#so I might just sleep in and pretend I overslept

[oliversrarebooks]

roger, whats it like being fitz's thrall? (aka how does it feel to be living my dream... im not jealous... totally not living vicariously through you...)

Masterlist

January 1922

TW: mind control, conditioning, blood drinking mentions of past abuse, fear of death

"You have to get up, sir." 

Roger gently shook the lump of tangled blankets and sheets that most likely contained a vampire at its core. The only real indication that his master was within was the soft groan from inside, a mumble that sounded a lot like "leave me alone."

"I can't leave you alone, sir. You have a show at 7, remember? If you don't rise and shine soon, you won't have enough time to do your hair and makeup and make it to the theater."

"Uggggggh. Why'd I schedule a show so goddamned early? What is wrong with me?" The pile of blankets huddled in on itself more tightly.

"...I suspect there may be several things, sir," said Roger, unable to resist the obvious opening and knowing that a bit of banter might put his master in a better mood. "Regardless, you did schedule the show, and you do need to leave the house for it."

"Horrible. Torturous. Excruciating." The bedclothes rustled, and Fitz poked his head out just enough to take a look. "It's so early that the sun is leaking around the curtains! The sun could kill me, Roger, you can't expect me to get up in those conditions. I could die."

"I believe that's what the curtains are for, sir. To prevent you from dying when you're unjustly forced to wake up during the day." Roger sat down on the side of the bed. He'd done this often enough to know when he was in for the long haul, and he was quite capable of patience -- a good quality to have when serving Fitz. "You were looking forward to this show, weren't you? It's a large venue, and you have your new rotating box trick."

"Mmm."

"I'm sure it will go over splendidly, sir, and you'll be afforded all the praise and applause you deserve," he said. Cheap flattery rarely failed to soften his master's mood. "Aren't you looking forward to seeing the looks of delight on your audience's faces when you perform your new trick? And besides that, aren't you looking forward to being paid?"

Fitz seemed to be lowering both his blankets and his guard. "I suppose so..."

"Excellent. Then forgive me for this, sir." Roger grabbed the covers and pulled them away, as his master produced a sound not unlike a dying cat.

With lightning fast reflexes, the blankets were wrenched from Roger's grasp, and Fitz was clutching them to himself and huddling in the middle of the bed. "How could you? How could my own thrall do such a thing? Heartless, you're simply heartless." He curled up under the blankets and stubbornly closed his eyes as if to go back to sleep.

"Of the two of us, sir, it's technically you who is heartless." Roger sighed. It was always most difficult to wake Fitz in the dead of winter. The long nights enticed his master to stay out too late sampling the city's nightlife, and the cold made him especially reluctant to leave his chambers, which, thanks to the radiators, were as hot as a furnace.

He reached down to the blankets, intending to tug on them again. This time, despite Fitz pretending to sleep, he was faster than Roger, and grasped his wrist.

Roger felt a delicious, drowsy warmth coming from his master's touch, filling his mind with cotton candy haze. It was blissfully dreamy and intoxicating, and, most dangerously, it was sleep-inducing, enticing him to shut his weary eyes and rest.

"Go back to sleep, Roger," Fitz lulled. "Curl up here. Keep me warm..."

Roger was swaying on the spot, eyelids drooping, rapidly losing himself to enchanted slumber -- but he'd been caught by this trap on plenty of occasions, and each time it ended with Fitz regretful that he'd overslept and missed his obligations. It was that memory that kept Roger just awake enough to wrench his arm away and mostly free himself from his master's dangerous temptation. Fitz was making sad little grabbing motions as Roger moved out of range of his hands.

"I'm afraid that if you wish to use your powers on me, you'll have to leave your bed to do so, sir," said Roger, standing several feet away. "The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get to the pleasant business of washing up." They both knew that it was a bluff. Roger had been under Fitz's thrall for many years now, and his master didn't need hypnotic touch to compel him, body and soul. But it was a bluff that usually worked.

"Fine, fine, you win." With one final dramatic groan, Fitz threw off the covers and sat up. "I'll take my shower, then. But I expect you to attend to me when I'm finished."

"Of course, sir." Roger watched as his master stumbled into the bathroom, and in a moment he could hear the sound of running water and upbeat humming. Fitz loved long, warm showers as much as he loved rolling around lazily in bed. He'd spend at least a half-hour relaxing in the steamy waters and performing his elaborate and ever-changing skin care routine, one which involved enough distinct products as to cover most of the vanity table.

This gave Roger plenty of time to make the perpetually disheveled bed, the foot-high pile of blankets, and the mountain of pillows in every shape and size. He made quick work of it, picked up the dirty clothes that had been tossed on the floor yesterday morning. 

Housekeeping was Roger's primary responsibility apart from providing blood and humoring Fitz's varied whims. With only the two of them in a reasonably sized flat, it wasn't especially difficult or time-consuming compared to when he'd lived on his own, before he'd been snatched off the street by a vampire. He'd even come to enjoy the simple chores. He wasn't sure how much of that was due to his own feelings or to Fitz's coercion -- his master grasping his shoulders and softening Roger's mind, whispering to him how much he loved to serve.

Really, it hardly mattered any more.

When he'd finished tidying up, Roger got down to the business of setting out his master's clothes. Serving Fitz was really about anticipating his moods more than anything else. With a large venue, he'd want something particularly flashy -- something on the warmer side for a chill day -- deep blue, perhaps?

The door to the bathroom cracked open, Roger's signal to enter.

The steam was blinding, mixed with the almost overwhelming scent of flowers, as Roger entered. Fitz was fussing with his hair, as usual, despite not being able to see it in the mirror. "You simply must help me out with this," he said.

"Of course, sir," said Roger, taking the comb from him. This was a ritual they performed nearly every night Fitz went out. Even as the years went by and Fitz grew from a young vampire to a seasoned one, he still seemed so irritated at not being able to see himself in the mirror, sometimes requiring excessive reassurance from Roger that he was still handsome.

Tonight, though, his master seemed deep in his own head as Roger ran the comb through his hair, taking some pomade in hand to smooth it back. He pulled the longer hair into a neat tail, the sort of style usually reserved for unsavory sorts, but then, Fitz didn't mind presenting himself as a bit unsavory. Roger's tense shoulders relaxed as faint hypnotic power flowed from his master's proximity, fogging his mind at the same time it increased his desire to help fix Fitz's brooding.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

Fitz seemed startled back into the waking world by the question. "Of course," he said with his fake smile plastered firmly to his face. "Just running through the show in my head. If I'm going to be dragged out of my bed and into the cold this early, it had better be worth it."

"I'm sure it will be, sir. You're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Obviously," he said, lacking the usual cheer that punctuated their banter.

With Fitz's hair squared away, the two then left the bathroom for Roger to assist dressing him. "While the rest of this outfit is acceptable, this bowtie is just not..." Fitz seemed to be fishing around, thinking of what could be wrong with the bowtie, clearly eager to find some minor fault to distract himself from his own worries. "It's blue, isn't it? You can't have blue on a night that's already cold and gloomy, that won't do. It must be red. The color of excitement and passion!"

"I don't know what I was thinking, sir," Roger deadpanned, picking up the blue bowtie that Fitz had tossed aside and fetching one of his half-a-dozen red ones.

Fitz allowed Roger to fit him with the new selection. "That's why you should leave the thinking to me."

"I'm not so sure about that, sir."

That got a genuine smile from his master. "Come now, when has that ever not worked out?" he said. "With this outfit and your expert attention to my hair, I'm sure tonight's show will be an absolute triumph."

"There's not a single doubt in my mind, sir."

As Roger adjusted his master's cummerbund, Fitz leaned in a bit more, in an unsubtle fashion. The undercurrent of tension Roger had felt all night bloomed into something more recognizable: hunger. His master desired his blood, and, as always, Roger felt himself falling into a pleasurable daze, one where all thoughts fled from his mind apart from offering himself to his master.

"I think I'll need to feed from you when I return. You don't mind, do you?" Fitz whispered in his ear.

"No, master," said Roger, shivering involuntarily. "It's my pleasure to serve you."

"And it's my pleasure to feed," he said, grinning with his fangs bared. "Yes, I think that'll be just the thing to lift my spirits. Something to look forward to after the show."

"Yes, sir. I'll also look forward it." He meant that -- he had long since given up being troubled by his desire for vampiric feedings. He'd felt that desire even for his previous master's painful, harsh feedings, and it was far easier to accept Fitz's gentle trance of bliss.

A few minutes later and Roger had wrangled a semi-unwilling vampire into two layers of winter coat and sent him on his way. Sometimes Roger went along with Fitz to the theater, to help with makeup or hair or just for support purposes, but just as often he was left behind to his own devices. 

He didn't mind either way. It was nice to have a few hours to himself. He often spent the bulk of the time painting, something he'd never gotten to do much of even before he was taken by vampires. He wanted to eat breakfast first, though, especially given that his master might be feeding later.

Roger did hope he was. Sometimes he instead chose to feed on his volunteer from the audience, and that was always a bit of a disappointment, denying Roger the opportunity to fulfill his primary purpose in life. But Fitz seemed interested in feeding at home, and if he was going to do that, it would behoove Roger to be well-fed.

Soon enough, a generous portion of ham and eggs was sizzling on the stove. Fitz had made a promise early on that he'd always keep Roger fed, and although he forgot and broke promises all the time, he hadn't broken that one. Unlike his previous master, he never punished Roger with starvation -- a particularly spiteful punishment, since it also seemed to lower the quality of Roger's blood. His previous master did seem to enjoy punishment more than feedings.

When Roger's former master had been destroyed in a duel, Roger had assumed he was going from bad to worse. That feeling had grown stronger when he'd been dragged to a secondhand thrall appraiser and his worth was assessed at far lower than it had been when he'd first been bought. At the time, Roger had been little better than a beaten dog, cringing at every sound, barely daring to speak or think. He'd lost hope for anything better.

And, well, Fitz was far from the savior he'd often imagined during those days. He was still a vampiric master, a dramatic one whose moods changed like the wind. He could still effortlessly control Roger's mind, and he made Roger do all the chores in the house. Roger still wasn't free.

But rather than beatings and torture, Fitz's "punishments" generally amounted to snippy words and extra chores. There was always food, and he was allowed to paint and read and relax. His master might have a terrible habit of tossing out every piece of clothing in his closet when choosing what to wear and then telling Roger to clean it all up, but compared to what life had been like...

He hoped that Fitz came home safe. He'd strongly prefer to not change hands again, even if it meant dragging a protesting vampire out of bed each night for the rest of his life.

Roger had busied himself painting a bird from an illustration in a nature book when he heard the front door creak. "It's goddamn cold out there! Windy, too."

"Welcome home, sir," said Roger, helping his master out of his frigid coats. He was pleased to see Fitz in a better mood than when he'd left. "I take it your show went well?"

"Of course! Didn't you say there wasn't a single doubt in your mind?" he said with a grin as he kicked off his shoes, leaving Roger to line them up neatly in the shoe rack. "The crowd loved it! The spinning box trick is a real winner -- I just need to think of some ways to jazz it up further -- perhaps doing up the box in spangles to really dazzle them..." 

He shook himself out of his train of thought, seeming to remember Roger was there. "All of that applause did have me work up an appetite, though," he said, stepping close and brushing his hand against Roger's. Roger could feel the influence flowing through him, stoking his need for the feeding. "Why don't you go start the fire? That and your blood will provide me with some warmth tonight, I think."

So he was going to feed. Roger tried to keep his face neutral to preserve a scrap of dignity. "Very good, sir."

Roger allowed himself to hum a bit of a jaunty tune as he stacked wood in the fireplace and lit the kindling, using the bellows to raise the fire higher. He could hear his master making a commotion in the bathroom, likely getting out of his fine clothes and washing off the stage makeup. By the time Fitz arrived in the parlor, the fire was crackling merrily.

"Ahhhhh," said Fitz, sprawling out onto the old leather couch and beckoning Roger close. "This is the life, isn't it, Roger?"

"It certainly is, sir."

"Well, I suppose I'm not technically alive. The point still stands."

His master put his hand to Roger's cheek, and Roger sank into the mind-numbing bliss that came from his power, the familiar sense of captivation and contentment. As always, he could feel his master's desire to feed, and as he dropped deeper into a trance, his hands came up to unbutton his shirt and pull his collar away.

"You really are an excellent thrall," said Fitz, and Roger soaked in both the praise and the sense of security that came from pleasing his master. "Now just relax and let me have what I need."

Sharp fangs punctured the old scars that would never heal, and Roger's pliable mind slipped further as his master began to drink. There was nothing but bliss and contentment and hunger and need --

-- and, as always when his master was anxious, the sound of ticking clocks and the undercurrent of a lonely void.

Perhaps the good reception to his show hadn't brightened his mood as much as Roger had thought.

Fitz drank hungrily as if to fill that void with his thrall's blood, and Roger could feel his senses buckling, his vision tunneling and his eyelids growing heavy. His master was overdrinking again. "Sir," Roger managed to say as he fought to stay awake. "Sir -- sir, you're --"

"Oh!" His master mercifully stopped. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Roger. I don't mean to do that, you know I don't."

"I know you don't," Roger parroted in a dazed voice, slumping against his master's shoulder, allowing his eyes to close now that the danger had passed.

Someday, his master was probably going to kill him. He'd drink too much blood, and Roger would fail to stop him in time, collapsing into his master's arms and closing his eyes for the last time.

But tonight was not that night, and Roger was glad of it.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

#ask #whump #whump writing #vampires #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #mind control #blood drinking #rare bookseller #fitz #roger

[lady-phasma]

Happiness at the end of the world

Chapter 3 of ?

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, mentions of past SA, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, ultra-Light Dom/sub

Summary a/n: I'm terrible at summaries, it's just more fluffy smutty stuff like chapter 2. No beta. 4.5k words.

Kristina scrubbed her eyes with her fists and squinted at the sun light. They had fallen asleep, possibly overslept. Thankfully neither of them had a run planned. Daryl might have work detail, she wasn’t sure, but she had the day off. He would probably need to take Dog out soon. She yawned as silently as she could manage, not wanting to wake Daryl yet. She was surprised to find she had fallen asleep naked. He was still wearing his jeans. He was barely snoring but the soft sound made her smile. She snuggled in close to his side. One of his arms was flung above his head, the other draped across his chest. She put her head close to his arm pit, indulging in the guilty pleasure of how wonderful he smelled, embarrassed even though only she knew. She thought she might not care if he did know, he would probably like that she liked it. She curled next to him, took a deep breath, and slipped her hand under his on his chest.

He stirred just a bit, one eye opening to assess the interruption, then he swept his arm down and crushed her into his side. She smiled against his skin. The illusion of being small with him would never get old. She let her mind wander and relished being here, in the moment, no urgency. She savored it. Her thoughts drifted through the sleepy fog of memories from the previous night. She was more satisfied than she had been in years. She watched his stomach as he breathed, the sunlight from the window highlighting a few scars and fine blond hairs. It took all of her willpower to resist the impulse to touch them, move her palm over and down his stomach. The waist of his jeans was low on his hips, revealing the darker hair just below his bellybutton. Of course she noticed the bulge in his jeans. Her mouth watered. She suspected it wasn’t a particularly comfortable way to sleep.

Her lazy thoughts drifted through things she would like to do with him, to him, back to their present arrangement, and then to coffee. It was a luxury she had long ago learned to live without but this morning felt so normal, so like before, that she could almost smell the dark roast in the French press. An impromptu fantasy formulated in her mind’s eye of a world without walkers, Daryl in her bed in her last apartment. Laying with him on a Saturday maybe, windows open to let in the cool spring morning air. The smell of him, coffee, clean sheets, and the anticipation of toothpaste combined into a snapshot that made her a little melancholy. She let the thought of toothpaste guide her back to the present and wondered if he had any. He probably did, he had the basics most of the time.

She wriggled from under his arm. When she started walking to the bathroom she was very aware of her nakedness but didn’t cover up, just in case he was awake enough to watch her. She smiled to herself as she searched the bathroom sink and medicine cabinet for toothpaste. Fuck yes, she thought, as she picked up a flat, rolled up, tiny tube of the stuff. She never knew she would love it, miss it, so much. With just the tiniest spot of it on her finger she scrubbed at her teeth. Her toothbrush was at her place. She took her time, it was a lovely feeling, then sipped some water from the faucet and rinsed. She breathed into her palm, sniffed, and was satisfied that most of the morning breath was gone.

Daryl had at least one eye on her as she stepped out of the bathroom. He tried to play possum but she saw his eyelids flutter. She leaned against the door frame. If he was pretending then he would be curious when he didn’t hear the expected footsteps approach or feel the dip in the mattress as she got back in bed. Ha! There it was again.

“Playin’ possum, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?” he opened his eyes slowly but his lips made a tight line as he suppressed a smile.

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” she walked toward the bed. She tossed the toothpaste at him. “I’ll pay you back what I used and find some more on my next run. That shit needs to be a priority unless some hippie around here can make us some from tree bark and dandelions or some shit.”

He scoff-laughed and picked up the tube from the bed. She knew him pretty well, knew he wouldn’t care if he had water or not. In a pinch just the paste would do and she didn’t want him out of bed just yet. She stood at the side of the bed as he pushed his toothpaste around his mouth. No one ever looked dignified “brushing” their teeth with their finger. She waited until he was done and held out her hand for the tube.

“Wha?” he asked.

“Gimme and I’ll take it back to the bathroom,” she answered, making a grabbing motion with her hand.

“Nah,” he said, tossing the tube on the floor. “Com’ere.”

She blushed while she hesitated. She had wanted his attention, that’s why she hadn’t put on clothes. However, Daryl’s attention was intense, she kept forgetting that.

He put his hand out to her but he remained laying down. She gingerly stepped onto the mattress, using his hand for balance. She was unsure where he wanted her so she stood, one foot on either side of his hips. She felt a bit like an Amazon and didn’t hate it. He slid his hand out of hers, letting each finger trail down hers. His eyes moved slowly over her. Just before she was about to sit down or run or sink into a hole in the floor, he sat up and slid his hands up both legs from her ankles, over her calves, and cupped her ass. Their communication was simple, silent queues, pressure with fingertips, glances with eyes. She loved it. Some combination of his signs instructed her to kneel, straddling him. She did.

She shivered. It wasn’t a cold morning at all but she felt like all the heat in the room was now only where their skin touched. His grip on her ass never faltered. This helped her get to her knees gracefully instead of the careless, unsexy way she probably would have done on her own. He also wouldn’t let her sit back on her heels. As much as he was learning her, she was learning him and she had not moved her hands from her sides since he let her hand go. She was looking at him, shivering a little, and struggling to think of anything other than her bare pussy spread open exactly how he wanted it. She blushed a deeper shade of pink.

“Mornin’,” he said. Before she could reply he moved both hands in tandem to cup her ass cheeks. She bit her bottom lip. Then his fingers began to move between her thighs. One hand held her thigh from behind, the other found her pussy.

“Ya get wet real fast, huh?” he grinned. She nodded, lower lip still pinched between her teeth.

“How come?” he asked.

“Uh, you, uh,” she mumbled and gulped and remembered she actually knew words. “You make me wet. Thinking about you, looking at you, smelling you…” She trailed off. His eyes had flashed a little at the last one.

“Mmmmhm,” he responded. Then he started to move his fingers. The sensation of being played with from behind while looking at him made her knees weak and her mouth dry.

He pulled her legs toward him, for better reach, but she lost her balance a bit and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. She was now straddling his lap, her stomach almost pressed against his. He looked at her and slowly shook his head. As soon as she understood she dropped her hands from his shoulders and made an apologetic face. His face was unreadable.

Then his fingers parted her lips and pressed against her clit. He stroked back the full length and then forward again, stopping to dip into her and then out quickly to circle her clit. He repeated the motion. God she was dripping wet. His hands were rough and felt amazing on her sensitive skin, on her swollen clit. She had never been stroked in quite this way before and found herself once again admiring his instincts.

“Oh Daryl,” she moaned. “Oh shit you feel so good.”

“Yeah, ya like that,” he growled. “Ya want me to make you come?”

“Fuck, please,” she begged. She had started to sway with his rhythm and her back arched to push her hips closer to him.

“Nah,” he said as he pulled his fingers out. Her eyes flew open at the sudden loss of stimulation. Before she could protest she watched him lick his fingers, tasting her, and she moaned.

His other hand still held her in place. Her breasts were nearly level with his mouth and he leaned forward sucking a nipple into his mouth. She squirmed and his grip on her thigh tightened. He placed his other hand on her side, high up on her ribs, and pulled her chest closer. She felt off-balance and unsteady. Every sensation from his mouth and hands on her tugged at her cunt with electric strings.

“Daryl, please,” she moaned.

“Please what?” he immediately put his mouth back on her nipple.

“Can I please touch you?” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to ask but was unsure of the answer.

An mmhmm vibrated from his mouth through her nipple and straight to her clit. Her hands flew to his hair and grabbed fistfuls. Her hands roamed everywhere without thought. She caressed his neck and shoulders, his chest, arms, anything she could reach while remaining upright. She kept her eyes closed and made a mental map of him. He had given both nipples attention as well as the sensitive skin under her breasts. The sensory overload forced unintentional sounds from her.

He hands rested on his upper arms. She couldn’t get enough of his biceps flexing under her fingertips. She didn’t grip to steady herself, she didn’t need to.

His mouth moved away from her and his hands began to slide to her hips, his thumbs pressed hard in the hollow of her hip bones. He understood how much she enjoyed that almost immediately the night before. He gently pulled down on her hips so that she was sitting on his lap. Her knees ached but she cared with only a small sliver of her mind. His dick was so hard that she gasped when her pussy came to rest on the zipper of his jeans.

Kristina took advantage of the permission to touch him and slid her hands to the back of his neck. She held his gaze while she moved close enough to kiss him but stopped just out of reach. He leaned in to meet her lips and she pulled back, teasing, grinning a little. She enjoyed having his lips just out of reach, sharing his air, watching his expression change from control to something like pursuit. She darted out her tongue and licked his bottom lip. He was faster than her. He pressed his lips against hers and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. She moaned into his mouth as he released it. She wanted to learn every way he liked to be kissed, felt she could do that all day. She moaned again when he forced her mouth open with his tongue. He responded to her moans by gripping her hips and adjusting his.

His jeans were rough and delightful against her. She was almost sure they were soaked by now. She was aching and couldn’t imagine how he must feel. She wanted to make him feel everything, help him experience everything, she was impatient. As they kissed she moved her hands from his neck to his chest. She ran her fingers through the rough hair and avoided the scars she could remember with her eyes closed. She was learning as quickly as she could but sometimes part of learning was testing. She let her fingertips graze his nipple, her nails tracing the muscles of his pecs, and returned to his nipple. Each time she did, he moaned and slightly rolled his hips.

She didn’t want to be made to choose but this new information was intriguing so she pulled back from their kiss. She placed small, delicate kisses up the line of his jaw to his ear, and breathed hotly next to it. She increased the pressure of her fingers as she passed over his nipple again. Slowly, she told herself, don’t rush. She circled her other arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. There was almost no space between them She loved this closeness. She got a bit braver and made gentle circles around his nipple. His short, quick breathes guided her. His head was in the curve of her neck and he was lazily sucking and kissing her neck and collarbone. She hummed, licked his earlobe, rolled her hips, and almost pinched at his nipple.

This was too much. Daryl grabbed her by the waist, moved her off his lap, and almost pushed her onto her back. He was hovering over her before her surprise had subsided. She giggled. She squirmed a bit, wiggling her hips and him, taunting him. Her giggles turned into quiet laughter at the look on his face. God it was endearing. It was a comical mix of delight and annoyance but with a trace of something like fear.

He began to smother her chest and stomach and hips with greedy, kisses, sucking and nibbling at times. Her laughter transformed into panting and moaning as he slipped a thigh between her legs. He ground the coarse denim against her as he kept kissing. When she felt his teeth she arched her back toward him, forcing her hips against his thigh. He groped and searched for her wrists while his kissing slowed. He brought them together in one hand and pinned them above her head. He raised up to do this and was looking down at her, hunger and need in his blue eyes.

Kristina defied him and raised her head to kiss his chest, reach her mouth almost a nipple. He pressed harder on her wrists, not painfully, and she dropped her head back on the pillow. She bit her lower lip in a challenge. He made a point to push his leg against her cunt as he moved off the bed. She knew better than to lower her arms. She had no idea what he was doing until he walked back into the room with one of his bandanas. He got back on the bed, straddling her. The cloth smelled of motorcycles and Daryl and earth as he wrapped it around her wrists. After he tied the knot he tugged on it and her arms moved but her wrists stayed together.

He looked at her. Just looked. She tried to make her face unreadable but the more she tried the hotter the blush felt. He got up from the mattress again. He assessed the scene and tapped the inside of one of her ankles. He was gentle but knew what he wanted. She spread her legs.

He nodded once, satisfied, and the rested a hand on the fly of his jeans. He held her gaze to ensure she was watching. He was insecure about almost everything about himself except his abilities to track and hunt. Only a day ago what he was doing now only existed in his imagination, nothing he could actually do. Kristina looked at him the way he looked at her. He wasn’t comfortable in his skin, might never be, but that seemed okay when he was with her. She didn’t expect him to be. Not that he thought she preferred he be some beat up mess but that it didn’t really matter to her or if it did at all it only made her enjoy him more. He always overthought, analyzed, tried to anticipate what would happen next. A survival skill he developed to dodge words and fists and pain. Last night he had moments when his brain took a break from the extra work, when his world was nothing but being wrapped up in her. He could do that as long as she would let him.

So with her he did things that scared him at first or made himself feel a little unhinged. He was sure her psychology shit had words for all that. The words didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to keep returning to that edge and finding out that he could go past it. And that he had someone who stood on the other side with her hand out, helping him. He rarely felt brave, he did what was necessary, but there was a small flicker of bravery when he pushed past the fear.

He watched as her eyes did what he wanted and followed his hand to his jeans. He cupped the bulge, pressed the zipper a little too hard against his dick, but the slight pain helped him focus. Once his jeans were unzipped his narrow hips couldn’t hold them up. He let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. She licked her lips. He liked that a lot. He enjoyed being able to watch her shallow breathing in the sway of her breasts, how her belly rose and fell, close to panting.

He wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked, long, lazy strokes. Her eyes followed. He swiped the precum off the tip and she licked her lips again. Oh yeah? he thought. He leaned over the mattress and painted her bottom lip with it. Her eyes nearly closed as she slid her tongue out to taste it. Watching her enjoy that tugged at the base of his dick and he groaned through gritted teeth. He knelt down next to her, hand back on his aching dick, and licked at her nipples, her belly button, kissed her carefully above her pussy. He breathed in her smell. He wanted his mouth on her, to taste her, feel her with his tongue, almost as much as he wanted to fuck her. He had already moved his mouth away though. The very fucking last thing he ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable. He kissed her ribs, her arm pit, mostly to watch her squirm but also to learn all of her smells, kissed her elbow, and her curled fingers.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him sit down beside her. He reached over and helped her sit up, her bound wrists making that action particularly difficult. Then he guided her over him while he lay back. She let herself be led. He positioned her straddling him, she was so easy to move like this, compliant, willing, but, most of all, enthusiastic about letting him take control. She sucked in a small gasp of air when he had her where he wanted. Her pussy rested on his lower stomach and his dick was hard against her ass.

He slid his hands in tandem over the insides of her thighs, let his thumbs brush her swollen lips, press into her hips, and continued up her sides, along her ribs, and then pulled her down onto him. Her arms relaxed with her wrists on the pillow just above his head. She felt almost weightless. The only part of her not supported by him were her knees. When he breathed she felt herself lifted with him, her breasts pressed hard into his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips as he moved his hands to her ass. She liked being able to figure him out and not be too many steps behind. He wanted her to get used to letting him hold her up, feel safe.

Daryl kissed her cheek, her neck, her arm beside his head, and started to lift her ass. For a moment he knew it would be awkward and difficult for her but he had her. Having her lay on top of him was a wonderful feeling. For a brief flash he wished he could communicate that to her in words but then he focused on where his hands were. He had to strain just a little to reach behind her. He guided the tip of his dick into her hot, wet pussy, taking his time to brush against her clit before fully sliding in. Then he slowly pressed her hips down with his hands. She didn’t make a sound, she only breathed, her head tucked between them. Her breath was warm and almost damp on his chest.

He groaned enough for both of them. He adjusted his hips for a better angle and they both hitched in breaths. He didn’t know quite where to put his hands so he placed one on her lower back. When he brought his hips up he could keep her steady with that hand. She made a soft purring sound when he did that. He pulled out a little and slid back in, repeated, just to hear that sound again. His other hand searched her body as he rolled his hips. He wasn’t fucking her yet. He wanted to go slow as long as he could. When his fingers grazed the fold of her hip she twitched away from his hand but pressed her hips into his. He touched the side of her belly, she was so soft that he sighed, nothing in this world was soft anymore. He gently worked his hand between them, palm on her stomach, and circled her clit with a finger.

She pushed down onto his hand. She wasn’t in control of her body anymore. Her hips moved without her instruction, her arms were jelly beside his head, her mind was empty, and now every nerve in her body was either focused on her clit or his dick inside her. The slow, steady rhythm of his hips and finger were overwhelming. She wanted to grope and grab at something. Her hands clenched into fists. With her wrists bound she couldn’t touch anything. Her forehead was pressed hard into his chest and she was breathing her own recycled air in the space between them. He held her still with his hand on her back and couldn’t fuck him like every part of her ached to do. Panting, her eyes closed tight, she could feel her lips on his chest. Without thinking she bit. She knew it wasn’t hard, probably not even enough to bruise, but it was the only action her mind could find.

“Shit,” Daryl groaned, at first in surprise and then a wave of intense feeling ran from her mouth to his dick. His hips jerked as a reflex and she gasped. The place where she had bit him throbbed momentarily. He snatched his hand from between their bodies. He grabbed her with all of his strength and rolled them over. Kristina made a small oof sound and when he looked at her to make sure she was okay she was smiling. In one smooth motion he pinned her bound wrists above her head with one hand and swept one of her legs over his shoulder with the other.

He thrust deeper into her. He leaned into her leg as far as he felt he could without hurting her and put his mouth next to her ear.

“This what ya want woman?” he asked through gritted teeth, quickening his pace with shallower, faster thrusts. “Ya wanna be bad, that it?”

“Yes, oh god, yes Daryl,” she yelled. “Fuck!”

“Fine,” he growled as he lifted himself up enough to move his hand from her wrists. At first he gently slid his hand to her throat. She looked into his eyes and nodded. He squeezed and she rasped out a please. Just a bit more pressure and they found the sweet spot. Her breath was ragged and her eyes rolled back. He felt her leg wrap around him, pressing on his ass to push him deeper. His thrusts became more erratic as her muscles tightened around his dick.

He watched her face carefully as his orgasm started to tug at him. Her lips were parted, her eyes shut, and her cheeks flushed. She was so beautiful. Seeing his rough, tan hand around her pale throat nearly sent him over the edge. He didn’t pull back on his last thrust, he ground his hips against hers. He felt her groan in his hand before he heard it. Then he released her neck and her body rocked against him. Her muscles pulsed around his dick.

Her orgasm tore through her. She yelled his name and gasped. Loud, hitching breaths shook her chest. He let her leg slide off his shoulder, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her breasts. His hips bucked against her. He felt her hands find his neck.The bandana strained against her movement. The sensation of the fabric on his skin made him moan a quiet, drawn-out fuck against her chest. He felt his cum pour into her. She wrapped her legs around him and held him as his entire body vibrated.

Kristina kissed the top of his head. She loved his smell and nuzzled her face into his hair for a moment longer. She felt his body relax on top of her. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her wrists, her cunt. His cum seeped out from between them before he pulled out. He slid his arms from underneath her and raised up to see her watching him. She held her bound wrists in front of her face. He didn’t think he had ever seen someone as beautiful as her in his life. He carefully pulled out of her with a small moan in his throat. He sat up and untied the bandana. He pressed his lips against each wrist. When he let her hands go she sat up and kissed him hard.

She flopped back down on the mattress, completely graceless. Daryl laid down beside her. She kissed his shoulder. It was so easy for them to forget what the world was like now. Walkers didn’t exist, they didn’t have to forage for toothpaste, potable water wasn’t a limited resource. Unfortunately this spell would break. They would have some daily tasks to do and normal human things to attend to but for a moment she enjoyed this small bubble of peace.

“Guess Dog’ll be needed some attention,” Daryl sighed. “Imma take him out and feed him. Ya want breakfast too?”

She smiled and nodded, her eyes half closed.

#I have about 5k words of chapt 4 done already #daryl smut #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl x oc #twd fanfiction #cw ptsd #tw ptsd

[kaymarie-bell]

Diasomnia spoilers (7-3 / 7-19) but it's a mess

because the update dropped at midnight for me and and I haven't sleep much since Friday hahaha 🌻

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I translated 7-1 and 7-2 fully so I'm skipping that for now

Lilia spent the previous night playing games with his online friend, he overslept and was running towards the apprenticeship orientation meeting because he was late

He scolds Silver for not waking him up, but Silver says that he did try. 3 times. But Lilia is too hard to wake up in the mornings.

Malleus and Lilia have to go to the orientation, Malleus tells Yuu that they can visit him to ask more about Maleficent. The NPCs wonder why he even bothered to attend NRC since he doesn't need it, they're afraid of him.

The Third years are all assembled to discuss their options/chosen apprenticeships

Trey: something related to agriculture

Cater: entertainment field

Vil: he's interested in alchemy, but will prioritize his acting career

Rook: something related to archeology. He wants to work at the Isle of Lamentation since he found it beautiful and wanted to discover more hidden beauties

Leona: he's already talked about it with Crowley, he wants to work with his country's mining industry (he pretends that is only because they won't expect much of the second prince, nobody believes him)

Idia: he's going to his practice/apprenticeship on his own because Ortho is an official student now. He'll be working with Olympus, but it's more like a punishment his parents gave him after the whole Chapter 6 mess (😭)

Malleus: he's also interested on the same field as Rook

Lilia: a dropout (seriously)

(first glimpse of trouble 👀) Lilia is not going to any practice because he's leaving NRC altogether. He's been losing his magic (to be continued)

Yuu finally gets to have the communal braincell and shows Mickey's picture to the rest of the first years

speedrun of this scene because I can't do it justice in this format (I love my sons, they deserve better)

The only one with a helpful idea is Ortho (shocker), he thinks the mirror at Ramshackle might be made of a special stone (?) that's normally used to capture radio frequencies. They find an example of this in a textbook: Belle's handheld mirror fron Beauty and the Beast

Ortho concludes that Mickey is not in Twisted Wonderland. He says that they might be able to find a way home for Yuu if they study the mirror further (uh oh)

We're ignoring the implications of that

Ortho asks if Yuu knows anyone from the fae folk that might be of help. Sebek is screaming again before the thought of asking Malleus is fully formed

Back to Lilia. He break the news to Sebek and Silver. He's leaving NRC and wants to move to the land of the red Long (🐉) instead of returning to the Valley of Thorns

He asks them to help him pack. Malleus says that they must respect Lilia's choice.

The three of them go away. Malleus is upset. (oh no)

another speedrun. Lilia's room.

Sebek and Silver are helping him pack, and they go through all the weird stuff Lilia has. Silver finds a box with a ring in it. He thinks is kind of familiar (hint: looks like Aurora's crown) and suddenly feels very sleepy

Lilia confesses that the ring actually does belong to Silver. He had it on him when he was found as a baby. He wanted to give it to him once he became an adult

(the math is mathing fellas)

we also ignore the implications of that (for now) because Sebek found a really cool and legendary weapon. Silver isn't impressed because Lilia uses it to chop wood (😭)

Back to Ramshackle. The first years are staying with Yuu to perform a seance to see if they can contact Mickey

ADeuce convinced Riddle to let them stay by telling him it was a group study session (like I used to do with my mom)

Grim: he can't punish me if I don't study, I'm not from Heartslabyul

Deuce: he made personalized study plans for everyone here (note: not actual lines, just the vibes). The exam season is near

Grim finally starts to ask what Yuu leaving would mean for him. Would he even be allowed to take exams? Would he be alone at Ramshackle? (😭😭😭)

Ace: let's ignore the implications of that

They go to sleep, but it starts snowing and Yuu goes outside

It's Malleus, it's snowing because he's upset

*sad childhood flashbacks feat. Long Haired Lilia silhouette*

Yeah Malleus is definitely going to overblot due to abandonment issues

Yuu breaks the news of the possibility of going back to their world

Malleus *definitely having a mental breakdown internally* :) do you want me to help with the mirror?

Yuu leaves after saying goodbye

Malleus thinks about the Chapter 6 conversation with Lilia

Malleus:...someone to invite me...there is no one left...

#twisted wonderland #twst #diasomnia chapter spoilers #twst spoilers #Diasomnia #wow I love suffering #kay shouts into the void

[r4zberrygirl]

Checkmate, I couldn’t lose

akaashi keiji x gn reader, collegeAU, fluff, 1k

cw: suggestive but like barely

an: my first actual post for this blog! sorry if this is bad lol no pronouns and no physical description of reader :) -raz

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Mastermind

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

Midterm exams were right on top of you at this point and the only cafe within comfortable walking distance, that also happened to have the best mocha lattes you’ve ever tasted, just closed for remodeling. You sank further into your chair inside the cramped library on the corner and holding your bitter homemade coffee, decided your week could not get any worse. Sighing and leaning over your laptop you glance upwards and your heart stops. You try to avoid your staring being too obvious but the stranger standing in front of a shelf labeled ‘classics', seemed to be the most breathtaking person on earth. He looked tired and held a coffee, but his black curly hair and jade eyes made you stare for probably longer than you should’ve. Breaking out of your stupor, you determine that if there's one thing you can do to make your week of midterms less shitty, it's getting this hot guy’s number. You stand from your chair and pretend to look through the shelves at his back, even tilting your head and running your finger along the spines to really sell the act. You take a silent breath, a measured step back, and bump into him. He turns to steady you in surprise. “Are you alright?” he asks, pushing his glasses up and looking into your eyes with concern.

“Yes I'm so sorry! I was just looking for Shakespeare’s work!” The lie rolls off your tongue like you had been planning it, which of course, you had.

“I think his works are right here actually. What are you looking for?” 

“Hamlet.” Luckily your lie from earlier was mostly based in truth as you really were struggling in your literature course right now. “I wasn’t paying good enough attention in class and now I’m stuck trying to study for this midterm,” you said, sounding slightly guilty. 

His eyes glow a little as he speaks, “Oh! I'm actually an English major. I took that class last semester. Professor Kimura, right?” 

You release a sigh of relief because your plan of getting this hot guy's number might actually benefit you in more ways than one. “Yes!” 

“I can try to help if you want. I don't have any of my stuff from that class right now, but maybe we can meet up tomorrow?” He says with a soft smile. 

You smile and put your hands together, “Yes please! That would be incredible! I’m ____ ____ by the way!”

“I’m Akaashi Keiji.” He holds out his hand and motions towards your phone. You hand it to him excitedly and he makes a contact for himself. “Text me later so we can pick a time and we’ll meet here if that works for you.” 

“That works perfectly for me,” you respond. This felt like a dream, maybe this week isn’t so cursed after all. He grabs a book off the shelf behind you and puts it in your hands, “And I think this is what you were looking for.” He turns and walks away but not before flashing you a smirk. Your gaze falls to the book in your hands and you chuckle. Hamlet.

You agree to meet tomorrow at 9 in order to start the day off strong and be productive. That night you go to sleep with a smile and wake to your alarm blaring in your ears. You sit up and rub your eyes. It's brighter than usual at this time and you reach for your phone off the nightstand. You overslept. You must’ve hit snooze on your first alarm not realizing it and now you’re gonna be late. You get dressed and brush your teeth as quickly as you can before grabbing your bag and an apple and getting out the door. You deem coffee as unnecessary, you can live without it for one day. 

Akaashi meets your gaze through the window, somehow just as gorgeous at 9am as he was at noon yesterday, and you make your way towards the table he’s picked out. “I'm so sorry I'm late! I slept through my first alarm,” you tell him frantically while getting out your laptop and sliding into the chair across from him. 

“No worries. I actually brought you a coffee anyways, so I guess it all worked out,” he tells you looking at your slightly frazzled state. 

“You didn’t need to do that, you're already helping me so much by being here, but thank you.” You mentally mark him down as a charmer. He grins at you and you begin to review his old notes together. 

“Your exam isn’t until Wednesday, right?” Akaashi questions during a break you agreed on after an hour of studying.

“Yes, thank god,” you reply to him.

“Make sure to call me after so we can see how helpful I was,” he says jokingly.

Three days, and two and a half hours of testing later, Akaashi’s phone rings and you echo through the line, “I GOT AN 88!” He congratulates you through the phone and states how this calls for a celebratory coffee, his treat. You of course are not going to turn that down and meet up with him at a shop a few blocks from campus. Upon seeing him you trample him with a hug and thank him until he has to stop you from doing so anymore. Akaashi laughs at you softly, “You’re welcome, but I'm sure you could’ve done it on your own.”

From there, your friendship with Akaashi blossomed into a relationship as the first date turned into third, which turned into fifth, which turned into inviting you to a New Years Eve party his friend was hosting, which obviously turned into your first kiss and so much more. Recently, it seems like you spend more time in his apartment than your own but there's nothing you would change about that. Waking up next to him felt sacred, you could talk about whatever you wanted and he would always keep the conversation flowing with little questions and quips about whatever you’re going on about. 

Keiji reaches across the sheets to pull you closer to him when he notices your quiet snores have stopped and you begin to stretch out your legs. Your arms naturally go up to his neck to play with his hair when he wraps his own around your waist. He smiles sweetly at you, “Good morning.”

You giggle for a second before responding, “Good morning to you too.” Your eyes travel up to meet his as you ask, “Keiji do you believe in fate?” 

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Do you?” He replies, slightly confused on why you were asking such a deep question so early in the morning. 

“Well I think it was fate that you walked into that little bookshop at the same time I was there.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was having a horrible week and I think you were sent to fix it all.” He hums and kisses the top of your head as you fall into a short silence. “You know it wasn't an accident. Back at the library I mean. I bumped into you on purpose,” you admit and your cheeks heat up a little. 

“I know,” he says and smirks down at you. You look up at him, shocked eyes and open mouthed, and he puts a deep kiss onto your lips. He knew the entire time. And he just went along with your scheme because apparently you weren't the only one whose heart stopped at the first glance of a stranger whose beauty was truly breathtaking.  

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x gn!reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi fluff #this is my first fic plz be nice to me #raz.writes #Spotify

[thepoolhead1]

since literally no one will look at this post because of the lack of tags (idk how that shit works), i will proceed to vent about what i hate about the stupid church im forced to participate in.

my immediate family goes to a conservative christian megachurch and it is agony. since it is a megachurch that probably doesnt pay taxes and gets its members to donate (checks notes) over a million dollars a year to support their totally ethical business.

as a young person, i am apart of this church’s student program where young, impressionable teenagers are hammered to death with teachings that rely way too much on one source (doubt it would fly in ap lang). one program in particular is one where people pay up so their kids can leave the concrete hell of (sub)urban life and live in the middle of the woods for a week while we learn about jesus fucking christ.

now how the camp works is that we are split up into groups of about 10 led by one adult. we all share a small cabin and we learn about jesus fucking christ together. each day, we would team up with another group for the ultimate collab and we would learn about jesus fucking christ. in these discussions, you could really see these people’s true colors. one thing that cropped up was the brief but apparent animosity towards the lgbtq+ people. this isnt anything new but it made me want to get up and leave. i just couldnt. i may be a bit biased as a closeted bi but i think it’s not that good to have seemingly irrational hatred toward a group of people that try to be who they are.

the biggest pisser for me were these two people that were getting on my nerves even though i tried my damndest to silently say fuck off.

every night, everyone would gather in a worship center and we would all sing about some weird metaphors and shit. me, being the edgy badass i totally am, didnt give a flying shit and made it apparent by plopping in earbuds and listening to whatever i felt like. this caught the attention of the group leader, who threatened confiscation, so i sat on the opposite side of the row as him. easy. then this fucker showed up.

at first it was just one. she saw i was sitting down during the songs. she saw i had earbuds in. “blasphemy,” she thought. “he must be dealt with.” so she approached me and asked what was up. i responded as vaguely as possible, not willing to give any ground. she eventually fucked off until i was a repeat offender i accidentally let my guard down and let something slip.

shit.

i was somehow able to get out unscathed though. i was lucky. the next time, she brought backup. a brother? a boyfriend? i didnt give a fuck but i didnt like him. they pestered me, asking me questions. they were merciful enough to keep prodding to a minimum, but i had to stand my ground. eventually, the backup tried his final attack: asking for my contact info so he could watch my every move. this attack was sneaky but i avoided it. the nightmare was finally over. i couldnt wait to get back home so i could pretend i overslept so i could skip church.

my favorite part of the camp was the free time. i would just sit under a beach umbrella and look out over the lake water and think: “damn. god aint shit.”

this is my first personal rant and this will not be the last. this is tagless because i just want to get shit out there. not commercialize it. its three am and i might sleep.

[forcefullyawake]

This is for @cupcake-rogue’s like a virgin collab!

Denki x F! Reader

Warnings: None, tooth rotting fluff, and a suggestive ending. 

Summary: Sometimes the right person runs into you. Literally. Other times it’s a hero who’s not watching where he’s going.

WC: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari doesn’t do being nervous. 

He’s a hero, a pro, top ten. He worked his ass off during UA, his internships, did everything right, shed his jokester ways, and in the first hero rankings he was in? He placed higher thank even Bakugo. He’s impressive, he thinks, tall and blonde, having grown into himself after those first few awkward years. The point is he’s not nervous around women anymore, doesn’t stutter over his words or make inappropriate comments. He’s cool, mature, a catch for any woman. 

Until, that is, he quite literally runs into you.

“I’m fucking late,” Denki announces to nobody- it’s not like anybody stayed over the night before. It’s a true testament to who he is now that his morning routine can be essentially cut in half and almost nothing goes wrong during it. His hero costume is not only easy to get on, but something that works well with his usual wardrobe, so that he can be out the door in under twenty minutes for times like these. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” He mutters to himself, finally getting all the buttons into place right when the elevator opens up to the ground floor. It’s impressive, actually, that he manages to run into you. With a quirk like his, he’s learned to be constantly aware of his surroundings so nobody gets shocked accidentally. Today, however, he’s not thinking straight and runs directly into you, knocking you (and your paperwork) to the ground. 

He stops dead in his tracks, wanting more than anything to start apologizing, helping you pick things up. You know, things any normal person or hero would do but he finds himself stuck in place. You’re… hot, for lack of a better word. He’ll think of some later. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something about you that has him immediately bewitched- mind, body, and soul, just like that. You’re standing now, a scowl on your face and- hey you’re snapping your fingers for some reason, maybe he should listen in.

“Hello? Is anybody any there?” Your voice is understandably irritated, looking him up and down quickly before huffing. “Whatever. Watch where you’re going next time, jerk.” You spin away from him, taking his hopes and dreams right with you. But you walk into his apartment building, and through the glass doors that stand between you he sees you walk to the manager- so you’re either gonna live there or work there. Either way he has a second chance. 

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and a quick glance tells him it’s Mineta, demanding to know where he is- is he okay? Was there a villain attack? Denki shoots off a quick text saying he’s just overslept before hurrying on his way. 

It’s not until later, when he’s finally in his office, that Denki realizes how he was feeling. 

For the first time, in a very long time, Denki Kaminari was nervous. All because of you.

“Stupid hero, not watching where he was stupidly going,” You mutter under your breathe before plastering on a smile when your new apartment manager steps into view. God, this place is so nice. You can’t wait to move in. You have to dropped off the signed leasing forms and then give the place one last look around before the moving trucks start coming in. 

The meeting goes smoothly, which helps ease whatever leftover tension you have from the morning. The keys are in your hands, the boxes are piling up, and your neighbor is out for the day it looks like so you can play music as loudly as you dare. Your day goes just about as well as a moving day can. You get the important things set up first- bed, tv, coffee maker. The creature comforts for when you’re inevitably exhausted tomorrow. You hear movement in the other apartment, frowning at the shared wall with how clearly you can. Hm, that might be annoying. Still, you don’t plan on turning down the music unless asked. 

Almost like clockwork you hear a knock on your door. You pause to lower the volume to a more acceptable level before opening the door, ready to introduce yourself and apologize, make a good first impression and all that only to see-

“You!” You raise an accusatory finger- at the hero who knocked you over and did nothing this morning. “You can’t be my neighbor!”

“I-” He starts, having the good sense to at least look a little sheepish now. “I’m sorry?” His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his head, making him look even more nervous but you can see his eyes looking over your shoulder to peer into your apartment. 

“Yeah, you should have said that this morning,” It holds less venom than you want, especially when you get distract by the muscles his actions put on display. Huh. Your new neighbor is incredibly built. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Again, whatever. I turned the music down. Goodnight.” You go to close the door but his voice stops you. 

“Hold on, I wasn’t going to ask you to turn it down,” He starts, finally looking away from your apartment, “I liked it. And maybe you can play it for me now? I could help you put stuff away? Make up for this morning?”

You should say no. You’re already getting tired, you have stuff beyond packing to do tomorrow, and it’s stupid to let a complete stranger into your house. Even if he’s a pro hero. And even if he’s cute. You should tell him to get lost. Instead, you open your mouth to hear yourself say,

“Sure, come on in.”

Denki can’t believe his luck when you open your door a little wider to let him in. 

He was so sure you were going to say no- hell, even you looked a little confused when yes came out of your mouth, but he wasn’t going to question it too much. Your place already looked a lot cozier than his, with decorations half in the boxes, even. You have photos up on the walls already, pictures of people who look like you too and people who look like your friends. His own apartment is pretty sparse, just a place he can sleep and eat in. 

“Could you help me in the kitchen?” Your voice carries through the space, having left him behind. “I have some stuff that need to go onto the top shelf.” He follows blindly, biting down so hard on his lower lip it almost bleed when he sees you. You’re not doing anything scandalous, just putting dishes away but the way your arms are raised over your head have given him a glimpse at your skin where your shirt has ridden up. He can feel the blood rush south in his body, embarrassingly. 

“Stop ogling and start helping,” You snap over your shoulder, frowning at him. That snaps him out of his daze, not wanting to leave too soon despite having another early morning shift. He grabs the box you point at, and starts to place the mugs on the top shelf. They look like gifts, he thinks, all of them printed with far too many places for one person to have visited. 

“Your friends get you these?” He asks, trying to sound casually interested, not too desperate, “Or a boyfriend?” You snort at him.

“Friends, mostly, and some family,” You wait a long moment before continuing, “No boyfriends, though.” Denki internally heaves a sigh of relief. 

“I don’t get out much, with my job. But I like to pretend I do,” You say, eyeing the mugs wistfully. “How about you? You travel a lot?”

“That requires taking time off,” Denki says, frowning a little as he tries to remember his last actually relaxing day off. “But you know what they say- if you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life!”

“Oh, bullshit,” You snort out, abandoning the box you’ve been unpacking all together. “I love my job, a lot, but I have worked some days.” The tension is broken after that, with Denki asking you to elaborate and you trying to play coy until the rants just burst out of you. It’s not until your stomach gives a loud grumble that you realize neither of you have been unpacking but just talking for the past hour and a half. 

It’s just late enough that a normal dinner is out of the question, but maybe you could order something in?

“I know a good ramen place that delivers here,” Denki volunteers, grinning sheepishly. 

“Are you sure your quirk isn’t mind reading?” You tease him, just to watch him laugh. He’s pretty hot when he laughs, you think, then immediately try to squash the thought. Dinner first, crushing on a hero later.

Dinner is ordered.

Denki’s right, the ramen is good and it comes quick. The two of you slurp your soup in silence, the awkwardness returning from before. Denki seems almost unable to look at you now, for some reason. He focuses in so hard on his bowl you’re surprised it doesn’t go up in smoke. You want to ask him about it but you can’t figure out how to phrase the question. 

For his part, Denki is having an internal meltdown. When you lean forward to take a sip of the broth your shirt pulls forward just enough that he can see the swell of your breasts. It shouldn’t affect him this much, he’s been around enough, but there’s something about the white of your bra that makes his head spin, makes him feel like a virgin all over again. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him the same moment he blurts out-

“I can see your bra, I’m sorry, don’t kick me out,” All in one breath. You’re silent for a moment, and then another, and another, and Denki regrets every choice he’s made in his life until now that brought him here. You keep not saying anything and a million and one scenarios run through his head, each one worse than the next. Oh my god, what if you tell people? He’ll be known as the pervert hero, he won’t be able to work in Japan anymore, he’ll have to someplace like America or-

“Would you like to see more of it?” Your voice is soft, shy as your hands twist in the bottom of your shirt, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s sure he’s misheard you because there’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you are. 

“More?” He manages to croak out. You don’t reply, but your shirt keeps going upwards. Your shirt continues upwards until it’s off of you and Denki’s brain has finally, truly short circuited. 

You’re not sure what’s possessing you to be so bold- maybe the conversation, maybe the way the food has made you comfortably warm and a little drowsy, maybe you just wanna see what he’ll do next. It’s cute, endearing even, how his eyes can’t figure out where to look. He can’t decide if he wants to throw himself at you or away from you. 

“More,” You agree, moving closer to him on the couch, taking the bowl from his hands to set on the table in front of you. Denki stops breathing as you move even closer to him, your face swimming in front of his eyes. “Tell me if I should stop?”

“Never,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours, tasting like a promise, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s so easy to fall into him, like you’ve known him forever, like this is as easy as breathing. 

It’s sunrise, somehow. Denki is still there, blissfully unaware as you watch him sleep. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t watch where he was going the previous morning. 

Now, though, you wouldn’t mind running into him again. 

#denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki x female reader #denki fluff #denki kaminari fluff

[hxlyhead-harpies]

Dream a Little Dream of Me (J.P.)

Requested: Yes  “Of course I remembered.”  “Please hold me. It’s been a day.”  “I think you might be my soulmate.”

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Summary: You have been having odd dreams about your best friend

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Cursing, pining

You shot up from your bed, your chest heaving. You had been having another dream, a blissful and happy one, but you awoke feeling nothing but dread. You had been having these dreams for months. They depicted a future of a happy and blissful relationship, days passed by with lazy, languid kisses and longing and loving stares. The dreams were everything you could ever want. The problem laid with who starred in these fantasies. 

James Potter had been your best friend since early childhood. Your mothers had met in school and the two of you had practically been raised together. You had seen each other’s first steps and had been there for each other through everything. You had always thought of him as a brother. That was, until the dreams began. 

Suddenly his presence made your stomach erupt with fireworks and roses bloom on your cheeks. Every smile he sent you made you nervous and every bit of contact made goosebumps arise on your skin. It didn’t help that your friendship with James had always been touchy; from a young age, the two of you would hold hands or hug often. Many nights the two of you could be found cuddling on the common room couch, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist, and your legs tangled together. It had never bothered you before, but suddenly every touch made your skin burn. 

You knew it was cliche, falling in love with your best friend, but the dreams made it an inevitability. You couldn’t escape your thoughts of a domestic life with him. But there was too much at stake for you to ever reveal your feelings. If he rejected you, your friend group would shatter. You knew people would take sides and most of your friends would choose James. You also knew that if James didn’t feel the same, you’d lose him forever. You couldn’t bear the thought of a life completely devoid of him. You’d rather suffer the curse of friendship than the anguish of a ruined relationship. You also knew that a rejection could drive a wedge between your parent’s life long friendship. They were like your second family and you could never hazard the possibility of ruining that. 

So you pulled back slightly, hoping that the distance would help rid you of your feelings. You didn’t disappear completely, not being able to stand the idea of that. You just stopped touching him as much and you spent more time in the library than with him. You couldn’t tell if he noticed or not, but you hoped that he believed that everything was fine. 

You looked around your room, realizing that you were alone. You spared a glance at the clock and realized it was almost noon. Your roommates had probably left already, wandering around the grounds or down to Hogsmeade. You groaned as you realized that you were supposed to meet James nearly an hour ago. You hoped he wouldn’t be too angry that you overslept. 

You sighed and got up, your feet padding towards your dresser. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, grimacing at the messiness of your hair. You smiled though when you realized that in last night’s sleep-induced haze, you had pulled one of James’s jumpers over your head. You took a deep breath, inhaling the remnants of his scent on the sweater. Your thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. You frowned and smoothed down your hair, unsure of who it could be. 

You walked over and opened the door, only to be met by James barreling through the doorframe.

“James?” you squeaked, surprise overtaking you, “How did you get up here?” James ran a hand through his hair and turned to face you. 

“You really think the enchantment on the stairs could stop me?” he asked, his words clearly intended to be a joke but the frown on his face ruining the effect. You laughed softly, though the sound was hollow. You wrung your hands, preparing the apology that was about to spill from your lips. 

“Listen James-” you started, avoiding his gaze.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked suddenly, interrupting you abruptly. You froze, unsure of what to say. “Because I think that you’ve been avoiding me and now you’re not showing up for our plans, and I don’t know what I did,” he said quickly, the words spilling from his lips desperately. You shuffled awkwardly in your place.

“I didn’t mean to not show up this morning,” you said meekly. James furrowed his eyebrows.

“So you did remember that we had plans?” he questioned. You looked up at him with an apologetic look.

“Of course I remembered,” you said, “I just overslept.” James let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping. 

“I feel quite dumb now,” he joked with a laugh, “I overreacted quite a bit don’t you think?” You gave him a forced smile, knowing that while he had been wrong about you ditching plans, you had in fact been avoiding him. James flopped dramatically onto your bed, kicking off his shoes in the process.

“Please hold me. It’s been a day,” he said with a playful grin on his face, his arms outstretched to welcome you into his embrace. You laughed and made your way towards him.

“James it’s not even noon yet,” you replied with a smile. Still, you clamored into bed next to him, feeling the warmth of his strong arms around you. 

“What about Hogsmeade?” you asked softly. James let out a non-committal noise and pulled you closer. 

“We can always go next time. I want to hang out just you and me,” he said, “I’ve missed spending time with my girl.” His words sent a jolt of electricity up your spine. You snuggled closer into his chest, pretending for a moment that maybe he wanted you the way that you wanted him. 

Several hours later you woke up, still curled up next to James. At some point, the two of you had fallen asleep in your bed. You looked up to look at his sleeping face, admiring how his eyelashes fluttered against his skin. You reached up and poked his cheek, causing him to stir slightly.

“Wake up sleepyhead,” you said softly in his ear. He groaned, stretching out his legs and his back. He reached up a hand and rubbed his sleepy eyes. He seemed dazed and half asleep, not fully aware of what was going on. He looked at your face and you saw a gentle smile grace his lips. 

“I think you might be my soulmate,” he murmured softly, his eyes half-lidded and his voice groggy. You felt your face fall in shock.

“What?” you whispered out numbly. James seemed to wake up fully then, shooting up to sit in the bed. He put his head in his hands.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, “I didn’t mean to say that.” You sat up, brushing hair away from your face, and removed his hands from his face.

“James,” you breathed, “Why would you say that.” He looked at his lap, avoiding your gaze. 

“I’ve been having these dreams,” he said, “Where you and I are, I don’t know, together I guess.” It took everything in you not to gasp at his words. 

“And everything in the dreams is just so perfect, and you’re so perfect. And for a while, I’ve wanted what the dreams showed me. I want to be with you,” he said softly. You sat in shocked silence, unsure of what to say. How was that possible? That you had both been dreaming of one another? 

“And now you’re being quiet so I’m pretty sure that I just messed everything up but I think that I love you,” he admitted, “I know I’ve always been shit at divination but something about these dreams seems too real for them to mean nothing.” His voice was filled with nothing but sincerity, his eyes downcast as he took your silence as a rejection. 

“I’ve been dreaming of you too,” you finally admitted after a moment. He looked up at you with a wide-eyed expression, a shocked smile spreading across his face. 

“You have?” he questioned breathily. You nodded shyly.

“I have. And I think you might be right,” you said softly, “I really do think we might be soulmates.” James let out an airy laugh before tackling you into a hug. You giggled as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and tickled your side. 

“James!” you shrieked in excitement, slapping his shoulder playfully. 

“Hey, get used to it,” he said playfully, “I am your soulmate after all.”

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

taglist: @theweasleysredhair​ @spn-marvel-nerd​ @gloryekaterina​ @mytreec​ @levylovegood​ @inglourious-imagines @whatwoulddracodo @pattinsons-films @lunalovegxxd@kashishwrites @wonderful-writer @accio-prozac @sarcasticallywitty15 @lawsandother @teheharrypotter @hannolannno @flowercrownchic @chaoticgirl04 @kiwi-sloan @miss-fuck-the-world @durmstrange @aspiringsloth20 @breadqueen95 @ellyseveronica @layaa-layaaa @ultrabuzzlightyear @missswriter @camreid @emcchi @ari-stoteles @missmulti @tinylumpiaa @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @letsloveimagines  @fific7

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter x y/n #young marauders #young!james potter #young!james potter x reader

[spencerreidslove]

Hi I'd like to request a Spencer Reid x soulmate!reader red string au. Where Reader is part of the BAU and they don't tell anyone they are soulmates because they want some privacy. But then reader gets kidnapped and Spencer is like I know how to find her and the day is saved. I just think that would be really cute but you can ignore this if you want.

A/N: I’ve wanted to do a Soulmate AU for a really long time and this one is so cute and I really tried to make it work and I hope you like it!

————

2 years ago...

“First day. You can do this Y/N.” You said to yourself. You were in the elevator heading to your first day as a profiler for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.

You had worked hard to work for this position for years. You had wanted to be a profiler ever since you were little and heard about Profiling on an episode of Forensic Files.

You took a deep breath as the doors opened and you were face to face with the looming glass doors. You felt a little pull from the string circling your pinky finger.

That’s odd. You thought. Soulmate strings didn’t pull unless you were close to your soulmate. But recently it had been happening to you.

The other week you were at a coffee shop when you felt it tug. You looked after it, and saw it heading into the bookshop across the street, but by the time oh had gotten there, your string had stretched off around street corners.

You looked at your string and saw it leading in between the glass doors.

Maybe my soulmate is one of my coworkers? You thought.

You entered through the doors and saw your string going up a small set of stairs to a room with windows on one side.

Your string tugged again.

As much as you wanted to run up those stairs, you were supposed to meet Agent Hotchner in his office, like you had for the interview a week ago.

After you had met up with Agent Hotchner, (“Please, call me Hotch.”) he brought you to the round table room to introduce you to the rest of the team.

“Everybody, this is my our new Agent, Y/N Y/L/N.” He said. He introduced you to everybody until he reached the person you had been glancing at.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”

You smiled at Spencer as he looked at your strings. There was only a few inches of space in between them, connecting your right pinky finger to his.

Present Day...

“4 victims in North Dakota. Small town, all women in their late 20’s, early 30’s.” Garcia said, showing the victim’s pictures on the board.

“We can clearly see the victimology. They have Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes.” Prentiss said.

“They look as though they could be sisters.” JJ said.

“They’ve all been stabbed several different times.” Penelope said.

“16, then 32, then 48, and finally 64. He’s stabbing them in multiples of 16, and he’s getting angrier.” Spencer said.

“And this timeline is short-only a few days in between victims.” You said.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said.

-

It was three days later and there were no more victims and the case was going nowhere.

“Everybody head back to the hotel for the night.” Hotch said. It was nearing midnight.

Everybody was heading out of the station, except for you. “I’ll catch up. I just want to see something.” You said.

“Don’t stay too long.” Hotch said, heading for the doors. You turned back to the evidence board, twirling a pen between your fingers.

You felt that familiar tug on your pinky finger and turned to face Spencer. “You really should get some sleep.” He said.

“I will. Go on, I’ll be there in a minute.” You said.

Spencer waited a moment longer before turning out of the room and heading for the door. There was a moment of quiet before somwine tapped you on the shoulder.

You turned to see an officer, one you had talked to earlier. His name tag read ‘Jones.’

“Are you the only FBI one left?” Jones asked.

“Yeah, I was just about to head out, but what’s up?” You asked.

“I saw something outside that you should see.” He said.

You followed Jones outside and next to the precinct, your gun out. “What did you see?” You asked. You turned around just in time to see Jones hit you on the forehead with the butt of his gun.

And then it went dark.

-

The next morning, the team walked into the police precinct’s bullpen. “Has anybody seen Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Maybe she overslept. I’ll call her.” Prentiss said. She picked up the phone and let it ring for a few minutes before it went to voicemail.

“She’s not answering.” Prentiss said.

Morgan picked up his phone and dialed it to Garcia. “Hey baby, Y/L/N’s not answering her phone, see if you can get through to her.” He said.

“Sure thing hot stuff.” Garcia said. There was a moment before she said anything else. “Well, that’s strange.”

“What is?” Morgan asked.

“I pinged Y/N’s phone to if she was on her way, but it’s pinging from the precinct.” Garcia said.

“Maybe she left it here?” Morgan said. He began to look around at the tables, hoping to spot Y/N’s phone.

“Oh no no no.” Garcia said.

“What?”

“She never checked into her room at the hotel last night.” Garcia said.

“Hold on.” Morgan put his phone down and turned twoards the group. “Y/N’s phone is pinging from in the precinct and she never checked into her hotel room.”

“Where could she be?” JJ asked.

Rossi turned around from his spot at the evidence board. “Damnit.” He said.

“What?” Prentiss asked.

“Y/N matches the victimology and the preliminary profile shows that the Unsub might be a police officer.” Rossi said.

“Y/N was the last to leave the precinct last night.” Hotch said.

Everyone seemed to deflate as they realized what had happened.

“Captain.” Hotch called out to the police captain. “Did any of your officers not show up for work today?”

“Yeah, Marvin Jones called in sick.” The captain said.

“Garcia get us everything you can on a Marvin Jones.” Morgan said, picking up this phone again.

“I think we can know how to find her.” Spencer said, speaking up for the first time.

Everybody turned to him. “How?” JJ asked.

Spencer took a deep breath. “We’re soulmates.”

-

You woke up to find yourself tied to a chair in the middle of a empty room.

“Jesus.” You muttered, blinking a few times. Your head hurt and you could feel some blood in your face.

“You thought you could just show up and taunt me?” A voice said. Your eyes focused on the man stepping out of the shadows.

Jones, you remembered.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“You look so much like her, I just couldn’t help myself.” Jones said.

You eyes adjusted to the room around you and you realized the walls were covered in pictures of the same woman. One who looked shockingly like you.

“What the hell?” You muttered.

“When Addie died, I knew I needed to find someone like her again. The others...weren’t right, but you, you could be the one.” Jones said. He came close to you and grabbed your chin.

“You could be the one to replace her.”

-

“What do you mean you and Y/N are soulmates?” Morgan asked.

“There’s really only one way to interpret that.” Spencer said.

“She’s worked here for what? 2 years? And neither of you said anything?” JJ asked. “Why?”

“The same reason you didn’t tell anyone that you and Will are soulmates! For privacy. But that’s not the issue right now.”

“Reid’s right. If him and Y/L/N are soulmates, we have a direct line to her.” Hotch said.

“That’s still too broad of an area. We need to find out more about this Jones guy.” Rossi said.

As if summoned, the phone rang with Garcia on the other side.

“Crime fighters, I have got the 4-1-1 on Marvin Jones. 32, from Bismarck. He was married to his soulmate, Addie Reign until she died a few weeks ago on the 16th.” She said.

“That’s why he stabs them in multiples of 16.” Prentiss said.

“I’ve got a picture of Addie and she could be a dead ringer for Y/N, and the rest of the victims.” Garcia said.

“Home and work address?” JJ asked.

“Already sent. Go find her.” Garcia said.

The team split up, heading to both locations. Spencer desperatly hoped his team was heading to the right address. He stared down at his string, begging for it to start tugging.

-

“Now, Addie, won’t some dinner be nice?” Jones asked. He placed a plate on the card table he had set up in front of you.

You stayed silent.

“Addie? Did I make the wrong thing?” Jones asked.

“My name’s not Addie. It’s Y/N.” You said.

Jones’s face fell, and he slapped the plate off the table. “Wrong answer.” He said. Jones reached over the table and slapped you. “Now, let’s try this again.”

“No.” You said. “My name isn’t Addie. Whoever Addie is, she’s gone and pretending I’m her won’t bring her back.”

If it was possible, Jones darkened even more, and pushed the card table out of the way. “Unless you want to end up like the other girls, you’ll be Addie.”

You shook your head no. Jones punched you on the left side of your face.

“If you’re going to be so difficult, I’ll have to fix that.” Jones said. He pulled a switchblade out from his back pocket and stepped twoards you.

-

Spencer let out a sigh of relief. “Y/N’s in here.” He said, looking down at his string. It led directly into Jones’s house.

The team crept up to the house, and Spencer felt his string tug a little. You were still alive.

Morgan moves up to the door and kicked it open. They all stayed silent as they moved through the house.

Spencer followed the string to a door leading to a basement. He nodded to the others and began to go down the stairs.

When Spencer reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw you sitting in a chair, having been stabbed in the arm, with Jones standing behind you with a knife to your throat.

“Marvin, but the knife down.” Spencer said.

“No!” Jones cried out.

“I get that your soulmate died and you’re upset, but but killing innocent people is not the answer.” Spencer said.

“If they would just be Addie, then they wouldn’t die!”

“But the thing is, they’re not Addie so they can’t be her. And now their soulmates are without them.”

Realization of what he had done seemed to sink in on Jones’s face.

“I took someone else’s soulmate?” He asked.

“Yes. You don’t want to take another person’s do you?” Spencer asked.

Jones slowly shook his head and dropped the knife from your neck.

Morgan rushes past Spencer and cuffed Marvin. He bagan to read him his Miranda rights, and Spencer races to you.

He quickly untied you and called for a medic.

“I’ll be fine.” You said, wrapped your unstabbed arm around him. Spencer responded by gripping you tighter.

“I could’ve lost you.” He said.

“I’m right here Spence. In mostly one peice.” You said.

Spencer pulled back and looked at you. “It’s a joke, Spence. I’ll be fine.” You said.

At that moment, the medics rushed into the basement and began to look at your arm.

Both you and Spencer were pushed apart by the medics, but you knew he was there by the simple tug on your string.

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne @just-damn-bored @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @andreasworlsboring101 @zhuzhubii

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #soulmate au #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic

[eliemo]

A Private Understanding

Summary: Virgil knows that despite his best efforts, it’s only a matter of time until things go back to how they were. He doesn’t understand how it could work out any other way. 

TWs: past abuse, past gaslighting

Takes place before “Getting There”

Masterpost

Taglist under the cut

Virgil took a breath, hesitating in the kitchen’s entrance, the world outside the mindscape’s windows still dark and quiet. The sun wouldn’t rise for another twenty minutes or so, and that still gave him over an hour before anyone woke up. 

This was...a terrible idea. 

What if he was breaking some sort of unspoken rule? What if the kitchen was off limits until everyone was awake and he just hadn’t realized? What if he made a loud sound and woke everyone up? What if he made a mess? 

What if he managed to ruin everything so horribly the others decided it was one mistake too many and went back on any promises of safety they’d made? 

Virgil knew, somewhere beneath the layers upon layers of rising panic, that he was being stupid. 

He was trying to do something good, for once. They wouldn’t...they wouldn’t hurt him over that. Not even if he messed it up. 

It had been almost a week since Virgil had explained how things were, almost a week since the light sides learned that hitting Virgil was even an option. 

Almost a week of him making countless mistakes, annoying everyone around him, and probably being overbearing and detrimental to Thomas, and still none of them had hurt him. Not even once. 

Virgil of course, wouldn’t blame them if they did. He wasn’t entirely sure how they planned on putting up with him without the use of punishment. The Others wouldn’t have hurt him so often if it wasn’t helpful. 

But the light sides...so far they hadn’t even seemed tempted. They’d all been so nice to him, and never once had they tried to cancel that out to remind him of his place, of how much power they had over him. 

Virgil may be a part of their family now, they may be friends, but he was still Anxiety. They couldn’t just...pretend he wasn’t. 

But then again, Virgil was starting to realize that they weren’t pretending. 

They didn’t treat Virgil like something he wasn’t. They didn’t push him past his limits, they listened to his concerns and fears, they were patient and gentle when his panic got the best of him and clouded his judgment. 

And over and over again, all three of them would tell him that what he went through wasn’t ok. That he hadn’t deserved the hurt and the fear. That no one- not even Anxiety- should ever be punished like that. 

It was everything he wanted, and yet…

He wouldn’t have been hurt for so long if he didn’t deserve it. That didn’t make any sense. So...so maybe they wouldn’t hurt him. They were too kind to lift a hand against him, even something as small as a simple slap. 

But eventually, they’d regret their decision. Nobody wanted him around, especially if they didn’t have a way to take out their frustration. 

And he’d given them a dangerous amount of leverage to use against him. 

He trusted them. He cared about them more than he knew how to say. He’d dropped the tough-guy act in hopes of being accepted, and they’d welcomed him, let him show them just how scared he was. 

Virgil didn’t want to be punished. He didn’t want to be hurt. He’d do anything to keep it from happening again. 

Nothing was more terrifying than the thought of going back, and they knew that. 

He didn’t...actually think they would threaten to send him back. Not really. Not with the risk of his sudden absence affecting Thomas. And...not when there was a slight chance that they might actually like him. They’d certainly seemed pretty upset to learn what the others had been doing to him. 

But it was still a thought in the back of his mind. The light sides wouldn’t hurt him, but if it came down to it, they could just hand him right over to the people who would. 

So obviously, he just had to make sure that didn’t happen. He could do that- and this was a start. 

He’d seen Patton make breakfast countless times, enough that he thought even he had a chance at not fucking up a few pancakes. 

Still, it was a welcome surprise when he didn’t make a horrible mess or end up burning the kitchen down, a plate full of (hopefully) acceptable pancakes on the table by the time sunlight began filtering in through the window. 

He knew they wouldn’t be nearly as good as the ones Patton made, and really there was no way to tell if they would be edible at all, but Patton seemed exhausted lately, and cooking breakfast was the least Virgil could do. 

He rarely cooked, it stressed him out too much with the others looming over his shoulder- there was always too great a risk of spilling something, or being too loud, or dropping a dish or burning the food and making the room smell like smoke…

He’d been punished accordingly for all of that, but this time he’d actually managed to do...not a horrible job. As much as he hated what happened when he messed up, they did keep him cautious of any mistakes.

 He probably would have fucked the whole thing up if their words weren’t constantly ringing in his head. Reminders to be extra careful- you know what happens when you drop something- or to double check the measurements- if you fuck up something this simple, I swear to god we’ll--

“Virgil?” 

Virgil jumped at the voice suddenly behind him, silently relieved he wasn’t carrying anything he could have broken, spinning around to see a clearly only half-awake Logan in the doorway, peering curiously into the kitchen. 

Patton was coming down the stairs behind him, smiling curiously when he saw the two sides already awake, rubbing his tired eyes behind his glasses. 

“Morning kiddos,” he greeted, sending a lopsided smile Virgil’s way. “What’cha got there, Virgil?”

Somehow the way he said it, genuine curiosity in his question rather than a threatening demand, didn’t send anxiety and dread shooting down Virgil’s spine. It was a welcome change. 

“I, uh, I made breakfast. Pancakes. For you guys, so uh...here you go.” 

He glanced at the plate of pancakes he’d set down, suddenly stupidly nervous. He’d kind of planned on being out of the room by the time they came down to eat, wanting to be out of the way if they decided they were angry with him. 

But Logan’s eyebrow raise didn’t seem annoyed in the slightest, and Patton broke out into a wide grin. 

“Aw, kiddo! That’s so sweet, you didn’t have to do that!” 

Virgil shrugged, forcing himself to relax. They weren’t upset or annoyed- he was ok. “I know, I just...figured you could use the break, you know? Sorry if they’re bad, I don’t really know...I just learned watching you, so--” 

“They look satisfactory,” Logan said, squeezing Virgil’s shoulder as he passed. “This was very thoughtful of you to do.” 

Patton offered him a quick hug, followed by compliments Virgil knew he probably didn’t deserve for mediocre pancakes, quickly making his way over to the table to begin serving. 

“I smell pancakes!” Roman announced, still on the stairs, his voice easily carrying through the quiet of the mindscape. 

The Prince bounded into the room, somehow already wide eyed and glowing, and Virgil wondered how any of them managed to have so much energy so early, while he usually struggled just to get out of bed in the mornings. 

Patton beamed, winking at Virgil as the anxious side took his seat at the table, beyond grateful that he didn’t have to risk handling any more glass plates while all the attention was on him. 

Patton began serving everyone plates as they all sat in their usual spots at the dining room table, filling the room with non-stop praises such as “These pancakes look so good, kiddo!” or “I had no idea you knew how to cook! We should make breakfast together sometime!” 

Virgil just shrugged and smiled, relieved it wasn’t obvious how worried he’d been that they’d all be mad he’d had the audacity to cook breakfast instead of Patton. 

Roman laughed, squeezing Virgil’s shoulder as he sat down and drenched his pancakes in syrup. “I’m just surprised he didn’t end up setting the oven on fire!” 

“Oh please,” he scoffed, forcefully pushing down the panicked excuses and apologies that fought their way to the surface at the accusation. Roman wasn’t angry; he knew what the Prince looked like when he was mad. “Have a little faith in me, Princey.” 

Roman laughed again, and Virgil’s chest no longer felt quite so tight as he allowed himself to smile, glancing at the other’s relaxed expressions. 

The rest of breakfast was exactly what Virgil had learned to expect, jokes and smiles and bickering without malice. The familiar comfort instantly set him at ease, all worries of future punishment fading to the back of his mind. 

“This really was sweet of you, kiddo,” Patton said when the food was gone. “I guess it’s a good thing I overslept a bit, huh?” 

Virgil knew none of them had been sleeping well lately, all of them stressed out and scared since the day Logan had found Virgil in his room. They were losing sleep because of him. 

And there it was again, the aimless confusion that so forcefully overpowered any fear. He couldn’t comprehend why they weren’t upset with him, why they were always so nice. 

Virgil just shrugged, averting his gaze. “I mean, it’s the least I can do, right? After everything you guys have done I just...wanted to say thank you.” 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. 

He might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper-focused on changes in body language, but he saw Roman stiffen in his seat, and he just barely caught a glimpse of the nervous glance Logan and Patton sent each other. 

The tension was gone in an instant, quickly covered up by fond looks and bright smiles, but Virgil was now frantically scrambling to figure out what he’d missed. 

“I...sorry, I just--” 

“Don’t be sorry!” Roman said suddenly, and Virgil jumped at the frantic tone. “You didn’t do anything!” 

Prince looked to Logan, who raised an eyebrow while Patton looked down at his lap, fumbling with his napkin. Virgil suddenly felt like a child about to be told their dog ran away. 

“Of course not,” Logan said. “Apologies, Virgil. No one meant to imply that you had. We only--” 

“We don’t need you to thank us,” Patton jumped in. “You don’t owe us a thing, kiddo. We’re just glad you’re here with us now.” 

Virgil shook his head, bewildered. “No, you...you guys are the ones giving me a chance and I...I know that’s not easy. And I really...really appreciate everything you’re doing.” 

And maybe it wasn’t a lot to them, the little acts of kindness and patient smiles nothing but second nature to the light sides, but...but it meant everything to him. No one had offered him anything this good before. 

But he didn’t want to push his luck by arguing, painfully aware of how easily he could send someone over the edge, so he stood up from his chair and began gathering up everyone’s plates. 

Don’t drop it, don’t drop it, he couldn’t handle them getting angry if he broke anything--

“Oh, I can clean up kiddo!” 

Virgil shook his head, carefully setting the plates down on the counter, letting himself breathe when he made it across the kitchen without anything breaking. 

“I made the mess, Pat,” he said, risking a glance back at the table to make sure no one was getting frustrated. “I got it.” 

“But you--” Logan put a hand on the moral side’s shoulder, and Patton quickly fell silent. 

“If it puts your mind at ease,” the logical side said, sending a meaningful glance towards the other two. “Then we will not stop you. Besides, Patton could use the morning off. Just...please be careful not to overwork yourself, Virgil.” 

Virgil sighed, relieved, briefly wondering once again if Logan had the secret ability to read minds. He always seemed to know what everyone needed, as alienated from emotions as he claimed to be. 

“I won’t,” Virgil promised, flashing what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I can handle it.” 

-

-

Virgil should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep a promise like that. God he was...he was so fucking useless. He was exhausted and terrified of losing the only people who had ever been kind to him in his life, but he’d really thought he would be able to handle it. 

Trembling on the kitchen floor, surrounded by cleaning supplies at two in the morning was the exact opposite of handling it. 

He hadn’t even planned on doing anything! He’d actually forced himself to go to bed at a regular hour, determined to create a somewhat stable sleep schedule. 

But obviously the universe had to remind him how much it hated him, leaving him to lay wide awake, staring at his ceiling for hours with a racing mind until he begrudgingly got up to get a drink of water. 

He should have known better with the way his vision swam with exhaustion, his hands shaking as he wrapped them around the glass, but of course he was stupid enough to try anyway, heart sinking when some of the water ended up sloshing over the edge and onto the tiled floor. 

He hadn’t panicked. He was alone in the dark, the kitchen empty and quiet, everyone else in the mindscape sound asleep. There was no reason to panic. 

But his shaking had only gotten worse as he’d set the glass in the sink, frantically glancing over his shoulder into the hallway to make sure it stayed empty. He grabbed a towel, lowered himself to his knees and began soaking up the water. 

He wasn’t really sure what had happened after that. He’d planned on cleaning up his mess, burying the damp towel at the bottom of the dirty laundry basket so no one would ever know, and then head back to bed to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep. 

But then...he’d found himself stuck where he was, staring at the kitchen floor, letting dark, nagging thoughts force their way to the front of his mind. 

Had he been doing enough? Did they think he was lazy? Was he still worth the kindness? What if they had already made plans to kick him out? 

They weren’t going to hurt him. They weren’t going to hurt him or send him back to the people who would. 

But they could. God, they so easily could and Virgil wouldn’t even fight it. Because he was lazy, and he wasn’t worth the kindness and he deserved to be sent back. 

But he could still convince them otherwise. He could still be better. 

And that was how he ended up pulling cleaning supplies out from under the sink, frantically scrubbing a floor that really didn’t need to be cleaned in the first place, distantly wondering why he couldn’t seem to stop. 

They weren’t upset with him. He’d been pulling his weight, already working himself to the bone to keep Thomas safe. Nobody had even hinted at being annoyed with him or going back on their word to let him live without punishment. 

So...why? Why couldn’t he get the Other’s voices out of his head? Why couldn’t he just forget about how things had been and move on? 

Why couldn’t he just stop being so scared? 

He wasn’t sure when he stopped scrubbing, his exhausted mind instead leaving him sitting on the damp floor, staring blankly at his hands, but it took him a moment to register the movement by the doorway. 

“Virgil?” 

Virgil jumped, dropping the wet cloth in his hand, scrambling back until he was pressed up against the bottom of the kitchen counter. The light from the living room had been turned on, the gentle glow flooding into the kitchen, illuminating the figure standing a few feet away. 

Roman blinked, looking from Virgil, to the cleaning supplies littering the floor, and then back to Virgil again. “What...in the world are you doing?” 

He didn’t sound angry, confused more than anything, but Virgil still flinched at the question. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“You didn’t, I was already awake.” Roman crouched down to Virgil’s level, still keeping a safe distance between them. “What’s wrong?” 

Virgil shook his head, suddenly painfully aware it just looked like he’d made the kitchen cluttered and wet. “Nothing. Sorry, you- you can go back to bed. It’s fine.” 

“You’re scrubbing the floor at three in the morning,” Roman said, frowning when Virgil flinched again. “I may not be Patton or Logan, but I can tell when something’s up, Gloomy Gus.” 

Virgil wondered how he could say that, how Roman could downplay his own abilities compared to the others when the Prince had been the first one to promise him safety, the first one to hold the anxious side in his arms. 

But Virgil didn’t have the energy to point any of that out right now, not when he couldn’t stop trembling and he was struggling to convince himself Roman wasn’t about to strike him. 

“I...I was just cleaning,” he said. “I got carried away, I’m sorry I was- I was gonna put everything away as soon as I was done.” 

Roman didn’t seem any less confused at the explanation, but his tone was still gentle when he spoke. “Did you spill something?” 

But despite it, Virgil still felt like he’d been punched, ice cold dread coiling around his gut as he shrank back, the counter against his back suddenly horribly confining. 

“I’m sorry, it- I was just getting some water and I...I didn’t mean to, I know I should’ve been more careful but I--” 

“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Roman offered a small smile, holding out his hands, all dramatics and jokes set aside. “I’m not upset, no one’s mad at you. And the kitchen looks fine, Virge, so how about I put all this stuff away and we can--” 

“No!” 

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice (it was still pathetically small, but Roman was shocked into silence nonetheless), but the panic only worsened at the offer. 

He couldn’t let the Prince clean up a mess Virgil had made all on his own. It didn’t matter how well meaning he was, it could too easily be used against him in the future, an unbeatable weapon of guilt and shame. 

“N-no, I got it. I made the mess, you...you don’t have to--” 

“How about we clean it up together, then? It’s ok to ask for help sometimes, and I’m up anyway.” 

He was clearly trying so hard, and if Virgil wasn’t so irrationally terrified he might have thought it was sweet. But he was exhausted, the lack of sleep and incoming panic leaving him pretty much useless, and he realized he might be risking making a bigger mess by trying to put everything away himself. 

So he nodded and let Roman help him, the two sides carefully putting the cleaning supplies back where they belong and wiping down the residual dampness on the floor. 

Roman never once stood up, doing everything from where he kneeled on the floor, and Virgil was fairly certain it was an attempt to make Virgil feel more at ease, careful not to tower over him. 

Virgil appreciated it more than he probably should. 

“There we go,” Roman announced when they were done. “See? Easy fix. No need to stress out.” 

Virgil nodded, still in a pathetic little ball on the floor, wrapping his hoodie around himself in a vain attempt to hide the way he was still shaking.

 He expected Roman to leave now, to demand they both head to bed before they lost anymore sleep, but the Prince only scooted forward, sitting cross legged, his knees just a couple inches from Virgil’s. 

“Alright, Hot Topic,” Roman said. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up now? Or are we gonna have to sit here all night?” 

His easy smile was probably the only reason Virgil didn’t immediately start panicking again, but he quickly averted his gaze, struggling to piece through his racing thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence. 

And really, how was he supposed to explain it? How was he supposed to make them see that he just didn’t…

“I don’t understand.” 

Roman didn’t react, just leaned forward slightly. “What don’t you understand, Virge?” 

“You’re not...you’re not angry. I made a mess and kept you awake and you’re not upset. At all. I just- I’m sorry, I just don’t...get it.” 

Even if Roman wasn’t angry, he shouldn’t be this kind to Anxiety. Virgil didn’t understand why he was forcing himself to be. 

“No one’s going to be upset with you,” Roman said softly. “You’re exhausted. We can tell you haven’t been sleeping--” 

“No one’s been sleeping.” 

“But you’re doing it on purpose,” Roman pointed out, and Virgil winced. “You’ve been overworking yourself all week. You cooked us breakfast- I mean look at you, Virgil you’re scrubbing the floor in the middle of the night!” 

Virgil hunched his shoulders instinctively. “I’m sorry.” 

“What? No, no I’m-” he paused, running a hand over his face. “I’m not angry, I promise. I’m worried. Ever since you told us what happened to you, you’ve been acting like...like…” 

He paused again, and Virgil watched as realization slowly hit, his brown eyes widening slightly. When Roman looked back at him, his expression was far too pained for his liking. “Virgil, you don’t owe us anything. You don’t have to convince us you’re worthy.” 

“Yes, I do.” God, why was all of this so confusing? “You guys keep saying I don’t, but I know how hard it is to treat me like this, and I--” 

“To treat you like what?” Roman demanded, growing progressively less gentle. “Like- like an equal? Like someone who doesn’t deserve to get beaten down for every little mistake?” 

Virgil didn’t know why Roman sounded so worked up, because they seemed to be on the same page now. “Yeah? I mean I just...I know it’s a lot of work, and I need to do something to make it up to you. To make it...you know. Worth the effort.” 

That was...the less selfish version of it, anyway. He owed them, he wanted to make their lives as easy as possible, but he was also willing to do anything if it meant getting to stay. 

But Roman didn’t need to know that. Not when it looked like he was already struggling not to be angry.  

“What...what did they say to you? How could you...how could you ever believe you deserve this? Virgil...Virgil, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.” 

And just like that, Roman didn’t look angry anymore. Upset, definitely, but there were tears pooling in his eyes, the distress on his face worse than any physical blow. 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said for what felt like the hundredth time that night. And just like each time before, Roman quickly shook his head. “I-I’m trying to understand but I can’t--” 

“Please don’t be sorry.” Roman’s voice was barely a whisper, but it silenced Virgil immediately. “Don’t...don’t be sorry for what they did to you, alright? It wasn’t your fault.” 

That was debatable, considering everything he’d gone through had happened because he messed something up. But something told him Roman wouldn’t appreciate hearing that right now. 

“It’s not,” the Prince said again, like he knew what Virgil was thinking anyway. Roman moved to rub the back of his neck, an old nervous habit, taking a moment before continuing. “Do...do you think I’m going to hit you?” 

And Virgil wanted to immediately say no, to rush to assure the Prince that he knew Roman would never, that he hadn’t done anything to make Virgil think he would go back on his promise. 

But he couldn’t say that yet. Not truthfully, anyway. But...but looking at Roman now, lowered to the floor to Virgil’s level, eyes flooding with unshed tears...Virgil couldn’t honestly say he expected violence either, deserved or not. 

“I...I don’t think you’re going to,” he said slowly. “I mean, I- I know you won’t. I know that. It’s just...I don’t know. It’s hard to remember sometimes. But- but you promised you wouldn’t. So, I- I trust you.” 

Roman nodded, but didn’t look any less distraught. “Do you think I should?” 

It was asked softly, hesitantly, like Roman was afraid of an answer he already knew. And Virgil wondered if he should be ashamed of how quickly he found himself nodding. 

“God, Virge…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Why? I told you I wasn’t mad.” 

“I know, but I...I spilled, and left all the cleaning supplies out. Everything was a mess and I kept you from going back to bed, and I kept getting confused when you were explaining things and--” 

“I should hit you for being confused?” Virgil flinched, and Roman’s face fell. “I’m...so sorry. I don’t know what they did to make you think that’s the only option for you.” 

Virgil shrugged, wishing he could understand why Roman found this so impossible to comprehend. He thought Roman might be thinking the same thing. “It’s...it’s just easier for everyone. You’ll...figure that out eventually.” 

And really, that was the truth wasn’t it? They were kind, they were good, and they were trying. They meant it when they said they wouldn’t hurt him. They didn’t want to, because they didn’t know him yet. 

Their patience would run out, sooner or later. The Others had been around him for years, they knew better than anyone. No one could be expected to be around Anxiety without getting fed up, and Virgil couldn’t be of use without the pain. 

That was how it was, how it needed to be, and Virgil...Virgil could handle that. He hated it, but he wouldn't duck out again. He wouldn’t do that to Thomas. 

And he still loved the light sides. He didn’t think he could ever stop loving them. It wasn’t their fault that he was like this. And besides, no one had bothered to try this hard with him before. It had still been the best few weeks of his life and if he was lucky, it might last a couple more. 

Roman shook his head, and Virgil’s stomach dropped when he saw the Prince quickly wipe away a stray tear. He looked...heartbroken. And Virgil wanted so desperately to understand why. 

“I don’t go back on my promises,” he said softly. “Nobody will ever lay a hand on you. Nobody will hurt you again. You are never, ever going back. We love you, Virgil, and treating you like we do isn’t a burden. It isn’t something you ever need to thank us for.”

Roman reached forward slowly, his watery eyes never leaving Virgil’s as he moved, and Virgil forced himself not to flinch back. 

When the Prince touched his face, it was soft and delicate, his hand moving to frame his cheek like something fragile he was afraid to break. He held him gently, and Virgil leaned into the touch. 

“You could make a thousand mistakes,” Roman said. “And nothing bad would happen to you, because you don’t deserve to be hurt. You never did, and you never will. Nothing you could do would warrant that kind of treatment.” 

Virgil blinked, his vision going dangerously blurry in the face of Roman’s watering eyes and kind, horribly confusing words. It made his head spin. 

“I don’t…” he paused, clenching his jaw and swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t get it. Roman, I- I can’t...I don’t understand.” 

His voice cracked on the last word, broken and small, and his eyes fell away from the Prince’s gaze. 

“I know,” Roman said, his thumb lightly tracing Virgil’s cheekbone. “But you will. I promise, one day you will.” 

Virgil closed his eyes, letting the tears spill over. His head fell forward, resting against Roman’s shoulder, and he let himself choose to believe in the Prince’s hope, just for a moment.

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[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 1,787 warnings: mentions of food, skipping a meal, fainting

author’s note: part 2 is here and i am excited! i received the support that some of you have given by liking and reblogging and i appreciate it so much! please do share some of your thoughts. i’d love to hear from you. for some reference on what our Prince Wonwoo wore on this chapter during the first few bits: here. 

two: what could have been | masterlist

“What?”

One of these days you’re going to start blaming Wonwoo for the unusual accidents that happen whenever he is around or whenever his name is brought up. It’s a relief that you didn’t trip, again, because you were more than sure that making an abrupt stop while wearing heels can lead to several painful possibilities. 

“You okay?” Jeongyeon was quick to hold on to your arm, helping you find your balance again. She’s definitely not risking anymore injuries especially now that there’s no Doctor Jeon around. 

“What did you just say?” You repeat as you try to compose yourself and start walking across the hallway like how you were supposed to in the first place. 

Jeongyeon blinks at you for a few seconds before gasping, “Oh, right! According to my sources, apparently the long term girlfriend was actually the one for Prince Wonwoo,” she says casually as if she’s just dropping the weather report for the day. “He had plans to propose.”

Propose?

“By sources you mean?” You ask. The lawyer in you is making sure that this is nothing but a baseless rumor and also the rational person in you is making sure your head doesn't get clouded by jealousy.

Me? Jealous? Your left eye twitches at the thought.

“Dr. Kwon also known as Hoshi,” she answers like they have been friends for ten years. “He’s the Prince’s friend from primary school up to medical school.”

“How do you even know this Dr. Kwon?” You ask while narrowing your eyes at her. You are nowhere near done verifying her sources.

Jeongyeon sheepishly smiles before giggling nervously. “Well…”

You sigh. Jeongyeon can be brilliant but she could go overboard at times. “Don’t tell me he works at the same hospital as Wonwoo and you yourself went there?”

“I had to!” She defends, stomping her feet. “You told me to go look up some info and I did. I just wanted to do a good job while I was at it.”

You close your eyes in defeat before pulling her close to whisper a reminder to her ear, “Next time, let’s tone down the enthusiasm, alright?”

She just grins. “No promises.”

Were you threatened by the recent information your assistant just shared to you?

No, of course not.

Were you bothered?

Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent. 

You’re bothered because you can’t help but think about what could have been.

What could have been for Wonwoo and this mystery girl. You suddenly feel terrible. All this time you were okay with this arrangement. In fact, you were beyond okay already. But, how about Wonwoo? Sure, maybe you thought he could be against this marriage. But, it didn’t cross your mind what he could have left behind back home. What he had to give up and what he had to let go.

“Hey.”

All your thoughts and worries flushed down the drain in an instant at the sound of the voice you’re starting to grow fond of.

Wonwoo arrived like a breath of fresh air with his light blue button down and jeans. The glasses are a bonus that you are lucky to see for the first time. You weren’t aware that he wore them. In fact, you have never seen him wear casual clothes until today. If you were frowning earlier, you are blushing now because of how good he looks. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he sincerely apologizes as he walks towards you. “I’m not gonna lie. I overslept.”

Come to think of it, you have been standing outside this terrace for quite a while now. Thinking too much can be a good distraction to the point that you won’t even notice that you have been waiting.

You cleared the rest of the afternoon to sneak in some wedding planning. Meanwhile, Wonwoo decided to take the night shift yesterday and take today off to join you. 

You shake your head and give him a small smile in understanding. “It’s okay. I just arrived too.”

That was a lie, but it doesn’t matter. Especially now, in spite of getting the right amount of sleep, you can tell that he is still tired and sleepy. And, adorable. But you would never let him know that.

“It didn’t look like it though,” he counters, making your brows raise. “You looked like you were already here for a while. A penny for your thoughts?”

Your eyes roll at his teasing tone while he just smirks. 

But then, you figured since he already asked, this could be the right time. “Can I ask you something?”

Wonwoo crosses his arms, pretending to contemplate your request. “It depends. Am I in trouble?”

“No,” you deadpan. “You don’t have to answer though. That’s what I can guarantee.”

“Fine by me.” He relaxes his arms to his sides and stands close to the railing you were leaning your body weight against. 

Well, okay.  Your palms suddenly started to sweat. Maybe it’s a bad idea to pry about his past. What’s the point of bringing it up? What do you need out of this anyway? Why the bother? 

Yeah, let’s just not, you decided to drop it but Wonwoo already beat you to it.

“Let me guess,” the Prince noticed your silence and decided to take the matters in his hands. “Is it about my ex-girlfriend?”

Heat immediately rose to your cheeks, embarrassed by how could you let it get this far. “I’m sorry. Nevermind. Let’s just go inside. They’re probably ready for us.” 

You were fast to lift your feet from the ground and honestly,  if you could, you’d run away and never return. But, Wonwoo was faster. He was faster to grasp your hand and make you stop from taking another step in a heartbeat. 

You’re not one to let your head hang low and avoid eye contact, but here you are doing everything in your power to not meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You’re also not one to grow flustered easily. You always know what and how to make the last say.

But again, here you are tight-lipped and wishing to be buried underground. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he promises while tilting his head to the side, searching for your eyes. “I’m not making fun of you and I understand that it’s inevitable for this to be not brought up.”

You relent by nodding and finally turning your body to face him. “Okay.”

Wonwoo smiles and caresses the top of your head. “This is not something you should be worrying about.”

His brazen touch made you feel small yet comforted. 

“Do you really want to marry me Wonwoo?” You whisper between the two of you. 

He blinks then furrows his brows. “What kind of question is that?”

You frown, you’re supposed to give me an answer. “I just thought that maybe it’s better to call it off already before we regret anything in the future.”

“Y/N,” he calls for your name for the first time. “My past relationship is already in the past. I am not dwelling from what happened and what could have been. I am here now and that’s all that matters.”

“Don’t play smart with me,” you scoff and pull yourself away from him.

But Wonwoo just laughs and tightens his hold. He now holds both of your hands and strangely enough, having his hands entwined with yours is nice.

“Why? Does the princess don’t want to marry me?” 

“I don’t actually have much of a choice, do I?” 

Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to scoff. “Who’s playing smart now?”

You burst into a fit of giggles and Wonwoo does the same. 

It’s kind of scary to feel this way. Feeling so reassured and secured with your relationship with Wonwoo like it was the two of you from the get go. It seems so easy. You are at ease and it terrifies you. 

It’s time for work, you slap yourself back to reality. You can’t continue thinking about Wonwoo especially now when you have matters to take care of and clients to satisfy. You sigh and pick up your coffee mug to sip some only to see that it’s already empty.

You quickly reach for your telephone to request for a refill.

“Coffee? Again?” Jeongyeon reprimands before you could even speak. “Your Highness, this is your third cup and it’s only nine o’clock in the morning.”

You ignore her exasperated tone. “I know.”

“How about some bread instead? You’ve had enough caffeine to last the week.”

“Please just bring me one more,” you plead while resting your palm on your forehead, feeling a headache coming up that could actually last the week. “I promise that would be my last cup.”

You can hear Jeongyeon sigh in defeat before muttering a soft okay.

You should have chosen the bread instead of the third cup of coffee because not less than 15 minutes after drinking it, your stomach feels like it’s burning inside by how painful it is. You thought a glass of water can help minimize or dwindle down the pain but it’s of no help.

What’s worse is you suddenly feel hot in spite of the air condition inside your office being on full blast. Your hand brushes against your face and it is wet. Why am I sweating? You quietly groan as another pang of pain hits you. You think you might vomit. 

Maybe you should go to the restroom or whatever. For now, you just want to move in the hopes that this uncomfortable and sickening feeling would go away. You push yourself up from your chair with a lot of effort because your body doesn’t seem to have any more intention to cooperate with your mind.

You decided you’d rest at your apartment for a while and just go back in the afternoon on the assumption that you’d be fine by then.

Slowly and painfully, you walk to the huge doors of your office and with every step you take, you’re catching your breath. You reach the door and clutch the knob tightly, desperate to grab some painkillers and just sleep this off. 

However, before you could twist the knob and take further steps, you were falling to the ground. Your body doesn’t want to act on your decisions anymore and the pain on your stomach is just way too unbearable, you can’t even stand straight. 

And just on time, Jeongyeon opens your door and enters, chirpy as usual, “Your Highness, you have a visi--- Your Highness!”

You were not sure if your eyes could still register what you saw before you blacked out. But, you were positive that you saw the one and only Prince Wonwoo, one moment smiling and the next rushing towards your limp body on the cold tiled floor.

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #seventeen #wonwoo #fic: ifliys

[obey-me-fics-n-shit]

what do you think would be the most embarrassing things the brothers could do in front of mc? and how might they/mc react?

Huh, this one’ll be interesting. It took me awhile longer than I wanted it to, but here it is :D

Embarrassing things the Obey me! Brothers would do in front of mc

Lucifer:

The most embarrassing thing for Lucifer would be anything that tarnishes mc’s opinion of him. He’s the avatar of pride, so his image is everything to him. If some lower demon were to talk to you about all the less-than-savory things he did during (or even after) the war and his fall, telling you “how brave you are for living with the big and scary Lucifer (and his brothers)” Lucifer would be beyond upset. He’d probably want to get angry and make that lower demon pay, but he would hate to prove their point.

He’s been very careful in making sure that the worst thing you think of him is that he’s strict and has a bit of a temper. On the other hand, he doesnt mind as much if you know some of the nicer side of him, but if Diavolo gets talking about some things he’s seen Lucifer do that are ‘too cute’ he will also be embarrassed. Best case scenario in both situations is just to laugh it off and say something like “haha, not the Lucifer I know.” And let it be, it would crush the poor guy if you were frightened of him for any reason.

Mammon:

Mammon gets embarrassed so easy you could do it without trying (and you have) but the absolute worst thing that could happen would be if those witches he made pacts with ordered him around while he was trying to spend quality time with you, or even worse if they ran into you and him on a day out and ordered him around in front of you. In any case where that is to happen the best way to ease his embarrassment would be to get right back to what you were doing before. when he gets back to you, a quick insult thrown the witches way and a peck on his cheek is a sure fire way to help him feel better quickly.

If it was a rough day beforehand and this happens, he’ll need some extra re-asssurance, because the witches interruption with be the cherry on top that ticks him off. To help him in this case you’ll probably need to sit down with him for a second somewhere and reassure him that you understand that when it comes to those witches somethings are out of his control. He’ll grumble and say something along the lines of “nothings out of control for the great mammon,” but after a pause he’ll thank you for being so good to him and then you can go about your day.

Asmodeus:

Asmo has just about zero shame, getting this boy embarrassed is next to impossible, so when you do see him embarrassed it’ll probably be quite a shock to you. It probably happens when Asmo takes you to Majolish and an old flame of his who he left high and dry tries to warn you against perusing a relationship with Asmo while he’s in a changing room. Asmo comes out to model the new outfit he’s trying for you, only to see you practically cornered by that pesky ex of his. Asmo also has the pleasure of hearing you tell them to “piss off asshole” before you turn to see Asmo in his new outfit.

Asmo isn’t so embarrassed that someone he was intimate with found you gave you a talk, it was bound to happen anyway, what Asmo is embarrassed about is how he wasn’t there to help you. He’s also flattered that you stood up for yourself (and him) but it’s also part of what embarrassed him. He knew how you felt about him but this was the first time it really hit him. For the first time in a long time, his relationship wasn’t purely physical. Asmo immediately takes off whatever he tried on, leaves Majolish without buying anything and he’ll spend the rest of the day showering you with affections and letting you know how thankful he is for you.

Satan:

What gets Satan embarrassed in front of mc is when he loses his temper. It happens on a nice day around the House of Lamentation, when Satan has found out that Mammon sold one of his prized first-edition books for some quick cash. Satan had planned to spend a nice afternoon reading it with you but when he couldn’t find it he called a house-wide search for the thing and eventually Mammon got so fed up with the guilt he told Satan. Needless to say Satan blew his lid. Not in a normal ‘I’m so angry get out of my sight in 3..2..1...” kinda-way, but in a “I’m gonnna rip to shreds before you can even make it to the doorway” angry

you’d been told his anger was frightening, but you’d never seen it this bad, Satan had a moment and he saw you out of the corner of his eye and immediately regretted getting angry in front of you. It’s common knowledge that he’s gotten better at controlling his temper but he also promised himself not to get angry in front of you. He’ll go back to his room to calm down. Give him about three minutes before going in there, you don’t have to say anything he’s great full enough to have your company. Once he’s had a good while to gather himself he’ll apologize and its best to give him a reminder that everyone gets angry sometimes, that venting a little is healthy and you’re there for him. I promise you he will be so touched he’ll damn near cry

Leviathan:

Pretty similar to Mammon it’s not hard to embarrass this poor guy. It’ll probably happen when he gets a new package from Akuzon and one of the brothers (probably Mammon) gets the package first and opens it in front of Levi and you at the breakfast table. Now having one of his games opened itsn’t all that bad, but its a dating sim and one look at the main character makes it pretty obvious that they’re a dead ringer for you. Mammon will let out a roaring laughter and shove the game over to Asmo and Satan, who take turns loudly debating wether or not Levi bought the game because the main character looked like you, or if Levi’s dating you because you look like main character. Obviously this is mortifying for Levi, who snatches the game out of Asmo’s hand and rushes off muttering about how he should’ve known better than to let someone else get the mail this morning.

You should let Levi have a good half-hour before checking up on him. Quietly slipping into his room with a bowl of popcorn you can sit down next to him and ask if he’s started playing his new game yet. “Why do you want to know?” Levi’s gonna ask accusingly, letting him know you wanna spend time with him no matter what his brothers say about him and his game, will make him blush like crazy. The absolute best way to get him to forget all about breakfast though would be to ask him if you could stay and watch while he played. (Bonus points if you use watching him play a dating game as a way to give him pointers on wooing you)

Beelzebub:

Beel is too big, too soft, too precious to be embarrassed about anything. Or at least that’s what you thought, but when he caught sight of you in the stands he couldn’t help the blush that formed, his team noticed. Soon enough they started giving him little “oohs” and “ahhhs” and suggestive winks, saying that he should make sure to show off a little extra just for his “beau in the bleachers” you couldn’t see it from where you were but Beel got even redder and tried to laugh it off and back to practicing. Now this wasn’t the first time you’ve showed up to watch Beel practice, but it is the first time he’s known you were in the stands watching. Every time before you’d sat way in the back and watch for a minute or two before going off to do something else. Today you had no other commitments so you thought you’d stay and support him. But pretty early on you noticed he was fumbling more often than the other times you’d watched. You thought nothing of it, maybe it was just an off day, they happened, after all.

After practice when the two of you were relaxing, you brought it up and asked if he had a bad day before practice. Beel immediately reddened up, but had no qualms about explaining his team got him worked up about you being there and he was trying to look good for you but in the process fumbled up during practice. Seeing a blushing Beel is one of the cutest sights, and seeing that he got embarrassed of your behalf because he was trying to impress you is so adorable you cant help but smile really big at him and give him a quick peck on the lips.

Belphegor:

Belphie ended up embarrassed because you had spent a lot of effort into making up a nice night for he and you to go stargazing, but three hours before you were going to set off for your date he persuaded you into a nap. Belphie woke up before you did and when he looked at the time he saw that the two of you were supposed to leave an hour ago. He wanted to go back to sleeping and pretend in the morning like it was a big goof and you could go out another night, but he instead decided not to let all of your hard work go to waste. He softly shook you awake and while you were still recovering from your impromptu nap he had persuaded you to take, he explained that the both of you had overslept. He was so upset and embarrassed that he had ruined the date you planned but instead of you getting upset with him like he expected, you laughed. After you got yourself together you looked at Belphie “you know the starts will still be there even though we slept in, yeah?” Oh. Now Belphie understood why you laughed, but it didn’t really make him feel much better that you laughed about it after he felt so bad.

It’s written all over Belphie face that this whole deal got him upset, so you rolled out of bed, and pulled in your shoes “if we go now we can watch the stars, ill go grab the picnic basket from the fridge and hope Beel hasn’t beaten us to it.” You stopped by Belphie to pull him into a big hug before he got to his feet and joined you to go start your date.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #annon ask #anon #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me headcannons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me hc

[jamilelucato]

Best Teacher, Part 3 || Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: y/N is a pureblood Slytherin best friends with Harry Potter, but not yet that close to the Weasleys until she’s invited to spend Christmas with them.

PART 1 || PART 2

A/N: It’s the last chapter, hope you’re all just excited as I am. I must say, it would have been better if I had published it on Christmas but I just couldn’t wait. So, if you want my advice, reread it on Christmas.

*gif below actually mine and I'm so proud

The first thing you realised when you got out of the bathroom was that you had the wrong wand. At first sight, you had no idea why or how. It was only when you kept on thinking that you remembered when you could have swapped it.

The night before had been... well, interesting, to say the least. You could still feel Fred's touch, even if it had passed hours. Heck! You had showered and you still could smell his perfume on you! 

To any help, once you finally managed to quiet your thoughts and sleep, he was there, visiting you in your dreams, just to kiss you again.

You were not complaining, though. Yeah, yeah, you had a resting bitch face when you got downstairs, which caused Ginny to ask you if anything was wrong.

"Slept on my wrong side, I guess" you answered, short and sharp.

She looked at you like she couldn't recognize the girl in front of her, and, to be fair, neither could you. You tended to be grumpy, especially in the morning, but never that grumpy.

It didn't make sense. You had just been kissed like you had been waiting your whole life to, and now you walked around acting terrible.

The Weasley Twins were not yet on the breakfast table. The boys — all of the boys in the house — were late for breakfast, that was their mom's complaint in the morning.

"I just know they are up to something, I know they are" she finished, seeing you and Ginny walk in. "Good morning, girls".

You tried faking a smile, but it felt too hard so you gave up. Mrs Weasley didn't even notice, going back to the stove, not waiting for a reply. You sat right next to Ginny, avoiding the chair where you were happy to sit one day ago.

"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. You were not able to conclude if she meant all her brothers or just the twins, but you were curious just like her.

"Percy's in the bathroom" Mr Weasley answered, not showing his face because of the newspaper he held. "Ron and Harry overslept, I suppose."

You started madding up, desperately wanting to know the explanation for Fred and George's disappearance. They were, surprisingly, generally the firsts to eat breakfast and their absence on the table made your stomach boil up.

"Want an egg, dear?" Molly asked you after placing a scrambled egg in front of her daughter.

"No, thanks. Not that hungry today" your answer surprised Mrs Weeasley, but she didn't bother insisting. 

You were avoiding asking about the twins, but after pouring yourself a cup of milk — and remembering the night before — you just couldn't take the unknown anymore. "Where are Fred and George?"

Ginny was the first to look at you, slowly smiling as she was understanding your curiosity. She, before even you, noticed you three were up to something bigger than pranking everyone in the house. You suspected she even knew about the secret midnight getaways, but she was too embarrassed to say a thing. 

Mrs Weasley pointed a finger at you, letting go of the frying panhandle in a gasp. "See? The visitors noticed it is weird!" her voice was louder than before, her eyes wide open at Mr Weasley direction.

The husband let go of his newspaper, which fell on his lap. He rolled his eyes — a habit that you now understood it was very common for the Weasleys.

"Dear Merlin, woman, I believe they are alright. If they were up to no good, we would have known by now" he said, in a fail attempt of calming down his wife.

Molly simply got back facing the house's stove, but she didn't look pleased. "I swear if I catch them doing evil spells again..." but she never finished her threat.

Percy finally got down to the kitchen, sitting at his father's right. "Good morning, family. Good morning, y/N."

You were in no mood of being nice so you just mockingly smiled at him. Ginny chocked with her mug on hand, almost spitting the drink.

Harry and Ron came down the stairs laughing, but their giggles died once they sat on the table. Harry was polite enough to wish us all a good morning, but Ron didn't do so, he just sat next to you with a weird expression on his face.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, realising the missing pieces of the breakfast table.

"They weren't in their rooms," Mr Weasley said, finally revealing to you what you had been most curious about. "So I don't know where they can be."

Alas, that only left you with a lot more questions. What could they possibly be doing? Was it your fault? Could Fred have asked for his twin's help to disappear from the house just because you kissed him? If that was the case, good Merlin, your mood for the morning was less than appropriate. That was it. Fred hated you and was disgusted by the kiss. You were a shame for your name.

"They are not planning on dye my hair again, are they?" Ron asked, facing you. 

You shook your head. "Don't ask me, I don't quite understand those two myself" you replied, drinking all your milk with one gulp.

Ginny was about to burst into laughter, so she filled her mouth with her mom's scrambled eggs. Ron, on the other hand, kept on staring at you, like he was trying to catch something you didn't say. Harry looked at you sympathetically but said nothing.

Even after breakfast, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley kept on arguing about their missing kids, and you were eavesdropping, in hopes to listen to anything at all that could contain important information.

"That's rude, did you know?" Harry's voice whispered. You looked back to face the boy that had a smile. He sat next to you on the couch while you closed the book you held in case you needed a disguise since that didn't work out.

"It's just... I'm worried" you confessed, unwilling to pretend. Harry was the one you used to tell everything, so why not this? He might be able to help you, anyway.

"They're fine. They got my invisibility cloak this morning, so I think it's some prank they're organising" Harry explained, pressing his lips together at the end of the sentence. He seemed more worried about you than the boys, and you thought that could only mean you didn't have to worry.

"You allowed it?" you asked, knowing how much that cloak meant to Harry.

"I owe them a lot. Besides, they'll return it to me." he shrugged.

You stared at your best friend for a while, not knowing what to say. One thing was telling him that you were concerned about the twins' escape; telling him that you might have feelings for Fred was a whole other.

Harry Potter sighed. "Look, I don't know how to say this but... I'm sure he feels the same"

His commentary caught you by surprise.

"What?"

"Fred Weasley," Harry said, like that explained everything. Noticing you were still very much confused, he added: "This mix of thing you're feeling, he's totes feeling the same"

You raised an eyebrow at that information. There was a reason for you to have been friends with Harry besides all the odds — you two understood each other in a level that no other two persons have ever. It was like that when you found him about to cry on your second year, and it was like that right now, with him staring at you as he knew of your secrets.

"Am I that obvious?" you asked, giggling nervously.

He smiled, sympathetic. "I don't think so 'cause he and Ron haven't noticed it yet"

"Ron?" you replied, perplexed, which caused Harry to laugh a bit too loud.

"Yeah... He thinks you plan on killing his brother or something" he revealed. "I don't blame him, you do look at Fred sometimes like you want to explode his head"

"Yes! Because he's so dimwitted!" your exclamation made you both burst into laughter, so much, you lost your breath. 

It was good talking to Harry and realising your friendship was still pure and genuine, even if Harry's life was in danger all the time and you sounded like a spoiled child.

"Wait a minute" once you calmed down, a question popped in your head "When you say only Fred and Ron doesn't know about — hmm my crush, let's say — you mean that the rest of the family knows?"

"Well of course! George is even jealous of how much time you two have been spending together!" Harry said, leaning closer to you "Ginny thinks it's cute, on the other hand"

You glanced at him, with smirk "Ginny, huh? Talking to her a lot, are we?" He rolled his eyes. 

"Don't be stupid" his phrase made you start laughing all over again.

***

When George and Fred finally showed up, the sun was almost gone.

Molly Weasley awaited for them close to the front door, holding somewhat of kitchen utensil, that you weren't able to recognize due to the distance.

You, Ginny, Ron, Percy and Potter were having a picnic outside. After the food was all eaten, Percy got back to his room, but the rest of you stayed there, laying on the tablecloth on the grass, watching the clouds and making jokes. 

It was Ron that first saw his brothers arriving because he heard his mom's screams. To be fair, it didn't take long for all of you to hear her screams as well.

Ron desperately wanted to get up and be closer to the scene, but Ginny advised him it'd be better to stay. His mom could start punishing him too.

"WHERE WERE YOU TWO??" Molly asked, making herself heard all around the neighbourhood.

Fred had Harry's cloak on his hands, you recognized it, but he also had a bag in his hands that you didn't know what could it be.

George looked scared of his mom, so he was the first to talk. Although you couldn't hear him — differently from his mom, he wasn't screaming —, you imagined he was explaining where they went 'cause he held up to white plastic bags.

"YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME! OR LEAVE A NOTE! THERE WERE SO MANY ALTERNATIVES!" Molly pointed out, making the twins duck their heads.

You could swear you heard they say "I'm sorry" and then she let them in. Not before exclaiming "After you come back from Hogwarts, you won't be allowed out of the house!"

You wondered if she was gonna remember that punishment once they were back.

"Where do you think they were?" you asked Ginny.

"I think they went to buy presents," Ginny said, not looking at you, still facing the house entrance.

"HA! As if our brothers would buy us anything" Ron had a weird face on and got up as soon as he realised the path was clear.

"I didn't say it was for us" Ginny replied, turning slowly to face you. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the eyes to fall upon you too.

"Bloody hell" grunted Ron, before rolling his eyes and forcing Harry to leave with him.

***

Christmas Eve was an event of not much importance at the y/L/N household. Her mom would make the house-elves put on some decorations for Christmas, like a tree and maybe some lights, but that was that. They would have a bigger than the already big dinners the house had, y/N's parents would give her presents, and after that, they'd go to bed. 

No hugging near the fireplace, no jokes about the holiday and no visit of the rest of the family to fill the house. To feel a bit less lonely,  you used to ask the three house-elves of the house to eat with you at the table, however, they generally refused. To make it up, you'd leave after dinner to eat some cake with them in the kitchen.

All that way of celebration was nothing close to the Weasleys' Christmas Eve. After the twins' arrival, Molly Weasley put all the kids to work, instructing you where to put every single decoration she had stored, and she had a lot. Percy and Mr Weasley got responsible for the tree, and they did a pretty good job with it.

Ginny would make you laugh now and then because she used to stop decorating the walls to put the ornaments on herself.

Although avoiding each other, you'd lock eyes with Fred from time to time, you simply couldn't avoid it. To break the stares, Ginny would fake cough right next to you, in a way of calling out your attention. It helped, because, you were not in the mood to gaze at Fred. 

Ok, it might have been you the one to run away after the kiss, but it was in the middle of the night. Besides, he was the one missing in the next morning, so, some part of your brain decided that he should be the one to talk to you first. The only problem was that he didn't seem ready to do so.

"Dinner's ready, kids!" Mrs Weasley called out for you all.

You followed Ginny, sitting right next to her like you had done it in the morning. Fred faced you, confused by your change of seats, but he didn't say a thing. Molly had prepared such a big feast that you were surprised she could have done it all on her own. Of course, the meal at your house was way bigger, but you couldn't blame her, she just didn't have house-elves for the rescue.

"It tastes like Heaven, Mrs Weasley!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your pleasure for the deliciousness that woman had prepared.

The Weasleys' mom smiled shyly, her cheeks turning red. "Well, thank you, y/N! It's nice to hear such a good compliment! You guys should learn with her."

The way she replied made you selfconscious. Ron immediately faced you, with an angry look, like you had ruined his whole life. Mr Weasley and Percy were smiling at your politeness, but you couldn't see because you were facing the only one you shouldn't.

Fred Weasley lifted his eyes from his food to you, trying to hide his smile. The truth was that he was really happy to see you hit it off with his mom.

"Oh, and dear, what did I say about my name?" Mrs Weasley said, forcing you to face her instead of Fred, which you were thankful.

"Sorry, Molly" you replied, using her name. She smiled back at you.

*** After everyone got full with not only the dinner but also the dessert, Molly cleaned the table without letting you get up.

"Wait, you fools. I want to give you your presents" she said, getting up from her chair. She got a plastic bag from somewhere behind her seat and started distributing what looked like handmade winter clothes.

"There you go, husband... Percy... Dear Ginny" she stopped herself to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Harry, I got you something too. As well for you, y/N, just let me find it" she sank her hand further into the bag.

"Oh, but there was no need, Mrs... Molly" you said, correcting yourself along the away.

"Nonsense" she returned, finally getting what she looked for from the bag. "Fred and George, here you go."

"Matching scarfs! Nice!" Fred commented, smiling to his brother. They wrapped the scarf around each other's necks.

"Now, we can look identical!" George added, making his mom roll her eyes.

"Here's yours, Harry" she gave Harry a black scarf, that had an 'H' in one of its ends. She turned herself at you, holding a golden-like scarf, much like the ones with the twins. "I had trouble with yours, dear. Ginny warned me you were coming at the last minute and..."

"Hey, no worries, Molly. You didn't even need to give me something!" you thanked her, interrupting her attempt of justification. She then let you get the scarf from her hands. You weren't wrong to think it was like the twins' one. It was one of the twins' one, Fred's actually because there was a big 'F' in one of its ends.

"I didn't realise I had already done one for Fred" she started, ducking her head, afraid of your reaction. "If you'd like, I can redo it until the end of the holiday, and, you know..."

"Molly, Molly" you interrupted, holding her arm, trying to calm her down. "It's ok. I like it this way."

"Damn right she does" Ginny muttered, and you kicked her under the table.

"Besides, I don't think Fred has a problem with it, do you, Freddie?" you asked, finally facing him. 

He was caught by surprise, swallowing hard before returning with a quick comment. "The 'F' looks good on you" and then he winked, making you blush.

Mrs Weasley seemed relieved of the way you handled things and smiled to you. "I'm glad you are here this year with us. I'll hope you'll come next years"

"Oh, she will," Ginny remarked again just so she could win another kick of yours.

"I have presents for you all as well. I mean, I couldn't come without presents" you said, getting up. "Just wait."

You left to Ginny's room, so you could get the presents you had bought at Hogsmeade for all of them. You even had caught presents for Bill and Charlie, because you didn't know they wouldn't be there.

"You didn't have to, dear," said Molly Weasley when you got back to downstairs. You nodded, "It's almost nothing, I mean, I got you all some candy from Honeydukes", you smiled showing your teeth, "It's barely a present."

You started passing the candy to everyone since they were all the same, it didn't matter to who you were giving.

"Well, thank you," Mr Weasley said, causing your cheeks to turn red. He was a very poilite but quiet man, quite different from the rest of the family.

"I've got ones to Bill and Charlie as well, 'cause I didn't know they wouldn't come. Can you give it to them, Molly?" you asked, politely.

"Sure," she said, running her hand to your back.

"What about our candy?" Fred and George asked together, which caused the table to laugh.

"Well, I knew there were things more important than candy for you two, so..." you got the last items inside the bag you had in your hands, "Bilton Blimes told me these were things you have been looking for ages but were never able to find."

The twins looked at you shocked, both their mouths wild open, which caused you to laugh. "I'd say after this morning you guys don't deserve it..."

"They don't" an angry Molly Weasley commented.

"...but I wouldn't use it anyway" you continued, giving them their precious little toys.

Percy was the only one at the table that was not laughing at Fred and George's faces. Even Molly gave in, giggling a little.

"Now, off of here, I need to clean up" she ordered, probably desperate to hide her smile from her kids.

Mr Weasley stayed with his wife, to help her with the dishes, which you thought was too cute of him. Percy was the first to leave the table, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny, they were playing with each other, trying to steal one another candy. You just rolled your eyes at them.

"Thank you, so, so much, y/N!" exclaimed Fred, walking in your direction, holding his little toy in his hands, unable to take his eyes off of it.

"Yeah, y/N, thanks! If my brother isn't keeping you, I'd gladly do it!" George said, laughing. Fred slapped his back, but the twin didn't even move. He left the kitchen faster, leaving you and Fred on the slow walk you two were doing.

You didn't want to be the first to talk, but you needed to say something. Fred seemed to be feeling the same, but he didn't open his mouth. When you were brave enough to say something, he started talking with you. "So I" you both started together.

You stared at each other, embarrassed. "You go first," he said at the same time as you. You looked at him, ashamed again, and then you both break into laughs. He touched you in your elbow, suggesting with his eyes to the stairs. You headed that way, sitting on the second step.

"I'm sorry I run away last night" you started saying, avoiding looking at his eyes. He sat next to you. He reached for your hands, leaving the present you had just gave him on the upper step. "I'm sorry I disappeared this morning."

You both stared at each other, taking in a moment to just stay in silence. Neither of you cared to say that it was ok because you knew that wasn't the problem. You weren't worried about the disappearance but worried about what it had meant. What the kiss meant.

"So..." you began but couldn't finish. You weren't brave enough to be the first to mention it and by the looks of it, neither was he.

"I... hm, I've got you something. For Christmas" he said, swallowing dry. "It's in my room."

You didn't know what he was expecting you to say.

"Come, I'll show you" he squeezed your hand, before getting up and helping you do the same.

He guided you through the stairs, without letting go of your hand. He stopped at the sight of a door — you supposed it was his — and opened it, slowly. "Sorry for the mess."

"No worries" you smiled because the room was actually cleaner than what you expected to see from the bedroom of the biggest pranksters of Hogwarts.

He had to let go of your hand to kneel before his bead, to get something that was underneath it.

"Here," he said, getting up. "Take it, it's yours."

You took the box from his hands, scared of what could be inside. 

"It's not a prank, come on" he smiled, noticing you were afraid to open it.

You undid the lace, taking the cover of the box. Inside, your wand looked like as if it was just new.

"We swapped it" he pointed out, while you took your wand of the box. It felt nice to have it in your hands once again. 

His wand, the one you've been carrying around all day was placed on your boot. You bowed to get it and returned it to the rightful owner. "Here you go," you said, trying to smile even though you were a little disappointed with his gift.

He giggled at you while getting his wand. "That's not your present, y/N. Look closer to the box."

After hs advise, you came upon noticing the box had a spell, probably the Undetectable Extension Charm. You reached further inside the box, trying to find whatever Fred could have hidden.

"It's a quaffle!" you exclaimed, getting the ball outside of the box. It looked new, its red appearance shining.

Fred giggled at your reaction.

"Why a quaffle?" you asked, confused with the quidditch ball chasers use to score. Yeah, you had learned a couple of things.

"Well, I saw how happy you get playing quidditch and I want you to keep on playing" he started, looking deep into you eyes "I like seeing you happy."

He shrugged like he had said something of the least importance. You stood on tiptoe so you could reach him and kissed him on the cheek. 

He swallowed, his cheeks turning redder than his hair. "You'll keep on playing?"

"Of course! If you keep on being my teacher" you suggested, satisfied with your attempt of sassiness.

"Oh, you are a keeper" he commented, making you chuckle because of the double meaning of the sentence. It made you even happier once you realised that he might have been using the word's double meaning from the very beginning.

"FRED WEASLEY, WHERE ARE YOU?" you listened to a scream, probably coming from the living room.

"MOM, I'LL BE DOWN IN A SECOND!" he shouted back, making you laugh hard.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT!" his mom shouted back. Fred rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if she noticed that I'm not downstairs as well" you pointed out, holding the quidditch ball with only one hand.

"Ginny must have covered you up, which I see George wasn't able to do for me," Fred said, his tone showing discomfort.

"Then, let's go. What are you waiting for?" you said, reaching for his hand to take him downstairs. It was funny, you tough, coping his mom's words.

"For this" he answered, taking his free hand at your waist, pulling you closer to him. The encounter of bodies made you let go of the quaffle, that fell upon the floor without any noise.

Fred leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. This time, there was no hush. You both have been waiting to repeat that for so long, that when it finally happened it was like the world had stopped just to let you two kiss in peace.

He embraced you tighter and tighter, and although, you needed time out for breathing, you didn't let go of each other.

You didn't know how long had passed when you finally got away from each other.

"Merry Christmas" Fred wished you, his voice a bit rough from the long snogging session.

You smiled at him.

"Merry Christmas, Fred."

#fred weasley #fred #fred and george #fred and george weasley #fred weasley gif #hogwarts #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #christmas #christmas imagines #quidditch #keeper #fred weasley imagine #fred and george imagine #the weasleys #harry potter #hp #hp imagines

[commander-orca]

COTW FANFICTION

CHAPTER 9: THE BROKEN AT EACH OTHER’S THROATS

“Hello Kannavi! Itia greeted, stepping into the infirmary through the front door.

She wore a tunic from here she’d been given on the first day, after the treatments. Her brown hair, still very soberly tied, was discreetly tousled by the wind and her monocle bore the traces of the sun on the glass. She seemed relaxed and the smile on her face, although shocking at first had gradually become one of the expressions she was wearing the most.

"… Hello Itia," the latter replied hesitantly, looking up from his remedies. "Tell me, weren't you supposed to stay in bed for five more days here so the wounds would heal well?" "

Itia nodded in his direction, keeping her smile, bathed in warm light.

“No worries, I'm counting on it. It’s just that I’ve gone out to listen to Suoh's speech.

-Ah. And how was it? "

The young woman raised her palms to the sky, showing that she had no particular opinion.

" I don’t know. He didn't show up.

-Oh ".

The rays of sunshine which accompanied her arrival faded once the door closed with a heavy slam and the room was plunged back into the shadow. Itia quickly took off her shoes and hung her jacket on the coat rack. Kannavi’s eyes followed her as she strolled across the room to her assigned bunk to sit comfortably, legs under the sheets. She breathed peacefully, her chest heaving in regular gusts of air and was mentally present. This carefree, almost lazy air was also new to her, who always seemed wary in Empire territory. Kannavi kept his inner remark to himself and went back to work, rolling up his sleeves.

He was busy crushing herbs in a mortar, then pounding them with a roller, doing a bit of a botched job. He had fallen behind on the chores he had been given for today since he had failed to wake up on time. Fortunately, the infirmary was half empty, most of the patients were still sleeping and Itia's excursion benefitted him well since she didn't seem to have noticed that he had only emerged from bed half an hour ago. Using the excuse of a new environment disrupting his sleep schedule might work for a while, but people here would eventually find out that he wasn’t actually very punctual. However, keeping up appearances for a while wasn't bad in itself; this would allow him to form a new, more flattering temporary image before inevitably one would decide to fire him. In addition, this job was not stressful and did not have the constraints of a superior on your back screaming at you all day that you sucked, unlike back in the Empire. This job was pretty relaxing. So, Kannavi would push himself to work hard and try to stay affiliated for as long as possible.

There were only a few things that really mattered in his life. Making sure you didn't end up on the streets or in jail was one of the most important things. The rest didn't matter. Since childhood, he had had little free will in the end, lugged from family to family like a trinket. Then the army. All these things had been decided for him, without him having a say or being able to influence the course of it and yet, it did not bother him that much. Making decisions for oneself seemed to affect people with crippling anguish and give them all the tools for an even stronger grudge against themselves. That didn't mean he wasn't attached to anything. The young nurse was careful never to stray too far from Orca. But Kannavi preferred his little quiet position; the rudder of his life was not in his hands, he was content being carried by life, chance, people, and if he found himself in an unpleasant situation, he would only have to wait until it would pass. Knowing that we wasn’t at fault for the misfortunes that befell him, or those of others, was a calming thought.

The water in the pot began to boil and he set the temperature to low. He lifted the lid, added the few mint leaves he had pre-cut and the herbal powder he had crushed. The water immediately took on a reddish tint. He replaced the lid on the container.

Rather than a fear of trying or failing, the reason was outrightly simpler than that: Kannavi really didn't wish for anything. Nothing really arose any desires and that surge of excitement others sometimes had looking at their goal from afar, motivating them to work harder, was relatively unknown to him.

"Excuse me if I'm disturbing ...", asked suddenly Itia's voice hatching through the hissing of the pan, "But can I talk to you about something?" 

Kannavi raised an eyebrow, astonished by this wording. People never came to him for serious discussions. Hands caught in the herbs, he continued to extract their juice and stir it vigorously in a bowl. Without looking back, he said:

“It depends on what you want to talk about. I am often told that I am not very delicate, you know ... "

Behind his back, Itia's voice grew more hesitant. The blankets had just moved and she too, making the slats of the bed creak. Outside, a gust of wind shook the windows and the shutters creaked against the walls; the weather was getting colder.

"I know, but ... I have the impression that you are the only one who can really enlighten me on that topic”.

-Mmh. Go ahead... "

At that moment, the door to the infirmary swung open and cracked loudly against the back wall. A clear, confident voice exclaimed, echoing through the room:

“Kannavi! "

Itia jumped up and fell silent, crouching in the back of her bunk, disappointed. Taken by surprise, Kannavi whirled around, his gloves dripping with berry juice beading on the floor. Orca strode towards him. He looked cheerful and more light-hearted than he had been in the past few days, which reassured him. When he had visited his friend at his place a few days ago, Orca had subtly tried to hold him back, stealing part of his night before he had returned to his own hut. The young nurse suspected nightmares, linked to their last adventures perhaps ... However, he was dumbfounded to find him here; usually, he refrained from visiting the most vulnerable and from mingling in the places where the inhabitants gathered.

Orca grabbed his shoulders, half laughing, half teasing. His pale hair twitched at the rhythm of his smile.

"Kannavi, I thought I was going to die of laughter ... I walked out of the council and ... Saw you take a sprint all the way here half-dressed ... I see someone overslept again!

The nurse gritted his teeth and turned a quarter of a turn to glance over his shoulder; he could feel stares on him. Awakened by this sudden animation in the infirmary, a few patients sat in their beds and were now staring at them with a disapproving air. Kannavi grabbed him by the arm, a small displeased pout clearly visible on his face. What an idiot. The duality of his personality was probably a little too strong at times: playing the eloquent strategist at important meetings and immediately switching to a carefree joker when he was no longer doing anything related to his personal affairs and interests. That was probably why he got into so much trouble.

"Oru ... Lower your voice a bit!  Come to the back-shop ... And you just ruined my coverage! I'm going to be fired now ... "

Orca took a quick look around and looked as though he had finally realized the presence of the convalescents. He immediately put his hand to his lips, feeling sorry. Nodding, he quietly followed the direction his friend was pointing. But it would have been to be underestimating Itia who sat up on her pillows, looking furious and threw her legs to the side, ready to jump.

“Wait… Kannavi !?, Itia exclaimed, whose mind had just connected the dots to Orca's words,“Did I hear correctly? You just arrived ?

-Uh ... "

Kannavi readjusted his apron, looking for something to make up or justify. But frankly, there wasn't much to say… He sighed, giving up any attempt to lie.

Orca watched him, putting his hand over his mouth once again, but most likely hiding a chuckle this time around.

“Itia, please come too. If you want to reprimand me, reprimand me in the back-shop”.

Itia got up hastily from her bed, her face closed and fists clenched, and walked in a straight line towards the storage room.

"And that I will do," she muttered through her teeth. "You too, Sir Orca".

Orca raised a few fingers awkwardly at her as she walked past him, a sly smile on his lips.

“Hello Itia.

"Hello Sir Orca," Itia retorted, coldly, as if she had just returned a mockery.

Her figure disappeared under the beaded curtain that separated the main room from the storage area. The brown beads tinkled for a few moments, knocking against each other, hinting between their strings the shape of a shelf and medical posters stuck against the yellowed walls, then froze again, giving the curtain the air of a real wall. Silence fell in the infirmary. Orca exchanged a look with Kannavi, Kannavi's wide eyes meant he was expecting to be given some wild dressing down. His friend nodded, pulling his long hair to the side and shrugging, silently exposing him that he didn't know what he had done to get there. The two men followed her, both looking constrained and sheepish. Kannavi entered the storeroom and leaned against one of the shelves containing the syringes, stethoscopes, and other essentials. Orca removed a stack of papers from the old chair and sat down, bringing the papers to his knees. Itia, for her part, closed the door to the storeroom and remained standing in order to appear more authoritative. She crossed her arms, looking at them in turn, saying nothing. Orca turned his head, pretending to be captivated by the medical scale. He whispered faintly to his friend:

"Ah ... I don't like it when she does that." It means she will -

- Tell me, are you not being serious ?! "

Orca stopped talking immediately, blinking several times. Fury shook Itia's voice, the two of them didn't have to look at her to know that.

"Do you think you are on a vacation or staying at a hotel? Think you can afford to skip your assigned duties and lounge around all day ?! "

“Itia…” Kannavi began, taken aback, “I must have told you already, but… I'm not very good at keeping a job. But I’m trying, obviously. I don't want to lose this job, it's the quietest I've had so far ... "

Itia's face took on a more scarlet color. Swooping down on the young nurse, she grabbed one of the flyaway locks sticking out of his head.

"I can’t believe it! Is that all you care about, Kannavi ?!

–Not my hair Itia, please, ”he begged,“ They still have to grow! "

Orca stared at them, alarmed and hastened to cover his own hair with his hands.

Itia released a panicked Kannavi and walked away. In the corner of the room was an old, moth-eaten desk, neglected because of its disparate surface area that made it difficult to disinfect. The young woman grabbed it with both hands and pulled it with her. She brought it to the center of the room, in front of the two men, after much effort and squeaking. Perched on the table, her legs hanging out to the side, she smirked. It was a more than satisfying sight: these two slackers, looking at her from below, somewhat tense, anticipating what her next move would be. A rare sight that neither of them turned a deaf ear to her or only half-listened to her! But, remembering what she had to say, she lost her smile and granted them a serious expression.

“I believe you’re still caught up in your illusions or you just don't realize, but these people are our only chance to have a normal and maybe even happy life. We hurt them tremendously, many of them died under our attacks. And yet, they’re forgiving us! "

She paused, scrutinizing them closely. Strangely, a glimmer of full attention burned in Kannavi's eyes and he had shed his slumped position. On the contrary, Orca was looking away, occasionally smoothing out the folds of his dress over his crossed leg.dominant, but his wiggling pupils in their sockets, proved that he was also drinking her words.

“We need to give them reasons to trust us a and to have forgiven us! If all goes well, maybe they will allow us to live here. It would be convenient, we who have nowhere to go now! But it is not by botching your work - Itia stared firmly at Kannavi - or by doing nothing - she let a glare fall on her superior - that they will come to consider such a thing!

Kannavi held up a quiet hand, hoping to be able to place a word. He made a small thoughtful sound, but avoided completely contradicting the young woman. His hair still had a long life ahead of it.

"Excuse me, Itia, but I think Orca does a lot for the Clay Whale. He participates in all the councils and has recently started on guard tours ... "

Orca turned his head towards him, eyebrows raised. Itia scowled, looking annoyed. Her hands took the shape of a triangle as she looked up at the ceiling light.

"I know that, Kannavi, but you see, I think Sir Orca has to work twice as hard as we need to."

“Not to the point of collapsing anywa—” the other protested, before being interrupted by Orca who had placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, as if making a call for him to stop.

“No need, Kannavi. She's right. I have to try harder ”.

Kannavi stared at him flatly; Orca was already very involved. Was it possible to try harder? Itia, meanwhile, fixed her pair of eyes on the commander, as if she was rediscovering him. He rarely admitted his wrongs. It was a good thing, it put her in a good mood.

“Anyway, we owe them a lot and I think it is essential for us to help. I can clearly see the efforts of Sir Orca ", she resumed, in a more tender voice,"And I see, given the level of fatigue he has shown in recent days, that he’s worked a lot ".

Even though, embarrassed at the thought that he had plausibly caused her chickweed, her superior lowered his head.

"Get more involved ... What I mean by that is that I find you oddly withdrawn, Sir Orca," Itia said, a soft and compassionate smile dawning on her lips. “You should dare more to sympathize with them. Regain self-confidence. The people of the Clay Whale also recognize you as the one who saved them from an undisputable disaster now ... "

With that, her superior looked away again. Itia, who continued to look at him, began to swing her legs off the top of the old desk, having lost track for a moment. Kannavi took hold of the silence to think about something that had just re-appeared in his thoughts. Itia had said she wanted to talk to him on a certain subject. A subject on which only he could enlighten her ...

"Well ... I'm aware that I haven't done much myself either. I have caused concern and as an injured person I require extra work. I hope I can get down to business soon.”

- You must not feel guilty Itia. These injuries are not your fault… I'm sure you'll find a way to be useful here and fit in really well, ”Kannavi assured him.

The young woman smiled at him, thanking him with a nod, then her gaze fell on Orca who had risen from his chair and dusted his dress vigorously. Itia put her hand towards him as if to hold him back, then hid her hand behind his back.

"Leaving already, Sir Orca?" "

Orca's bangs slid to the side as he swiveled his head towards her to fix her in amusement.

"You give us nice talks about the usefulness of being productive but find it useful to just sit there twiddling your thumbs?" "

Itia scowled and crossed her arms again.

“We’re not twiddling our thumbs. I argue with you for the best. You could have waited for me to finish! "

Orca raised his eyebrows, not losing that mocking smile.

" Well ?

"M-Make an effort to get along with people, please," Itia grumbled, irritated by his impatience and rudeness, “And be more polite”.

Her boss gave one last cheeky little smile before nodding and walking out the door. He arched his back to squeeze under the curtain. The young nurse followed him with his eyes, inwardly amused by this vision; Orca was almost too tall for the dimensions of the Whale, and you sometimes thought you saw an intruder in a children's village. In front of him, the young woman came down gracefully from the office and slandered in frustration. Why did he always have to nod with that smirk that seemed to mean he didn't get it?

“Ah! By the way, Itia, you wanted to talk to me about something ...? Kannavi asked.

The young woman seemed to hesitate. After a while, she opened her mouth to start something, but a high-pitched crash suddenly interrupted her. Then, bursts of voices. Dismayed, Kannavi got up immediately and hurried to the main wing of the infirmary. Itia sighed loudly. You could never have calm for a second here ... Following the nurse, she stepped through the beaded curtain and froze, just like him at her side. The two young people found Orca on the other side of the curtain in confrontation with the Prince of Amonlogia. Slightly behind them, the island's chief, Suoh, stared at a small object at his feet, his palms still open suggesting it had once been in his hands. Rochalizo took a step closer to Orca, his concave nose upturned with great contempt.

" What’s your fucking problem!? You’re all quiet now. Think you can get away with this ?! "

The atmosphere that fell on the room had grown heavy. Dozens of pairs of eyes on them, the two leaders stared at each other in silence, exchanging mute threats and disdain. Orca met his gaze, firm, yet not trying to defend himself in the slightest. Rochalizo's heterochromic eyes were very lively, seething with explosive rage. Kannavi focused on the faint marks of saimia appearing on Orca's forearms, jiggling dangerously, then on the Prince's clenched fists which vibrated crescendo on either side of his body; he thought for a moment that they’d come to get into a fight. But the tension dropped somewhat and the latter finally clenched his teeth and exclaimed again in a calmer, hissing voice:

“Go back to the Country, you only cause issues here. Nobody wants you, not even your sister! "

Orca rounded his eyes for a moment, but didn't show more of him  being destabilised. Hiding behind his eyelids and long bangs, he walked out of the room quickly.

Running after him, the young nurse held back the clapper and also rushed outside. Silence fell, sharper this time and suffocating. Itia bit her lip, completely shattered. Presumably unaffected by his surrounding’s unease, Rochalizo crouched down to pick up the pieces of the object - the small sculpture of a tree made of wood, half of the branches and trunk of which had split in two from the shock. . Once gathered between his fingers, he came back to Suoh's height and sought his gaze insistently.

“Suoh? Are you okay ? He jostled you, didn't he? "

The young chief's face darkened a little more and his hands fell against his sides like a relaxed rubber band.

"Hey, answer me," the Prince persisted, scratching his friend's apron with the tips of his blue fingernails. The words were harsh but the gesture was gentle.

Itia could only watch them, feeling deep inside her a great despair threatening to drown her entirely. Was it futile to try to obtain forgiveness from civilians? Rochalizo was not part of the Whale but they seemed to have adopted him for good. The inhabitants, maintaining in their customs a sympathy and a great compassion for others, had never reproached her for not being in her place or for being an enemy, nevertheless, this tradition of 'forgiveness obliges' did not say everything and sometimes she could feel a reminiscent indignation in their hearts, which had not been listened to, for lack of any outlet. Rochalizo's lack of tact was certainly hurtful to those who ran and crashed into it, but Itia appreciated it for the sole reason that she was sure it was the key to understanding how people here felt, what 'they dared not say. The Prince must have had grown up in an environment which had encouraged him to be frank… Itia couldn't say that was wrong, but his harsh words risked causing further clashes.

Did Rochalizo's words hurt Orca by the way? No one could be sure. She would probably go check on him later in order to oversee the mental strength of his superior. Superior who had just caused another incident ... What a pity. She was starting to wonder if her words had really had effect, when Suoh's voice pulled her from her personal introspection.

“Excuse me, Itia. I was dumbfounded for a while and - he gave a light laugh - I must’ve dramatized. After all, it's just a statuette. It is possible to do it again! "

Rochalizo, looking unhappy to have been pushed to the conversation’s background, leaned forward, still trying to get the island chief's attention.

“It's not just a statuette. Remind me how many hours you spent there ?! You have the right to be pissed off.

"As long as it's not human loss, I don't care," Suoh assured, looking serene.

With the broom hanging from the workbench, he too knelt down and quickly collected the last splinters of wood littering the ground that Rochalizo had neglected. Itia was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable. In normal times, she would have paid little attention to it; the misfortunes of others are usually not her problem. Taking care of other people's problems always brought a lot of trouble. However, in this delicate position, his inability to be able to repair the damage caused or to be able to do something to alleviate the situation caused her great distress. Mortified, the young woman bowed before them, not knowing how else to express the guilt that was rising to her head.

“I'm really sorry for what happened. I'm sure Sir Orca didn't wish for any of that to happen, "she stammered a little before coming to herself and stating clearly," You have to know ... He thinks highly of you! "

Rochalizo mumbled something between his teeth that sounded like a:

"Yeah, well when he gets something from it ..."

Itia bowed again, an attempt to renew her assertion. A benevolent smile broke on Suoh's lips. Clasping his hands together in front of his now soft face, he reassured her as best he could.

“No need to apologize, Itia, please. There are still tensions between our two peoples, but it will only get better, - the Prince pulled a pout which was ignored by all - I am convinced of it, believe me! "

The young woman nodded. Suoh was the lung of the island; his patience and the strength of his ideals would guide them. She had no choice, she left it entirely to him. If the Clay Whale and the United Kingdom of Siderasia had managed to come to a diplomatic understanding despite barbaric beginnings, there must be chances of striving for peace between their nations. Tensions would eventually run out of steam and, perhaps, new bonds would blossom, based on a land of mutual trust and aid.

"I'm in your hands, Suoh," Itia repeated, solemnly, her eyes closed.

A ray of sunlight shone through the infirmary, lighting Suoh's face in a golden glow. His long dress shimmered in the light, its whiteness evoking a divine sign, uttering in the room, a moment of peace. His clasped hands tightened more firmly, a proof of his resolve.

" Of course. Our agreement is only partly postponed. After all, even though we are so much more than that, we are all here victims of the Empire, aren't we? "

As they left the building side by side, Rochalizo pulled Suoh by the sleeve, forcing him to slow down. His worried expression, shaded by the red strands falling over his eyes, he seemed to want to give in to anger, before resigning himself. Hoarse and at the same time cracked, like the sound of a candle crackling in the night, he called out in a low voice:

" Hey. Suoh. Your hands are bleeding again”.

Suoh didn't bother to lower his head to the skin covering his joints, unalarmed. He was used to seeing on his hands, those fingernail marks crossing his flesh with scars or bright red gashes barely coagulated, manifestations of his anguish and inner sadness. It was a habit before, a daily sight since the day Sami died. However, knowing that they were engraved deep in his skin, accompanying him in daily adversity, was a sign of comfort inexplicably. It was the evidence that he had survived until then all the most disastrous days and that he had a way of getting rid of strong emotions. Suoh resumed his walk, imperturbably.

“I'll take care of them when I get home.

“No, you're going to take care of them now,” the Prince stubbornly raised his voice.

With force, he grabbed the shoulders of the young chief, standing in front of him to block the way and anchored his eyes in his menacingly.

"And wear bandages. Now."

The threat in his voice was clear, but his nervous twitching lower lip implied another thing.

"I would like to know ...", Rochalizo reiterated, his voice shaken, as Suoh looked down at the stream of blood flowing from his knuckles to his elbows, "... Why you hurt yourself so much these days".

#cotw fanfiction #suoh #rochalizo #rohalito #suou #children of the Whales #children of the whale #Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau #Kujira no Kora #les enfants de la baleine #knk #orca #orka #orca cotw #cotw orca #kannavi #kannabi #itia

[abovethesmokestacks]

Distant Connection 3/7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: All audiences

Word count: 815

Warning: None

| Distant Connection Masterlist |

Aaaah!!! Thank you so, so, so much for all of the support, guys! I’m blown away by how you’ve taken to this story, and it’s my pleasure to provide a small escape from reality. Bucky’s very pleased with himself. So is Alpine, for that matter. Reminder that this series does not have a tag list and is updated on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please, stay safe.

Chapter 3: Business As Casual

You don't mean for it to happen. Every goddamn site that even pretends to fall under news reporting is touting out the same tips for how to crack social distancing. Maintain structure. Keep your routines. Set your alarm the same time you would normally. Have breakfast. Dress for work. 

And let it be clear.

You did.

For a while.

But the damn slacks chafed against your waist and the jeans were so warm and slinking into a pencil skirt would just bring on double chafing. There was only so much you could take. This was a new, weird situation to be in, surely there was wiggle room on some things?

So, you compromised.

Still business above the waist because there are the video conferences with Bucky. Nice cardigans and button-ups and blazers and shirts. All classy and work appropriate. But instead of suffering through pants that chafed and fit too snug for a whole day of sitting down, you now feel infinitely more comfortable in sweats or yoga pants. You draw the line at pajama pants. You’re a civilized human being working for one of the biggest companies in New York City, pajama pants were not work appropriate, not even in this situation. Retain a sense of normalcy. 

For now. 

Bucky…

Well.

It takes a while for you to notice. First of all, it’s not like you’re checking him out every time he pops up on your screen (but by now you would know those blue eyes anywhere), but second of all, it happens so slowly. It’s crisp button-downs that become less crisp button-downs that become button-downs of unknown crispness under dress sweaters, then straight up sweaters and one sunny afternoon a truly glorious maroon t-shirt that makes it very hard to tear your eyes from the screen. It’s all fine, you’re doing this new version of business casual, it’s okay, but then-

“Bucky, are you wearing pajamas?”

Poor guy looks like a deer caught in headlights, looking down at the t-shirt he’s wearing with a very faded print of Mickey Mouse. “I… might be?” There’s a sigh and his face scrunches up before he hides it in his hands. “I hate all of my work clothes and this was so comfy. I’m sorry. It’s unprofessional, I’ll change into something else.”

Shit. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, and god, the more you look at him, the more he looks like he just rolled out of bed. The hair that had been coiffed and neat just two weeks ago is now a messy tangle that curls gently at the ends, falling against his forehead, and when he drags his hands away from his face you notice the shadow of a stubble, and… it’s not really that bad. You’ve let up on your clothes. You get it. Slacks and jeans are the devil, and Bucky is pretty much the only one you have regular face to face contact with, so maybe…

“Hang on.”

You turn off your camera, rifling for your pajama, a cosy number with a fluffy sleep shirt and a soft pair of flannel pants. You eye the door to your closet, slightly ajar. What the hell. On with the ridiculous fluffy socks your friends gave you for your birthday last year. 

Bucky’s eyes bulge a little when you turn the camera back on, decked out in your own pajama, before he breaks into a smile, “Wow.  That looks comfortable. Hell, it looks more comfortable than my own. What’s on the shirt- Is that an owl?”

“Hey, hey! Focus, Barnes!” you chide him jokingly, adjusting the angle of your laptop to pan the camera up to where you’re visible from the shoulders up. “Just because we’re business casual extraordinaire does not mean we get to slack off. Did you get the numbers you requested last week yet?”

And so the day goes on. A few breaks when you both need to handle incoming issues that require temporarily signing off to make calls to co-workers, but otherwise amicably working as if you weren’t sitting at home in your respective pajamas. It’s… nice. Relaxed, like you’ve both put down your guard.

“Hey,” Bucky says just as you’re about to call it a day. “Listen, I really didn’t mean to make… you know, this,” he gestures at his pajama shirt, “a whole thing. I was out of good shirts and I kinda overslept. Which is ridiculous because my bed is literally three feet to my left.”

“It’s okay. Was kinda nice, you know. Like Casual Friday. Only Thursday. And casual casual casual casual,” you shoot back with a smile, your heart doing a little somersault of a beat when he grins back.

“So maybe we can make that a thing? Like a weekly thing? Casual Casual Casual Casual Thursday?”

It’s ridiculous. You’re professionals. You purse your lips around a laugh.

“Sure, Buck. That sounds nice.”

#Distant Connection #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #quarantine fic #social distancing video calling coworkers to friends to lovers

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

An Open and Honest Conversation About Our Feelings

Ao3,  MasterPost

Relationships: Moxiety, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Roceit and Intrulogical.

Warnings: Food mention, all sympathetic sides, swearing, crying, hurt/comfort, excessive fluff and somftness. 

Word Count: 1,779

Virgil woke up at 12:00PM dull every day, because there are no rules in quarantine and fuck you. And due to the fact that all of his fellow sides continued to maintain ‘reasonable’ sleep schedules (nerds), he was almost always the last awake. Today was seemingly no exception, as Virgil trudged down the stairs with a yawn to find his family long done with breakfast.

 Janus was the first to register his presence, curled up in the corner of the sectional with Roman. 

“There’s something breakfast-adjacent left for you in the kitchen,” he informed with a mischievous look at the trait beside him.

“We were working with what we had! I’m sorry I’m not a master chef like Dad.” Roman argued, prompting Logan to peek his head in from the kitchen. 

“The more you call Patton that, the more I worry that it’s some kind of complex.”

He ducked into the other room before Roman could effectively throw a pillow at him. 

“Remus is a terrible influence on you!” 

There was a shrill laugh from the kitchen. 

“Damn right I am!”

Virgil shook his head at the interaction and contemplated going right back to bed. There was something bugging him, though. 

“So where is Pat?”

“He wasn’t here when we came down. We decided to let him sleep in. Totally not like he needs it,” Janus said idly. 

That on it’s own would be fine (he really did need a day off), but Patton was asleep later than Virgil? At the very least it was weird. But nobody else seemed particularly concerned about the side, and Anxiety wasn’t always the best judge of what was and was not worth freaking out over. He pushed it out of mind and went to find something to eat. Patton was probably fine. Probably. 

It was 3:00pm and things were not fine. No one had seen a trace of Patton all day. After surmising that all of the idiots Virgil inhabited a brain space with weren’t correctly worried, he took matters into his own hands. He glared at his best friend’s door for a good time before he finally caved and knocked, hoping for nonchalance (how do you knock nonchalantly? Probably not like that, dude). After all, maybe Patton really had just overslept. For eight hours. Yeah. 

There was a slight gasp from behind the door. Virgil felt his stomach drop and listened closely for a response. 

“Who is it?” Morality’s voice was barely audible, a rasping and raw croak. He very clearly hadn’t been getting any sleep, let alone extra. Virgil placed his hand on the door.

“It’s- it’s me.” 

No response.

“Can I come in?”

There was a beat, and then the lock clicked open. Anxiety took a steadying breath before entering Morality’s room, carefully closing the entryway behind him. His eyes widened at the scene before him.

Patton was laying on top of the covers in his bed. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, not to mention so unfocused that you’d think that nobody was home behind them. Tears tracked down his face and turned his complexion worryingly red, a contrast to the gray of his cat sweater. 

“...Pat?” Virgil whispered. Patton tilted his head and attempted to smile at him, which only served to be more heart-wrenching to see than the dull upset that previously encompassed his expression.

“Hey, Virge. What’s up?”

Virgil snorted, but there was no humor in the sound. 

“That’s what I wanna know,” he sat on the edge of the bed, maintaining a respectful distance, “C’mon, you can talk to me.”

“...Can I?”

The question was nearly silent, but Anxiety couldn’t have missed it in a thunderstorm. The trait blinked in a mix of concern and confusion.

“Uh, yeah? I mean, I won’t make you, but you’re always trying to talk me down when I get upset, or whatever. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Patton pushed himself up, leaning back against his pillows.  When he looked at Virgil again, he didn’t pretend to smile. 

“You don’t have to do this.”

“What?”

“I- I know that I’ve been a lot lately. I know you need space right now, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here for me. I’ll be okay, it’s just one of those days- you know?” 

Virgil’s stomach sank as realization dawned on him. 

“What are you talking about?” he needed to hear it. 

“You- well- you kinda… snap at me? Whatever I say always seems to be… the wrong thing to say. I’m sure you have a reason for being upset with me, though! And you don’t have to tell me what it is, either,” Patton kept his eyes down as he spoke, “It’s fine, really!”

Anxiety didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he didn’t know what not to say, because there was so much that he should be saying. He could see his friend- his best friend, always there for him even when it was excessive- trying not to cry again. It hurt to look at, it was heartbreaking to look at in a way it really shouldn’t have been. 

His mind flashed with all the times he’d berated Patton, or shut him down, or just brushed him off- and wasn’t not being listened to exactly what made him treat Morality worse in the first place? How hadn’t he noticed before?

Oh god, Virgil had been quiet too long and he still had no clue what to say. This was why talking about emotions wasn’t in his department!

Virgil twisted his fingers in his sleeve as an idea formed. He inched a little closer to Patton, trying to will away the nervousness and regret that creeped in him so he could focus. Patton watched him from the corner of his eye as Anxiety took his hand and entwined their fingers. 

The moral trait looked up at him with scores of conflicting emotions flitting across his face. Virgil outstretched his other arm, an offering that he rarely gave to anyone and one he almost never gave to anybody other than Patton. 

The side threw himself into Virgil’s arms without hesitation, hiding his face in the fabric of his hoodie. Virgil wrapped his arms around Morality’s shaking shoulders and held him close.

“I didn’t-” his voice cracked. Shit, try again.

“You’re amazing, Pat. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, like, not really.”

Patton’s head was resting on his collarbone. He took deep, shuddering breaths as his shaking abated. Virgil continued.

“This is all my fault, I should have just talked to you-”

Patton shook his head sharply.

“Me feeling bad wasn’t ‘cuz of you. It happens. And you did talk to me about what was wrong, I’m the one that didn’t listen-”

“I didn’t listen either, I just brushed you off! I made you feel like I didn’t want to be around you!”

“That’s exactly what I did to you! T-The first part.”

“It’s different-”

Patton cut him off with laughter, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. Virgil was only surprised for a moment before he cracked up too, letting the situation really sink in. How were they both so dumb?

A few times over they stopped, looked at each other, had another bout of giggles, and had to calm down again. Patton had gradually moved so that he was sat on Virgil’s lap, which certainly didn’t help alleviate the giddiness in his chest. 

“I’m really bad at this,” Anxiety said, sliding his arms down to hold around Morality’s waist.

“At what?” 

“Don’t know. Talking about stuff.”

“Me too. Don’t tell anybody though, I have a reputation.” 

Virgil gave another laugh and rested his chin on Patton’s head. 

They breathed.

“I’m tired, Vee.” 

“Same.”

“No, I meant... emotionally.”

“I know what you meant, Pat.”

Without another word, Patton pulled the both of them down to lie on the bed. He kicked his feet under his comforter and muttered that ‘a nap might help anyway’, and ‘would you stay? Please?’, and there wasn’t a chance that Anxiety could say no to that if he wanted to (which he did not). 

They exchanged some more whispered conversation while wrapping themselves with blankets. As the minutes passed, Virgil couldn’t help focusing on the way his friend’s arms tightened around his waist, or the way he laughed into his shoulder and pressed somehow closer. Virgil’s heart picked up- he didn’t like physical contact on the best of days, and this was more than he could ever remember enduring. The strange thing this time was that he wasn’t uncomfortable with it, no, he felt safe and warm and cared for and so so so-

Oh, fuck. 

“-irgil? Virgil?” 

“Sorry- yeah?”

Morality pulled back a bit. Virgil hoped to God that he wouldn’t dwell on the zoning out. Thankfully, he seemed to have something else on his mind.

“Thank you. For everything. This is just what I needed.” 

Patton was watching him with just an impossibly sweet expression. Virgil felt a spike of something- bravery, stupidity, recklessness, whatever you wanted to call it- in his chest. He couldn’t not say those three little words, not for another second. 

“I love you.”

Patton smiled so wide it looked painful, laughing giddily.

“I love you, too!”

“No,” immediately his fear was back tenfold and this was an awful idea, “I- I meant like, ro-”

“I know what you meant, Virge,” Patton said softly, looking amused and oh-so smitten. Virgil swallowed, pressing their foreheads together. His face was on fire and his chest hurt and his throat was dry but he couldn’t help smiling back at his friend- best friend- boyfriend?- his Patton.

The Heart tilted his head forwards a bit, bumping their noses together.

“Can I…?”

Virgil nodded quickly, accidentally shifting the trait’s glasses. Patton giggled, removing them and placing them on the bedside table before bringing his hands up to cup Virgil’s face and resuming their position. Gently- achingly gently- he pressed their lips together. Anxiety felt himself melt. The kiss was soft and sweet and cautious; it felt hours long and too short at the same time. When they broke apart, Patton looked at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky (Virgil was sure that his expression was much the same, but he wasn’t particularly worried about his reputation at that moment). 

“Thanks,” Patton said once more, laying his head back down on Virgil’s chest. The trait grasped for some response that could possibly articulate all that he was feeling, but by the time he opened his mouth, Morality was already asleep. With an amused huff, he followed suit and got some much needed rest.

@shrimp-crockpot

#my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #sanders sides #ts #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #moxiety #moxiety fanfiction #background roceit #background intruality #and by background i mean they are here for two sentences and barely hinted at #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #tw cursing #tw self-deprication #but like mild as hell #mentions of depression #i mean kinda i dont really know how else to describe what pattons got #virgil #ts virgil #virgil sanders #patton #ts patton #patton sanders #fuck so many different variations of character tags hhhhhhthhrhrh #hurt/comfort

[muwur]

Hiii and welcome!! May I please request for the lovable annoying baby Hinata who has a HUGE crush on this popular girl in his class and one day she sees him at the mall or something and rushes to him begging him to pretend to be her boyfriend because there’s a group of guys that won’t leave her alone and that’s when she finally realizes that this gorgeous sweetheart exists and Hinata is just on cloud 9 the entire time but then he remembers it’s all fake :((((( teeeee

✿ pretend boyfriend pt. 1

♡ scenario ♡ for hinata

❧ fem reader

✎ 3.2k words

a/n: aw hello ty for the welcome <3 also this request made me cackle AAHAHAHAHA. also this format is interesting lolol, im so indecisive about how i want it

anyways, hope u enjoy hehe >.> this came out a lot longer than i had originally planned but did i even have a plan in the first place buut i aint complaining LOL

also yes theres going to be a pt 2 firhfnxfwifj hehe

requests: open! pls bbys dun b shy i have summer skool soon fml i need this to make me procrastinate on work LMAO

-having been preoccupied with volleyball, crushes never crossed Hinata’s mind

-however, he was about to find out that he was quite clueless when it came to love

-he found himself speeding to school on his bike one morning, riding at breakneck speed to try to make it on time

-ahhhh, i was so excited about the first day of going to karasuno and seeing their volleyball team that i couldnt sleep until 4 am...!

-that explains why he overslept

-lost in his thoughts, he nearly failed to notice the girl who was walking in front of him

-and so, at the very last minute, he swerved. i nto a tree.

- “oh my gosh! are you okay??”

-if he wasn’t okay before, now he’s cURED because the most beautiful girl was looking down at him with an outstretched hand, concern in her eyes

-he jumped up instead and waved his arms in front of himself, blushing and nodding, “y-yeah, I’m fine! don’t worry about me, a-are you okay??”

- “you’re the one who crashed into the tree!” you responded with shock as you moved to pick up his bike off the ground (luckily, it was undamaged)

-he took the handlebars after you offered them to him

-you frowned slightly. “i’m sorry, i should’ve watched where i was going. are you hurt?”

-he was too busy gawking at you to realize his head started bleeding

-cue you yelling frantically “y-your head! it’s bleeding!” and rushing him to the nurse’s office

-in his head: ‘i-im holding her hand’

-nearly combusted on spot

-and that was how he met you

-later he found out he actually shared the same class with you!

-though you never seemed to notice LOL

-you sat on the opposite side of the room, closer to the front of the class

-he sat all the way in the back, so it’s not like you would’ve really seen him but it was the perfect spot for hinata to stare at you and not pay attention to class

-and during breaks or when the teacher left the room for a few minutes, everyone around you would try to spark up a conversation with you

-oh how he wished he could make you smile and laugh like that too

-and whenever he saw you outside of class, he hid immediately (behind walls, doors, lockers, people *coughkageyamacough* “hinata boke!”, etc) and admired you from afar, way too nervous to approach you after your first encounter several weeks ago

-he just kNOWS he’ll do something stupid and end up a stuttering, blushing mess

-besides, you probably forgot who he was ;((

-one day at lunch, he hid behind yamaguchi, who was confused until he followed hinata’s intent gaze to your form, which was walking by in front of the pair

-kageyama, who also took notice, smiled devilishly

- “pfffft, she’d never glance your way”

- tsukki deadpanned, “you don’t stand a chance. she’s way too pretty for you and people are lining up just to talk to her”

-cue hinata fighting kags n tsukki, blushing and with tears pricking at his eyes

- “aw, guys, don’t be so mean, I think he just has a crush!” yams snickered what an angel (no i am not in love w this man)

-one weekend, hinata was out in a nearby shopping area to get some snacks for natsu cuz she wouldn’t stop bugging him about it (“you ate the rest of my candy, so you have to go get me some more!”)

-as he was leaving the store, hand in his bag, he felt a tug on his sleeve and heard a “psst”

-some higher being must’ve blessed him that day because here he was, face to face with the girl who’s been on his mind everyday for several weeks

-sdgfhjkljihyuitufjhk

-error.exe

-he opened his mouth to say something, maybe like a:

-“h-hey! you look familiar, I totally don’t know your name or think about you before i sleep at night, s-so hOWS the weather???”

-but before he could humiliate himself speak, you gave him a small smile and asked, “aren’t you the guy i took to the nurse after you crashed into that tree?”

- “y-yeah, that was me!” he stuttered out

-he was trying so hard to keep his cool, but he could feel his palms get sweaty and his body quiver with pANIC

-you stifled a giggle with your hand (hinata: so cute dfghjfgljkl) "im glad to see you’re doing well. sorry, i never introduced myself. my name’s y/n, what’s yours?”

-you extended your hand as a greeting

-yet all he could do was stare at it, dumbfounded

-the two brain cells he owned said we ouTTIE

- “my name’s hinata!” he yelled dramatically for no reason. “sorry, my hand’s a bit sweaty, otherwise i would shake yours!” so instead, he bent forward in a bow

-eyes wide at his sudden outburst and gesture, you laughed in response and waved a hand, “it’s okay, really! nice to meet you again, hinata”

-a few moments of silence passed by, he was still bending over, and you were looking at your surroundings awkwardly

-risking a glance up, he caught a nervous expression on your face, and it made his eyebrows furrow in concern

- “hey, are you okay?” he asked as he straightened his body

-nice. smooth and direct.

-you sheepishly looked at the ground and absentmindedly itched the side of your head, twirling a strand of hair with your finger

- “this is kinda embarrassing, but um... could you do me a favor? i promise it’s nothing too bad!”

-little do you know he would literally do aNYthing for you right now

- “of course!” he replied a little too quickly. “w-what is it?”

- “soooo, i ran into these guys from school earlier, and they won’t stop bothering me, especially this one guy. a lot of girls like him and think he’s cool, but he’s such a jerk! i honestly don’t know what they see in him. he’s been so insistent on dating me the past few weeks that i try to avoid him as much as possible...”

-you shyly looked up at him and he had to refrain from exploding

- “could you please, uh, pretend to be my boyfriend?”

-b-b-b-boYFrIeNd??

- “y-y-y-your b-b-b-boyf-f-friend?” he managed to sputter

-you clasped your two palms together in front of your face like a prayer and leaned forward slightly, closing your eyes. “just for today, i promise! i remember you were really sweet when i first met you, so i thought i could ask you! i need to get a few things and i know he’s still around here, so i might run into him and his friends again. also, earlier, i uh... kinda told him i had a boyfriend to see if he would back off, but i think it just made him angrier...”

-you were talking a bit too fast for hinata’s nonexistent brain to process, but he got the gist

-basically, he needed to pretend to be your boyfriend in front of some guy that wouldn’t leave you alone

-it almost sounded like a dream come true

-except for the fact this was all fake and he wasn’t actually your boyfriend

-BUT HE GOT TO TALK TO YOU AND PRETEND TO BE SOMETHING HE WANTED TO BE

-AND PROTECT YOU

-AND HE GOT TO TALK TO YOU

-but...

- “err, how do i do that?”

-you looked back up at him questioningly. “do what?”

-he looked off to the side in embarrassment. “w-well, i’ve never really dated anyone, so i’m not sure how to act and make it believable...”

-you clasped his hands making him even more flustered and jumped up in excitement

- “so you’ll do it??”

-he could only manage to nod in response

- “great! ahhhh, thank you so much! you don’t know how much i appreciate this! as for the acting... well, we just have to do couple-y things. y’know, hold hands, stand close to one another, feed each other, take pictures together, kiss, all that stuff. just follow my lead!”

-did his ears deceive him?

-did you just say

-kISS??

-he?? was going to get?? to?/ kisS yOu?//dfokgjif

-he definitely looked like an idiot right now

-wide eyes glazed over, mouth opened slightly for the soul leaving his body, a grey and sickly pale complexion, stomach twisting from nerves and butterflies

-noya and tanaka would be so jealous

-and possibly kill him so they could replace him as your pseudo boyfriend

- “hinata? what’s wrong, d-did i say something?”

-your concerned voice brought him back to earth

-gazing into your cute, confused eyes, he took a deep breath and exhaled

- ‘im acting so uncool right now! y/n needs my help!’

-he mustered up the courage to flash you a determined smile and a thumbs up. “i’ll be the best fake boyfriend you could ever ask for!”

-you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat

-you chuckled at his genuine display and smiled back. “then in that case, would you mind tagging along as i pick up a few things?”

-he could barely hold himself together when you clasped his hand and scooted close to him

-so close he could smell a pleasant scent wafting from you

- ‘i cant believe this is happening im holding her hand agAIN was this meant to be—‘

-and then his mind went blank for like the hundredth time in the last several minutes

-he followed you around, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart and ignore the warmth that remained on his cheeks

-how could you be so calm when you two were holding hands for so long?? (kags: it means she doesnt like u)

-he was both elated and terrified at the same time

-hinata couldn’t help but relish the way your fingers felt interlocked with your own

-how you slightly swung your arms together as you walked

-the way your eyes shone as you talked so casually with him

-the crinkle of your eyes and the sweet sound of your laugh when he said something that was apparently funny

- ‘fjjkdjnf i made her laugh‘

-he couldn’t help but notice the way your hair brushed your face when you leaned forward to inspect an item on a shelf

- “this is kinda cute, don’t you think?” you held up a small plush of a hedgehog

- “y-yeah, adorable!” but i’m not talking about the hedgehog

-it was no surprise to him, really, to see why you were so popular with everyone

-what’s not there to like? aside from your stunning beauty and intelligence, you were naturally charming and radiated an aura that just drew others in

-two hours passed and you both ended up sitting at a table, hands linked together across the table’s surface

- “ah, i need to answer this,” you breathed out, letting go of his hand to rummage your bag and answer your ringing phone

-ngl his hand was already getting cold and he missed your touch

-after a few nods and short replies, you ended the call and stood up

- “well, now that i’ve gotten everything, i have to head home now. ..”

- “oh... i-i mean, oh, alright! uhh, it was nice um, shopping with you!”

-his heart sank a bit now that this blissful time had come to an end

-disappointment seeped in hello darkness my old friend

-you, too, were a bit dismayed. you never expected to have enjoyed your time with him that much

-how come you never saw him at school? you definitely would’ve loved to get to know him more...

- “y-yeah, i had a good time, too! er, shopping, i mean! thanks again for following me around, though. you’re really sweet, hinata. i don’t know what i would’ve done without your help...”

- ‘come on, this is your chance!’

-boyo took another deep breath and opened his mouth to say, “y/n, could we do this again som--”

- “y/n! heyyy, i’ve been looking for you, sweet cheeks!”

-you both whipped around to see a group of guys approaching your table

-quickly, you pulled hinata close to you and whispered in his ear, “act natural.”

-nAtUral?????

-nodding, he stood up straighter and hesitantly snaked an arm around your waist

-then stiffened in fear when you were both surrounded by a group of guys who were all way taller than him

-you gave the boys a suspicious eye and scooted closer into hinata’s touch

-“what do you want? for the last time, i am not going out with you. don’t you know anything about respecting other people? besides, i’m already with someone,” you huffed

-the one in the front cocked an eyebrow at the sight of you two

-he had silky dark hair, smooth skin, a captivating gaze, and a smirk that could creep right under your skin

-“you expect me to believe small fry’s your boyfriend? him? with YOU? you could do so much better, buttercup. I could make you feel so good.”

-hinata could tell this guy was bad news. really bad news. he was the type who wouldn’t take no for an answer

- ‘ahhh, what do i do?? if i just stand here, he’s gonna keep harassing her! and possibly even hurt her...’

-the guy inched closer to you, much to your obvious discomfort as you stepped back, and he reached out to touch your cheek

-but hinata was quicker, and he slid in front of you before the guy could lay a finger on you

- “leave her alone! she obviously wants nothing to do with you.”

-the fiery glint in his eye was almost enough to make the other guy back off, but his pride wouldn’t let him

-angry, he instead grabbed fistfuls of hinata’s collar and spat in his face, “say that again, shorty.”

-hinata continued to stare into the other guy’s eyes daringly and grabbed a hold of his wrist in response

- “she said no. quit harassing a girl who’s made it clear she’s not interested, or else.”

- “or else what.”

-his grip on the guy’s wrist tightened and his eyes sharpened. “you’ll have to get through me, first.”

- “tch,” the taller male scoffed. he let go of hinata, pushing him back and glaring as he did so. then he glanced over at you still standing behind the orange-haired boy

- “bet you’ll get bored of shortstack over here soon enough. i’ll be waiting,” he remarked with a wink

-then he and his friends turned and walked away, disappearing from view

-hinata, who’s been running on pure adrenaline during this whole encounter, then collapsed on the floor from all the excitement and terror he tried to contain

- “h-hinata?!” you gasped, using your arms to support his sluggish body

- “ahhh... i thought he’d at least swing at me, but i got lucky...”

-he sounded breathless

-however, the last thing he expected was the soft press of your lips on his cheek

- “thank you, hinata. i really appreciate the way you stood up for me back there. no one’s ever really done that for me.”

-how many times can you die and come back to life in the same day?? p sure hinata’s broken the record for that by now

- “o-o-o-of course! i couldn’t just let him keep thinking that going after you like this is o-okay! i-i didn’t even do much, i-i mean you’ve been standing up to this guy for weeks, this was the least i could do to help--”

-and you were huGGING HIM

-he awkwardly returned the gesture, eyes wide with shock as he patted your back

- “i mean it. thank you. i hope he backs off, but...” you bit your lip and pulled away

- “w-what’s wrong...?”

-you sighed. “i have a feeling he’s still going to be bothering me for a while. i hate to ask this of you, but...”

- “could you pretend to be my boyfriend for a bit longer? at least until he gets the hint and stops...?”

-did this mean...

- ‘dating’ you at scHOOL???

-kageyama and tsukki will never let him live it down, he could already imagine their comments

- “why’d she pick you of all people for this job?? you’re so?? you???”

- “couldn’t she have chosen to be with someone more believable??”

-he shook his head from his thoughts

- “i-is that a no?” you asked worriedly

- “n-no! i mean, yes! i mean, ignore that! i can pretend for as long as you need, y/n.”

- “ahhh, thank you so much, hinata! i promise i’ll treat you to something in return!” you brought him back in a hug, swaying side to side in glee

-you both stood up after you let go. “we should exchange numbers!” you suggested

- ‘oh my gawd, im getting her number rdftegiuofref’

-tanaka and noya would be so proud tho

-you quickly typed down your contact information on his phone before handing it back to him. “alright, here you go, just give me a text! i have to go now.”

-you picked up your bags and gave him a parting smile. “i’ll see you at school! get home safe!”

-and with that, you were on your way

-he stood there and watched as you left, holding onto the cheek you had kissed earlier

-he couldn’t believe it

extra:

-he had texted you after he got home, giggling like a lovesick preteen (was he not thooo LOL) as he was reading your messages and sharing memes with you

y/n 乁( ⏒ ͜ʖ ⏒ )ㄏ : oh ye btw, who’s your teacher? also, where do you usually hang out? just so i know where to find you. i never c u around school for som reason

me: oh rlly? thats strange... (pretending like he doesnt hide from you lol) im usually in the courtyard during lunch or in the gym for volleyball practice, and i have class with ms. akio

y/n 乁( ⏒ ͜ʖ ⏒ )ㄏ : WE’RE IN THE SAME CLASS??? omg im so sorry, i never noticed :((

me: oh no its okay! i sit all the way in the back, so

y/n 乁( ⏒ ͜ʖ ⏒ )ㄏ : well, i’ll make sure to greet you next time :) ! we’ll be seeing each other a whole lot more now, so

-he was still smiling like an idiot when natsu burst open his bedroom door

- “where’s my candy?!”

-shit, you probably took it with all your other bags by accident

- “uhhh....”

- “shoyooooo! you owe me, big time!”

-he rolled his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i know, i’m sorry, i’ll buy you twice as much tomorrow.”

-he went back to typing away at his phone

-natsu raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “whatcha doinnn?”

- “nothing, go away.”

- “you’ve been on your phone all day!”

- “and?”

- “are you talking to a giiirrrlllll?”

- “n-no!”

- “then why are you blushinggg?? moommm! shoyo has a girlfriend!” then she added to her brother, “can i see her?? is she pretty??”

-he just groaned, putting a hand up to his face to cover his blush, and nodded

a/n: OKAY this def took me longer than i thot AAHAHA but no ragrets. ty for your request, anon, i rlly enjoyed writing this and i hope you liked it! there will be a part 2, ill try to get that done soon >.> stay tuned hehe. msg me or send me an ask if you wanna be in the taglist cx <3 have a great day or night, lovelies, wherever you are

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