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sharkbait77 · 3 years

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The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Three: Beneath the Oak Tree

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Strained parent relationship, death of a parent, grief, anxiety, it’s gonna get a little fluffy in this one!

W/C: 3.9k

A/N: So I'm honestly really proud of myself for this chapter, there's a little something that I wrote while I was in Ezra's mind & I still can't get over it. I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you all so much for the love & support!

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Chapter Two || Chapter Four

~APRIL NINETEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN – AFTERNOON~

At the day’s end, you begin your trek back to the house, the heels and balls of your feet aching in a bruising way with each step. The sun creeps lower and lower behind you as you walk and you can feel the warmth of its rays hugging your back. There was a time you would enjoy watching the sunset, when you would stay in town the few extra moments to revel in its beauty and its promise to you that, although darkness will soon creep in, the sun will rise again and bring with it a fresh beginning.

Now, though, your newly appointed duties force you to neglect your favorite time of day. Right after closing the shop, you headed over to the butchers shop for the cheapest pound of beef, cut up into chunks as requested by Pa, and began walking. Not looking back at the town or the sunset, but not able to look forward either. Muscle memory takes over your legs, the map in your mind leading you straight home and all other directions you may have anticipated moving towards are erased completely now.

As you walk up to the farm, you see Mr. Prospect far into the fields, digging weeds from the Earth diligently with the hoe in his hands. You gander upon him for a moment, slowing down your pace just to glance a little longer than might be considered appropriate. He’s discarded his jacket and his white shirt looks dirtier now, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps to reveal his tan arms. They’re not overly muscular, but you know they must be strong with how hard he’s working the fields.

You misstep while your head is turned to Mr. Prospect, the toe of your boot catching a fairly large rock in the dirt and it causes you to trip. You stumble, but regain your balance quickly and feel the flush of embarrassment flow through you, your head now facing forward with the front door to the house in your sights. You take another peek at Mr. Prospect, his attention still focused on the dirt, obviously not having seen you fumble and you thank whoever above that he had not been looking your way.

Once inside, the aroma of vegetable broth is swirling through the air; Pa had already begun the stew, thankfully, relieving some of the responsibility from you. You walk into the kitchenette and set the wrapped beef down onto the only free counter, then you remove your bonnet and bag, hanging it on the wooden hook and turning to place the lockbox back inside the safe.

You turn back to the kitchenette, unwrapping the paper to reveal the raw meat within and you dump it into the boiling broth with the vegetables. A simple stew; you’ve no spices besides pepper and fresh rosemary from the garden and the meat was already salted by the butcher, but it was always a favorite that Ma would make. Yet, when you try to cook it, it never comes out with the same taste anymore. As if Ma had put her own love into it and it was another part of her you just would not have anymore.

After some time, the stew is finished, the broth thickened and the vegetables and meat cooked through to tenderness, and just then, Pa walks into the house. He walks as if the weight of the Earth rests on his shoulders and he breathes deeply, trying to regain the air in his lungs he had lost from the hard work of the day. You stand in the kitchenette, waiting for him to move from the frame so you are able to greet Mr. Prospect as well, but Pa shuts the door behind him.

“He did not wish to join,” Pa says simply.

“Did he explain why?” You ask.

“He said he did not want to impose. I did not press the matter; if he chooses solitude, I will not force his hand,” Pa replies as he sits down at the table.

You keep quiet, deciding not to further discuss the subject so as to not upset Pa and you ladle a helping of stew into a bowl for him, carrying it along with the basket of rolls to the table. You set it down in front of him and after he says his silent letter to Ma, he begins eating. You serve yourself some stew as well and sit down at the table. You and Pa eat in silence, as usual, but there’s a nagging thought in your head that will not subside. As much as you try to throw it to the wind, your curiosity gets the best of you and as you stand to grab your dishes, you find the courage to confront your father.

“Pa?”

“Hm?” He grunts, packing his pipe with tobacco.

“Why did you not inform me of Mr. Prospect yesterday?” You ask quietly, hoping he will not be upset with your questioning.

“I did not see the need to. Not until I had a chance to speak with him myself.”

“I could have helped, Pa. You could have sent him to me and I could have spoken with him,” you continue as you move to stand closer to him. He sighs deeply.

“No.”

His quick response comes out cold, a spat in the face more like, and you immediately take offense. Clearly, Pa still sees you as a child and, like a child, he expects you to bend to the laws he has established in this house. Your pulse races, the grown woman within you takes over your mind and you feel the urge to fight for your position. It breaks your heart; you were used to fighting for yourself in the town, but now you find yourself fighting against your own father.

“Why? Do you not trust my judgement? I’ve put my work in for the farm like you and Ma have before me,” you reply in a firm tone.

“Because I am the owner and I will hire whomever I see fit. Enough of this.”

He nearly barks at you, like the Bakers’ dog that would frighten you as a child whenever you passed its territory, and you feel that same terror rush through you now. You try to see reason, but no acceptable excuse comes to mind. Perhaps he did not feel as though you have earned his respects as the young lady you are. Whatever he thinks of it, you feel it may be best to settle the subject. For now.

“Yes, sir,” you say softly. You turn to the kitchenette, place your soiled dishes in the basin and walk back to the range, serving a helping of food into another bowl with a spoon and setting a roll on top. “I will go offer some stew to Mr. Prospect.”

“Leave him be, daughter. If he wished to eat, he would have joined us at our table,” Pa says with a furrow in his brow.

“Perhaps he is intimidated, Pa. Afraid to sit and converse with us after the town has already been so unfriendly. If he wishes to be lonesome, I will respect it. But I will not let him go hungry simply for his preference.”

Before giving Pa another chance to argue, you step outside and shut the door behind you. You take a moment to yourself once you are far enough away from the house. A crushing feeling sits on your chest, pressure building and building and you take deep breaths in an attempt to calm your rapidly beating heart and quiet the ringing in your ears. You allow yourself to feel the cool breeze from the night flow across your face and closed eyelids as you find your center again.

You had hoped Pa would see you as an adult by now, not a helpless child. The loss of your mother only matured your soul more than it already was previously. You wonder what Ma would think, if she would agree with Pa or with you. Only more sadness courses through you, though, as you remind yourself that you will never know the answer.

Finally regaining your strength, you walk towards the barn, bowl in hand and heart drumming nervously in your chest. Why? Why so anxious? What is it about this mysterious man that has you feeling like a schoolgirl again? He was absolutely an intriguing – and rather handsome – man, far different from the men around town, as well as friendly, so why had everyone else been so disconcerted by him? You truly must have a different set of eyes, then, because you only wish to know – to learn – more.

You reach the ajar barn doors and knock on the wood softly to announce your presence. There is some shuffling from within until Mr. Prospect pulls open the door, his gaze full of pleasant surprise to see you standing in front of him.

“Sunflower,” he grins. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I apologize for interrupting your rest, but I figured you might be hungry after today,” you reply and hold out your hand with the bowl. He glances down at it, quickly looking back up into your eyes.

“I couldn’t, miss, I would feel as though I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

“Nonsense,” you scoff and his eyebrows twitch amusingly at your rebuttal. “It is the very least we can do since we are not able to pay you much. ’Sides, I’ve already served you; I would be more offended if you were to decline now. Otherwise it will go to waste and that will not sit right with Pa. Or with me.”

“Very well, Sunflower. I would hate to disappoint, so I will accept. Thank you very much,” he smiles and grabs the bowl from your outstretched hand, his fingertips lightly brushing your palm and a slight tingle from his skin on yours trickles through your hand. “May I ask you to join me?”

“I’d best not linger; I’m afraid I’ve managed to upset Pa tonight and I’d rather not cause him any further distress before sleep,” you explain, pushing past the temptation to say yes.

“I am sorry to hear that; I hope my being here hasn’t caused any controversy between you and your father.”

“Not at all, it has nothing to do with you, Mr. Prospect. Rest easy,” you smile.

“Thank you, dear Sunflower. Both for the ease of mind and also for this meal; I cannot wait to taste the flavors that have charmed my nose with its temptatious smell.”

You giggle softly at his statement; he speaks so differently, his own elocution, it seems. You bow your head slightly at him and take a turn to leave, but a lingering curiosity prompts you to speak.

“Mr. Prospect, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he grins while he waits.

“Why do you call me ‘Sunflower’?”

“Do you take offense to my endearment, miss? I do apologize-”

“No,” you shake your head, offering a small smile for your expression to match your acceptance of the name he has bestowed upon you. “I must admit I quite like it. I was only curious.”

“It is because you glow as one; bright as the sun, yet gentle as its petals. Though, its beauty would diminish greatly were it next to you in comparison.”

Your neck, cheeks, and ears burn; an almost overwhelming heat you have not felt since little Morris Clark snuck a kiss to your cheek as children in the school play yard. Though, there was nothing childlike about the sensation rushing through you. His words make you smile; a genuine smile you forgot your face was capable of producing.

“I… I hope you enjoy the soup. I-I will be back for the bowl and spoon in the morning,” you stutter and attempt to hide the jubilant grin on your face by biting your lip. “Goodnight, Mr. Prospect.”

“Sunflower?” He calls out as you’re mid-turn, causing you to stop at his beckon. “Please, call me Ezra.”

Your smile breaks wider across your face and Ezra grins back, nodding slightly as he watches you consider his proposal. You take a breath to calm the thumping of your heart.

“Goodnight… Ezra.”

“Goodnight.”

~APRIL TWENTY-FIRST OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Sundays were your favorite days. No, not because of church, but because it was the only day of the week where you were able to close the shop early enough and have a spare moment to yourself. While everyone was busy praising God, praying to Him to prove they were holier than the rest of the town and repenting for the sins they committed during the week (just for them to start fresh on a new batch the next morning), it was the day you found your own escape.

You intently watch the clock ticking on the wall until the work day comes to an end and you quickly rush to the door to flip the sign, guaranteeing no other customers would make it through. You head back to the counter and carefully examine the ledger and count the coin from the day to assure each sale has been accounted for. After checking it once, you go through it again to reaffirm it’s correct and close the book.

You gather the coins in your hand and place them in the velvet bag, tying the string at the opening and setting both the bag and the book into the metal lockbox. You turn the small key, place the box in your bag, and nestle the key within your breast pocket.

You hurriedly make the trek back to the farm and you see Pa rounding up the chickens for their feeding. In your haste, you notice belatedly that you had not seen Ezra in the fields, but convince yourself he may be busy elsewhere. After a brief announcement of your arrival, you walk through the wooden front door, the floorboards creaking underneath you as you walk straight to the black safe next to the fireplace. You place the metal box from your bag inside the safe, closing it once again and heading back outside.

“Pa, I’ll be back in time for supper,” you call out as you stand under the apple tree, searching for the shiniest and reddest apple from its leaves to place in your bag.

“Be careful, daughter,” he replies as he throws more feed into the dirt. Considering how strained your relationship with Pa became, thankfully, he still respected your weekly ritual without any argument.

You wave and walk away from the farm, in the opposite direction of the town and towards the hills. It’s a mere five minute hike until you make it to the small landing at the base on the other side of the hill, letting the sounds of the flowing river fill your ears with delight. It is your own personal haven; no other person has found this place and you privately claimed it as your own, even marking your initials into the large oak tree that dwelled there.

As you make your way through the pine colored grass and up to your usual sitting area, you see the outline of a man sitting under your tree. Your brows furrow in confusion and you feel momentarily disappointed upon the realization that your secret place has been found by another, but you don’t dare be outwardly perturbed; how were they to know this was your own private sanctuary to escape the gloom of what has become of your life?

You continue in a steady march, not prepared to let your resting spot become someone else’s easily. Your mother taught you manners; you knew how to share. That did not mean it had to please you, but as long as they kept to themselves, you rationalize, what’s the harm? Maybe it was another lost soul finding comfort in the calming atmosphere of this place. An unavoidable grin stretches across your face, however, when you step closer and recognize the choppy cut of hair atop the man’s head. You catch a glimpse of his profile and his discernible nose and conclude it is the traveling man that has so intensely piqued your interest.

“Good afternoon, Ezra,” you address once you’re in range of his hearing. It catches him off guard and his shoulders jolt slightly, clearly unexpectant of anyone else finding this place.

“Sunflower,” he beams when his eyes meet yours as you stand under the shade of the tree. He moves to stand to properly greet you.

“Please,” you hold a hand up to stop him. “May I join you?”

“It would be a true delight,” he responds and resettles himself on the ground.

You smile sincerely and are pleasantly surprised to find it comes naturally and with ease in his presence. You lift your dress slightly from the ground and carry your weight to your knees to rest on your bottom, bending your legs to lay beside you. You sigh contentedly as you smooth out your skirts out around you.

“What brings you here? What about the fields?” You ask.

“Your father relieved me of my duties for the remainder of the afternoon. He declared: ‘Every soul should rest on the Lord’s day’.”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “That sounds like Pa.”

You do not press the subject of his religion, knowing first-hand how irksome it is when others comment on your lack of worship and you do not wish to cause Ezra any further discomfort by intruding on his personal preferences. A moment of silence passes between you two; the river flows and splits across different shaped rocks and boulders embedded into the dirt below the surface, creating a relaxing tune, gladly welcomed by your ears.

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?” You ask, turning your gaze to his. To see his peaceful face, full of heartfelt content of the surroundings, you think it may not be so bad to finally have a friend to share it with.

“Indeed; lovelier so with your company,” he smiles.

You feel a strange occurrence within you, a sudden spike in your pulse that makes your fingers and toes tingle, much like when they ache at the end of a long day. Yet, in this moment, you welcome it.

“I usually come here alone,” you say quietly as you fiddle with the strap of your bag.

“My apologies; if you’d prefer, I will find a different location of rest,” he frowns slightly, afraid he has imposed on time you prefer to spend alone.

“No,” you say quickly. “Don’t fret. Besides, this is the only place the children do not come to cause chaos.”

“I see,” he chuckles breathily, a sense of relief rushing through him that he has not upset you. “Perhaps we can share, then?” He questions tenderly in a hopeful wish released to the air.

“Yes,” you nod. “I think I would enjoy that.”

He smiles, his eyes gleaming along and you cannot fight the slight, arrhythmic thumping in your chest at the sight of his glee. Another moment passes without a word spoken as your heart paces normally once again and you look over at Ezra, his fingers busy fiddling with a small book.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask. He looks at you before meeting your gaze to his lap.

“Oh...” He looks at the brown, leather bound booklet in his hands. “A journal for my thoughts and compositions alike.”

“It’s nice to write down your reflections. May I hear some? Unless they are too close to your heart, then I do not wish to pry.”

“I’ve not read these aloud to anyone since my youth, dear Sunflower, but it would bring me great joy if you were to listen,” he says softly and you turn your body to face him, providing your utmost attention.

He smiles, chest rising profoundly with each nervous breath he takes as he opens his book, turning the ivory pages with the pad of his index finger until he lands on a scripture to read, clearing his throat before he begins.

“The vast expanse of the Green went on in each direction farther than the eye could see. The emerald of the leaves above coalesce into the umber of the earth below, both hues combining in the moss bound to the wide and tall bodies of majestic trees.

“The sunlight rained through the leaves, its rays bathing the ground I walked on and bringing the small buds of flowers to life with each step I took. The morning dew kissed the delicate fronds, single droplets meeting their lovers akin and they became as one, rolling away from the home they shared briefly and freefalling in blissful adrenaline until they met their demise in the dirt.

“I immersed myself in the environment, years upon years of the knowledge of rebirth all around, and I breathed in the crisp coolness of the air and life surrounding me. I long to become the moss on the tree, the buds in the dirt, the dew on the frond. To fade away into the Green and be born again.”

He takes a deep breath as he closes the book, grazing his fingers along the cover as if he is praising it, thanking it silently for the blank canvas it provides for him to express himself. His words move you, the meaning behind his composition striking a chord within your heart and, suddenly, you feel a small bead of water rolling down your cheek. As you bring your finger to your eye to wipe away the first tear you have shed in many moons, Ezra looks over at you and catches you in the act.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?” He asks with concern laced in his voice. He would reach out to comfort you through physical touch were he not afraid to overstep and offend you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you brush off before flashing a soft smile at him. Though, he is not convinced. “It’s beautiful; you have a raw talent for composing. It sounds like a lush place, nothing like around here. What is ‘the Green’?”

“A never-ending stretch of greenery and tall trees. At times, I can faintly smell the aroma of the dirt, muddied by the rain.”

“Where is it?” You ask, a slight hope forming in your heart that you may be able to visit someday.

“Ah, it resides only in my dreams, I’m afraid. A place my subconscious has manifested for me to visit during my slumber.”

“It sounds heavenly,” you add in a whisper.

Ezra is stunned; in his youth, he has composed small poems and sonnets such as the one he just recited to you and each time he dared to share them with anyone, he always got the same response. Classmates teased him and called him a freak or queer and he never felt any desire to share his work again. Yet, with you, your gleaming eyes directed to him with such intrigue, he felt compelled to share once again. And the response this time warms his heart.

“It can be. Then again, it feels quite lonesome as well. Such a colossal stretch of land, yet I am the only one there.”

“It must be my own desire to be free of prying eyes and ears that makes it sound appealing. I did not consider how it has been for you during your travels. Forgive me, Ezra,” you say, your eyes shining with guilt and he looks deeply into them, a touch of gold streaking in his irises as the sun flashes across his face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dear Sunflower. I understand your desires. If I had also grown in a town such as this, I would gladly welcome a visit to the Green.”

You nod your understanding, but a twinge of guilt hits you as you consider how poorly Ezra must have been treated when he first arrived. You do not wish to ask and ruin the peacefulness of this moment, though you vow to keep it in mind to ask at a later time. For now, you will enjoy your company with Ezra under the large oak tree, heart happily beating in your chest with someone to finally share time with.

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

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#ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra au #ezra prospect au #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #prospect #prospect fanfiction

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cryptiql · 3 years

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cherry starbursts

pairing: bakugou/reader (male reader in mind but is gender neutral)

warnings: none, i think?? lots of cussing though, courtesy of lord explosion murder

words: 3.6k

a/n: yuzuya's audios giving me so much brainrot...gonna be thinking about this all week. also the way this started out as god tier writing but gradually turned into shit at the end 🏃 nonetheless, i hope i did this gremlin man justice </3

a contemplative hum tickles your throat as you observe the paragraph laid out before you, the pads of your fingers tingling as you trail them across the pages. on the occasions where you've found your nose nestled deep within them, a muted scent of pears and sawdust would invade your senses, and the urge to rest your head in the plains of your chemistry textbook would become overwhelming. however, the threat of being cuffed over the head by a rolled up magazine makes you think twice about slacking off, so you begrudgingly slump back into your seat with a resigned huff. the clock in your dorm is no doubt ticking away like always; the second hand rounding at great speeds while the minute and hour hands crawl by at a sluggish pace; but you aren't there to hear it.

instead, you reside in bakugou's room, basking in the unencumbered atmosphere created solely by his diligent efforts to keep his space clean and organized. it's just the way he is, you have to remind yourself. not because you stubbed your toe on his dumbbells last week and he felt sufficiently guilty as to make sure nothing was in your path the next time you visited. that would be silly. all that considered, bakugou's room isn't much different from your own—save for the few comfort objects brought from home that give off a hospitable air—but the lack of stimulus it holds is apparent. anything that could disturb your tranquil study date has either been stored away or placed beyond your reach.

damn him, the bastard! he's completely oblivious, you silently muse, bracing your elbows on the desk to plant your face in the palms of your hands. you chastise yourself at the same moment for forgetting your headphones, but in your defense, bakugou screaming for you to hurry up had prompted a hasty departure. if he had the patience to wait two more minutes. . .

rather than finishing the thought, you pull the textbook closer, hoping that somehow the enlarged print will stick to your brain like a temporary tattoo. you only need this information long enough to pass the exam, but once it's over, you swear you'll never mention anything chemistry related unless it's the bond between you and your neighbor. the idle scratching of pencil led against paper erupts from his side of the room, lessening the static in your head by a fraction, but it doesn't last. he mutters something unintelligible under his breath as you spin in your chair to look at him in desperation.

he remains ignorant for the next minute or so, only glancing up at you briefly before returning to his notes. your nostrils flare as you reach down to untangle your laces and pull off your shoe. you chickened out last time this happened, but being ignored has successfully fed the flames of your frustration, and you simply will not stand for it any longer. you blame your sleep-addled mentality for the lack of better aim, but it stokes your pride when bakugou flinches as your shoe hurdles past his shoulder.

"the hell was that for, dumbass!?" he growls, his eyes narrowing into slits. you respond with a high pitched whine; one that would be considered overexaggerated in his opinion, but in yours, was perfectly reasonable when being held against your will to study a subject that has no business being this tedious. "sukiii, i'm booored."

the blonde makes a 'tch' sound, positioning his arm in a warning manner before throwing his pencil at you, which you manage to catch easily. you revel in the deflated expression he wears, twirling the pencil between your fingers and kicking a leg over one arm of the chair. all this, while never breaking eye contact, was sure to break through to him. you're hopeful, what with the way katsuki's gaze—gradually failing to hide his infatuation—travels over your build from head to toe. whether because you giggle at his reaction or decide to kick your feet like a giddy child, he snaps out of his trance with an all too familiar scowl and shuts his own textbook with unnecessary force. his demanding stare is fixated on you as he tosses it haphazardly to the edge of the bed.

"give me back my pencil, idiot." he completely ignores your previous statement and jumps straight into business, as always. "give me back my shoe first, hot stuff." you challenge, smirking in a way that you very well know gets him hot under the collar. the teasing endearment will either put the odds in your favor; earning you your shoe as desired, and perhaps the lovely little blush that often dusts his face whenever you flirt with him; or seal your fate in hell where the everlasting flames may burn similarly, if not just as hotter than bakugou's explosions. it has taken years of practice to uphold your smug attitude in the face of his unyielding rage; nose wrinkled and canines grinding. even now, he is the image of perfection—a powerful god emblazoned in brimstone and baneful inferno—and you, a mere lover of art. after a moment, bakugou's resolve seems to falter. his piecing glare relents only slightly to give way for a pensive expression as he sighs, gently rubbing along the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. he throws you your shoe while standing from the bed, and as you slip it on, he shuffles over to his clothes drawer to pull out his own pair of sneakers. this prompts you to raise a brow inquisitively, but your silent question is left unanswered up until bakugou claps a hand on your shoulder and grumbles.

"c'mon, i'm fucking starving. there's a seven eleven nearby that's got spicy ramen."

and just like that, all thoughts pertaining to the test have been pulverized to dust by katsuki's unrelenting fists. the promise of food after hours of relentless mental abuse has you brushing off the sudden change of inclination in seconds, meanwhile the hothead to your right mulls over it during your trek through the empty hallways, stuffing his arms into the holes of his jacket. he had been able to overlook your constant fidgeting and intermittent noises of vexation, but too soon it became obvious that you weren't getting anywhere with the session. he would have simply offered to help if not for his own inability to concentrate, which had made itself known within the last half hour when he caught himself staring at you between taking notes. so what if he found your pouting cute? just maybe, he had started to fall in love with the way your brows furrowed at the instance of a misunderstood question; the absentminded tugging of your earlobe; the way your eyes looked without seeing, as if the smallest things held the greatest importance. sure, the tapping of your nails against a desk was a bit much, but he could always put a stop to your fretting by lacing your fingers together and kissing the back of your hand. just maybe, your bashful reactions made him want to hold you closer; to see you lounging across his lap—a throne befitting for a king—with your rose hued cheeks nestled in the crook of his neck.

not that you needed to know any of that. no fucking way would he endow another reason for you to tease him when the list was already so long.

curfew isn't for another hour, but bakugou would rather not waste time dawdling, so he uses this as reasoning for hooking your arm with his and practically hauling you out the exit. he mutters something about you being "too fucking slow" and "leaving you behind if you don't keep up", but the fact that he's dragging you along at all shows that he would have no problem resorting to desperate matters. the right amount of groveling and or compromising might mean a piggyback ride to the store, but regardless of how tempting the idea is, you decide not to further burden your friend with carrying you.

the towering shape of heights alliance becomes more and more like a speck of dust as your journey continues, the weight of your thoughts heavy on your already weary mind. you eye katsuki's side profile, noting the distinct lack of malice upon his handsome features, and smile softly to yourself. friend. it was the first word that occurred to you, albeit the least desirable and in no way comparable to the term that caused your heart to flutter within the confinements of your ribcage.

you aren't together. you don't know if you'll ever be, but when the the milieu; brimming with chaotic screams, booming laughter and disorderly merriment belonging to that of your closest friends; is whisked from the narrative, katsuki looks at you differently. whatever fragments of disdain and spite tend to crumble within the first few seconds and are replaced by an emotion that was unheard of ever having manifested in the depths of his vermillion hues. it holds a semblance to adoration, perhaps even respect, and for as long as you can recall, that is all you've wanted to see from him: to be regarded like no other.

sure, it's not like how you dreamed—he isn't very affectionate in public, though you doubt he would be even if you were together, and it always stings when he shrugs your affections off with a deriding comment—but that's just it. it's not a dream. after every scornful remark; after the day has passed and the dwindling moon takes its place in the evening sky, breaking through the curtains of his dorm; he'll kiss your hand, your blooming cheeks, your lips, all to atone for it. where no one else can see, he treats you like a divine being, and part of you wishes to think that it's because he's selfish. a bit of possessiveness has lead to many nights of a shared bed, ruffled sheets and smothering cuddles, but who are you to complain? everything he gives you is more real than any well-constructed reverie.

he may not be yours, and you may not be his, but no one else will suffice for either of you, and that is the unspoken truth.

the minimal bitterness in the autumn breeze makes for a refreshing atmosphere with the only discontent being the hunger that claws at your stomach. bakugou has never been merciful towards anyone, let alone the self-acclaimed nuisance who interrupts his studying with half-baked plans of adventure, but you're ever so grateful for the rare times where he is.

you know you won't have to wait long now that the smell of milk bread and takoyaki trickles into the air, much like the faint pitter patter of raindrops on the concrete. the shower is horribly ill-timed, but you hardly mind, especially when the droplets cling to bakugou's eyelashes like crystalline gemstones; glimmering faintly with every blink as they catch the suns rays. it settles below the horizon, only a sliver of golden yellow to be seen dancing in the tree boughs above, and the fuck if the way it illuminates your not-boyfriend's visage isn't absolutely breathtaking. the glimpse of honeyed skin and kissable lips—pulled into a pensive pout—draws you in deeper, and deeper, and oh god i've been caught—

"you got a staring problem, dumbass?" he grumbles, a roseal color dusting his ears that he swears is from the cold.

even his offensive nicknames are laced with an abnormal tenderness, and knowing that you're the only one with the privilege to hear it causes your chest to swell with delight. you nibble your bottom lip, hoping that it will somehow hide the fleet of giggles bubbling in your throat, but it does no such thing. "yeah, it's weird. whenever i see something beautiful, i just feel compelled to stare at it."

you don't need to look at him to know you've struck a nerve, but you do anyways, and his face grows redder under the intensity of your teasing leer. he sputters, curses falling from past his lips like a waterfall, and rips his arm from your grasp to cradle it as if you've burned him. any sane person would have backed down the second mini explosions began flaring up from his palms, however, you are perhaps the exact opposite, as to be expected when surrounding yourself with the infamous bakusquad, who (excluding bakugou) procured one braincell to share amongst themselves. years of having to put up with and, by extension, learn how to effectively handle bakugou's fits have proven to be time well spent.

you remain none the wiser to the concerned stares of others as he spouts a line of insults; incomprehensible from behind his curled fist pressed tightly to his mouth.

"you-you can't just say that kinda shit out loud, dumbass!" and although he may seem mad, he's already dragging you down the street. you test your luck by huddling closer and resting your chin on his shoulder, your steady pace never faltering.

"is the katsuki bakugou stumbling over his words from a little compliment?" it almost feels like you've won, but then the blonde proceeds to cover your face with his still damp hand. the little shit had timed it perfectly so that your open mouth would taste the saltiness of his sweat—quite the contrary to its sugary caramel aroma—and if you weren't so preoccupied by the resonance of his cackling laugh, you might have spent the rest of the trip gagging and complaining about the whole ordeal. he hardly seems bothered, wiping your saliva on his trousers and going forth with that customary lumbering strut, which always has you torn between fawning, chortling or questioning if he has fucking weights down his pants.

nonetheless, you can't help but murmur how cute he looks as you swing your free arm in tune with your steps.

by the time you've arrived at the shop, the sun has long since disappeared; welcoming hues of purple, navy blue and hints of orange to dapple the heavens, along with the foretelling of stars. you can't begin to describe how lucky you are to be living in a city with such beautiful scenery, even when the thin clouds of smog from factories often hinder your view of it. the fluorescent lights from the 'open' sign flash sporadically, casting a cobalt glow to dance across your dazed expression. katsuki watches with intent, chuckling at how easily distracted you can get as he tugs you inside by the cloth of your shirt.

the person behind the cash register spares a customary greeting before returning to their magazine, and bakugou makes a beeline for the intended isle, something akin to excitement radiating from him. he wears it much differently, and it resembles is go-to callous guise in almost every way, but you're able to detect the slight shift in demeanor as if its the easiest thing in the world. you hardly register that he's removed himself from you until the distance grows too large to ignore, and you shuffle over to the place beside him with a newfound adrenaline. the crisp air of the corner store heightens your senses as you tap your foot to the pop song playing overhead.

the only other sound is of katsuki examining the ramen and deciding what level of spice he should get, encouraging you to ponder what sort of hellish nightmare he has planned for the rest of the group. it was just last week when he dared kaminari to try some of the noodles, and the poor boy had spent ten minutes weeping in snot-nosed agony that you would have to be insane to put something that hot in your mouth. bakugou had laughed at his misery and carried on eating with vigor, mocking the others for their weak taste buds.

after a beat of silence, you decide to test your luck again by poking is shoulder, as well as batting your eyelashes at him and cocking your head to the side.

"can we get some candy?"

bakugou waves his hand dismissively, which is all the conformation you need before rounding the corner to peruse the variety of sweets on display. you immediately spot the marked parcels of sour gumdrops and assorted licorice and giggle to yourself as you pick them out, unaware of the gentle smile the blonde wears in regards to your child-like glee.

"yeah, just don't eat it all in one sitting. you go through that shit way too fast—it's unhealthy."

you won't bother commenting on his strict, motherly advisement, because you know it's in his best interest. he's grumbled about "stuffing your body with all that garbage" on numerous occasions, and while the hypocrisy might have annoyed you at one point ("and i assume gouging yourself on spicy ramen is completely different?") you realized rationing your candy would benefit both your health and your wallet. you nod, despite knowing he can't see, and idly feel for your back pocket, wondering just how much katsuki plans to stock up. money isn't exactly an issue, so you suppose it doesn't matter, but the amount of packets he normally brings back is downright criminal.

"don't be shy," he eventually says, "i'm buying. you're responsible enough not to buy out the whole store, right?"

your confusion overwhelms the urge to roll your eyes at his sarcasm, but there also lies a hint of elation that he would offer to buy.

"i figured i'd be paying as compensation for messing with you." you stand on the tips of your toes to poke your head over the isle, feeling very tempted to ruffle his hair whilst he gathers the packages of ramen into his basket.

"nah, you can pay me back in some other way." his eyes flick upwards to meet your devilish smirk, and he turns away with an affronted noise, blood rushing to his cheeks.

"oh? i can't wait to see what you have in mind~."

and there go the sparks. they last but a few moments before katsuki composes himself, presumably because he realizes making a scene won't help the situation, but he still throws a glare at you from a distance as he beckons you closer. it seems like he's gotten all he needs, so you hastily grab whatever sweets are left on your mental list and rush back to the counter. a comfortable silence sits between you both as your items are checked out, and in that time, you observe the significant difference between pre-late-night-shopping-run bakugou and food-deprived-study-date bakugou. his shoulders are more relaxed, as is his facial appearance, and you'll be damned if you ever forget the way he smiles when he catches you looking from his peripheral vision.

it's soft and unguarded and leaves you struggling for breath as he waits for the cashier to turn away, then promptly laces your fingers together. what? katsuki takes the bag and pulls you effortlessly; like a ragdoll; a mere toy at his disposal; out into the brisk evening. his thumb brushes the back of your hand, making you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it, and he titters freely. what? the streetlamps glint brightly, flickering at random intervals as you travel onward at a leisurely pace. the roads closest to U.A. aren't as packed as the ones deeper into the city, and thus you are the only two souls to be found, save for the few cars that speed by under the faint luminescence of nearing traffic lights. katsuki squeezes your palm, then slithers his hand out of your hold to replace it at your waist, methodically caressing the skin there in a way that has your knees buckling. you sputter witlessly, attempting to catch the thoughts that flee from your mind like birds to the wind. the blonde is nothing less than ecstatic to be the reason for your flustered state, and he takes full advantage of it by leaning in and hovering his mouth just inches from your own.

"i'll take my payment now." and oh lord, you think. he doesn't have to ask me twice. your lips collide with his, molding together like melted toffee; just as sweet and addictive. you've shared kisses before; ones that left you bruised and scrambling for a coverup the next day; ones that felt like fire but were tinged with honey that soothed your throat; fleeting ones that were never enough. you were sure that your need for affection would never truly be satiated unless it was from the boy you held most dear, and with the moon as your sole witness, katsuki was happy to oblige.

"starbursts. . ." he huffs after pulling away, massaging your hip to subdue your dissatisfied hum. "you taste like cherry starbursts."

he doesn't seem to mind by the way he leans in for another kiss, and another, and another, until you're a jittery mess in his arms. you press against his chest, a wistful sigh escaping you when you part once more.

"not that i'm complaining, but where's this coming from? you're usually not so touchy." the last bit of your utterance trails off as bakugou presses his lips to your forehead and keeps them there. moments pass, and when he finally pulls away, its to hide his blush by walking ahead of you. "i should be able to kiss my partner whenever i please, shouldn't i?" he doesn't even give you a chance to catch up, because his words have you rooted to the spot. what urges your feet to move is the haughty smirk he tosses over his shoulder, and even then, the race has only begun; your demands for him to stop echoing down the street as you chase him.

cheeky bastard.

#💥.katsuki #bakugou x male reader #katsuki bakugou x male reader #bakugou x gn!reader #male reader insert #mha x male reader #gn reader #mha x gn!reader #boku no hero x reader #bakugou x you

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sansxfuckyou · 2 years

Text

Blade of fire

A sword, and fire, a fire sword that would help, right? Yeah it should help, assuming FP even has a flame sword that she would let me use. I can see the castle! Yes! We might make it!

"Jake, think were gonna make it?" I asked as I tried to steady myself on his back when he sped up.

"We have to, don't we?" Jake replied with as he started to take leaps across the flaming pits scattered across the charred landscape that was the flame kingdom.

"Right, you think FP will be willing to help us out?" I asked fear starting to sink in as Jake slowed his pace and shrunk down a bit, having arrived at the castle.

"Hopefully." Was all Jake said in response as I hopped down and started the trek into the castle path blocked by two guards who let us through after realizing that even Jake was afraid and my weapons weren't raised, that we came in peace.

"Hey FP! You home?" I shouted across the empty halls before hearing a battle cry, turning my head to see where it came from being greeted with FP busting down the door, a flaming sword in hand as she slashed at the tentacles of glitching darkness like it was nothing and watching as the tentacles fell to the floor and disappeared on contact.

"Dude, that was cool." Jake said almost quietly before FP looked over to us and started to walk down the stairs after jamming the door shut knowing it would keep back the darkness for long enough.

"Finn, Jake, great to see you now, we need your help with what you just saw me fighting." FP claimed as she rushed over to me and hugged me, I had to shove her off, no hard feelings but I really don't want to be fighting off whatever the glitch is without any clothes.

"Do you have any more of those flame swords? Our weapons don't work and we haven't found any other ones that do." I explained to FP.

"No, this is the only one of it's kind, but I'm sure the other princesses might have some that would work." FP told us before tossing the sword back, both slicing a stray tentacle and lodging it in the wall, man she's hot, literally.

"Alright, me and Jake are gonna check in on Marceline, see if she can help us out." I claimed before me and Jake made our leave, knowing FP could handle whatever was coming her way, her alignment came in handy for these situations.

"Dude, Marceline?!" Jake asked me as he transformed back into a massive dog letting me hop on his back first.

"She can help us, we might even be able to convince her to try and get her dad to help us." I explained as Jake continued to gallop across the lands.

"Good point, then lets go already!" He exclaimed before picking up his pace and took larger steps to try and make it over to Marcys faster.

Lets hope she hasn't been touched by this corruption yet, without her, we would have to rely on... Ice King, I don't even want to think of that, just thinking about it makes me queasy.

"Hey Jake?" I asked.

"Yeah Finn?" Jake responded with.

"If Marcy isn't ok, do you think we'll be the last uncorrupted ones, other than FP?" I asked, the thought of being stranded in a broken world with just a few others made me feel empty inside.

"Nah, we can always look for huntress wizard she's good at surviving, besides, we haven't had a croak dream that involves this glitch, so we can be sure we won't die because of it." Jake said to try and reassure me, only comforting me a little bit as we crossed out of the flame kingdom and into the kingdom with Marcelines cave.

"Do you think that Marcys gonna be ok?" I asked hearing no response, being able to feel Jake slow down his walking a bit. "Jake?" I asked once more.

"I'm sure she's fine." Jake said before picking up his pace again forcing me to grip his orange fur to make sure I don't fall off of him.

"She better be." I said quietly before laying down on Jakes back and closing my eyes.

#flame princess #adventure time #come and learn with pibby #finns pov #jake the dog #finn the human #writing #drabble #fanfiction #ice king #marceline #huntress wizard #tw tentacles #tw glitch #tw vampire #tw fire #tw screaming #tw sword #tw weapon

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barelyaware · 3 years

Text

Purely Political update is up ~

Chapter 1 ao3

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Chapter 2: The wedding

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Zuko and Katara have been spending every meal together since she's arrived.

For dinner, they are joined by both their families and delegations and lunch is a rotation of close relatives. But for breakfast, they are left alone to get to know each other one on one.

Zuko anticipates awkwardness. He knows he's not much of a talker. But Katara seems to fill the gaps between his thoughts with little effort.

They start with safe topics: plans for the wedding and fond childhood memories. Zuko learns of her closeness to her father, brother and sister-in-law. Although he could already tell by the casual interactions between them at shared meal times.

Soon they're talking about anything and everything. What it's like being the only waterbender her age. How she's thankful for her teacher Hama, since the other waterbenders in her tribe are mainly healers. How she likes to learn everything but feels more herself when she's allowed to train like a warrior. How scared she was when she found out about the marriage but how relieved she is now that she's gotten to know him. Zuko opens up about his family. He tells her about Azula. He tells her about how he got his scar. How his uncle banished his father afterwards. He's expecting pity or empty words. But she just reaches for his hand and holds it tightly until an advisor eventually interrupts to bring Zuko to his next meeting. There's a warm tingling in his fingers for the rest of the day.

It isn't an entirely new sensation. He'd felt something similar with Mai all those years ago. But it had been a long time and he's just too conscious of how Katara is so stunning and warm and easy to talk to. It feels..itchy.

That morning it's all he can do to keep himself from reaching out to her...to stroke her cheek...to kiss her. He can feel the tension in his joints and he knows he's being short with her but he can't help it.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His voice wavers as he lies and Katara gives him a pointed look.

“Really?”

“I’m just..thinking.”

“About what?”

Zuko sighs. “About the wedding. About us. About the future.”

Katara’s face relaxes as she lets out a deep breath. “Well of course you are. I can’t stop thinking about it either. I’m so nervous I’m gonna mess up something with the ceremony even though I keep going over it in my head.” She smiles nervously. “But I'm also really excited.”

“You are?”

“Well aren't you?”

He doesn't know what to say. He hasn't allowed himself to be excited. He's been trying so desperately to manage his expectations.

“I'm just really nervous.”

Katara finds his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, we're in this together.”

Zuko wonders how her hand could fit so perfectly in his.

...

The wedding ceremony passes him by in a haze. He does his best not to mumble through his cues and to maintain eye contact with Katara as he speaks.

“You may kiss the bride to seal your vows.”

No. No no no, it's too soon. How did we already get to this part?

Katara is looking at him so fondly it feels like she's clutching his heart in her hand.

He leans into her, meeting her lips soft and sweet.

His chest tightens uncomfortably and it takes all his efforts to maintain a calm facade. He digs his nails into his palm until he can feel his skin rip and finally forces himself to break away from her. His head is spinning.

When they move to the main ballroom and the banquet begins, he feels like he won't make it till the end. There's an ache that starts in his throat and echoes through his upper body. A burning sensation that he can't swallow.

How much longer is this going to take? The question repeats in his head, like a mantra. It's the only thing he can bring himself to focus on. If he breaks his concentration, his eyes will roam and he knows they can't be trusted to behave.

There's so much tension in his body, he feels like he's going to break by the time the feast has ended.

Zuko is feeling feverish with the now persistent ache making its way all the way down to his feet. He walks a tortoise-snail’s pace as they trek from the banquet hall to his chambers. Katara has her own room but they're expected to be together for their wedding night. There's also a clause in their marriage contact for a monthly room share for the purpose of producing an heir. He wishes he could stop thinking about all that entails.

When they arrive he finally let's his eyes wander.

Katara is absolutely stunning in her ceremonial robes. He hasn't let himself look at her properly all day. Her waist is cinched with a beaded blue sash and her curves are accentuated with draped silken layers of gold and silver. He rips his gaze away from her chest when he notices it settle, only to be drawn in by her lips. they're painted red and there's a smudge from when they kissed that makes his head start to spin again.

“Hi.” Her voice is soft and sweet as summer rain.

“Hi.” His voice is ragged and he realizes his breathing is labored. He shakes his head to shift his gaze to her eyes.

“So—”

“—I’m sorry, Katara, but I'm not..I'm not feeling very well right now.” At least he doesn't have to lie. He can guess the way he looks by the concern painted on her face. She's so entirely exquisite, even with her features slightly contorted.

“Would you like me to try to heal you?”

He tries not to panic. If she were to touch him he knows he couldn't control himself. The tension in his body, built up for nothing, would fall apart at once and the hunger he's been suppressing since their kiss (since long before) would rear its ugly head. She would see him as a monster. A fire nation beast taking advantage of a woman seeking no more than friendship with him.

“I can feel that I need to rest,” he ends up saying. Another half-truth.

“Of course. Whatever you need.” She smiles but there's an awkwardness that he hasn't felt from her before. It doesn't feel like her. But you've just known her through letters. You only met a week ago. How could you possibly know her enough to say? The thoughts manifest into new aches in his body.

“Thank you for understanding.”

Chapter 3

#Fic #zutara fic #zutara #my fic #zutara month 2021 #zutaramonth #Katara fanart #My posts

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hold-your-applause · 4 years

Text

This is something I've had on my mind for quite a while

Warning: Major spoilers for Red Dead Redemption 2

Where I Can't Follow

You could feel the wind blowing, but all you could hear was your own labored breathing. Each heartbeat felt like a punch in the chest, all your running pushing your body to its limit, but stopping now could mean stopping for good, and that wasn't an option.

Your hands were going numb from the cold air of the mountain you were climbing. Everything was becoming stiff and hard to move, but with John ahead of you and Arthur pushing you forward from behind you, you were able to keep a good pace.

Until the coughing started again.

You and John both stopped and turned back to look at Arthur. He was now hunched over, lungs rattling with every breath he tried to take, hands on his knees to keep himself somewhat upright.

"Arthur, we need to keep moving, we don't have much time."

He lifted a hand and waved you off.

"You go."

John stepped forward, standing directly behind you.

"Keep pushing, Arthur."

"No." Arthur stood up again, and his next cough cleared some of the blood from his lungs, staining his lips and the ground where it fell.

His tuberculosis was no secret to anyone anymore. After he passed out in Saint Denis and was given his diagnosis by that kind doctor, he couldn't find it in himself to keep it from you. He told you as soon as he was able to, and even with such grim news, you kept positive and hopeful, as you always did.

He wiped his mouth.

"No, I think I've pushed all I can."

There was no hope left for him now.

You shook your head. "Arthur, come on, we need to go."

"You go."

You forced your frozen fingers to curl so you could clench your fists, ignoring the pain.

"No, Arthur, we can make it. I ain't going without you."

He let out a shaky sigh as he looked at you, eyes softer than you'd ever seen them before.

You didn't deserve any of what was happening right now. You were too good to be running around with the gang, committing petty theft here and there. You were too sweet to give a heathen like him the time of day. You were too kind to be forced to run for your life because of the mistakes bad men made.

What you did deserve was everything he couldn't give you.

He reached up to take off his hat, voice quiet and words heavy.

"We ain't all gonna make it."

You opened your mouth again to protest, but he reached out and gently placed the hat on your head, the brim hiding him from your view. This stunned you, and whatever you had planned to say was quickly forgotten.

"Go. I'll hold them off."

You were vaguely aware of him grabbing John's shoulder, your mind working overtime to try to come to terms with what was really happening.

"It would mean a lot to me. Please."

You heard Arthur taking off his effects, but not the argument between him and John. Your mind kept racing, trying to find a way out of this for him. There had to be something.

"Get the hell out of here and be a goddamned man!" Arthur shouted at John, which snapped you out of your train of thought. Arthur was now standing further away from you on the slope of a small cliff. He was clearly intending to split off from you and John to distract Micah and give you an opening to run.

This would be the last time you would ever lay eyes on Arthur Morgan.

John was now directly behind you, voice weak.

"You were my brother."

You were no longer optimistic.

"I know."

You were in denial.

"Arthur, if you go, I'm coming after you. I'll drag you back myself if I have to."

Arthur sighed again, looking at John and silently pleading with him to help him finally do the right thing.

You felt John's hand on your shoulder.

"Let's go."

You jerked it away from his grip.

"No! I ain't goin'!"

Suddenly his arm was around your middle, and even in his weakened state, it didn't take much effort to yank you back several feet.

"I'm sorry."

"Let me go!"

You wanted to go kicking and screaming, but your body wasn't capable at the moment.

"Arthur, please!"

Arthur watched John drag you back, focusing on your face as you struggled to break away.

"Go on."

"Arthur, stop it!"

"I'm sorry."

When he turned to start the trek up the cliff, your eyes welled with tears as they watched his back. It was a common sight for you, since you followed him everywhere, even to the ends of the earth, if he asked.

You never thought when the time came, he'd ask you not to.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 x reader #angst #director fugue

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gosickoonmymode · 4 years

Text

Hunted

18+ Bloodhound x reader!!!

Summary: Run rabbit run rabbit run run run.

Details and story under the cut WEW

You've been running for a while now, unsure how long exactly, but you know it's only a matter of time before Bloodhound is on you. You're wondering why they haven't caught up already, they always find you quickly when you get separated during the games. Are they waiting for a certain amount of time? Are they on the way? Are they already right behind you, reveling in watching you from the shadows? Your heart is going a mile a minute, you want to be caught, but you want to put up a fight as well.

Some Details: Continuation of my last story, it’s gonna get SAUCY! Bloodhound and reader are gender neutral, dom stuff, primal dom stuff??? rope stuff?!?! BH has a lil something for ya but you decide what that is (strap-on or organic). Reach arounds apparently apply to everyone so ya know. Also like, BH is 6 feet or something so I wrote this for the person to be shorter than that but kept it ambiguous-ish. Sorry if you’re tall.

It's so surreal how just earlier today the two of you were good friends, and now you're being hunted in a forest by them. And you love it. You slow to a careful walk, gently tread over a log trying not to disturb anything. You softly step down and take a seat using it for cover. You have no idea where they could be, if they'll pounce while you sit. Still, you need to rest for a minute. You're beginning to feel that exhaustion from earlier, the physical toll the games had on you is creeping up.

After a couple minutes of slowing your breathing you peak out over the log, you check all surrounding areas but see nothing. Of course, that doesn't mean no one is there. You slowly rise to your feet and listen, you can only hear the sounds of the night critters. You remember how Bloodhound made no noise at all when they walked toward you in the living room, so they'll certainly make little to none out here. You do one more look over before running off again. Maybe 10 minutes pass, you can hardly run anymore but you keep trekking on clumsily. Suddenly, you get pulled backward by your wrist.

You're spun around by the force, Hound grabs your free hand and shoves you hard against a nearby tree. They press their body against yours, you’re so tired you can’t really bring yourself to push back. Now you know why they waited so long, they wanted you worn down. They force your arms together, hold both wrists with one hand and slide the rope from their shoulder. You manage to get one arm free and use your leftover strength to push against them, but Hound hardly flinches. They plant their feet firmly on the ground, put their forearm across your chest, and shove you back against the tree with more weight than before. They bring their face centimetres from yours, “Do not get cute with me,” they say through gritted teeth.

Both your arms are free, you push on them to the best of your ability but you’re wiped out. Bloodhound sighs in frustration as they grab your wrists, one again placing them in one hand in an attempt to stop you from struggling. You twist slightly only to get jerked forward, “Þú ert bráð mín,” they glare at you, “you do what I tell you, understand?” You sit still, heeding their words. Bloodhound picks up the rope up from the ground, it must have fallen when you tried to escape. They release one wrist and tie the rope around the other that’s still gripped tight in their rugged, scarred hand. Hound then grabs you by the back of your hair, “stay put,” they command. You nod in silence, they seem suspicious of your obedience, but curious over what you might do. They let you go, step to the side, and the moment there’s an opening you yank the rope from their grip. You take one step to run in the opposite direction of them before they slam you into your initial spot by pushing back on your shoulder. Their one hand pressing on your shoulder is stronger than your entire body at the moment. Their eyes are gleaming in the moonlight, their brow is furrowed, they almost look like they’re going in for the kill.

Hound steps toward you, removes their hand from your shoulder and grips your neck just hard enough to make you pleasantly dizzy, “Didn’t you hear me?” they growl. Their lips hover just by your ear, “Stay. Put,” they release you and continue where they left off. Your mind is swimming, the want for them to have their way with you is too strong to fight now, you’ve never heard them speak in this voice and you want to obey. Once they come back around, they tie your other hand. After adjusting it so you can’t pull your arms forward, but are comfortable in your position, they stand directly in front of you. You’re squirming in anticipation, you want them to touch you, to fuck you, but they just stand and observe for a while. You look at their face, they look so satisfied watching your subtle hip movements.

Just when you’re about to beg for it they move in and kiss you with ferocity. They bring their mouth to your neck and suck on it. Meanwhile they’re undoing the buttons of your pajama top. After the last button is undone, they return to kissing you, their tongue wrapping around yours. Their hands go from your chest, to your waist, to your ass. They pull you into them, squeezing your ass hard, you can feel their cock pressing up against you through their pants. Hound stops making out with you and moves down to your waist. They pull your pants off leaving your underwear behind, you breathe in deep while they stare.

They let out a soft laugh, "I see you're ready for me," they look up at you, "tell me..." They pull off your underwear and stand up, "...is this the kind of thing you thought of in the shower?" Bloodhound puts their hand on your crotch and rubs gently, “...hmm?” You don’t answer, you’re hardly paying attention to their words, you just feel your body aching for more. They notice your desperation and remove their hand. "You've been awfully disobedient, perhaps I should make you wait longer," they taunt.

You look at them with a pleading expression and shake your head, "I’m sorry. I’ll obey, I’ll do whatever you want. Just, please..."

They look at you sternly, "Please what?"

You look down and swallow hard, "please...fuck me.." you reply in a small voice.

They grab your chin and make you face them, "look me in the eyes and speak clearly. Please, what?" they demand.

You look them dead in the eyes, "please fuck me," you say decisively.

Bloodhound grabs your shoulders and pushes you to your knees, moves their sweats out of the way, and taps your face, "get it wet." You lick your lips and open your mouth without hesitation. They face fuck you briefly, making sure they’re good and slick. They pull you back up to your feet, lift your leg, and push them-self into you with ease. They don't build up, they're thrusting hard, your eyes well up in pleasure. They nibble on your ear, breathing heavily as they pound into you at a steady pace.

"B-Bloodhound...Ah!" You moan, loud. They lift your other leg and hold you up, driving you down onto them deeper. You're losing your mind, "Mmmnn, hah..fffuck! Hound!" Bloodhound is huffing and groaning, it’s so much hotter than you imagined. They bite and suck on your neck, thrusting faster. Your legs are aching but you want to keep going. Hound stops suddenly and puts you down, you look at them confused. They take out a knife, cut the rope, and put the knife away. They spin you around, “Ass up,” they push you and you drop yourself to the ground, the side of your face in the leaves and dirt.

You feel wonderfully exposed with your ass in the air, knowing they can see everything. They get on their knees and enter you with the same energy as a moment ago. One hand is squeezing your butt and the other is giving you a reach around, your body is completely engulfed with ecstasy. You're not holding back your voice even slightly, you love every second of this. Hound slaps your ass hard and you cry out, they lift you upright and grab your neck.

Their speed increases, both inside and out, their grip on your neck tightens enough to make you dizzy again. You can't hold it, "Hound, I'm..."

They slow their movement dramatically, remove their hand from your crotch, and grab your chin with the one on your neck, "you will not until I say you can," they growl. You feel like crying, you want it so bad. Bloodhound gives an occasional hard thrust or two, enough to keep you right on the cusp of climax but not enough to go all the way. They take their hand off your chin, remove your shirt completely, and shove you back to the ground. You can feel their eyes scanning your naked flesh, it makes you shiver.

Bloodhound slides their hands from your upper back to your ass. They grip and rub it as they very slowly slide in and out of you. The tension is becoming too great, you feel you might explode. "Do you wish to climax?" they ask in a calm, dominating voice.

"yes...” you plead.

They push into you hard giving you a jolt, "how bad do you want it?"

"More than anything," you say breathy and desperate.

Their hand finds its way back to your crotch, "beg, bráð mitt," they say quietly, no longer humping you.

You move your hips to stimulate yourself against them, "please, please fuck me more. I want it. I-I need it. Fuck me Blóðhundur...hh..have mercy-" you get cut off by them going at you more fierce than before, their hand working the front of you like no other. They’re gripping your ass so hard you know it’ll leave a mark. You're screaming with pleasure, they moan and grunt as they push inside you as deep as they can go. Your body is going completely wild, "Oh god I'm cumming! Ah! Fuck! Bloodhound!" they don't slow down even as you loudly orgasm, each of their thrusts prolonging your joyous release.

Bloodhound lets out a hard exhale, they thrust deep as they tremble, reaching climax as well. The two of you remain in position for a moment, catching your breath, before Hound pulls out and stands up. You stay on the ground for a moment more, you're so tired you can hardly move. Bloodhound helps you stand and hands you a rag from their pocket, they’ve already tucked their dick back into their sweats. You clean up and they take it back, folding it before putting it away, “Have to wash all of this anyway,” they mumble to them-self. They shake out your clothes and help you get dressed, your legs feel like noodles. They guide you to sit against a tree, "Are you okay to walk?" they ask as they untie your wrists.

You sit with your eyes closed, feeling your legs quiver, "um....dunno.."

They tie the halved rope back together and wrap it around their bicep, "don't worry about it." Hound picks you up bridal style and begins the walk back home.

You find it silly that you’re blushing like mad over being carried, after what the two of you just did. Suddenly you notice the dust and dirt all over you, "aww man I'm gonna need another shower," you whine, brushing the twigs and leaves out of your hair.

Bloodhound laughs, "I'll need one as well. We can take one together when we get back. I’ll wash you so you may rest." They tenderly kiss the top of your head, “From now on I’ll be caring for you, elskan mín.”

You blush more and rest your head against them. “Thanks Hound," you smile peacefully. It really is a beautiful night.

#bloodhound x reader #nsft #nsft text #fanfiction #nsft fanfiction #i ain't no novelist but i write what i like #and what i like #is fantasies about this nb hunter

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jafndaegur · 4 years

Text

Noise of Rain | Chapter 1

Sesskag

Endless Forlorness Made me Numb

A/N: so @fandomplethora and I were talking about Mo Dao Zu Shi AUs. And I was like "nooo, I'm not gonna work on my Sesskag version. I have too many WIPs already". You know, like a liar. So here's my MDZS au for Sesskag🤣 it happens during the course of the canon-timeline, I guess before Final Act. Sooo yeah. I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is🤣🤣🤣

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Kagome watched with pursed lips as the last of the sun set over the horizon. Gilded rays fluttered over the earth, streaming across the trees and grass like rivers of fire. Warm. Beautifully and utterly warm. The dying sunlight drenched her skin, and she tilted her head back—trying to drink in it's comfort.

Trying to ignore the pressing cold digging its way into the edges of her senses.

Sunset's birth left a wake open for the creatures she'd come to dislike and maybe even hate. Soon she knew the faint pale wisps of the Soul Stealers would come into view. They would approach but never broach, as if taunting the unspoken agreement of distance. Time and time again, they teased the limits, dancing along the edge of her sights until she spun around. In the back of her mind she wondered if it would be worth it to just fork her spirit over to Kikyo. The undead priestess deserved a life, free from trickery or deceit. Something pure—

Only caught by the ascended.

After all, before her egregious turn to...what Kagome liked to think of as the emo rebellious phase, Kikyo had been rather fair and just. The death dealt to her an unfair blow by fate into the hands of a psycho spider demon.

But as the thought began to teeter close to the cusp of action, Sango's voice called her from their campsite and the idea dissipated.

Still.

That darkened patch in the back of her mind, the one that hid behind bright smiles and dazzling sapphire eyes, pulsed. It reached out and brushed against her reiki, causing the edges to crumble to dust, unreplenished. Not that Kagome knew.

It wasn't as if anyone were helping her cultivate her priestess powers. So if she felt a bit more fatigued or a little more drained, she blamed it on the fact that Inuyasha was nowhere to be seen in the camp. Although she hadn't expected to see him. With the Soul Stealers in close proximity, they always chimed his cue to leave.

The passing scenery is going to collapse—

Cold wrapped her mind and complete midnight gripped her reiki. She cried out for help but no one could hear.

They didn't need her. Just a jewel-shard detector. They didn't want her. Just a lesser reincarnation.

—along the obsequious side.

"Oi, Kagome," Inuyasha's voice drew her from her sleep-deprived autopilot. "Can't you pick up the pace?"

Her brow twitched and she tried to find a good reason to not "Sit" him then and there. But her chest heaved and the exhaustion washed over her, and she acquiesced. Today was neither the time nor the place. As their group moved forward in the direction of the next Shikon jewel piece when the hanyou had picked up scents of Sesshomaru traveling their direction. In a bout of stubbornness, he refused to change course. Insistent that if his half-brother wanted to fight, then he wouldn't shy away.

Kagome's brow rose as Sesshomaru’s own little group met up with theirs.

Rin perched happily on Ah-Un's back, Jaken in tow, and the proud daiyoukai at the front—the little quartet brushed passed them as if they weren't there. Other than the pleasant wave and hello Rin shouted in their direction, it was almost like they didn't exist.

Almost.

As they continued on, Kagome shivered as the sensation of Sesshomaru’s youki swept over them. It probed with an innocent inquisition that was disarming. She wondered why he was searching to change the hidden. But in the moment that she detected his power, it eased away and left them.

"What an asshole, he probably just came around to show-off," Inuyasha huffed.

Kagome wondered if that was the case. The full youkai had been searching for something. But what?

She felt herself going to the dark spot in her mind, wondering if she took hold of it and reached out—would Sesshomaru’s presence return? Was this darkness, this strange thing, was this what he looked for? Kagome felt half inclined to try. She wanted him to turn around.

To notice that she felt…

Miroku called out that he noticed a dark aura from the north, something suspicious and chilling.

Kagome sighed and supposed that it didn't matter how she felt. Hitching her backpack onto her shoulders, she closed her eyes and sifted for that familiar feeling of the sacred jewel. While she wasn't sure, something stirred her heart in the direction the monk had pointed to.

With a triumph smile, she hopped up to the front next to the half-demon. "I'm not 100% sure, but I think there's a shard in that direction."

That pleased Inuyasha enough. "Alright! Let's get a move on then."

They made camp a couple miles out from wherever they were headed next. A heavy dread had covered the little campsite, the nearby evil seeping close enough to have everyone on edge. Inuyasha and Miroku both kept a vigilant watch neither one comfortable to rest. Sango helped keep Shippo and Kirara calm enough to doze into a restless sleep. Kagome stared off into the distance. The Soul Stealers were in the opposite direction of the unholy aura; wandering, looking.

But unlike the previous night where they had toyed with the notion of trying to take her spirit again, their movements differed. Unorganized and haphazard—the ghostly creatures meandered in confusion.

Heart pounding against her chest, Kagome couldn't help the small smile wiggling its way onto her face. In her mind's eye, she cupped the darkness more. After all, it had swallowed her reiki whole, hiding it from even Miroku's detection.

It protected the treasure by throwing away the guidance everyone depended on.

The middle of the night sung out to her and she awoke on a cold sweat. Someone was crying. But everyone had fallen asleep. Miroku and Inuyasha seemed fitfully sleeping at best, while Sango and Shippo curled in for warmth against Kirara's warm side. The fire-cat however, glanced at her with worried large eyes.

Kagome hoisted the holy bow and arrows onto her shoulder. She gave an appeasing pet the demon's nose.

"Don't worry, I'm just going to investigate," she murmured gently. "Something's off. And I want to make sure we don't walk into a trap later."

Kirara gave a low growl but she did not move otherwise.

Kagome smiled and snuck forward. The morning had yet to start, so the air felt frigid and moist. Dew just barely started to accumulate on dark forest and heavy grass. Pushing her way through the underbrush, the inner compass in her chest pointed the direction she needed. Not to mention the voice she'd heard began to cry louder. Words still weren't quite comprehensible but the sentiment was there.

The forest started to scar away, replaced by shale and growing rigid crags. Heavy mist permeated the area more. Kagome drew her bow and crouched low, still persisting. The crying started to take on a form.

Noise of rain. It wept. Noise of rain your footsteps cry.

And suddenly just like that, Kagome spun around, arrow ready to shoot. Naturally, Naraku stood behind her—his arms behind his back, his face pensive.

"Kagome," he greeted, voice heavy and hesitate.

Her brow cocked. "Naraku. What do you want?"

Noise of rain—

"What are you doing here so far from your watchdog?" He asked, still nothing but curiosity and even perplexity radiating off of him.

—your footsteps cry.

"Something called me," she whispered.

The spider hanyou's crimson eyes narrowed and he walked away. "Follow me."

As they trekked, the mist began to seep with a type of miasma, but for some reason... It didn't hurt her. Shady, inky tendrils looped slow through the air as they trudged upwards, following the rise of the mountains.

"I found this place, yet it confounds even me." Naraku drawled, dark hair wavering. "There is some type of life. But it refuses to interact."

"Can you blame it?" Kagome bit back.

He chuckled darkly.

They reached the peak.

Below them an infinite spiral of darkness. Except this time not one voice cried out to her. They all whispered and unfurled. They all heard her.

They reached for her.

"What's down there?" She murmured.

"As far as I can tell, these are burial mounds." Naraku hummed. "Any one place you dig, there are bound to be bones."

The darkness over her reiki swelled. Kagome trembled.

"The miasma here is not my doing," Naraku continued. "It's not poisonous. Just resentful. It's quite the odd place."

She reached out her hand and the voices smiled. "You are wanted here. Please help us here. This is the end of all lies."

"I don't think it's resentful," she whispered.

"Interesting theory," Naraku's voice curved and drawled. "Would you like to test that?"

Before she could ask what he meant, his foot collided into her back. She screamed as her body tottered over the edge. Loafers slipped, hands grasped air, and her body tumbled into the abyss' embrace.

Weak and limp she couldn't move her limbs. Every fiber, every bone, everything must have shattered at the impact's drop. Her lungs heaved painfully. The voices giggled and suddenly they were no longer begging but controlling. They grabbed at her, trying to tear her apart and reach for the reiki within her soul.

Yet that darkness from earlier, the darkness that had appeared one day and started to grow the next…

She imagined Inuyasha looking mournfully around his surroundings, wondering where she abandoned him—just like his first lover...

Her mother and brother called out for her endlessly. Their worried tones climbing and climbing but never finding the ears they wanted…

Sesshomaru’s youki poked and prodded, searching, searching, searching for her…

Her darkness consumed every part of her reiki, like a wildfire over a bonfire, it ignited a flash that had her toes digging into the ground and her will sending her to stand.

Her aura spread and she clenched her jaw, commanding the voices to quiet.

#sesskag #sesshomaru x kagome #sesshomaru #kagome higurashi #multichapter #au: mo dao zu shi #in case you guys were wondering the song is NoiseofRain sung by Takanori Nishikawa

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fuckprophecys · 5 years

Note

Writing prompt! "How many times have you attempted this?" "Too many, but I promise you I'm gonna get it this time." (Maybe hazel to Frank? Do whatever u want with it)

The day started pretty ordinary. It was the weekly wash day, so she spent about 2 hours washing her hair and putting them up in Bantu knots. She got all dressed up, helped some campers out with their morning chores, and had a light and fun breakfast. She even found herself some time to go meet her brother at their father’s temple to do some cleaning up.

That all drastically changed when she was making her way back to camp.

Hazel watched in complete and utter distress, holding back the urge to unravel a knot just so she could twirl the lock nervously between her fingers. It was only noon, the sun just starting to shimmer as the gleaming orb emerged from behind a morning cloud’s silver lining.

There, a few delicate paces beyond her, was Praetor Frank in his official's attire, sweating to the gods knees.

"How many times have you attempted this?" Her voice was gentle.

"Too many, but I promise you I'm gonna get it this time."

A gold nugget popped up at her feet as her head met her hands. Frank huffed, lifting up a large cardboard box with the Amazonian Smile on the side, and started trekking uphill.

She jumped a little, looking back up at him. With a small yelp, she scampered after him. Not caring if she kicked up dust or dirtied her shoes, she followed in his shadow.

“Frank! This isn’t going to work!”

“Yes it is, I’m making sure it will.”

Hazel tried to snatch the shiny gold scarf off the top of the box, but resulted in nearly tripping over her heels and smashing into Frank’s back.

Guess it’s a good thing he’s a very large and buff man, even if she ran into him he wouldn’t feel much of it.

“Come on Frank, think about what you’re doing.”

“Hazel I’ve got to do this.”

“It’s just one prom! You don’t have to go all out for-”

He shushed her.

“Yes I do. I must. It is my calling.”

Hazel watched him walk off down the path to the village, the pride on his shoulders nearly glittering in his Mars Strength aura and the sunlight. Soldiers from all cohorts - who were bustling about doing their midday chores - parted the way for him, then curiously followed in suit behind their leader. Some pulled out cell phones and did whatever magic they needed to access the video camera.

“This just really fluffles my chicken nuggets.” She huffed below her breath. “You don’t have to one up Reyna like this!”

No one responded to her.

Part of her wanted to save the day. Another part knew she couldn’t. A piece of her wanted to be there anyways, just to see if he can do it.

She huffed up her elegant pink hoop skirt and trekked after the rushing crowd.

The crowding stopped at the village line. Little Julia was giggling with delight as she took weapons left and right, Terminus scuffing in disapproval of people who sheepishly crossed the city limits while apologizing for the mess. The girl’s hair was a vibrant blue, no doubt meaning that she was back on track with her dream to become a powerful demigod of the ocean. Or, at least, pretending to be one. Her wooden sword was painted bronze at her side.

Hazel shoved her way through the crowd, using her skirt as a barrier between them and herself.

“Aunty Hazel!” Julia squealed with delight and bounced towards her, hair flaring out from their pigtails. “Aunty Hazel Aunty Hazel.”

Hazel didn’t remember how she got that title, much less when. It was delightful, though, so she waved at the little girl.

“Hey Julia, I’m just passing through. I don’t have my weapons, I’m a good girl and planned ahead.” She didn’t plan well, her sword was basically hiding in bush. She just didn’t want to be a burden.

“Good Job!” The little girl clapped and looked up at Terminus. For a statue, he looked very tired and agitated. Hazel offered a smile to him, and he nodded his head to the side.

Before leaving, Hazel gave Julia a tiny pink feather. Then she was off sprinting after Frank again.

She arrived just before he could set up everything. But it was still just a tad too late to stop him. The banner was already up, several bundles of flowers along the poles and carving a path in front of him. His attired changed, but only by colour.

Frank Zhang was shaking in excitement and nervousness, standing on the College Campus turf, surrounded by a lightly filled half circle crowd. Nearby, Reyna sat at a table sipping some hot chocolate. Hazel could also see Percy, watching from far off in the sidelines, his face stone blank. The universal Percy sign that he was holding back a laugh.

Hazel forced her way through the crowd, yet again using her hoop to her advantage.

Frank looked back to see her once again.

This time she offered a thumbs up. His face nearly lit up at this, and he went back to setting everything up.

A minute passed. Then two. Five. Ten.

Annabeth appeared in the distance, near her boyfriend, ushering someone with a blindfold. Hazel’s cheeks puffed up in attempted to hide a laugh. Frank stood up, the pride on his shoulders almost shimmering again. Or maybe the stripes were glowing, and she just couldn’t tell.

The crowd had started to thicken with people pooling in again. It seemed like the whole camp was there, holding its breath.

The blonde queen swiftly guided the blindfolded beauty to a spray painted X in the grass, then held up a quizzical thumbs up to Frank. The praetor took a deep breath and fixed his chest plate.

He held a thumbs up back at her.

With the crowd oozing with suspension, Annabeth took the blindfold off and jumped back as fast as she could.

“Michael Kahale, I have tried so many times to get this perfect before I asked… will you go to the Camp Jupiter Leader’s Prom with me?”

There was a moment of pure shock on the face of the Son of Venus, who was still wearing pajamas dotted with llamas in spacesuits. Then a beaming smile etched itself across his face.

“Of course!”

And the crowd erupted in cheers.

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mr-nobodys-stuff · 4 years

Text

Meeting Deku

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Description: you just moved from America to Japan for work. Moving was a bit tougher than you expected. A shy green haired boy offers to help. You meet his mom and spend a little time with them. Becoming friends with them is a must have now.

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The long flight from America to Japan is definitely a tiresome trek. Not so much physical, but more mental. The stress and nervousness of your new permanent home setting in.

You've been to Japan a few times in the past. So it's not anything to be too worried about, but still.

Musutafu, Japan. That's where you chose to live. The nicest place you could find without going too expensive.

Once the plane landed you did the usual. Walking off the plane with your carry on, fetching the rest of your luggage, finding a taxi, and finally reaching the apartments.

There is where you met the landlords, a nice little old couple.

"Now dearie, if there's anything you need, don't be afraid to ask. You have our numbers right?" The woman encloses your hand in both of hers.

"Yes, I do. I'll be fine and thank you for the place," you give her a soft smile, nodding your head.

"Perfect! Well, we better be on our way now. Got some grocery shopping to do," she says, leaving after giving her own grin.

You turned to the apartments and huffed, hyping yourself up. Time to carry your bags up to the room on the second floor. Highs weren't your favorite thing, but the second wasn't too high, thankfully.

You draped your bag around your back as you dragged the large luggage up the steps.

"Excuse me, miss!" A voice says from behind. Quickening footsteps accompanying it.

You turn to see a green haired man hurrying over to you.

"Would you like a hand?" Without giving you time to respond he pulls up the heavy bag, effortlessly.

"What floor?" He asks.

"The second," you say, leading the way. He follows you all the way to the designated floor and sets down the bag on its wheels.

"I'm Y/N by the way," you say, putting a hand on your chest.

"Izuku Midoriya, but you can just call me Deku though," he waves a hand, dismissively.

"Ok, cool!" you nod. "Do you happen to live here in the apartments?"

"Y-yeah I do! Just on the other side actually. I live with my mom, haha," he rubs the back of his neck.

"Oh, I'm just moving in and I live by myself."

"Really? Do you need any help?" He asks, grinning a little.

"Not presently. I have to wait on my things to get here first. They should get here in a few days and you don't have to help if you really don't-," you shake your head and wave your hands, partially in defense.

"Nonsense! I'd love to help! M-maybe you'd like to stop by my place to meet my mom? She'd be happy to meet our new neighbor, haha," he blushes slightly.

"Yeah, but maybe tomorrow? I'm pretty tired from the flight over. I haven't eaten all day," your stomach suddenly feeling extremely empty at the thought of food.

"Oh right! Sorry, I forgot!" He laughs nervously. "W-well if you really wanted to, you could stop by for, uh, dinner? My mom usually makes more than we can eat."

"That would be nice," you grin, feeling all warm inside. "Which apartment?"

"34"

"Ok, I'll go put this away and I'll head over," you nod, still smiling.

"O-ok!" He stutters.

"See you in a few!" You wave over your shoulder as you make you way to your apartment.

Midoriya runs to his apartment, red faced, heart racing, nerves through the roof.

"Mom!" He falls as he makes it to the kitchen.

"Izuku! What's wrong!?" Inko asks, eyes wide as her son peels his face from the floor.

"I asked a girl to come over for dinner! She's just moving in on the other side of the building!" He starts sputtering out different sentences.

Inko smiles and laughs.

"Izuku, please calm down. What's her name?" She pats his shoulder.

"Y/N," he says, trying to calm himself.

"Good thing I made enough food and hopefully she likes Udon," Inko sighs.

Izuku paces and talks the walls off. He's never brought a girl back to his house before. But something about you made him ask.

Inko cleaned a bit more and got out another bowl and chopsticks.

A knock on the door almost scared Izuku out of his boxers. He did trip and fall to his butt though.

"I'll get it!" Izuku jumps up and hurries to the door. He swings it open to see you.

You had changed from your over comfortable clothing to a bit of a nicer outfit, but nothing too over the top.

"O-oh, Y/N," he says, a blush sprawling across his features.

You smile and nod.

"Hi Deku! Sorry it took me a bit longer, I thought I'd change real quick," your own cheeks dust with a pale pink.

"Haha, yeah, you look good. Er, I-it looks good! Y-your outfit looks good I mean!" He stutters.

"Izuku! Let her in!" Inko calls from the kitchen. Her tone sounding playful.

"O-oh right! Come in," he moves so she could enter.

"Take my shoes off?" You ask, glancing down.

"Y-yeah," he nods, watching you take your shoes off.

"Sorry, I'm from America. I've never been in a Japanese home before so I wasn't sure," you follow him to the living room.

"Oh don't worry about that."

"Ah hello! You must Y/N. I'm Inko Midoriya," she bows.

"It's nice to meet you," you nod to her.

"Likewise," she smiles with her big, beautiful, green eyes. "Izuku tells me you're the new neighbor. On the other side of the building of course."

"Yeah, I am. Just got here earlier today," you say.

"Well, let's eat! We can chat during or after and I hope you like Udon. There wasn't much of a heads up," Inko chuckles.

"Oh whatever is fine with me. I've never had it before though," you sit at the dining table with Deku. He sets a bowl down in front of you and himself. The food definitely smelled delicious. It looked straight out of one of those food magazines at the doctor's office.

"Um, one question," you pick up the chopsticks. "How does one...," you look the pair up and down, trying to copy Izuku in holding them.

"You don't know how to use chopsticks?" Izuku asks.

"Not really. I just usually use a fork," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Hold it like this," he molds your hand and fits the sticks perfectly. "I'm sure it'll take a few times to get it down."

"Thank you," you smile, trying to lift the noodles with the sticks. They slip right off. Now it was your ultimate mission to get those damned things in your mouth.

With a slightly hunched back, concentration keyed on the noodles, and tongue sticking out slightly of course.

Inko smiles at her son, making him burst into a blushing mess. He puts a hand on his face and turns downwards.

"So Y/N, where are you from?" Inko asks, swirling noodles around in her own bowl.

"America, I've been to Japan a few times. Mostly for work purposes," you say, finally getting a singular noodle. "Ah-ha!" You stuff it in your mouth.

"And what do you do for work?"

"I'm an artist," you swallow the noodle. "This is really good."

"I'm glad you like it!" She smiles and nods.

"W-what kind of, uh, artist?" Izuku asks nervously.

"It's mostly digital art, but I do draw and paint pretty often though."

"That sounds like fun. Maybe you could teach me a few things here and there. I always thought painting would be nice to try sometime," Inko smiles giddily.

"Yeah, I would love to. Any time is fine with me. Just hit me up and we can have some fun with it," you grin and chuckle lightly. "So what do the two of you do around here?"

"Izuku here is a hero actually," Inko kicks him lightly.

"Oh, yeah! So if anything ever happens, you can count on me to help!" He says with a big smile.

"Cool! I bet that's stressful," you stuff your face with more noodles.

"I-it can be at some points. I aim to be the number one hero! Just like All Might!"

You look at his determined face. A smile creeps it's way to your features at the scene. You turn your attention back to the half empty bowl now.

An hour or two later, you finally called it quits. The comfort of alone time and sleep was calling you. Even though your things weren't going to be there for a few days, there are still a few things to do first.

You bid goodnight to Inko. She thanks you for your time and lets you go.

Izuku insists on walking your back to your place. Not like you don't mind either so you let him.

"Thanks again for having me over," you say as you open your door.

"U-uh yeah! Sure thing! It was nice having you over," he blushes and smiles.

"Did I ever give you my number?" You ask, recalling whether you did or not.

"You want my number?!" He jumps back slightly, bursting into red.

"Of course I do," you grab a piece of paper and write your number on it. Something tells you he's just gonna continue being a blushing mess for a while, meaning you're not gonna get it out of him.

"Here's mine. Now I'm gonna go get some sleep. Text me whenever you feel like it, okay?" You pat him on the shoulder and smile. "Goodnight Deku.

"Uh! Yeah! Goodnight Y/N!" He smiles from ear to ear and nods.

You shut the door and look through the peephole. On the other side you can see him looking at the piece of paper, still smiling. He huffs, making that determined face again. Finally he runs back in the direction of his apartment.

You take a deep breath and slide down the door. A blush and a smile softens your features at the thought of his smile.

Let's just say it plagued your thoughts until you fell asleep.

#bnha #anime #mha #deku #midoriya #izuku #my here academia #boko no hero academia

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warnerbro · 7 years

Conversation

i hate you aka morning after

Boo: [So with her final words, Boo's just standing there. He finally mustered the courage to close the door, and turn on his way to meet Cilla. Probably tell her the news, and look at her one last time as she'll probably be out pretty fast. So he treks up the stairs, and pauses at the doorway, as he finds a Cilla almost clothed. He smiles at the gorgeous creature, just smiles. because let's just enjoy this moment rq.]

Cilla: [Cilla's putting on yesterday's clothes, and she's heard nothing, except maybe a knock on the door, and it didn't faze her that it could be anything bad, because, like I said, she's literally forgotten about Donnie's existence right now. So, when Boo came in and smiled, she gave him a bright smile back as she put on her last piece of clothing.] Who was that at the door?

Boo: [He took a step closer, hugged Cilla, as he wasn't ready to answer that question. The last time he called Melissa a nobody, he ended up with a million slaps across his face, so that wasn't an option either. Instead, he hugged her, kissed her forehead, and pulled away, and also turned away. There's silence until he reaches the doorway, he spins and his attitude is obviously shaken, did I not mention that? He nervously knocks at the doorframe, lightly and then spill.] You're sister-in-law, or... future sister-in-law, I suppose. [There's a frown.]

Cilla: [Did she find the need to be concerned over the fact that he didn't answer her question immediately? Honestly, probably not. She's too busy in her blissful state of forgetting everything outside of this house. So, when he pulls her close, she says nothing, but just nuzzles into him. Just a lil bit before he pulls back, ya know. And then his words came, and she was forced to come crashing back into her reality. She had a fiance. -- And what she had done. Her face fell, and her breathing picked up. What had she done?] Melissa??? What- What did she say?

Boo: Oh nothing. Nothing but nice things... Wants to have dinner some time... [he's joking, laughing and joking, because it's completely understandable that Melissa would continue to ruin their lives together, right? he shakes his head and here comes seriousness, and sulking okay.] She said Donnie knows... about... [digress, stares at the floor, bye.]

Cilla: [Now is not the time for jokes, Boo. Cilla is nigh onto hyperventilation. She doesn't appreciate the jokes. But then. Oh, but then, he said what had really been said, and, somehow, her breathing sped up even more. She started pacing around the room, looking for her things.] Oh- Oh my God. I can't...

Boo: Can't...? [so he's going to watch her set herself on fire for a bit, and then finally actually join her, stand by her, and pull on her shoulders to try to control her pacing. her thinking because panic Cilla has never been good Cilla.] Hey. It's going to be alright. Okay?

Cilla: [Hands are on her, and that sets the panicked Cilla off just a bit more, and her hands fly up, trying to shoo Boo off of her, because stop it, she wants to pace.] No it's not! It's not okay. I just--... cheated on my fiance. That's not--...

Boo: [so fine. break away, he lets her. so the flames go up in the air, and Boo starts panicking himself because he hates that word fiance and cheating makes is seem so juvenile, but that wasn't what happened. It wasn't just cheating , right?] It's not what... Cil?

Cilla: [She starts shaking her head, and then dropping her head in her hands, and then probably shaking a little.] I shouldn't have-- I shouldn't have done this. He's gonna be so upset. [she's mostly talking to herself here.]

Boo: [And Boo can't hear this, so he's just gonna leave. He's gonna start walking out the door because gfdi he can not hear this, but before he leaves, he takes one look at her, and surely his pain is dripping with his sad eyes like y r u doing this to me] Yeah, I think you should go.

Cilla: [Guess WHAT, SHE'S PROBABLY GONNA CRY NOW. Like, she's gonna lift her head from her hands, and there's gonna be NICE LITTLE TEARS GLITTERING AROUND IN THERE. And she's so at war with herself right now, she could puke, for real.] Boo... I--.

Boo: No. [hands in the air.] You don't get to do that. [UPSET AS WELL. LEt's say there is a nice big huffy bear exhale and yeah, there's gonna be some of his own tears of which are going to spill, real soon. because heartbreak number 3? 4? fine, let's go.] You can't just... [Yep there goes Boo in an angry mess at the doorway trying to find the right way to yell at Cilla, but there's just a mess of words, instead.] So that's where we are? Shouldn't have happened. [ he nods.]

Cilla: [She's upset, he's upset, what else is new? There's a nice big shaky inhale, because clearly he doesn't get it at all.] Do you not realize how hard this is for me? [Yup, for real crying now.] This was-- amazing, but Boo, he's my fiance, and... he doesn't deserve this.

Boo: Oh. You're fiance. [DeaDPan. A sarcastic low chuckle and a sniffle follows.] Well, what about me, Cil? Do I deserve this? [and even if she's crying, even if he doesn't want to fight with her, he has to because he's goiNG TO FIGHT FOR HER.] Are you just going to ask me to take it all back, too? Shouldn't have happened... never happened.

Cilla: No! That's the thing, you don't either! Neither of you do! [She's sad yelling.] I'm not asking you to do that. It's just... this isn't easy! Just see that! It isn't easy!

Boo: Let me make it easier for you. [so he walks up to her, grabs her tiny hands in his bear hands, and he's probably laying kisses on them, rip.] Can you just think about it, one minute? Think about your life without me. Is it with him, because, if you can honestly say--- if you pick him... [he's gonna let go, because even looking in her eyes, he can't reach her. She's gone. She's too busy thinking of how hard a decision would be, he's sure.] If you leave now--- [he's just gonna digress. bye.]

Cilla: [And no, she can't imagine a life without Boo now. She'd gone this long without him, and everything felt fine then, but now that she's had him back, even for just this short amount of time, losing him all over again would be hell. However...] No matter what I do someone's getting hurt.

Boo: [so now he's fully convinced, tugging at the ends of his hair because time for him to pull his hair out. all over again. He knows--- he walks away, and now he's just a big ball of anger, greif and heartache, because they are back to where they were before they met in the hospital. He's the one who is going to get hurt. He was the one hurting, and it was all too famliar, but he continued on. As if he had a chance, and even if he did, he was determined to win this fight.] So... so what? Someone's going to get hurt. Been there. [Boo shRUG AF] So if you're going to do it. Do it now. Leave, but just know if you leave now, I hate you. [gRiTTING THROUGH HIS TEETH BECAUSE GUESS WHAT HE DOESN"T MEAN IT YIKES BYE.]

Cilla: [She stopped, and at that she just looked at him. She didn't say anything. He'd hate her? Well, that wouldn't be anything new, would it? It still killed her to hear it, but it wouldn't be new. But, no, he didn't get it. She'd made promises, and she made a life, and after everything, she couldn't just pretend like all of that meant nothing to her, because it did. And maybe it didn't feel like it did with him, but it was still something, and she still didn't want him to hurt either. She didn't want either of them to be hurt. But, she couldn't just sit here and let Donnie believe whatever it was he was believing. Because he probably had it all wrong. No. As much as the thought itself pained her, she had to talk to him at least. She had to walk out the door... just for that. She'd had him hate her before-- what would be different now?] I just... I have to talk to him. [She took a few steps, heading towards the door.] I have to. I'm so sorry. I have to.

Boo: [Hands in the air, like fine. ] That's it then?

Cilla: [And guess what? She says nothing, she just shakes her head, because no it's never it, but she walks out the door anyway, off she pops to the Donmeister.]

Boo: [So a completely destroyed and torn apart Boo Warner watches her leave, and he tells himself it will be for the last time. Because it was always, and would only ever be him fighting Cilla for Cilla. So he let's her go. Without so much as a goodbye, he just yells after her.] Will you just stay with me? Please. [but she's out the door off to donnie bye.]

#locked

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