machine yelled at her, for no particular reason, she was glad that it had been Sans that had found her, and that Papyrus had only come to check on her and would be leaving soon. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to stay in his presence without constantly being on the edge of a panic attack.

When she came back into the front room from where the laundry room was, behind a hidden door in the kitchen, Papyrus was standing a little awkwardly near the door.

"W-WELL… I CAN'T SPEND ALL DAY MAKING SURE THAT YOU DON'T DIE! I HAVE TO GO! …" He stood silently for another moment, then announced, "I'M GOING."

(Y/n) gave a smile and waved, the most she could do without hurting her throat further or risking offending him, and had to hold back a laugh as the start of a red glow touched his cheeks and he looked flustered for a millisecond before he gave a tug to straighten his outfit before he turned and walked out through the door.

After Papyrus left, (Y/n) mostly just hung around and did laundry, looking through things, but not finding much for her to do until she found a deck of cards, then she sat on the floor and played solitaire, pausing only when the laundry was done, to fold it and put it on the desk chair, not wanting to dig around in Sans’ drawers.

He was a guy… guys had… stuff … that she’d rather not stumble across… especially due to the strange things that had apparently turned him on before. Also, being a skeleton monster made him different from every other guy she'd known, and the thought of finding super weird fetish stuff that she'd inevitably be morbidly curious about gave her pause.

She wasn't a "freak" but… curiosity was something that had gotten the better of her before, and some things in life, you just didn't need to know.

(Y/n) had finished the few loads of laundry, folded them, and turned to just playing card games by herself on Sans’ bed by the time the door opened and Sans walked in, looking tired and sweating a weird sort of translucent, but red tinged, perspiration.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him before looking up, but then froze in place and swept his shocked and slightly horrified gaze around the room.

For the second time that day, she wondered if she'd done something wrong by cleaning Sans' room.

He stiffly walked to the chair and pushed the laundry off onto the floor.

(Y/n) made an indignant noise from the bed, but heard him mutter, "too clean…"

Ahh, so he's one of those people who need a little disorder to feel comfortable , she noted, feeling the anxiety leaving her as he tossed his coat on the chair and turned to her.

He smiled and lifted a bag onto the bed. "i, uh- i uh- gotcha some stuff…" His expression shifted to that angry sort of flustered look he'd had before, paying close attention to how his other hand was fiddling with the edge of his red sweater. "somethin' ta wear, s-so ya don't have ta keep wearin' dirty clothes…"

Sans glanced over at her and felt another pang in his chest at the beautiful smile she was giving him.

fuck-! so adorable! an'... why d'i feel disappointed that she's not wearing my clothes, now?

(Y/n) smiled at him, mouthing thank you . She hesitated before nervousness seemed to grow over her a little and her gaze focused on the bed.

“wassup, sweetheart?” He asks, feeling a bit nervous about what was on her mind.

She gestured, asking, can I go home? She immediately winced and glanced up at him then back to the bed, as though she were worried he was going to hit her.

Sans felt his soul throb painfully at the thought of her leaving, and his hand automatically went to it. He realized what he was doing, and changed the movement to scratching his sternum through his sweater. Luckily, he had a reason for her to stay. He move the bag onto the floor, then sat on the mattress and laid back with his shoulders about even with her, making himself comfortable as he told her, “i talked ta alla my contacts, an’ it sounds like no one knows ‘xactly where ya are, but they definitely know that there’s a human on monster turf.”

Her brow dipped in confusion and she asked, how?

Sans shrugged as he put his arms behind his head, his fingers running over a crack on the back of his skull. “dunno fer sure-” ok, it might have been from his asking so blatantly if anyone had seen a human around- “but i hadda getcha here somehow. coulda jus’ been spotted on th’ way. tough luck, but, should be good in two or three days. ‘f we wait fer three, they’ll most likely ferget ta be lookin’ fer ya.”

(Y/n) eyed him, and he was glad that he’d already been sweating so that she hopefully didn’t notice the fresh round of perspiration beading on his skull. Finally, she seemed to accept it, and he let out an internal sigh of relief.

“so, you, uh, ya have an ok day?” She gave a half nod half shrug. “noticed ya cleaned up ‘round here… an’ i appreciate th’ thought behind it, sweetheart, ‘s real sweet a ya, but, i gotta ask ya; please don’t. kinda wigs me out when ‘s too clean. like it’s a fake fuckin’ storybook,” he muttered.

She put a hand on his arm, and it felt like Sans’ soul tumbled around his rib cage. He looked up to see the apologetic look on her face. Sorry...

Apologies? Yeah… Those were something that never happened in the Underground.

In a kill or be killed world, any sign of niceness was seen as a form of weakness, so niceties had been dropped long ago.

The way his sweetheart was so nice, showing kindness and caring was definitely something he liked about her, but… it also made him uncomfortable.

Sans would never turn away from her for her weakness, he wanted to protect her, keep her with him and safe. But… he didn't know how to react to this kindness. So he again took it to a place he was more comfortable with.

“ah, dollface, don’t worry ‘bout it…” He turned and his thumb went out to run down her cheek, trying not to let the tiny flinch get to him. “if it’d make ya feel better, i know somthin’ ya could do ta make it up ta me…” He gave her a smirky grin and took his hand back, putting a fingertip on his cheek. “how ‘bouta kiss?” He watched her gaze turn wary, her body stiffening like she was getting ready to bolt.

False, flirty affection and innuendo was so much easier to handle than real affection, even if he wanted her affection like a starving man wanted food. It seemed, though, that she knew how to take flirting about as well as he knew how to take a compliment, so he again changed directions.

“kiddin’- ‘m kiddin’, doll,” he assured quickly, feeling a prick of pain in his soul. He was not kidding. He'd probably do anything to get her to willingly kiss him again. “heya, knock knock.”

She looked at him uncertainly, but lifted a brow and tilted her head. Who’s there?

“sherlock,” he told her, watching as she puzzled over it.

Sherlock who…? Seemed to be what she asked with her confused expression after a moment.

“ sherlock yer door tight, sweetheart,” he told her, watching as her eyes closed as she took it in, then her posture changed as she silently chuckled.

Sans’ smile widened in satisfaction that she enjoyed his joke. “knock knock, doll.”

She lifted her brow to ask who's there, but it was the cute little smile on her face that made his soul throb.

“mustache,” he told her, watching her expression contort in confusion.

Mustache? Can skeleton monsters even grow mustaches? What the hell? She thought and tilted her head inquiringly.

“ mustache ya a question, but i’ll shave it fer later,” he told her with a blow off expression, watching her giggle as squeaks and huffs left her.

There… that adorable expression on her face was a much better look than her being worried that he was going to do something unpleasant to her. Even if the worry was justifiable, given his track record concerning her…

He just watched her giggling for a moment, red spreading over the bridge of his nose.

She tapped her hand to his arm and managed to ask, you know a lot of knock knock jokes?

“knock knock,” he told her in answer, and she lifted a brow immediately in question. “rhino,” he told her.

Oh, this one had to be good. She tilted her head and lifted her brow again.

“ rhino every knock knock joke there is,” he told her, his grin getting a bit goofier at her reaction. Stars she was cute! “so, what else d’ja do?”

(Y/n) wondered if it was something normal for monsters to talk so comfortably with someone they’d only really just met the day before. It really seemed like some ideal relationship situation from some rom-com; he got home from work, told her about his day, asked about hers… The only thing missing was an actual relationship…

She masked the feelings her internal musings brought up with the ease of practice and gestured around the room. She was good at ‘don’t rock the boat.’

“jus’ this, huh?” He asked and she nodded before pointing at the cards, indicating that she'd also played cards. “sounds like a good day ta me, but maybe ‘m jus’ lazy,” he said as he closed his eye sockets. A contented smile tilting his normal grin up. “‘m gonna try ta get a nap in before dinner. feel like joinin’ me?”

(Y/n) shook her head to answer him, knowing he could see her though his slightly open socket.

“suit yerself, sweetheart,” he told her, shifting his shoulders as he got comfortable.

He seemed to almost immediately fall asleep, soft snores coming from him, and not even reacting when she’d waved her hand in front of his face.

She went back to her card game, the weird feeling of being so comfortable around a strange man (one that had pushed her against the wall and basically rubbed against her, no less!) struck her as wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to be truly uncomfortable.

Uneasy and worried from his actions sometimes?

For sure.

Uncomfortable?

Nope.

Something brushed against and down her back, laying against her butt.

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder, seeing Sans' arm laid out behind her. She watched him closely, not wanting to miss any tell in his expression, but other than slightly rolling toward her, he still seemed asleep.

She gave a doubtful glance, but it fell to the back of her mind as she continued her game.

After a few minutes, she felt Sans rolling toward her more, his hand sliding over the bed, snaking over her thigh, wrapping around her waist and burying his face against her thigh.

Oh, yeah. He's asleep, my ass, she mentally grumbled.

She rolled her eyes and went back to her game, not entirely comfortable with this extent of touching, but she knew that some good friends got touchy and cuddled, so it wasn't some insanely strange concept to her, even if they weren't that close.

Halfway through the next round of her game, (Y/n) felt Sans' arms tighten around her, and she looked down to see him rolling over onto his stomach, putting him on the cards and into her lap, his head awkwardly pressing against her.

She tried to shift around to get rid of the discomfort of his skull pressing against her hip, and the weird kink he'd put in his neck vertebrae to do so.

Of course, with all of her edging around his head, and their shifting around, she ended up laying back with him in her lap, his skull laying on her stomach. How could this end any other possible way with her luck?

Honestly, though, with all the terrible things he could possibly do to her, that she knew of and worried about, laying with his head on her stomach hadn't even made the list.

She gave a shattered, huffing sigh that made her cough a little, but it cleared quickly.

She kept herself ready in case she was going to have to defend herself from the skeleton, but folded her arms over her chest to feel like she had at least a little cover, and resigned herself to laying there until either he "woke up," or she had to convince him to move so she could use the bathroom.

Sans tightened his arms around his sweetheart as she coughed, hating that he didn't have green magic to try and fix it instantly, but, thankfully, it quickly ended.

He tried to be subtle, not wanting to give away that he was awake, but it was so hard when all he wanted to do was nuzzle into the soft squishiness of her belly. Especially when some of her squishiest bits were against his clavicle and were tempting him to rub against them… and give them a sniff…

fuck- ya smell so fuckin' good, sweetheart… He mentally groaned to himself.

(Y/n) shifted under him, but he didn't let it disturb him; he was an expert at pretending to sleep.

"SANS-"

The skeleton on her belly jumped at the loud voice, giving a grunt of surprise.

"YOU BETTER BE DOWN HERE IN FIVE MINUTES TO EAT DINNER!!"

"paps, you fuckin' sonuvabitch," he grumbled to himself, not quite audible to (Y/n).

"welp. dinner time, doll. you joinin' us downstairs 'gain t'night?" He asked as he sat up, not leaving the bed, or her pile of cards, but off of her.

She gave him a nervous look, not wanting to be afraid, but also very afraid of the tall, loud skeleton downstairs.

"aww, c'mon sweetheart, he ain't that bad. i mean, don't get me wrong, 'e's bad, but not that kind a bad."

As strange as it was for her to trust anyone so quickly, his words kind of made her feel better about being in the same room as the taller skeleton.

She followed him downstairs, deciding that she was misreading the look on his face and posture as content and proud, as though she trusted him to be her knight in a red sweater; it was probably just self confidence.

God knew she'd never felt that much of it to know.

Sans pulled out a chair for her, but instead of waiting to push her in, he sat in the chair next to it and shifted the seat, pulling it closer to him when she sat.

(Y/n) would protest, but she really did feel safer being closer to him, and farther away from the other skeleton.

He served her a small slice of lasagna, and she knew that it was because he knew it was going to taste awful, and he didn't want to stick her with too much to eat instead of a plot to starve her.

It was a quiet dinner, much the same as the night before, with the toe of Sans' sneaker hitting the leg of her chair he was so close, and Papyrus giving her not at all hidden suspicious glares, as though he didn't think it was safe to hold a conversation in front of her.

(Y/n) took another bite of the lasagna and hid her wince.

She really should have hidden those spices earlier…

A/N: Oh Sans... there's a difference between telling Paps that he's an amazing cook and telling (Y/n) she has to stay there because there's no possible way she can get home. Also, I recently got a message from someone who had made fanart of another story I wrote and asked if I wanted to see it- uh, fuck yeah, I do! You kidding?! You were inspired by something I wrote?! I'm gonna fangirl... I love it even more because I can't draw... I guess what I'm saying is that if you do anything inspired from something I've written (art, stories, drabbles), you don't have to ask, there's a 100% chance I want to see it. And that I'll squeal.

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