#the microwave in my house is an inch or so above my head

[thatwildnya]

Chapter 3: RIP Crowley's Wallet-

Wild: i was feeling really good about this chapter so have another! Malleus and Sebek have come to stay with MC too now. this one is shorter than the previous two but i promise chapter 4 is longer! also please ignore the catboy

Nya: IM SO PROUD OF MY BABY HES GAINING CONFIDENCE EVERYONE PRAISE HIM

tw: none

chitters: of course we had to figure out a way to include the ramshackle ghostly uncles and grim

Malleus: dragon (who could've guessed?)

Sebek: deinosuchus (prehistoric crocodile that had dinos for lunch)

“That should be everything, if something goes wrong just give us a call.” The man tips his cap as he and his team leave. Now everything was up and running, you no longer had to go over to the neighbors to borrow their outlets to charge your phone or their microwave because you were not going to use the fireplace to heat up a can of soup like your uncle had said you should. Though you would be lying if you said you wouldn’t miss it completely, those three ghostly white neighbors were very sweet old men. They always sent you back home with homemade food and desserts and loved when you stayed a few hours to keep them company. They would talk your ear off about the old days and invite you to play the Mintendo 46.

And the lil gray kitten they had would snuggle with you if you gave him tuna. He could be a little shit but was a sweetheart the majority of the time. Occasionally he’d pop up in your yard for some loving. Jack and Deuce were particularly fond of him, they would play hide and seek or curl up for a nap in the sun.

You had always tried not to stay long, not wanting to leave Lilia and the kids alone for long periods of time, but they just looked so sad whenever you declined. You monster how could you. Usually you ended up giving in. At least they sent a bunch of food home with you each time you stayed, especially after finding out you had four centaurs to care for.

“They’re gone!” you yell as soon the maintenance team drives out of sight.

“No need to shout little one, we’re right here.” Lilia laughs as you jump from his breath on your neck. You glare at him as he floats in the air, Silver asleep in his arms while Deuce and Jack had their arms wrapped around his neck. You still weren’t used to him being so quiet. In his bigger form it was way easier to notice him, the house would creak anytime he moved. Actually you preferred that. Stay big even if the floor breaks.

He dropped down next to you, crouching down so the younger two could drop to the floor safely. Jack and Deuce immediately ran off to explore the house in full. Before you wouldn’t let them explore any further than you had seen, worried they might get into something they shouldn’t. But your uncle had called in a cleaning service, saying he was too kind to let you clean everything by yourself. All you had to do was do a quick snoop to see if there was anything dangerous. 

You called after them to be careful and to not touch anything. A crash answered you. For the love of the skies above did they not know how to be careful?

Before you could go after them, they came sprinting back. Their eyes were big and scared as they jumped into your arms, visibly shaken. What could have frightened them so badly?

“Ah, Malleus is back.” Lilia said with a smile, his ears flicking. “I’ll introduce you, come come!”

~~~~~~

And here you thought Lilia was intimidating.

You had to tilt your neck back at an awkward angle to look at his face. Malleus was another fae centaur, a dragon one. One of the rarest breeds. The horns on his head were inches away from hitting the ceiling at his full height. His bright green eyes gazed down at you, unblinking.

“Malleus, this is the owner of the mansion.” his gaze shifted away from you to Lilia, or more precisely the ID necklace around his neck.

“You let them collar you?” Lilia chuckled, “surprised? They’ve proven worthy of being my master, nothing more nothing less.” Malleus reached out to run a finger over the green ID gem in the center of the choker.

“Are you gonna stay for dinner?” you spoke up, “I’m about to start making it. If you’re staying I’ll need to make more.” thinking about how much this big guy ate made you groan internally, ingredients were running low already.

Malleus turns his gaze back to you, looking surprised.

“... What?” he leans down further, getting close enough for you to see black scales decorating the crown of his head hidden by hair. His hair tickled your face. “Are you not afraid?”

“I was born a magicless human in a world where magic can kill a whole continent of people in a millisecond. The only thing I’m scared of is the little rat man in my head that gives me intrusive thoughts.” you deadpan. The only reason you haven’t acted on those thoughts was your spiteful nature. You run on nothing but spite, caffeine, and like three hours of sleep a day. You don’t fear god, god fears you.

Your answer is so bizarre it redures him speechless. For like, seven seconds. Then he’s laughing. Standing up straight (dear lord you hope he’s done growing Lilia hits his head every so often but he doesn’t have horns that will leave a mark so it's okay), he puts his hands on his hips.

“You intrigue me, human. I shall allow you to collar me as well.”

Seven help you it was going to cost a small fortune to feed him.

“I hope Sebek will also agree to taking you as a master.” wait I’m sorry who now.

An angry hiss was heard from behind your new pet. A crocodile (yes an actual gator he has stubby legs not long ones like Deuce) centaur with green hair poked his head from behind Malleus’ back. He glared at you with bright yellowish green peepers, his scaly tail lashing about angrily. Your uncle was going to hate you. A lot.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #wild's writing #twst centaur au #twst silver #twst lilia #twst deuce #twst jack #twst malleus #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #deuce spade #jack howl #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst drabble #in case it wasn't clear lilia is still by far the biggest in his true form

[egcdeath]

devil’s advocate - 2

pairing: matt murdock x reader

summary: life isn’t all that bad as a former black widow turned hit woman. that is, until you meet a certain pain in the ass vigilante.

and end up needing his help.

word count: 3k

warnings: enemies to lovers, slow burn, canon typical violence, extremely minor character death, bad fight scenes 

author’s note: please excuse the poor action scenes. i tried my best but yknow how it goes. also i’m still working on characterization with matt so please be nice :)

previous chapter / my masterlist / series masterlist

You felt pure exhilaration as you watched the scene play out in front of you. A broken hand, a collapsed rib, a fractured ankle– all different men in just a matter of seconds. Watching the Devil was a bit like watching a really fucked up dance recital (with a criminally attractive protagonist).

A kicked man was sent flying in your direction, hitting his head on the leg of the chair you were sitting in. As much as it was almost painful to watch, it wasn’t really your problem now. Considering that the Devil was now just within reach, you were focused on moving into the next phase of your plan: waiting. 

You’d done enough studying of your target to know that your best bet for completing your mission was letting him exhaust himself with your idiot goons, then let him get you out of the restraints, attacking him when he was least expecting it.

You patiently waited for the five men to be taken out, slowly loosening your restraints, and accessing your pistol and pocket knife while the distracted men beat on each other as if their lives depended on it. You offhandedly wished to yourself that you’d brought some popcorn along with you on this mission. Watching Daredevil fight was much more entertaining than you could’ve ever expected. 

A kick to the stomach and a microwave to the head (where did the microwave even come from?!) later, you’d remembered to put back on the distressed, feeble woman act as the Devil approached you with what almost seemed like hesitation. 

“Oh thank God you’re here,” you murmured out from behind the cloth, “please help me!”

There was a rather pregnant pause. A tension so thick that a knife could cut it. He wordlessly panted above you for a moment while he seemed to analyze you. 

“The knife,” he said between deep breaths.

“What?” you mumbled as your brows furrowed. How could he have known that you were armed without even interacting with you? Your heart rate picked up as you realized that this hit may not be as easy as you initially expected, and that you too may end up with a microwave to the face.

“There’s a knife in a hidden pocket inside your sleeve. And you have an ankle holster. Is there any particular reason why you didn’t help yourself when you clearly could?”

Great. No one had bothered to inform you that Daredevil had X-Ray vision, and now you were almost certainly fucked. You had to act quickly if you wanted to get the job done, or at least not end up in a coma. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you countered defensively. “These men, they just showed up at my house and they put a bag over my head and tied me up, then they- they took me to this place and they were just yelling so much and threatening me and my family…” you trailed off your rambing once the vigilante seemed distracted enough by your story and hoisted yourself up, chair still attached to your body, before flinging your whole self–chair included–at him.

You both fell to the floor with groans, with you just mere inches apart from your battered opponent. Before you could even catch a breath, the Devil was reaching for the semi-intact leg of the chair to hit you with. You scrambled to get the knife out of your sewn in pocket as you used your leg to push you away from the man. 

Clearly too distracted from trying to get your trusty knife, you were hit in the head with the leg, then disarmed in one fluid movement. How did someone even manage that kind of thing? You yelped out involuntarily at the mild head trauma, and shook out your now bleeding wrist. The knife must’ve swiped you on its way out. Now less concerned, and much more pissed, you growled out an uncouth, “you fuckin’ dick!”

The Devil was standing now, but not for long. You went straight for his knees, knocking him over with a half-assed tackle, and taking advantage of his now slightly dazed state to get on top of him, straddling his chest and punching him square in the nose, giving you a satisfactory crack.

You really hoped you broke his nose. If nothing else, how many people could say they had the pleasure of breaking thee Daredevil’s nose? In the midst of your self-congratulatory stupor, he had managed to roll you both over, getting on top of you and finding that damn chair leg once again.

Now you were being choked out by a chair leg, gasping on air as the Devil towered over you.

“Who are you?” he asked, chair leg pressed uncomfortably against your neck as blood from his nose dripped onto your face. You attempted to reach for your kicked away knife to no avail, and settled on slapping him across the face with as much force as a strangled woman could manage. His grip against you faltered just enough for you to free yourself as he reeled from the slap, and you took that as your chance to slide away from him.

“Does it really matter who I am?” you countered, pulling your knee to your chest so that you could slip your gun out from its position on your ankle.

“Kind of. It’s just that you went through all this trouble to kill me. So it’d be great to know why.” Before you were even fully aware your gun was in your hand, it had been kicked out from your grasp. Just peachy. You were going to be doing this the old fashioned way.

“Funny guy,” you murmured to yourself as you got yourself back onto your feet.“I wonder if anyone else knows that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is a comedian.”

Your opponent let out a humorless chuckle at your under the breath comment, almost as if he was mocking you. Now you both stood across from each other and began to exchange a number of punches and kicks. 

The longer it went on, the less great things were looking for you. You had been cornered against a wall as you endlessly exchanged punches, and exhaustion was beginning to seep in. You both were becoming sloppier and sloppier by the minute, and you were about 80% sure that you had been mildly concussed by that chair leg earlier.

Something in the corner of your eye moved, and the loud scuttling of a goon trying to escape seemed to catch both of your attention.

Now, you were no quitter. But you did have work in the morning. So you took his distraction as an easy out, kicking his ankle in a weak point, and sprinting for the open door. And somehow, in some miracle, the Devil hadn’t chased after you. 

You limped the rest of the way home that night, your pride somehow more wounded than your body. You flopped into bed and screamed into your pillow, hoping that would offer you some sort of catharsis. It didn’t.

You didn’t bother with coming into work the next day. The Bulletin could function fine without you, and you needed to devote your time to things that really mattered. Specifically, devising the perfect plan to take down your new mortal enemy.

You had quickly become obsessed with this mission and trying to accomplish it, leading to several late nights, consuming more caffeine in a week than what should be consumed in a lifetime, and a trail of several paper balls leading to your trash can. Now, it was just a matter of putting them into action.

The first plan you devised was much easier than your previous one. You’d been staking out a few gang hotspots in town under the guise of working on a story, stolen some idiot's phone, and had learned of a plan for an actual crime— one that Daredevil certainly could not stay away from. 

On the night of the crime, you made your way to a pub not too far from the location, and patiently waited for the scene to begin. It wasn’t long before you heard a dramatic scuffle outside of the establishment, alerting you that your target had appeared. You left the bar in a hurry and began strolling casually down the street, right where the fight was taking place. 

You kept up the cavalier act until you were right in ambush distance, where you sprinted towards your target, wrapped your thighs around him in a spin and took him down to the damp ground. 

“Hey D,” you began in a smug tone, “so good to see you again.”

He elbowed you in the face, “is it really? With the way you went running last time, I figured you’d never wanna see me again.”

“’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” you murmured, reaching into your pocket to grab a knife. You doubt that you were even able to scratch him with it before it was clattering against the cement. 

“Seriously, who are you? Who sent you?” he questioned, now pinning you to the ground by your wrists. 

“I’m an independent contractor,” you explained. “But my client isn’t the only one who wants you dead,” you managed to kick him in his crotch while he crouched over you, and evaded his grasp. 

You had a shit-eating grin when you stood up, satisfied with at least winding him. It’s what he deserved for bruising your ego like that earlier. Seeing as your weapons were gone, and the odds of you actually clipping him that night were slim, you decided to take the high road out, and give yourself the last word. 

“I would love to stay and chat, but your real criminals are gonna be up for round two any time now. Don’t worry, we’ll meet each other again. Consider this my parting gift. Well, maybe it’s more of a warning than a gift.”

The next time you’d reunited, it was completely unplanned. You had been getting ready to go out and meet Karen and her friend at some bar she’d been begging you to come to, when you’d heard some commotion down the block. You sent Karen a brief apology text and explained that something came up, before changing into your suit in order to pay your friend a little visit.

You immediately announced yourself as you walked onto the scene, loud and unwavering as the Devil had just finished beating some person into a pulp. 

“You know, this was just a hit. But it’s personal now. You got blood all over a perfectly good shirt, you probably concussed me, and you act like this whole thing is some kind of joke. So I’m really gonna enjoy watching the life drain out of those stupid fucking mystery eyes.” You’d snarled, shoving him against the dumpster of the local establishment you were standing behind. 

You were going for blood now. It was more than the concussion and the bruises painted across your stomach now, it was about your pride. You’d spent way too much damn time on this hit, and you refused to be bested by some random street fighter. Your frustration was clear in your urgent, but calculated fighting style. You were going all out, digging out every last trick you had been taught in the Red Room, going for every single low blow you possibly could have imagined. 

Though, it was a mistake to put so much effort in for so long. After giving your all for almost ten painful minutes (that felt like a lifetime), you were completely out of it, and you assumed that your target might have been too.

Until he kicked you through a fucking door. 

How it was possible, you weren’t quite sure. But you screamed out as you thrashed on the ground, in an unfathomable amount of pain. You’d be fine… probably. You tended to heal much faster due to the serum you’d been given in the Red Room, but God, did it hurt. In fact, tears welled up in your eyes as you sat on that cold, linoleum floor, feeling a plethora of unpleasant emotions. 

You reached up to touch the base of your scalp, which was now damp with what clearly was your own blood. At the sight of which, you resisted the urge to shed more tears. 

“Are you… are you okay?” you heard from a voice timidly approaching you. 

“What does it matter to you?” you groggily responded as your head swam. 

“Can I do something to help?”

“You can fuck off and call me a cab,” you gritted out. 

“Okay…” he responded, guilt present in his voice, “Okay.”

That encounter haunted you for the weeks following it. Why had he cared so much about what he’d done to you when he’d done much worse to other people without a second thought? More importantly, how were you ever going to face him again after such an embarrassing moment? Let alone kill him? 

Questions like that kept you up at night, flipping back and forth in a bed that was doing nothing for your aching back. You were completely humiliated by someone who wasn’t even trying to embarrass you. You were humiliated by yourself. 

In the time you spent not seeking out the Devil, you spent in a productive, but violent manner. You had to prove to yourself that you still could do it. That you weren’t past your prime, and that getting thrown through a door wasn’t the end of your career. You’d been through far worse in the past, and if a measly door and masked ninja could stop you, what did that say about you now? 

One night had been particularly brutal for you, so much so that you’d unknowingly summoned your ‘friend’ to come save the day after pummeling a random target. 

You swore you saw red when you saw him in his stupid black pajamas and stupid little blindfold. When you noticed him coming, you quickly pulled the trigger on your target, then turned to face the man who had broken something in you. 

“You’re too late,” you half heartedly goaded, “I already took care of him.”

You aimed the weapon directly at the Devil, right where you knew it would be both lethal and extraordinarily painful. Your finger hovered over the trigger, but your hand started to tremble. It almost seemed like something was stopping you, an experience you’d never had the displeasure of having before. Maybe you were in much worse shape than you could have ever imagined. 

Either way, you couldn’t gather yourself to kill him. You tried thinking about the money, your pride, about the rewards and benefits of taking him out for good. But you also couldn’t help but think about the kinds of people he did put away. Violent gangs and human traffickers… the kind of people you had been victim to at one point of your life. You saw the faces of young girls who would fall victim to the men that he took off the streets if you did what you needed to do… and you just couldn’t bring yourself to it. 

You didn’t protest when he—like clockwork—disarmed you, taking advantage of your hesitation to knock you to the ground, a knee pressed right into your chest. 

There was a certain type of anger in his demeanor that you hadn’t quite seen before. If you had to guess, it probably had something to do with the lifeless body you had produced that was now just sitting a few feet away from the two of you. 

“Why would you…” he was breathless as he leaned over your face. 

“Don’t be mad at me, I was just doing what you do. But more efficiently,” you said in a monotone voice, feeling unsettled by your inability to kill your most important target just moments before. 

“Why didn’t you shoot me?” he followed up as you coughed from the growing pressure on your chest. You might’ve been imagining it, but he seemed to ease his knee up a bit after you left it out. The random compassion he had been showing you was really giving you whiplash. 

“Used my last bullet on that asshole,” you lied with ease. 

“Yeah,” he said in a deadpan tone, almost like he didn’t believe you. 

“I regret not using it on you,” you continue.

“You wanna tell me who you are now? And who you’re working for?”

You were grateful for the subject change, as you weren’t exactly sure how much longer you’d be able to uphold the facade of indifference.

“I’ve already told you, I’m a private contractor,” you murmured. “Can you get your knee off me so we can have a conversation? Like adults?”

“You’ll run away again,” he said in a matter of faculty tone.

“Fuck off,” you whined. “If you don’t get off me, we’re done talking. Keep in mind that I did you a fucking favor tonight. You should be laying on the pavement without a pulse like that dickhead over there.”

“Shh,” he suddenly hushed you. “The police. They’re only a few blocks away. You need to leave.”

“Why are you…“

“There’s something you’re not telling me. And you’re going to tell me what you’re hiding, but we don’t have enough time tonight.”

You weren’t going to pretend like that hushed, yet authoritative tone didn’t do anything for you. He removed his knee from your chest, and you inhaled deeply, relieved to be able to breathe without any hindrances. 

“Go. Now. And hurry,” he dismissed you, and you did not have to be told twice. You needed some time to be alone, and process everything that had gone down within the past few weeks. To say you were conflicted was a major understatement.

You weren’t exactly sure what changed that night, but you were sure that something inside of you broke. You were officially broken, and it was all the Devil’s fault. 

next chapter

#daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfic #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you

[dccomicsimagines]

Enough is Enough - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon -  Can you do a Jason Todd x Reader imagine where they both have strong feelings for each other and the reader gets tired of waiting for Jason and decides to make the first move and tell him how they feel? Thank you!

Requested by Anon - A christmas with Jason Todd!

Author’s Note - I put these two requests together. Hope you don’t mind!

***

“What the hell was that?!” Red Hood stormed toward you. Your first instinct was to back up, but you held your ground. 

“I was saving that cop’s life.” You crossed your arms, hiding the shaking of your hands. He stopped in front of you. You studied his face. He had ditched the full helmet to go with a hood and a domino mask. You took a moment to appreciate his jawline, almost forgetting he was yelling at you. 

“A bad cop!” Red Hood threw his hands up in the air. “Gotham would stink just a little less with him off the beat.” 

You shook your head, ignoring the tingling in your abdomen. He took a step toward you. You backed up until you bumped into the wall. He leaned closer only inches away from your face. You licked your lips, wondering what he would taste like. “He has a family. I couldn’t let his family lose him on Christmas Eve.” 

Red Hood deflated, staying where he was. “You’re a bleeding heart, you know? It will bite you in the ass someday.” 

“Maybe.” You sighed, closing the gap between you to the point where you felt his breath on your lips. His eyes widened through the lenses of his mask.

“Well, I better get going.” He jerked away from you, giving you his back. 

Your heart sank. You should have kissed him if he wasn’t going to kiss you. “What? You have somewhere to be for Christmas Day?” You smiled, pretending you weren’t ready to cry in frustration. 

He snorted, shaking his head. “No, I’m going to sleep then wake up to patrol.” He glanced back at you. You saw the tension in his shoulders, his hands shook. Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him? Why didn’t he do it then? 

You frowned. “You’re going to be alone?” 

“I’m always alone.” He ran off, jumping off the roof and grappling away to end the conversation. 

“Must have hit a sore spot,” you mumbled to yourself. You kicked a rock off the roof. “We’re always dancing around each other. I want you and I know you want me.” You turned to look out at the city lights of Gotham, brighter due to all the Christmas decorations. A smirk pulled at your lips. You might just have to take matters into your own hands. 

***

Jason groaned, reaching his hand over to touch the pillow next to him. It was cold and empty. His heart sank. He had a lovely dream where he had kissed you on the rooftop and brought you home. Cold reality washed over him, remembering he had chickened out and he was alone like always.

He opened his eyes to stare at the empty side of the bed. You were so beautiful in his dream. Shaking his head, he sat up. “I’d just hurt them anyway,” he mumbled to himself. He got out of bed before freezing when noise came from his kitchen followed by the smell of delicious food. 

“Son of a bitch.” Jason grabbed his gun, slipping out of his bedroom in only his boxers. He headed to the kitchen, ready to kill whichever Batfamily member invaded his safehouse. They didn’t invite him to the manor. How dare they come here?

Turning into his small kitchen with gun raised, he snarled. “Get the hell out of my house...”

You turned away from his oven, eyes widening at the sight of his gun. Jason lowered his gun, heart skipping a beat. Did he bring you home? How were you here? “It’s just me, Hood.” You gave him a shaky smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Wh...What?” Jason set his gun on the counter, rubbing his eyes. “Am I still asleep?” 

Your laugh made his skin tingle. Goosebumps ran up and down his arms. “No, unless you’re sleepwalking. Which if you are, I should be concerned that you carry your gun around.” You came over and clicked the safety on his gun. Jason took a deep breath, throat catching at the scent of the lotion you used.

“Why are you here?” Jason crossed his arms, pretending he wasn’t melting inside. You were wearing a Christmas sweater, cheesy but sexy at the same time. Only you could pull off such a thing. Jason didn’t understand it.

“You said you would be alone, so I thought I’d come over and make you dinner.” Your eyes lingered on his bare chest. He tightened his arms, suddenly self-conscious of his scars. However, he recognized the glow of lust in your eyes. He swallowed hard. Did you like him? You weren’t here over pity?

Jason cleared his throat. “Thanks, I guess.” 

Suddenly, you blushed and looked away. “I got you something too.” You turned to dig into one of the many bags on the table. “Here.” You pulled out a red wool Christmas sweater and handed it to him. 

“Do you honestly think I’ll wear that?” Jason bit his lip to keep from smiling. 

“I mean I’m wearing mine.” A smirk pulled at your lips, putting your hands on your hips. “Now why don’t you go do what you need to do, and I’ll have breakfast for you.”

“You made breakfast too?” Jason blinked, shocked by your kindness. He wanted to kiss you so bad, he thought his heart might stop. 

You patted his arm. “Yeah, dinner’s going to be awhile. I haven’t even started on the chicken.” Jason’s arms jolted at your touch. His hands gripped at the sweater. It would be so easy to kiss you right now, to take you back to his bed and make his dream a reality. You didn’t seem to notice. “I made some muffins and I can whip up some eggs and ham too.” 

Jason’s mouth watered. “Sounds good.” He turned away, hurrying to his bedroom before he made a mistake with you. You hummed in the kitchen. Jason’s crappy apartment suddenly felt more like a home. He shook his head in disbelief.

***

Jason sat at the table, eating the eggs, ham, and muffins you made him. You moved around the kitchen to slide a sheet of cookies into the oven before going back to chopping vegetables. Part of you wondered if you were being too ambitious, but you found you liked the idea of cooking for the sexy piece of man sitting behind you. An image of his bare chest flashed before your eyes. Oh, and his eyes. You almost cut your finger.

“I didn’t know you were such a cook.” His voice made your blush. You added the vegetables to the broth on the stove. 

A snort escaped you. “My family cooked a lot, so I learned.” You turned to meet his eye. His gaze was so intense, your knees shook. “How did you like everything so far?” You turned to wash dishes. Don’t look at him again. You can’t kiss him yet, not when you have so much to do. 

“Best food I’ve had in a while.” His chair creaked. He must have leaned back. “You probably seen how my diet is.” 

“Fast food and microwave meals.”  You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the dishes. “I don’t how you have so much muscle when that’s what you eat.” 

He choked. You sneaked a peek at him, almost laughing at the blush on his face. “Well, it’s not like I have time to cook.” He got to his feet. The floor creaked as he approached. You tensed, hearing his dishes coming to rest beside the sink. “Can I help you with anything?” 

You smiled playfully. “Dishes.” You turned only to find his face inches from yours. Time stopped. He took a sharp breath. His eyes looked straight into yours. They were so pretty, shining. “Wash the dishes, I mean if you could?”

“Yeah, I could.” He blinked. You backed away, bumping into the counter and spinning to go to the refrigerator. Your body was a pile of nerves. “I wanted to make some peanut butter blossoms to go with the snowball cookies.” 

Jason cleared his throat. Dishes clanked in the sink. “How did you get all this food anyway? You couldn’t have always planned to break into my house.” 

“No, but I have my ways.” You moved to the mixer you brought and started to the batter. Pursing your lips, you vowed not the mention how many favors you had to call to get all these ingredients, plus his red Christmas sweater in time. You sneaked a peek at him. The sweater looked great on him, highlighting every muscle in his arms. You only hoped you would get to rip it off him later.

***

The chicken smelled good enough to make Jason’s stomach rumble. He smiled as he watched you set up a small Christmas tree in the corner of his living room. The fact you got all this stuff into his apartment without waking him up made him wonder if you had superpowers. Of course, you probably did. The wonderful person that you were.

Jason wanted you more than ever. He told himself to kiss you, hold you, but he couldn’t do it. Could he let someone be that close to him? He would hurt you probably. A sigh escaped him. He closed his eyes.

“Look at this.” Suddenly, your scent tickled his nose. He opened his eyes to find you right in front of him with your arm above his head. You smirked. He glanced up to find you were holding mistletoe. “Ooo, what luck?” 

Jason choked. “Are you serious?” He looked back at you, licking his lips self-consciously. 

You glanced away shyly. “Yeah, I am.” You looked back at him, passion in your eyes. Jason shivered. His arms wrapped around your waist. “We’ve been dancing around each other for so long. I decided it was time for one of us to make a move. Finding out you’d be alone on Christmas seemed the right time.” You pressed your chest against his. “What do you think, Hood? I mean we’re under mistletoe. It’s tradition and the chicken won’t be done for another hour.” 

A smirk pulled at Jason’s lips. His body responded to you. He chuckled and sealed his lips to yours. You tasted just like he dreamed. His arms tightened around you, lifting you against him as he backed you toward his bedroom. You laughed, keeping the mistletoe in your hand as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

***

“This is probably the best Christmas I’ve had,” Jason chuckled, taking a big bite of his chicken leg. He was lounging naked on his bed, eating with only the sheet covering him. 

You smiled. Your plate of warm food rested in your hand as you sat cross-legged beside him. Jason’s red Christmas sweater was your only piece of clothing. “I’m glad. I’d say this is probably one of the best I’ve had too.” You winked at him. 

“I dreamed about you last night.” Jason focused on his plate as he shoveled the food down. “I brought you home and did what we just did, but this is so much better than that.” 

You blushed at the idea he dreamed about you. “So I made your dream come true, huh?” 

Jason looked at you, fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “Yeah, you did.” He smiled at you. “I don’t suppose you would want to spend the night? Give me time to thank you for this Christmas dinner.” 

“I don’t have plans.” You winked at him again. Of course, he would find out in the morning that you had brought an overnight bag with you just in case this worked out like you hoped. “I would like to see what you could get me for Christmas.” 

His smirk sent a shiver down your spine. He set his plate aside before taking yours. Once the plates were away, his lips slammed into yours. You laughed, toppling over with Jason landing on top of you. It was a Merry Christmas after all.

***

Unknown to the two of you, someone watched from across the street. “Master Bruce, have you gotten the nerve to ask him to join us yet?” Alfred asked through the comlink. Bruce, dressed as Batman, sighed and set down his binoculars once he saw Jason’s naked butt. 

“He’s with that new vigilante. The one he cares about.” Bruce turned away, dropping down to the waiting batmobile. “He’s not alone on Christmas. I won’t interrupt him now.” 

Alfred huffed. “At the very least. You should have invited him to the manor like I told you to.” 

Bruce stepped on the gas. The batmobile soared down the street. “He’s happy. I’m not going to interrupt his happiness.” Alfred hummed before dropping out of the call. Bruce sighed, smiling with slight relief. At least Jason had someone since Bruce failed him once again.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #christmas

[chocolatecakecas]

Baby Blues

Through the Dark: Season 13 Destiel Fic Part 9

Part 1     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7  Part 8 Part 10

or read on ao3

Dean aggressively jerks the car into park, and rips the keys out of the ignition, sending a silent apology to Baby.

Friggin Sam and his friggin brilliant ideas.

Beside him, Cas wordlessly slides out of the passenger seat, slamming the door as he goes.

Rage radiated off Dean as he watched him disappear through the door. He gripped the wheel tighter, squeezing his eyes shut.

This is all Sam's fault. It was his idea for them to go on this damn hunt in the first place.

He insisted, since Dean had barely left the house since Jack, and he hadn't been a hunt since that giant ass vamp nest. Insisted that some "alone time would do them good". So he promised to take care of Jack, and practically shoved them out the door.

Yeah, and some good it did them. They hadn't even spoken since their little screaming match, sitting the entire ride in silence.

And none of this would have even happened if Cas had jus-

Dean groaned, banging his hands against the wheel.

Who the hell did Cas think he was slamming Baby's door, thinking he's the one who’s allowed to be mad? After the stunt he just pulled?

Nope, that's it. They're talking, now.

(read the rest under the cut)

And with that, Dean was out of the car, stomping after Cas.

Dean shouts as soon as he spots him in the hall, and Cas doesn't even acknowledge that he heard.

Wow real mature, Dean thinks to himself. So stalks after him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean questions grabbing his shoulder to spin him around.

"Going to find my child who I haven't seen in three days" Cas replies dripping with sarcasm.

He turned to leave, but Dean quickly pulled him back. Cas' levels him with an unimpressed look.

"Hey we aren't done with thi-"

"Oh I think we are" Cas scoffs bitterly, as he pushes out of Dean's grasp.

While he continued down the hall, Dean paused for a moment in an attempt to calm himself. With a sigh he tipped his head back, groaning when he noticed one of the bulbs above him flickering. Great, now he's gotta fix that.

Spotting the broken bulb did nothing to diminish the fire burning inside him, in fact, it only fueled it. So he quickly took off after Cas' retreating form.

"You pulled that stupid move Cas, we're talking about it. It was completely reckless, what the hell were y-"

"Reckless? You want to lecture me about reckless? After all of the insane things you've done over the ye-" Cas starts bitterly, not slowing his pace.

"-We aren't talking about the dumb shit I've done, we're talking about you, right here, right now. You could hav-"

"I had it under contro-"

"Really? So almost getting sliced in half i-"

"Don't be dramatic I was not going to ge-"

"Cas, that shifter was gon-"

"Dean, may I remind you that I am an angel. I was not go-"

"Oh you're an angel? Wow, not like that hasn't stopped anything from almost killing you befo-"

"Dean, the shifter is dead. I'm perfectly fine, I had it handle-"

"Yeah, having an angel blade almost shoved into your throat is handled" Dean grumbled.

Cas finally stopped walking. They somehow ended up by the stairs.

Dean stood, arms across his chest, as anger rolled off him in waves. While he waited for Cas' inevitable sarcastic retort, his gaze traveled to the overhead lights, watching them flicker.

Great it's probably the entire grid, not just one bulb. Crappy old wiring. Well, it could be worse, at least it can't be a ghost, now way ones getting in here anyway.

With a huff he fixed his eyes back on Cas. And something twisted low in Dean's stomach when Cas sighed, clearly exasperated.

The sound ignited the flames within him once more.

Does Cas even understand? Does he even realize? Does he even ca-

"Dean-" Cas began, through clenched teeth.

The flames burned, spreading like wildfire. Dean saw red.

And Dean was off, pacing wildly, voice rising.

"Ya know what? Angel or no angel it, doesn't matter Cas. The move you pulled was completely stupid. I told you to wait for me, and you didn't listen. No, you went in with some half cocked plan and the thing jumped you an-"

"Dean, I was perfectly fine. They surprised me, but I-"Cas attempted to cut him off, but he wasn't having it.

"We had a plan and you didn't stick to it. It would have worked i-"

"Dean, the things we do, rarely go according to plan. And we both know it wouldn't have worked, we were running out of time an-"

Dean groaned, angrily pulling at his hair. His heart racing in his chest.

Neither of them took notice of the lights above them as their anger bubbled over.

"Then we come up with a new plan, you don't run in there with some half assed idea. But no, you had to be reckless and stupid and risk y-" Dean yelled.

At that Cas spun around, fists clenched at his sides.

"Dean I was perfectly safe, yes it caught me momentarily off guard, yes I could have waited, but we we running out of time. It was the only option and I-"

"Cas you just can't risk yourself just because you thought it was the only optio-"

"Dean that's what we always do" Cas accused taking a step forward.

Dean's heart pounded against his chest.

"That move was stupid, even for u-"

"We've been in far more dire situations. We've all made dangerous choices, fleeting decisions in order to save people" Cas continued, voice rising as he inched closer.

Dean suddenly found it difficult to breathe, mind racing as his anger buzzed through him.

"Yeah that's the job Cas, but you just don't go sacrificing yourself for gods sake" Dean yelled matching his volume as the lights flashed undetected.

In the pause, Dean thought he might have heard a distant sound, but Cas let out a bitter laugh, recapturing his attention.

"Oh you're one to talk. More often than not, a hunt comes down to making a risky choice. More often than not, it's about putting yourself in harms wa-" Cas was closing in now, blue eyes pinning Dean in place.

Dean drowning in pure desperation and rage, trying to get Cas to hear him. They blinded him to reality, his mind only telling him to scream back at Cas, offering no further instruction. Logic had been thrown out the window.

"What, now you're using our bad decisions to justify acting like a dumbass? What good did all that shit do u-"

"Dean, if I hadn't done it, I'm quite sure you would have made the same move a second late-".

"Like hell I woul-"Dean shouted, echoing off the walls as his hands began to shake.

"We both know you would have. You taught me to get the job done, find a different way, no matter the cost, we always find a way. That's exactly what I did, what I've always done, what we've always done. So Dean, I don't understand why this time is any diffe-"

"Because I can’t lose you again!" Dean screamed, voice breaking.

And with a bang the room went black.

They stilled, eyes meeting in the dark. Sparks floated down from the bulbs above, serving as the only light.

Dean quickly tried to regain a sense of his surroundings, going numb when he realized he heard cry-Jack.

The sound he hea-

Guilt like Dean has never felt before quickly overtook him, as he sprinted down the steps into the war room, heart pounding. They followed the sound in the dark.

The kid was crying, and they were both too wrapped up in their stupid fucking fight to even hear.

The backup generators kicked on as he reached the the pack n play, Cas beating him with his angel "night vision. "

Cas hurriedly scooped up Jack, who quickly stopped crying upon seeing their faces.

"Da! Dee!" Jack bounced in Cas' arms, his tear stained cheeks being the only indicator he was just wailing his head off. Then he was babbling away, smile on his face, as Cas pressed his palm to his forehead, checking if something was wrong. Dean hovered close, trying to look for any physical issues, when Cas sighed in relief dropping his hand.

But, upon seeing his kid safe, Dean's mind clicked back into action.

Jack crying alon-Sam-where's Sam-the lights-why di-

"-wow Jack great job stopping their little domestic display" Sam laughed as he emerged from the kitchen.

Okay what the hell is going on.

"Wha-"

"Jack blew the lights. When his emotions become unstable, his powers begin to tap into other power sources. Hence the lights bursting. That's what we learned this weekend, right bud? Already happened twice so far, oh, we need a new microwave by the way" Sam shrugged nonchalantly as he smoothed Jack's hair.

"You left Ja-"

"Wait, you were in the kitchen, you left Jack alone in here, heard him crying and you didn't go ge-"

Cas started, only to be cut off by Dean's panic.

"Okay okay mister moms, first of all, I was two feet away in the kitchen. I did run in here to get Jack, but I saw you two in here having it out, and didn't want to interrupt. So I figured one of you would grab him, or Jack would shut you guys up on his own. I guess you weren't giving him the attention he expected when he spotted you two, so Jack took matters into his own hands" Sam laughed with a shrug.

Dean's head was spinning. But he knew Jack was safe, had another angel power thing to deal with, but safe. And Sam was safe, a pain in the ass, but safe. And Ca-

His eyes slowly trailed over to him, watching realization dawn on his face, remembering that they were just in the middle of a fight.

Their was a shift in the room, and Dean's stomach twisted as he realized what he had said, what he scr-

"-aaaaaaand I think that's our cue bud. So you guys finish your fight, then Dean can fix the lights of course, and then you can see your kid" Sam smiled as he quickly plucked Jack from Cas' arms, ignoring his protests.

Dean watched them disappear down the hall, as the flames died, taking the fight in him, with them. He slumped in on himself, finally giving in to his exhaustion. All that remained was fear, which quickly let consume him.

They stood in silence for a moment, setting Dean's mind in motion again.

God what the hell was he doing? Why did he have to get so damn angry, why can't he just ta-

"Dean I-"Cas whispered

He dared a glance at Cas who was studying him, eyes full of remorse. But whatever look was on Dean's face, immediately shut him up.

Fuck

Dean tried to gain control of his ragged breathing, searching for the words.

He took a shuttering breath.

"Cas, listen I- I just got you back. And of course losing you wa-was always hard, but last time...."Dean trailed off, voice raw.

Dean's mind flew back to the flames, he could feel the sting of the cold night air, smell the smoke, hear Jack wailing against his chest.

"I-I can't go through that again Cas. And now there's Jack too, and I-it was jus-it'll kil-I can't handle it, not again. Please, I can't plea-" Dean pleaded desperately.

And then suddenly Cas' arms wrapped around him, forehead pressed against it shoulder as Cas supported his dead weight.

Dean gripped at Cas' jacket as a sob racked through him. And Cas just squeezed him tightly, murmuring something Dean couldn't make out.

It was as if everything came crashing down at once. The three months he spend refusing to process Cas' death, the terror of raising Jack, the joy and confusion of Cas coming back, the fear and fragility of their new....well Dean didn't even really know what they were. But he knew he loved it, wanted it. All of it, the past nine months bearing down all at once.

He can't will it away. He can't force it back down and burry it deep within his stomach. He can't stop it. Can't control it.

Dean had finally broke.

Another sob forced it's way past his lips, and Cas squeezed him tighter, resting his chin on Dean's head.

God how completely pathetic he must look right now.

He's this messed up over some dumb routine hunt? Cas was right, they had obviously dealt with far worse, this hunt was nothing. And between the two of them they had each made more dangerous choices, than the one Cas made last night.

But when he saw Cas laying on that floor-

He can't lose him. He can't. Not now. Not after everything.

With a sniff, Dean forced himself to pull back, but Cas kept his hands on Dean's shoulder's holding him up just in case.

Dean pointedly kept his eyes trained on the floor, mind racing.

God he was pathetic.

Cas deserves better than this. Better than him.

He doesn't deserve to deal with Dean and all of his shit, he shouldn't have to. He and Jack both do. They deserve to have a home, and someone they can rely on, someone who can keep their crap together when it counts. Not someone who will fall apart and sob on their friggin shoulder.

Cas deserves someone better, some less broken.

Because Dean is broken, and he can't be fixed. He's just beyond repair an-

"-Dean" Cas' voice cuts through his thoughts.

Cas gently, tilted Dean's chin up, forcing him to look at him.

Dean sees nothing but guilt and sorrow swimming behind those wide blue eyes, and his heart clenches at the sight.

This is all Dean's fault if he hadn-

"Dean, I'm sorry. You're right, I don't know what I was thinking, it was a reckless move. I could have waited, we could have come up with something el-" Cas began softly.

And that seemed to snap Dean back to reality.

"Cas no-you did-you didn't do anything we normally wouldn't do-"Dean began finding his voice.

Cas shook his head, frown deepening and Dean's heart squeezed again.

Great now Cas is blaming himself for the entire thing, another thing Dean's fucked up.

"Cas look, I freaked out okay. It was a stupid move, I ain't denying that, but it wasn't like it was out of the ordinary-" Dean paused taking a shaky breath.

"But as soon as I-when I saw that bloo-you're blood. And that damn thing was hovering over you with the blad-and they had it in your-I thought I was too late, and that you wer-"Dean stops, words catching in his throat.

He feels the tears begin to prick in his eyes again, and Cas quickly swiped them away with his thumb.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, letting out a bitter laugh

"I'm sorry, crying over so damn hunt. God I'm pathetic, yo-.Cas, you deserve better than this. I'm just some broken nobody wh-"

Cas' breath hitched and an unreadable expression crossed his face.

Something new dropped deep in the pit of Dean's stomach.

Dean was right. Cas doesn't want him anymore, not after he lost it over some stupid hunt-oh who is he kidding. This isn't about the hunt, this is about Dean. About now that Cas has truly seen how fucked up, how much of a burden, how pathetic he is, he doesn't want him anymo-

Cas gently cupped the sides of Dean's face, forcing him to meet his gaze again.

"Dean, you are allowed to feel, allowed to get angry and scream. And you're allowed to reach your breaking point, and you're allowed to cry and want and need. These things do not make you pathetic, they make you human, they make you, you".

Dean's heart pounds in his chest, while he tries to look anywhere but Cas' eyes. It's too much, he doesn't des-

"So do not ever think for a second that I deserve better than you, because I believe I'm the one who is undeserving. You're a man who does everything out of love, who taught me how to love. And you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders out of the stubbornness and love within your heart. Which only makes you even more worthy of receiving love."

Dean felt his breath stall in his lungs,

"And I'm sorry if I haven't been clear this past month, but I love you Dean. I want you, you are all I have wanted for years. And I want this, here, with you and Jack, for as long as you'll have me. And I want all of you, everything, that makes you who you are. Because you are not some perfect machine in need of repairs, you are not broken Dean Winchester" Cas finished softly as tears rolled down his cheeks.

The fear raging within him had stilled, was replaced by a sense of love he had never felt before, which seemed to be the norm when it came to loving Cas. He always found new ways to make Dean's brain short circuit and this was no exception.

Cas wants-

Dean felt the air leave his lungs as he was struck with a realization, Cas' words sinking in.

Cas loved Dean, and he wanted to be with Dean, for as long as he'll have him. For forever, mayb-but one step at a time.

So slowly, with trembling fingers, he wiped away Cas' tears.

And as he looked into those familiar blue eyes, he made a choice. Because this was Cas. And he deserved more. So Dean was going to give him more.

So he takes a deep breath.

"Cas, I-I'm not the best at this kinda stuff, but I'm gonna try okay? Because you deserve to hear it. Because you deserve everything, love and happiness-whatever the hell you want. And if what you actually want is me, then you have me. Because you're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me, and I just can't believe that you want-but I-I want to believ-I want to believe that those things you said about me are true, that I'm worthy of love and deserve to want and all that. Because I love you, and I want to be with you as long as you'll have me. So if what you sai-what you see in me, is true. Then we would both get what we want, and I think after everything, we deserve it" Dean finished, voice shaking.

And the next thing Dean knew, Cas' lips were on his, hands cupping his face. Dean quickly wrapped his arms around his waist, deepening the kiss, as they exchanged whispered I love you's.

Eventually they pulled back foreheads resting together, breathing ragged. Then Cas caught his eyes, giving him a soft smile. A smile that said I'm sorry and I'm proud of you, that expressed everything Dean needed to hear, that Cas understood. Dean found himself easily grinning in return.

And a small flicker of hope, for Dean, for them, for what their life could be, ignited in his chest. They could have this, like really have this.

Of course a single conversation doesn't fix a lifetime of self-doubt and anxiety, that exists between the two of them. But it's a start.

So Dean pulls back, keeping his arms tight around Cas' waist.

"Well I'm glad we got that sorted out. But if you ever pull that self sacrificing bullshit again, I swear to god I'll kick your ass so hard it'll blast you back to the beginning of time, capiche?"

A smirk spreads across Cas' face, amusement dancing behind those blue eyes.

"Yes. I capiche"

And Dean barks out a laugh, shoving Cas' head away affectionately.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Yes, but I'm your pain in the ass" Cas smirks, pinching Dean's ass, for effect.

And Dean definitely doesn't squeak in surprise, and cause Cas to laugh. But Dean does shut him up with another kiss.

God he's gonna be the death of him, but the thought only makes Dean's heart swell.

"C'mon dumbass, lets go find our kid" Dean says with a fond eye roll.

"But what about the lig-"

"Fuck the lights, if Sam thought Jack bursting them up was so funny, then he can fix them. Now, let's go see if we can get Jack to laugh so hard, that he blows up Sam's blender"

"Oh, and here I thought I was the dumbass"

Another laugh rips through him as grabs his hand, tugging Cas down the hall.

And when Cas squeezes his hand back, a warmth washes over him.

Yeah, they were going to be just fine.

Tag list:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants

@bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @scarecrowmax

(As always please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!!💛)

#so i rewrote this like 5 times and idk if im happy with it but this is it #this is a jourey and i hope its not too disconnected it gets a little cracky for like .1 second i dont even know #this is also so long i literally dont know what the hell happened #i wanted then to use their words for once and idk this turned into like 90% dialogue which i never write #but hey look sam! #so um...enjoy them using their words #dean winchester #castiel #baby!jack #jack kline #destiel #bec writes #destiel fic #baby jack truthing #season 13 #deancas #casdean #destiel fanfic

[thatslikely]

Fireball - F.W.

Fireball- Fred Weasley x fem!reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: food and allusions to sex

Word Count: 3k

A/N: did I go overboard? yes. do I want to go to an amusement park with Freddie? yes.

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name and Y/L/N is Your Last Name

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl @horrorxweasley 

if you wanted to be added, send me a dm or ask!

“Sweetheart, have you got everything all packed up? I hope you didn’t accidentally pack any Canary Creams this time!” Fred jested from the room across the hall of the Burrow as you eagerly stuffed various waterproof jackets, sticky bottles of sunscreen that smelled pungently of hot summer afternoons spent loitering by the lake, and stacks of Muggle ‘cash’ into a small backpack.

“I think so. And do you really have to bring up that one time every time I’m in charge of snacks?” Zipping up the pockets of the sack, you gave it a satisfactory pat. 

“Don’t worry, I thought you still looked cute, even as a bright yellow birdie.” You were helpless to stop your eyes from rolling in your skull with a sarcastic grumble.

As Fred sauntered over to you, arms extended and ready to give you a bear hug, you extolled, “are you excited? Your first time at an amusement park!” His muscular arms tightly wrapped around yours’; so tightly, in fact, that you lifted off the ground, still wrapped his playful yet loving embrace like a familiar blanket of comfort. The shirt handsomely draped over his figure smelled like home; of the common room after the crackling fireplace ceased, the deserted aisles of a fluorescent convenient store at midnight, burnt popcorn kernels smoking from the microwave. 

“Of course I’m excited, Y/N. You’ve only blabbered about this place since the beginning of time. It better live up to the stories you’ve told!” he said cheerfully into your ear, his warm breath fanning your face, causing electric shocks of thrill to pang every one of your nerves. 

“Today’s gonna be so much fun!” Your chest fluttered as Fred gently set you down like a prized china doll, throwing the stuffed backpack over his broad shoulders.

“I hope the fun carries over into tonight, too.” Fred painted a devilishly handsome suggestive smirk on his features, barely fighting off the urge to buckle your knees with his signature wink.

“Oh shove off, Freddie!” you giggled as you friskily swatted your boyfriend’s bicep. “Let’s just focus on the park for now, we can worry about that later.”

His intoxicating lips pressed a small peck to your forehead before he asked, “You ready to go have the best day ever with your impossibly amazing, handsome, clever, boyfriend?”

“Yes, Fred,” you smiled as he unsheathed his spiky-handled wand, “yes!”

With a quick, pickle-jar-lid pop! you and Fred were instantly engrossed in the eye of a large crowd of joyous Muggle families scurrying around in circles reminiscent of the windy spirals of a cyclone. Most grinning adults had a tiny, chubby hand gripped in their palm, and most of the bubbly kids had a drippy strawberry popsicle in theirs’. 

The familiar plaza surrounding you flooded your heart with comfort and security. Wheeled food stands with bright, enthusiastic neon signs formed street-like pathways; the distant screams from speedy roller coaster riders melded with the thematic music echoing from speakers.

“We’re here!” you squealed, running over to a stand to grab a neatly labeled map of the park, despite knowing its layout like the back of your hand. Fred had been prone to getting lost before, especially in non-magical places, such as malls or airports (We have a lost boy named Fred Weasley, lost at gate thirty-six, and he’s looking for his, er- significant other, Y/N Y/L/N. He’s sixteen years old, quite tall, and has bright red hair, impossible to miss. Please come pick him up at the travel counter, thank you). You were tempted to tease him as you handed him the map, but considering the high possibility he had some sort of prank secretly stashed on his person, you wouldn’t dare risk it.

Fred uttered a “whoa,” as he took in his surroundings with enchanted, curious umber eyes, “this place is absolutely wicked.” His gaze then downturned, scanning the map, intently awaiting the vibrant, printed graphics to spring to life like pamphlets in the Wizarding World do.

“The map’s not going to start moving, if that’s what you’re waiting for, silly,” you teased, pointing to your location on the detailed unfolded brochure. 

“Pfft, I knew that.” His insincere arrogance didn’t help to conceal the slight pink tone that heated his cheeks at all. Pure-blood wizards were truly an enigma.

You ignored his unsuccessful cover-up with an expression that screamed, ‘yeah, right’, as you explained to him (a bit condescendingly) like a schoolchild, “we’re right here, at the entrance. There’s a list of the rides, bathrooms, shops, and places to eat off to the side.”

The blazing sun overhead coated your surroundings with tepid, dandelion-hued light, and the relaxed summer breeze softly ruffled your flowy strands of hair, as well as Fred’s. He quickly combed through his fiery mane with his fingers, a smirk quirking his lips at the promise of so many exciting things to do and see.

“We’re gonna start off with my favorite ride ever: The Fireball.”

Fred dropped his jaw to respond, but you wasted no time maneuvering to the beloved orange scream-producer. You hastily snatched his large hand before weaving him through the cluster of people, scuttling towards a looming bright, tiger-orange arc towering above everything in the distance: the peak of the Fireball. The Fireball was the single best roller coaster ever constructed: its seats were comfortable and secure, its extensive track was fluid and fast, and the excellently paired loops and corkscrews were enough to spark terror in even the bravest riders.

You had been savoring the thrill of the beloved flame-colored coaster for as long as your crown had finally surpassed the minimum-height indicating green line on the sign before its intimidating crimson gates so many years ago. 

Tears streamed horizontally across your face, a painful, open-mouthed smile etched onto your features. Screamed giggles echoed from your toothy mouth as you firmly gripped the bar in front of you, letting the rapid twists and turns of the coaster envelop you wholly. By the time the track had slowed and looped back to the station, your head was spinning, allowing you to barely think, let alone walk. Your hair was fluffed out like a bird’s nest but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was, you had to ride Fireball again.

No other coaster could even dream to compete with the beast of an attraction; it drew you in like a magnet, and hadn’t let you go since. Every other ride just felt inexplicably off in a way that even the most eloquent weren’t capable of articulating. And you finally got to share your favorite coaster with the person you undoubtedly love the most: Fred.

“Freddie, are you ready to go on the best roller coaster of all time? It’ll blow your mind!” you excitedly asked, pulling him towards the coaster’s spaghetti-twisted track. The look of pure bliss that exuded from your body was so, so difficult to say no to. There was something so child-like about your pupil’s vivacious glow; it reminded him of the days so long ago when his biggest stressor was whether he should pull a prank on an unsuspecting Ron or Percy next. 

But an equally childish emotion struck his heart: fear. Fred Weasley feared nothing. A furious Umbridge, maniacal Dark Wizards, and even speedy rogue Bludgers wouldn’t even make him flinch. A roller coaster however, was different. Whether it was the sketchy-looking track held together by metal bolts, the loopty-loop that he would surely fall out of, or the fact that it was made by hands, not magic, inexplicable waves of nervousness flooded his body, causing his heart to boom faster and louder in his chest and his palms to condensate with sweat.

“Hey, uh, angel, it’s actually getting pretty hot, don’t ya think? Why don’t we go have some ice cream first, my treat?” Fred nervously asked, an unshakable stutter in his words. He delved into his pocket, revealing fistfull of bills and coins, eagerly looking for an ice cream stand. “I hope you know where the ice cream is?”

“‘Course I do, Freddie. The best cones are this way, follow me.” You giddily guided the lanky ginger through twists and turns, passing a multitude of fun (and tamer) rides Fred had never seen before. At long last, the two of you reached a small, dark and light blue-striped stand with a snowman holding a cone of strawberry deliciousness hung out front. The best ice cream in the whole park.

While the prospect of romantically sharing a cone of ice cream with Fred sounded tooth-rottingly sweet, the both of you were a tad too stubborn to be willing to share a single frozen treat. He did generously give you a lick of his drippy strawberry cone, however, and you relented to his pitiful puppy-dog eyes and quivering lip, letting him have a bite of yours’.

The ice cream almost instantaneously sent Fred back to summers at the Burrow when he was still equally adorable, but a far cry from who he was now. He was short, only an inch or two taller than Ron, his grin was crooked, and the bridge of his nose was dotted with bright orange freckles. Every cherished summer afternoon was spent slashing in the creek, throwing mud pies at Percy, digging up worms in the dirt, and daring Ron to bite into a cattail to see what it tasted like (that didn’t end well).

Once the delicious cream safely resided in your stomachs, you eagerly asked if the vermillion-haired boy across from you was ready to go on the ride of his life. When he responded with an inscrutable expression, the trips of his ears pricking with nervousness, you added persuasively, “c’mon Freddie, the line’s gonna get long if we wait much longer. The park’s filling up fast.” 

“Hey! I have an idea. Instead of waiting in a boring line that’ll take forever,” -he exaggerated each syllable- “I could try to win you a prize at one of those booths over there. How does a giant teddy sound?” The grin on his face was impossible to renounce.

“Only if I get to play too. We’ll see whether you’re gonna be the one lugging around a huge stuffed bear!” 

Fred yanked you to the nearest carnival game like an eager golden retriever, which evidently was a vibrant water gun race. The object of the game was to position your water gun to hit the target perfectly, and whoever held the jet until the quota was filled won. 

Fred slapped a few bills onto the counter proudly, and the Muggle worker eyed him confusedly, before handing back a stack of greens to Fred. “It’s only five to play, sir.”

Fred took the vacant stool to the right to you, eyes glued on the prize: a large, bubble-gum pink teddy bear. Before he could even learn how to play, the bell rang, and water spewed out of the guns in front of you. Easily, you lined up the stream to the orange target before you, causing varicolored lights to flash and spiral., clashing the darkening sky above. Fred, however, wasn’t so lucky; he accidentally drenched the less-than-happy carny’s clownish uniform. The dripping employee sharply handed you the teddy before grumbling for the both of you to leave, preferably immediately.

“Ha! I won!” you boasted, rubbing the plushie in Fred’s amused face as you walked hand-in-hand past coasters and rides. He chucked before grabbing it from your hands, offering, “I’ll hold your prize for you, Miss Champion-water-gunner.”

“Okay, let’s go ride a coaster! I’m sure you know which one I wanna ride by now.” However, Fred was still nervous as ever. He’d never admit it, so naturally, he came up with every possible excuse. 

“I- erm, why don’t we go ride that spinny one over there?” 

“The carousel? That’s a toddler’s ride!”

“If I want to ride a horse-y, I will ride a horse-y!” Fred swooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the roped-off queue bridal-style while you flailed your arms, your face reddening with embarrassment.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself seated on a jewel-embellished caramel horse, one of your hands gripped onto the golden pole lifting your pony up and down in a galloping motion. Your other hand was intertwined with Fred’s, who was perched on a mahogany horse draped in orange and green carpets and tassels beside you. Astonishment swam in his cocoa pools; his toe tapped in the stirrup to the old-fashioned circus music playing, he fiddled with the plastic emeralds of the horse’s bit, and he gave you the most innocent, heart-melting grin you’ve ever seen.

Once the bejeweled horses’ hopping halted, and the melodic recording of the march slowly faded, the sun crept below the horizon, granting the prussian blue air a chilly nip; it looked as if a Monet painting were suspended above the millions of flashing cabochon bulbs. 

“Freddie, it's getting dark. We have time for probably one more ride,” you said, not failing to note the lively glow drain from Fred’s rosy cheeks and faint saffron freckles.“What’s wrong?”

“I uhh… I didn’t want to tell you this before, but…” -he scratched the nape of his neck with furrowed brows- “I’m scared of roller coasters.” Fred cracked a nervous side-mouthed smile. “Something about it just… I feel like I’m gonna fall out!”

“Oh, Freddie, I had no idea,” you said apologetically, resting your hand on his flanneled shoulder. The coruscating glow of the kaleidoscopic lights highlighted the fearful darting of his pupils.

“I wanna ride Fireball, it looks sick, but I’m more scared than I’d care to admit.” 

“Here it’s okay, we can go on a smaller coaster if you want. Rocket’s always a classic, too,” you suggested, gesturing towards a short, blue and silver arch suffused in colorful carnival irradiance.

“No, I need to face my fear! Let’s go ride Fireball, darling. No buts!” Fred ushered you towards the Fireball, despite not having a clue about where it’s spaghetti bowl of track was grounded.

“It’s just like riding a broom! More safe, actually.” Fred lifted the chains of the queue for the both of you to mischievously slip under; you were pleasantly surprised to see the line was relatively short. 

“Oh by the way, you better not tell anyone that I, Fred Weasley, star Quidditch player and most popular student, actually can get scared, or expect a foul prank in your future.” Fred embraced you with a hug from behind, not shy of showing some more risque displays of affection to the other teenaged riders to cement the unwavering fact that you were his, and only his.

“Well someone doesn’t seem so nervous anymore,” you teased, poking his chiseled chest playfully.

“What can I say? You’re too distracting.”

You gave him a sarcastic simper as you pulled him by the collar closer and closer to the loading station which was packed with workers and thrill-seekers alike. Fred continued to stay tricksy, a permanent smug smirk upturning his lips as his hands stayed glued to your body, in one place or another.

At long last, the mechanical locking of lap bars and revving of coaster-cars stiffened the slightly cocky Weasley (his nervous form reminded you oddly enough of a breadstick). You gave him more compassionate touches of affection, combing your fingers through his messy hair and tracing small circles on his back, humming.

When the menacing silver gates opened, allowing the two of you to climb inside the fire-truck red carts, Fred looked as if he would explode at any given moment. You grabbed his large, defined hand, your thumb soothingly rubbing vertical strokes on his metacarpal. Fred’s knees were nearly level with your chest once he was securely seated; the lap bar was generous with your wiggle room, but you didn’t mind, as long as Fred felt safe.

Fred’s hand’s grip was tight on yours’; you could feel his heart pump through each of his branchy veins rapidly. He asked seconds before the train was off to slowly climb the first daunting hill, “promise me you won’t let go?”

“I’ll never let you go, promise.”

The next approximately two minutes of ride time were a fantastic blur, just as magical as anything the Wizarding World had to offer. Streaks of golden lights shone around snippets of swirling orange tracks that subjected your body to addicting G force. Your weightless figure flew up and down serpent-esque hills and valleys, you were firmly pressed into your seat, hair hanging down in a flame shape on loopty-loops, and on corkscrews you swear your insides were rearranged.

As promised, you didn’t let go of Fred, in fact the opposite. On the first steep drop, he mustered the courage to hold your intertwined fingers above his head as he emitted a bellowing scream of raw pleasure. He submitted to the following expertly engineered twists and turns, letting his lanky body swish and fly at the mercy of the ride. It felt like a fierce match of Quidditch to him, except for the fact that his eyes were scrunched closed with joy, not open and alert for Bludgers. 

Once Fireball came to an impossibly speedy ending, reality smacked you like a bus. As you got up from your seat to exit the dock, your legs wobbled and shook due to the copious amounts of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You concernedly surveyed Fred, who graciously supported you out of the station.

You peeled your awe tingling lips open to ask how he felt, and almost physically, he uttered a single, “wicked!” 

“How could I have been ever scared of that? I feel like my bones are shaking inside of me!” he managed to exuberantly smile. He swished his arms back and forth pure joy flooding through him, prickling at his every nerve.

“I’m so glad you had fun, Freddie.”

“Thanks for helping me, y’know, have fun, let loose. I feel alive in a way I never have before, it’s insane!”

“I think we may be able to squeeze in one more ride. Wanna go for round 2?”

Fred pressed a rough, passionate kiss to your unsuspecting lips, his electric taste overwhelming you, coating every inch of yourself with red-hot desire, a new and welcome sensation that would linger for weeks.

“You know it.”

#fred weasley #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #fred weasley x reader #fred and george weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x #fred weasley and george weasley #fred weasley au #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley hc #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley story #the weasley twins #weasley twins #the weasleys #weasley wizard wheezes #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harrypotter #harry potter fic

[beautiful-and-terrible]

dazed ‘n’ confused (part 4)

A/N: just a quick chapter for you guys before i have to put this story on the back burner :( i have an annual essay coming up in school that i gotta focus on. anyway, hope you like the gangs drunk shennanigans

Ship: Rodrick Heffley / OFC

Warnings: underage drinking / drug use, inebriated driving (DONT DRIVE DRUNK KIDS THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY DONT BE STUPID :) )

---

“If we get caught, my mom’ll kill me,” Rodrick groaned.

“Let’s bounce,” Nicole said, untangling herself from him and grabbing his hand as they ran further into the back yard, looking for an escape route.

“I’ll boost you,” Rodrick said, gesturing to the fence. Nicole nodded, not thinking of a better plan, and wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. She stepped into the make-shift step Rodrick made with his palms, and as she swung a leg over the fence, he pushed her the rest of the way. It wasn’t the most graceful execution, and she ended up landing on her ass with a grunt of pain.

Rodrick also clumsily made his way over the fence - both of them being drunk and high didn’t help their coordination much. “Sorry, are you good?” Rodrick said, clutching his shin, and Nicole waved him off.

“It’s fine, let's just get to the van.”

“Oh, fuck, the van!” Rodrick hissed, “The pigs are totally gonna know it’s mine.” With a big fucking stupid band name written on the side, Nicole reckoned he was right - it was pretty easy to identify, even without the plates.

“I can drive, don’t worry,” Nicole said, already starting toward the white van, creeping between other cars on the street.

“Nikky, you’re as trashed as I am, no way am I letting you drive.”

“Trust me, hot Rod,” Nicole said, slipping her hand into his front pocket and pulling out his keys before he could even blink. As they approached his van, Chris and Ben appeared in the shadows next to them, whispering excitedly as they spotted them.

“As soon as we saw the lights we bolted,” Ben snickered, but Chris looked concerned.

“Yo, I hope Caitlin doesn’t get arrested. There was a lotta booze in there,” he muttered, and Ben smacked his arm.

“You whipped, dude?”

Chris scoffed, “No, I would just feel bad for anyone in that sitch.”

“I agree,” Nicole said, feeling guilty that she couldn’t help Caitlin get out of trouble.

“C’mon, let’s fucking go,” Rodrick said, and all at once the four of them dashed to the van. Nicole jumped in the driver's seat, shoving the key in the ignition with some fumbling, and peeling out from their parking spot across the street from Caitlin’s house with enough force to make even Rodrick proud.

“We’ll make a NASCAR driver out of you yet, Nikky,” Rodrick laughed, whooping as he leaned his head out the window like a dog, the night air tangling through his hair. Ben scrambled up to the front seat from the back of the van, fiddling with the radio before he settled on a station playing “Where Is My Mind” by Pixies. Nicole turned up the volume to its top capacity, concentrating on the road lines in front of her. The adrenaline of avoiding the cops had sobered her up a little, but she was still feeling paranoid from the weed and drowsy from the beer. She drove as slowly as she dared so as not to seem suspicious. 

“Thanks for being our getaway driver, Nicole,” Chris said, his words slurring a little more than she had noticed previously. She looked back and saw him chugging a beer in the back.

“Dude, don’t fucking drink while I’m driving! We’re already in deep shit as it is,” Nicole said, turning on to the main street of downtown Plainview. Just a few more turns and they’d be home.

“You’re deep in something, alright,” Ben cackled, and he and Chris high-fived.

“Yeah, six inches deep in your mom,” Nicole shot back, and Rodrick let out an “ooooooo”, pointing at Ben, “Gotcha, bitch.”

Eventually, by some miracle, they made it to Nicole’s street. She hit the curb as she pulled up in front of her and Rodrick’s house, causing all three boys to shriek in unison. Nicole dissolved into giggles, both in relief of finally being out of danger and in reaction to the boys high-pitched screams of indignation.

“She’s an antique, Nikky!” Rodrick said, jumping out of the van to stumble to the front and assess the damage.

“Oh, I’m fine, by the way,” Nicole snarked, and Rodrick suddenly looked at her intensely, giving her a slightly blurry-eyed up-and-down look. 

“Fine as hell,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear, and she blushed, biting her lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“Rodrick, can we crash at your place,” Ben asked, Chris making puppy dog eyes at him.

“Me too - I don’t wanna wake my parents up. Our front door is creaky as shit,” Nicole said.

Rodrick sighed loudly, as if he were being asked to do something terribly inconvenient. 

“Yeah, fine. Y’all want mac and cheese?”

The four of them, all drunk and high as kites, looked at each other and nodded in perfect synchronicity. 

As quietly as they could for four fucked up teenagers, they snuck their way into Rodricks kitchen. He pulled out a four pack of Kraft Mac and Cheese microwave cups from the pantry, filling them all with way too much water and sticking all four of them, at the same time, in the microwave.

“Dude, can I eat this beef jerky?” Chris asked, rummaging through the pantry.

“They’re my dads,” Rodrick said, as if that offered an explanation. “If you wanna explain to him why they’re gone, knock yourself out.”

Chris slowly put the bag back, looking put out.

Nicole stood next to Ben, both of them leaning on the kitchen counter. Nicole looked over at him, and he looked back, giving her a little smile. He wasn’t bad looking, but where as Rodrick was endearing because he tried to seem cool and really wasn’t, Ben had an effortless coolness about him.

“Thanks for coming with us tonight, Ben,” Nicole said. The alcohol must be making her feel emotional. After all, they had only just met today.

“Aww, Nikky, of course! I never pass up an opportunity for debauchery,” Ben said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. He pronounced debauchery like “de-booch-ery”, but Nicole was too drunk to catch the mistake. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rodrick glaring at Ben. Dumbass, he has no reason to be jealous, Nicole thought to herself, and gave him a little reassuring wave by wiggling her fingers in his direction.

“Yo, be careful on this mac, its fucking hot,” Rodrick said, pulling the cups out of the microwave. They still had water in them, and the cheese powder wasn’t fully mixed in, but in the moment it was the most delicious thing Nicole had ever tasted.

“Should we watch a movie?” Ben suggested, and Chris bounced on his toes excitedly.

“Killer Clowns from Space!! Pleeeaaaase! You’ve been promising me for weeks now that we’d watch it.”

Ben sighed, Rodrick rolled his eyes, but Nicole had no opinion on the subject, so she made the executive decision to say, “I’m down.”

Ben and Rodrick both groaned, and Chris gave her a fist bump from across the kitchen island.

“Nikky has taste, sorry guys,” Chris said, looking very smug as he slurped his luke-warm mac and cheese.

They all somehow stumbled up to Rodrick’s room - Nicole belatedly realized she had been dreaming about being in his room for weeks, and now that she was here took the time to really appreciate what was in front of her.

A person’s room can tell you everything you need to know about them. For one, Rodrick was messy, but no more messy than any other average teenage boy. Clothes on the floor and the back of his desk chair, thrown haphazardly over a bean-bag in the corner of the room. There were christmas lights strung from the ceiling, both white and rainbow, that gave the room a cozy vibe that Nicole would’ve never expected from Rodrick.

His walls were mostly covered in band posters, and above his desk there was a cork board littered with tickets of concerts he had been to. Nicole almost seethed with jealousy at the sheer amount and quality of concerts he had been to - Leftover Crack, Pleasure Venom, Less than Jake, and one of Nicole’s personal favorites, Mannequin Pussy.

“You like Mannequin Pussy?” Nicole said, whipping her head around to look at Rodrick. 

“That's not the only kind of pussy he likes,” Ben hollered, causing Chris to smack him upside the head.

“There's a lady present, dumbass,” Chris said, and Ben raised his hands in surrender.

“I think you mean that’s the only kind of pussy he gets,” Nicole said, throwing a teasing wink toward Rodrick, who blushed bright red.

“Yeah, they’re good. Romantic is my favorite album,” Rodrick said, scratching the back of his neck self consciously. Ben and Chris started making kissing noises in his direction, and Rodrick threw a pillow at them.

As Chris and Ben fought over who would set up the projector, Nicole let her snooping instincts take over, looking at the other miscellaneous things Rodrick had around his room - empty liquor bottles filled with more lights, a surprising amount of books (mostly graphic novels), a lava lamp filled with miniature rubber ducks, and mushroom paraphernalia. Everywhere. His pillowcases, the tapestry above his bed, and the stickers on his water bottle all had holographic or brightly colored mushrooms on them. She was so absorbed in her investigation she didn’t even notice Rodrick next to her until he spoke.

“Committing it to memory? You might never be in here again,” Rodrick said with a small smirk. Nicole gave him a look out of the corner of her eye.

“I wouldn’t count on it, babe,” Nicole said boldly. She felt the warmth of Rodrick’s hand on her hip, and looked up at him. And his lips. She wanted to kiss him again so badly it was like a drug, her body telling her to get her next fix as quickly and as often as possible. Being in his space, the place he let himself be his most authentic self, was very intimate, even with Chris and Ben still arguing in the corner.

Rodrick looked away shyly, squeezing her hip once before turning back to the boys. Chris had evidently lost the rock-paper-scissors match to set up the movie on the projector, and was adjusting the screen on the far wall of Rodrick’s room, trying to find a website to pirate the movie from.

“If we’re gonna watch this shit let’s do it,” he said, settling himself in the beat up reclining chair he had, arms above his head. He should be illegal, Nicole thought to herself, making herself comfortable on the bed.

Which ended up being a mistake, because 20 minutes into the movie, Nicole was asleep. She felt a blanket being gently placed over her before she was dead to the world.

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x original female character #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #greg heffley #emo #rock #band #emoband #ratpack #summer #summer romance #fanfiction #rodrick heffley fanfiction

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #10

Warning: mention of penis, but no touchy touchy of anything like that

My house keys were on the same keychain as my car keys. I told Spencer which one was for the front door, and he opened it, letting me in first. I walked in and started my 'getting home routine'.

"Hey google, I'm home." I said, smirking at Spencer.

All of the lights in my lounge room and kitchen came on and music started playing in the background. My house wasn't anything fancy, so I enjoyed little upgrades where I could get them. Spencer looked up from what he was doing, to see everything in action, his mouth slightly agape. He finished closing the door, ensuring that it was locked before finally coming inside to look around. I showed him around the basic parts of my house.

Firstly the kitchen, which was to the left of my front door,

"Feel free to get yourself a drink or anything you like while you're here." I told him, gesturing toward the fridge and cupboards, continuing my tour of the house. next was the living room, and then into the hallway where the bedrooms and bathroom reside. Once we had reached the bathroom, I realised that I was desperate for a shower.

"I'm gonna have a shower, and then we can put some aloe gel on our burns." I told him, walking into the bathroom with a towel in my hand. Spencer followed me in,

"You know, you really don't have to-"

"I told you, I would look after you That's also been the job assigned to me, so it's what I'm going to do." he interrupted.

"What are you gonna do, shower with me?!" I laughed.

"If I have to!" the comeback was unexpected, and suddenly, there were butterflies in my stomach at the thought of he and I being naked together - showering together.

I told him to sit on the toilet if he insisted on not leaving my side and he did. I hopped into the shower - still fully dressed- and closed over the curtain. I undressed, throwing y clothes over the top of the glass walls, hearing the soft 'flop' as they hit the ground. Turning on the shower, I realised that Spencer probably needed a shower, too.

"You haven't showered yet, either..." I called over to him, peaking through a gap I made in the curtain, and his head tilted up to look at me, "You're welcome to join me. At least you'll be right here if anything happens." my tone was more suggestive than I had intended, but I ran with it. Spencer stood up almost immediately,

"Would that be alright with you?" his question came out fast, and I nodded.

"Yes, Doctor, that's fine with me." I said, looking at him. His nose and cheeks were red, his hair frizzy from the excitement of the day, and his skin dry from the salt water.

I popped my head back into the shower, closing the curtain over once again, and he got undressed. once he was done, the shower curtain opened and he stepped in. I took the brief moment that he was looking at the ground, to look him up and down, my eyes growing wide when they landed on the place below his belly button. He had finally made it all the way in, and I stepped back, snapping my eyes away from his body and up to his face. He laid his head back into the stream of the shower, rinsing his head, droplets rolling down his face as he did so. His long fingers ran through his hair, ensuring all of it was wet, the veins in his forearms, protruding through his skin - from being dehydrated, I assumed.

He turned to face the stream one his hair was wet, and started rubbing his face and chest. I looked over his body once again, admiring the length of him. His back was long and toned. as my eyes traveled down his body, I noticed a scar just above his knee. Before I could return my eyes back up to his head to ask about the scar he turned around, and everything was on display. I suddenly stopped, my eyes growing wide again and my mind filling with thoughts that no one should have about a co-worker. I snapped my eyes back up to his head, my finger pointed out toward his leg.

"I got shot." he said, looking down at the scar continuing to explain about how he got shot, he suddenly stopped when he noticed all I was doing was nodding. "Are you okay?"

Honestly, I was just trying hard to get the thought out of my head, thoughts of him naked. even though, I didn't have to think about it, he was right there,

"Yeah, I..." I hesitated which only made him more concerned, "Look, you've got a really nice body." I said to him, trying to redirect my attention anywhere but there.

"That's not what's bothering you, please tell me what's wrong." he pressed, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Spencer, your penis is quite big." I said as quick as I could while focusing my eyes on the shower wall.

"Oh... Well the average size of a penis in the US is approximately three point six one inches while flaccid, with an erection they are approximately five point one six inches. Mine is slightly bigger than aver-"

"Spencer, you don't have to say anything. I shouldn't have been looking in the first place." I interjected. Even though I loved to listen to him list of facts, this was one I didn't need to know. I got out of the shower not long after that, I had made things awkward by saying what I did. I got out and grabbed my towel off the rack. barely wrapping it around myself before heading to my bedroom.

I sat on the edge of my bed, my towel coming slightly unwrapped on my back. My head fell into my hands and I sighed.

"Why do I have to be so awkward?" I whispered to my self, "Idiot!"

"Y/N.." Spencer's voice called from the door and my head snapped up to see him standing there, towel around his waist, "you're not an idiot. If you don't want to do anything like that again, we don't have to. I accepted your offer, not only because I really needed a shower, but because I wanted to be close to you, too." his voice was soft and sincere.

I looked over his body, his hair had been pushed back out of the way, a few stray droplets falling down his face. As well as the few stray droplets falling down his body and being soaked up by the towel. My eyes made their way back up to his beautiful chocolate browns, they were staring at me, looking for some type of answer.

"Spencer... I want to be close to you, too. I don't want anything bad to happen, because I like you Spencer. I really like you." My voice cracked slightly at the thought of losing Spencer. It was silly to be feeling this way, we haven't even known each other that long.

He walked over to me and cupped my face in his hands - forcing me to look into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here whenever you need me." his words were soft, but firm. Tears brimmed my eyes and soon started rolling down my cheeks. I was pulled into a hug, and Spencer stood up, taking me with him, my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. I buried my face in his neck as I started sobbing.

He held me there until my body had calmed, his arms were holding me so close against him. I pulled back, looking him in the eyes, keeping my hands on his shoulders. His eyes were tinged red, and tears were welling on his lower lash line.

"Don't cry for me Spencer, please..." I pleased softly, the sight breaking my heart. He tried to blink it away, but it fell down his cheek instead. I wiped it with my thumb, "Thank you for being here."

He didn't say anything else, only pulled me back into him. we were tangled together once again and I wanted to stay there forever.

Alas, it was not to be, He soon enough puled back once again, bringing once hand to the back of my head and guiding my head toward his own, only to kiss me on the forehead before putting me back onto my bed. My legs had managed to undo his towel, as it fell once I was detached from his body, my own towel following suit.

I grabbed my own towel, averting my gaze from his while he scrambled to catch his before it hit the ground. I let out a small laugh, which caused Spencer to laugh, too. It was good to see a smile on his face.

Spencer left to go get a new change of clothes and I pulled out a nightie from one of my drawers. This nightie is one of my favourites, the soft flowing material, lined with lace. It hugged in all the right places and flowed everywhere else. I slipped it on, throwing my towel on top of my drawers and headed for the kitchen.

I made my way to the fridge, bopping along with the music that was still playing in the background, and opened it. My eyes landed on the bright orange bottle of Sunkist, Ironic, I thought to myself as I grabbed it. I shut the fridge as Spencer was making his way into the kitchen, and I offered him a drink. I grabbed out two glasses, set them on the bench and poured, finally sliding his glass over the bench to him.

"So, what brings you here?" I asked him, trying to make any sort of conversation happen.

"I am here, looking after you - like I was told." he said, seeming genuinely confused on why I would ask that question.

"Spence, I - I was just trying to make small talk." I told him, and he admitted he was not very good at small talk. He didn't really understand the point, when there are so many other things to talk about. Fun new things to learn, he didn't understand why small talk was even a thing people did.

I was interested to learn new things, always up for a challenge to test my brain. Spencer was extremely happy to tell me fun facts, while he did repeat a few things I had heard before, I never stopped him, instead asking more in-depth questions about certain things that really intrigued me. He was so happy to be talking, after being cut off so often by everyone else, I would never have the heart to tell him to stop. But all good things must come to and end.

Soon, my back started hurting and the yawns escaping me, came at closer and closer intervals. I looked at the time displayed on my microwave 0124 it read.

"We should probably go to bed, Spence." while he was sighing contently a himself after finishing another fun fact. We had ended up on the lounge, opposite ends from each other, our legs tangled together. "Are you coming?" I said getting up from the lounge, looking down at him.

"I didn't think you'd want me to be in bed with you." he was taken aback at my proposal and there was no way he could hide the sight excitement in his eyes.

"Don't be silly, come on." I said, tapping his shoulder as I walked past him and down the hallway, gesturing for him to follow when he hesitated.

I made it to my room and climbed into bed, getting under the covers. I called out for google that it was bedtime, and the lights turned off and the music was replaced with Rain sounds. Spencer was climbing into bed as I was pulling up the covers. I laid my head on my pillow, laying on my side, facing him. He mirrored me, his head on the other pillow. I didn't want to close my eyes, I just wanted to stare at him, his features lit by the gentle moonlight seeping through the window.

He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, it was a sight to see. I had got so lost in thought, admiring him, I didn't realise I had scooted closer to him until he wrapped his arms around me. I smiled at myself, and fell asleep there. Safe in the arms of Spencer Reid.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff

[s4ijoh]

the theory of love. matsukawa issei

MATSUKAWA ISSEI X GN! READER

GENRE: soulmate au; (implicit) college au; fluff; crack-ish?

WORD COUNT: 2.2k+

WARNINGS: (minor mention of) nudity

in which you have a beauty mark in each eyelid…

what an odd place to kiss someone for the first time.

you wonder. all different types of sweet yet awkward scenarios on how this meeting with your soulmate would play out begin to surface — more precisely, on how this first kiss with them would play out. out of all places...

why would they kiss your eyelids?

these are certainly not the answers you should be looking to answer during class, you reckon, yet, betrayed by your own inner voice who, against your own will decides to take the reins of your mind, you find yourself drifting away from reality and diving deep into your own head, swimming in thoughts of soulbound lovers and silly first kisses.

a giggle threatens to slip past your lips yet it dies in your throat before it has the chance to escape. it is hard to know when to stop the train of thought before it derails and, as always, the same old question comes back to haunt you.

what is taking them so long?

the question could be worse, you reckon, much worse. when you were just a child, barely old enough to understand the theory regarding love and soulmates, you remember hearing these frightening stories about people who were deemed loveless. they were bound to spend their entire lifetime wandering the face of earth in an infinite yet fruitless quest to find their other half. how cruel, you mused, for the universe to deprive someone of love.

you also recall, at the age of twelve, now old enough to decipher those were not just some bedtime tales, feeling terrified upon the realization that you could be one of the so called loveless ones. were you? although it’s not exactly one of your most treasured memories, it is still fairly vivid in the back of your head — your eyes urgently roaming every inch of skin on your body in a desperate attempt to dismiss that possibility, only for the answer to be mockingly hidden out of your sight.

for the longest time, your pitiful self dwelled on the reality that you weren’t worthy of love only for your faith to be restored when recently, whilst doing your make up, you found the two tiniest, barely perceptible dots laying on each of your eyelids, the symbol of hope itself adorning your skin — the evidence that you were not alone in this world and that some deity from above had blessed you with someone to share your love with.

although in retrospect, the scenario turned out to be a lot more optimistic than what you had first expected and for that you should be thrilled, with each passing day, the hollow in your chest grows darker as you have spent the last six years yearning for the day you’ll cross paths with your soulmate.

your heart longs for its missing piece and unfortunately there is no map to lead you to it.

what if you only meet them by the time you’re too old, too tired to have any love left to give?

it certainly gets lonely when you’re left dealing with the hole on your heart meanwhile everyone around you seems to have found their other half by now. just today, yet another girl in your friend group found her perfect match — or so she thinks, its easy to mistake some random boy for your soulmate when your beauty mark is located on your cheek.

at least you can rely on the fact that the placement of your beauty marks doesn’t leave much room for mistake, thats a given. maybe you weren’t that unfortunate, after all.

“movie night at my place tonight?” you tilt your head up to be met with issei’s figure towering over you. as you slowly bounce back to reality, you shift your eyes to the clock ticking on the wall. you figure you were too lost in thought to hear the lecturer call it a wrap.

“makki’s out of town so you can crash in his bed”

you met issei and takahiro at the beginning of this semester and it turned out that there was more to the two quiet laid back dudes who always sat in the back of the class than what first meets the eye. the chronic bored expressions they wear on their faces at all times are quite deceptive for they are anything but tedious and just happen to be quite easygoing and match your level of sarcasm. the three of you clicked almost instantly. movie nights on friday were a regular but a sleepover? now, that's a first.

(mainly because, besides the two beds on their shared room who were almost a size too small to fit their gigantic limbs, the next best surface on their apartment to sleep on would be the floor itself.)

“just admit that you’re afraid to sleep alone in your room, issei” you begin to gather your things but not without taking a peek at him through the corner of your eye to check the look of amusement growing on his face.

issei keeps his collected demeanor, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance while smiling down at you in a relaxed manner “if you start snoring the same way you always do halfway into a movie, it might actually be scarier to sleep in the same room with you”

you scoff at his merciless comeback although unamused. you knew better than to expect him to give in to your teasing remarks without a fight

“it’s always the guys who can’t even afford a couch who think they’re funny, huh?”

to be fair, you were aware they had just moved in together at the beginning of this semester and the house decor was still a work in progress.

he lets out a lighthearted laugh at your comeback, accepting his defeat and you follow suit, smiling brightly and softening your features “you’re lucky we don’t have one or else you’d be sleeping there tonight”

issei pats your head softly before he adjusts the strap of the backpack hanging off his shoulder and begins to walk away, turning on his heel when he is a few steps away from you, remembering he has to let you know the details for tonight.

when he turns his back on you and disappears into the distance a smile creeps its way into your lips almost instinctively. (what a lost cause. look at you so oblivious to how your heartbeat seems to echo a little louder inside your ribcage or how your heart rate seems to increase it’s tempo whenever you are around issei. you're not a naive little child anymore; you should’ve understood the theory of how love works by now.)

some days on campus are busier than others and you have learned it's easier to daydream your way through boring lectures and classes for time seems to go by faster yet there is no better way to unwind than to spend a friday night on the comfort of issei’s and makki’s tiny cozy apartment watching lame cartoon movies in the tiny screen of a computer. it’s part of your routine now and you find it's also easier to go through an intense week of work when you have these weekly movie sessions with them (him) to look forward to.

issei walks through the door and into the room, grabbing a blanket out of makki’s bed before taking a seat next to you on his bed so you can share the bowl of sweet and salty popcorn he just popped in the microwave. you notice his feet peeking from under the blanket at the end of the bed whereas he's busy searching for a movie to watch on the computer that’s sitting on his lap — you make a mental note to gift him a bigger blanket on christmas since it is just around the corner.

you manage to convince issei to watch the grinch “to get into the christmas spirit” however, as soon as he presses play, your thoughts start drifting away. it has recently come to your knowledge that issei, just like you, still hasn’t found his soulmate — although he seems to be handling the situation a lot more smoothly than you. ever since the day you became aware of it, there’s this question that has been persistently lingering in the back of your head yet you have been hesitating to ask. you are unsure whether it is too early in your friendship to put your nose into more intimate affairs but then you remember it’s just issei, the worst he could do would be to mock you for your nosiness.

“issei,” he hums in acknowledgment while munching on the small pile of popcorn on the palm of his hand with his eyes still glued to the screen. “where is your beauty mark?”

the inquisitive look on your face morphs into one of confusion when he takes a glance at you with mischief gleaming in his eyes. why is he smirking? he pauses the movie, tilting his head back to shove the handful of popcorn into his mouth and placing the computer on the mattress before he stands up, your frown only intensifying upon the sight of him undoing his belt.

“issei!” you exclaim through a fit of laughter at the realization that he just pulled his pants down to reveal his bare ass to your once expectant eyes, your expression contorting to one of terror as you screw your eyes wide shut at his inadequate (yet all too familiar) antics. and here you stood thinking you had predicted what the worst case scenario could possibly be.

the wicked chuckle that erupts from his chest echoes through the dark room and you can hear him fastening his belt back on signaling it is safe for you to stop hiding behind your hands (not before you sneak a peek through your fingers though, just to make sure.)

“my soulmate will have to kiss my ass so I know they’re the real deal” the bed dips as he slumps, in a slouchy manner, on the mattress next to you, taking a glance to notice your eyes widening when he hears the gasp of disbelief that escapes your lips following his words.

“its a joke. you would’ve known that if you had looked” he chuckles still talking in that nonchalant tone of his whilst putting the movie back on.

“yeah. i figured, asshole.” you try to play it cool, brushing off the sound of your heart palpitating furiously against your chest.

half way into the movie and a bowl of sweet and salty popcorn later, your head starts to feel heavy on issei’s shoulder. he glances down at you only for his suspicions to be proven right — you have fallen asleep; just like he knew you would. he takes notice of the way you scrunch up your face, wrinkles starting to form in the corner of your eyes as you force them shut. the brightness of the screen is probably bothering you.

whilst issei wouldn’t trade his sweet bed for the world, given your tired state (and clearly out of courtesy), he can’t find it in him to disturb you so he decides to let you crash in his bed, he will take makki’s for the night.

“‘m going to turn this off” he closes the computer shut while whispering the words in a weary voice as drowsiness has creeped it’s way into his system as well.

“mhm, night” you yawn weakly while lifting your head from his shoulder with your eyes still closed as you manage to give him a clumsy goodnight kiss that lands on his ear before you move to a lying position and pull the blankets over your body, falling into a quiet slumber almost instantly.

his eyes widen in surprise.

did you just kiss him?

during the span of your friendship, neither of you have been the affectionate type sticking to a few sporadic hugs, which were rare nonetheless, yet he is not opposed to this new display of affection. he figures you must get clingier when you’re tired and it might have slipped out of impulse. now that he notices, this is the first time he remembers you kissing him and there is this foreign feeling flaring in the pit of his stomach at the possibility you might kiss him again. he lifts his weight out of bed and suddenly he’s paralized staring at the empty wall ahead of him. wait...

did you just kiss him… on his ear?

the world stops. his feet, although hesitant, are moving on their own as he feels a sudden magnetic pull to you and finds himself gravitating towards your sleeping figure lying on his bed. he crouches down next to you, silently admiring your features with mellow eyes and although his heart is a bit unsteady in his chest, he is overtaken with an inexplicable sense of tranquility. his heart can rest now, you finally found him.

that night you could’ve sworn you felt his lips lingering on your eyelids.

[a/n]: ayooo, just to let you all know that i finally made a google docs where you can sign up for my general taglist (even tho i post like once every two months but its wtvrrrrr, its wtvrr)

the amount of times i started writing this fic and deleted everything just to start all over again because i hated every single word of it… I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING NICE FOR MATTSUN !!1!!!😡 but ngl it was kinda worth the time because im sorta proud of it!

this is the v v v first time im writing for him, hopefully the characterization isnt off… n hopefully you enjoy!!!! ;)))

#matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

[thiswasinevitableid]

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

-----------------------------------------

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

------------------------------------------

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #reader request #meet ugly #boxer au

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 4

Yesyesyes I’m super excited to share this one with you guys!! The game is finally beginning, ahhhh!!!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 4: Goddamn wimps, all of them

Marinette opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight. She stood in a huge village square filled with hundreds of people, the gaps between them growing smaller as more and more players appeared. The sun shone merrily, and an excited chatter began rising in the air. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It felt good to be back.

“Marinette!” She looked around to see Alya and Nino waving a few yards away. She broke into an excited smile and jogged over to meet them. They must have spawned in relative to their actual locations since Kagami, Luka, and the others from her class were already there.

“Hey guys!” Marinette said breathlessly. “Almost didn’t make it. Thanks for the call, Alya.”

The brunette gave her a quick hug. “Anytime, girl. Now you and Lila can show us the ropes!” She bounced excitedly.

Marinette barely caught herself from rolling her eyes and just nodded instead. Of course Lila would be able to help teach the others how to play. It definitely wouldn’t just be Marinette teaching everybody. Again.

Meanwhile, Max and Nathaniel were remarking on how realistic the textures of the cobbled streets were. Marinette did a double-take when she saw Adrien standing next to them. He had an immensely intricate and ornate suit of armor. There was an excess of spikes, ribbons flowing from every joint, and every inch of him was covered in metal. A tall helmet adorned with skull decals cast a shadow over his grinning face.

“What are you wearing?” She spluttered. He pointed a thumb to his chest with some difficulty, the thick metal creaking with the movement.

“This bad boy is the toughest armor in the game! I may have made a few embellishments of my own, so now I look even cooler.” He stated with pride.

Marinette shot a look at Luka, who wore a light set of simple leathers. He grimaced and shook his head, warning Marinette not to question their friend’s surprisingly atrocious taste in fashion. Or serious misunderstanding of armor weight classes.

“You know you could’ve picked any armor you want, right?” Adrien asked.

“Oh, I know. I crafted this set during beta testing!” Marinette spun around to show the boys, gladly welcoming the change in subject. She was dressed in a light suit of armor, the metal tinted a deep red. Black fabric peeked underneath the gaps, a strong yet flexible design of her own making. A simple grey cloak hung off her shoulders, concealing the quiver behind her back.

While Luka and Adrien complimented her brilliant design, she spotted Lila. She looked a little out of her element, hanging back to awkwardly watch a conversation between Kim, Alix, and Kagami, oddly enough. The three were dressed in heavy sets of armor, lamenting about how there weren’t any monsters to battle yet.

Chloe sauntered over to join them and, having heard how even Kagami was itching for a fight, wrinkled her nose. Marinette giggled to herself. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

* * *

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he threw out an arm to steady himself. The transition from logging on was dizzying, but the sensation faded with every deep breath he took. He noted the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Damn, even he had to admit this tech was impressive. Dick and Tim stood next to him, wearing blue and red-toned armor respectively. Tim was looking around wildly, grinning like an idiot.

“Timmy!” Cassie Sandsmark sprinted towards them to tackle her boyfriend in a hug. Oh great, looks like the rest of the kiddy patrol was here too. Looking to where Cassie had run from, Jason indeed saw various members of The Team. Connor looked just as nauseated as Jason had felt after joining. Roy stood next to him, unmoving as he stared down at his very realistic-looking hand. Ouch. Jason had to have some sympathy for the poor kid, not that he’d ever tell him that.

Bart and Garfield, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of their lives. Bart got into a running stance and Garfield gleefully jumped into the air, both falling flat on their faces. Jason snorted as he watched Jaime help his boyfriend up. Jaime asked him, “Whoa there ese, what gives?”

Bart shook his head and muttered, “I don’t have my speed.”

Garfield furrowed his brow and strained his face. “You look like you’re either really constipated or trying to shift,” Artemis informed him.

Ignoring her, Garfield locked his panicked eyes with Connor’s. “I can’t shift either, SB.”

“Der kaolc ym nrut,” Zatanna intoned quietly. When nothing happened, she nervously said, “My magic doesn’t work either.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Goddamn wimps, all of them. “Looks like all you supers will have to stoop to our level.”

“Stay whelmed everyone,” Dick stepped in to mitigate half the group’s outrage. “It’s just a game, we don’t exactly need our other skills right now.”

Before they could say anything else, an enormous bell mounted in the center of the town square began to ring. A hush fell over the crowd. The sky darkened as red hexagons interlocked to create a massive dome around the town.

A tall being flickered to life in the air above them. The hooded figure floated high overhead, their face eerily concealed.

“Attention players,” the figure raised their hands. “I welcome you to my world.” Well that didn’t sound ominous, Jason thought to himself. He felt the mood from the others shift into high alert.

“You may call me the Game Master, and I am the only one in control of this world. You may have noticed that the logout button is missing from your main menu.” The figure paused dramatically. “I assure you, this is no defect in the game. It is all as I have designed it to be. You cannot log yourselves out, and no one outside the game will be able to remove you forcibly. If anyone tries to do so, a transmitter inside the VR headset will emit powerful microwaves into your brain that will end your life.” Shit, shit, shit. This was just supposed to be a dumb game he played to make Replacement shut up about it, what the hell?

“Of the 10,000 players, 215 have already died because their family or friends ignored this warning and attempted to remove their headsets. Media outlets have been reporting on this, so it is safe to assume the danger of your headsets being removed has passed.” This guy had to be joking. Though if he wasn’t, Babs would surely research everything within her power to try to remove them safely.

“One other feature of the game is that you are no longer able to revive players. If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will die and the headset will destroy your brain.” Jason’s eyes widened and his head whipped to Dick. He ran a hand through his hair, looking just as horrified as Jason felt.

“The only way for a player to return to the real world is to clear the game. You are currently on Floor 1, the lowest level of the castle. If you make it to the dungeon and defeat the level boss, you may progress to the next level. Defeat the final boss on Floor 100, and you will clear the game.” This motherfucker couldn’t be serious.

The game master, god what a pretentious prick, raised his hands and began to disappear once more. He said, “Good luck, players,” before disappearing entirely. The sky returned to its cheery blue.

 A beat of silence passed before someone started screaming. Then the thousands of players erupted into a cacophony of sound.

* * *

Marinette stood stockstill amidst the chaos. She felt more than heard masses of people panicking around her. Her eyes darted back and forth without truly seeing anything, mind racing to figure out a solution. If there was no way to safely remove the headset, then they’d have to beat the whole game. What about the Kwami? Could they connect with their miraculi? What about the small powers they’d each accumulated over the years? If those were accessible, then they might stand a chance, but god if they weren’t--

A hand on her arm made her snap her head to attention. It was Adrien, his jaw clenched tightly. She gripped his arm in return, the small reassurance barely that. Around her, the new Order looked to their leader for orders, direction. And behind them, her classmates....

Most were white in the face. Max had his hands clenched in his hair and was muttering to himself about the likelihood that the headsets actually could kill them. From the way he was shaking his head, she guessed it was a definite possibility. Lila looked like a cornered animal, twitchy and desperately looking for an escape. Even Kim and Alix wore uncharacteristically serious expressions.

“Well?” Chloe prompted Marinette. The latter took a deep breath. Better focus on solving the smaller problems first. “Your VIP package came with a house on the first floor, right?”

Chloe blinked in surprise. “Yeah, it did,” she replied uncertainly.

“Good.” Marinette whistled and gestured for the rest of her friends to gather around. “Listen up! We don’t know how everyone else is going to react, so it’s best for us to go somewhere safe to lie low for a while. I can teach everyone the gameplay, and we’ll do our best to help beat the game.”

She looked Alya and Nathanial in the eye, since their hands seemed to be shaking the most, and said with all the confidence of Ladybug, “Think of all the bullshit Hawkmoth’s put us through. We are not going to die here. That’s a promise.”

Marinette drew her bow and half-strung an arrow, holding it parallel to the ground. “Chloe has a house on the first level. Let’s go.” She nodded to Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka to establish a perimeter around the rest of the class as they moved. She exhaled a quiet, shaky breath and led the way out of the square.

The crowd did not part easily. People were sobbing, shouting, hyperventilating. They needed to get out fast before the shock wore off.

Someone stood in front of her. The poor soul was probably just as scared as they were. She put her bow back in her inventory, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“Excuse me,” Marinette gave a little half-wave to get their attention. “May I please get through?”

“Oh, sorry,” He had a deep, male voice. One hand gestured to the direction she was headed as he stepped out of her path. “Go right ahead.” His hands weren’t shaking as the other crept towards his belt. Not good, not good.

A flash of silver was all the warning she got before Luka pulled her back. A knife collided with his hastily raised shield, shedding sparks as the assailant nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. Marinette dropped down to sweep her leg beneath Luka’s shield, knocking the man off his feet. He gave a shout of surprise as he went down, and Luka disarmed him in the confusion.

“Come on, move it!” Marinette shouted over her shoulder. She re-equipped her bow and surged forward, picking up the pace to get the hell out of there. Such a large group was an easy target, they had to get out of the open and fast. People were starting to react beyond their shock, and more of them were bound to get violent.

Her eyes scanned over the buildings in front of them. There. A momentary break in the throng of players allowed her to spot Slipcut Alley, a favorite shortcut of hers. It was only a few yards away. The alley was too narrow for anything but a single-file line, but it provided cover and was hidden by a spell that only other beta testers would know about. It was their best option.

She squared her shoulders and pushed through the last of the crowd. She turned to face her friends, who gathered around her as they too made it out into the small clearing. Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien were watching the crowd behind them, ready to defend against any other attacks.

Marinette put her bow away one more time and asked, “Do you trust me?”

Shaky nods and wide eyes. That would have to do.

“Then follow me,” she said, and walked straight through the wall before them.

* * *

“Our first step should be finding shelter for the night,” Dick said sharply. “We can figure out the rest tomorrow, but it’ll do us no good if we die tonight.” Tim nodded, ever the protégé.

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Jason countered. He couldn’t help it if it came out a little accusatory. He did not sign up for a damn death trap.

It was Garfield who had the answer. “Well, in order to do anything, we need money. So we need to start killing some monsters!” He palmed his fist with a resounding smack. “And then we can see about an inn or something.”

Connor rubbed his chin. “That’s not a bad idea, kid.”

“Just tell me where to hit them,” Roy said in a low voice, sounding about as pissed as Jason felt.

“Let’s split into three teams. Alpha squad will be Artemis, Wally, Bart, and myself. Tim, Roy, Gar, and Connor will be Beta. Jason, you’re with Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna for Gamma.” Great, Jason was the only non-super there. What a grand old time that’ll be.

He made to leave the square and disappear into the panicking crowd, but Dick held his arm. “Hey, I’m trusting you to keep them safe,” he kept his voice low. “It’s been a while since they fought without powers, so keep an eye on them.” He then turned to address the rest of the team. “Alpha will take north. Beta, go south and Gamma see what’s west. Meet back here at sunset. Alpha will secure lodging before engaging enemies.”

“What, no pep talk?” Wally elbowed Dick. The latter didn’t crack a smile as he said, “Just stay alive.”

Beside him, Garfield swallowed hard and said weakly, “Noted.”

Jason rolled his eyes and jerked his head in their assigned direction for the other three members of Gamma squad to come with him. He’d follow along as long as Dick made good plans, and Jason didn’t exactly have any better ideas for now.

He put on his very best I know exactly how to kill you and I’ll do it if you don’t get the hell out of my way face and lead the way out of the packed square. The crowd parted easily before him, and they were out on an open street within a matter of minutes.

”Where to first, ese?” Jaime asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Good question. Jason looked around for a map or something that could tell him the way out of the damn town. When he glanced back for a quick headcount and only counted two, he cursed and asked Cassie, “Where the hell is Z?”

She pointed at a nearby stall where the magician was chatting with the vendor. Zatanna waved to them, then sauntered back over to the rest of the team. “The shopkeeper says there’s a bridge further down this street and to the left that’ll take us west out of the town.”

Cassie frowned. “Was that a player with their own shop already? Man, we are behind.”

“Oh, no it was an AI.” Zatanna readily supplied. “An NPC?” She added on seeing the confusion on her companions’ faces. “Honestly, was I the only one to do research on this game before playing it?”

Jaime sheepishly scratched his head while Cassie squeaked, “Well....” Jason had to agree with them, he just did this to keep Replacement happy. And get Dick off his ass, the meddling prick.

Zatanna shook her head. “Look, AI stands for artificial intelligence, and NPC is a non-playable character. They’re computer-generated people, not actual players.”

Jason caught enough to surmise that these NPCs were created by the same maniac that locked them up in here. He crossed his arms and asked, “How the hell can we trust their word if they’re controlled by that fuckin’ game master freak?”

Cassie bit her lip and had the good sense to look concerned.  Zatanna just shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll just have to find out. We can try following their directions but stay cautious in case it’s a trap.”

“Fine,” Jason sighed. “Let’s go.” He was already resigned to the absolute stupidity of the situation anyway.

They made it to the end of the street without incident, and turned where the shopkeeper had directed them to. There was a bridge, spanning a merrily bubbling river, and open fields dotted with trees beyond it. Jason could smell the greenery and apple blossoms from here.

“Wait!” Jaime threw his arm out. He made a face, then sneezed. “Aw man,” he gave a tremendous sniff. “Can’t eben escabe allergies in a video gabe.”

Cassie laughed at her friend and slapped him on the back, which only made him sneeze again. Dumbasses, they didn’t have time for this. Jason rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and walked up to the base of the bridge. He slowly, carefully stepped across and edged his way to the other side.

The other three followed suit, and upon joining him, Zatanna said cheerfully, “Seems like we can trust the NPCs!”

“For now,” Jason muttered, still not convinced. He turned his gaze to the rolling hills before him, warm breezes sending waves that shimmered through the knee-high grass. He didn’t see any monsters, but there had to be some... right?

He used two fingers to swipe the air in front of him, opening his inventory. At least he remembered that much from the tutorial. He equipped the crossbow he’d loaded in when he created his avatar. Damn, that night in the Batcave felt like it was a week ago.

Jason took a wary step forward, into the grass. “Fan out,” he directed the other three. He didn’t turn to watch as he heard them draw their own weapons and creep up to flank him.

A rustle in the grass ahead had him throw a clenched fist into the air to have the others hold their positions. He waited until the movement stilled, then crept forward a few more steps, careful to keep his footsteps silent. He was within feet of it now, whatever it was. He hoisted up his crossbow to brace it on his shoulder and trained it on the last place he’d spotted movement. There was a sharp inhale behind him, and then Jaime sneezed loudly.

The head of a wild boar whipped up and it lunged for Jason. “Shit!” he yelled. Damn kid and his perfect timing. Jason blindly jumped backward and fired a bolt at the same time. It met its target and the boar shattered into glittering dust that resembled pixels. In front of him, a notification popped up that 20 copper coins, the crossbow bolt he’d shot, and a boar tusk had been added to his inventory. Huh, that was surprisingly easy.

“Wow, that was so crash!” Cassie pumped her fists in the air. “This game is gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Not so fast,” Zatanna frowned. “Remember, this is only the first level. It’s bound to be easy. It’s only going to get harder from here.”

Jason turned around to face them. “And just because that little shit was easy to kill doesn’t mean they all will be on this level.” He noticed Jaime hanging back, looking embarrassed.

“Hey kid,” Jason jerked his chin at him. Jaime's head snapped up. “Do you want to try the next one or wait by the bridge until your allergies clear up?”

Jaime opened his mouth to respond but had to sneeze again. “I think I’ll just waid by the bridge. I’b really sorry guys.” He trekked back to where they’d come into the fields.

“And then there were three. Ladies first,” Jason mockingly bowed, gesturing to the open fields beyond where the boar had been. Zatanna smirked and Cassie stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned with a rude gesture.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

[deceptive-jo]

Whumptober 2021 - It's not just in your head

Chase has to deal with Anti again. Only this time his kids are involved and it gets so much worse.

Words: 1149

(The beginning for this has been sitting in my drafts since last Oct snd holy shit did my writing style change)

---

Opening the door to the apartment Chase took of his hat and placed it on the shelf next to the entrance. ‘Should I try that new recepy?’ Nah, the leftover lasagne would have to do. Henrik had to work the night shift, having just left and thus would not be back to eat with him anyway.

Taking the plate out of the fridge and shoving it into the microwave he leaned his head against one of the cabinets. Chase let out a soft sigh before startling.

Didn’t he just hear something? He listened closely but the only sound other than his breathing seemed to be the microwave next to him- “Daddy? Daddy where are you?” that sounded like- but that couldn’t be possible. He had just dropped of the kids at their mother’s place. “Dad? Where are you?” No that was definitely Mason! His kids shouldn’t be here…not on their own, not sounding so incredibly frightened!

As if the desperate questions in his head were heard the light above Chase flickered a sickly shade of green before turning off completely. Anti. Of course. Against his better judgement he ignored the warning voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Henrik and raced after the green static that slowly began to fill the house, leaving a clear trail for him. He had to know what that bastard was doing here.

Chase went deeper and deeper into the house until he came to a stop in front of the basement door. That's when he finally hesitated. It had been quiet the whole time now, what if his mind was just playing tricks on him? They’d all had some rough couple of weeks, he probably just needed to rest- a shrill scream pierced through the silence that made Chases’ hair stand up.

Without another thought he threw open the door and stormed down into the cellar.

Frantically looking around he soon enough spotted Anti standing close to the backwall with Mason cowering in the corner. Chase couldn’t see his face but he could see the trembling shaking his tiny body and could all too clearly imagine the tears streaming down his face.

Chase wanted nothing more than to hurry over to him and take him into his arms; but first he had to deal with this glitchy bastard blocking his path. “Fuck off, Anti. You’re not welcome here or anywhere near my family. Leave them the fuck alone!”

The glitch only grinned wider, twirling his ever-bloody knife in his hands. “What do you wanna do, Brody? Shoot me?”, he suddenly glitched into the air just mere inches away from Chases’ face who instinctively reached for his gun but only feeling air. Right, of course, that had been locked away in Henrik’s drawer for years.

The realisation dawning on him must have been obvious because Anti actually began cackling. “Aww too bad, isn’t it. Despite all the efforts you never managed to pull yourself together, Brody. Still too broken to protect the people you care about. Pathetic.” The hissed words barely stung, he had heard them often enough already for that to get a reaction.

But he came down here with a mission and he wouldn’t leave before he got his kids out. “Listen, I don’t care whether or not you despise me. Just give me back my kids and leave!” To his surprise the glitch just shrugged and teleported over to the corner before pulling Mason up and shoving him towards his father. Chase had expected him to stumble, maybe fall over from the force of the shove but he certainly hadn’t expected him to just fall over and lay on the stone floor.

Was he unconscious? It was the only explanation for his limp form that Chase could give himself because he didn’t allow his head to come up with any other possibilities.

Slowly he approached the body before kneeling down beside him and turning him over- he wanted to throw up. The sight before him was horrible and he was all too aware of Anti’s stare as he looked into the dead unseeing eyes of his son, his mouth still opened from the screams for help, his pleads for his dad to come. To see it was so unbearably painful but he just couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

After more time than he had, he managed to find his voice again. “Where- where is my other child?”, came out the shaky questions before following more panicked, “Where is Sophie?” “Search”, was the only response he got before Anti disappeared in a cloud of glitches leaving the father alone with his son's body.

After several moments Chase mustered the strength to stand up, his son still in his arms. He still needed to find his daughter. Carefully he examined every room, prepared to find his daughters body any moment, her eyes staring right through him much like her brother's had done, so he was both surprised and relieved to find her sitting behind his bed, tears streaming down her face and trembling with fear, but breathing visibly and very much alive.

Oh god, she was still alive she was there he hadn’t lost both his kids maybe he could at least safe one! With this goal in mind he reached out to her offering her the most comforting smile he could muster up right now. “It’s alright, sweetie. You’re safe now, daddy’s here.” She slowly stood up, spotting Mason in his arms. “What is going up with him, daddy? Why is he acting weird?”

Chase wanted to reassure her, wanted to tell her that everything was fine, even through that was a damn lie but his thought process was interrupted by the sudden pain flooding his body that forced him on his knees and let his vision go white. The last thing he heard before passing out was the hearth wrenching scream of Sophie, then he fell over.

“Don’t worry, girl. You’ll be reunited with your father and brother soon.”

-

Chase shot up with a gasp, body shaking with ugly sobs as he tried to go through his breathing exercises, just one way to calm him down- "Daddy?" His eyes fell onto the mop of dirt blond hair that stirred next to him. Right. Sophie hadn't been sleeping well lately, some horror prank from Mason that went a bit too far. But she was here with him, she was safe...Chase's eyes drifted over the locked gun department for a moment before he laud down again, carefully pulling his little girl into his arm. "Everything's fine, Soph. You can go back to sleep, it's all just bad dreams."

As the two of them drifted of to sleep again, the digital clock above the doorway glitched a sharp green.

#whumptober2021 #no.28 #nightmares #panic #jacksepticeye egos #fic #death tw #knife tw #corpses #child death #chase brody #chase brody kids #sophie brody #mason brody #antisepticeye #past-me scares me a bit

[danicarosaline]

Congrats!! Can you make a JJ blurb with #2 and #8 from the angsty prompt list - with a happy ending pls? 💖 ps you're an amazing writer, I love all your fics, so dont let those few anons convince you otherwise. 😉

#2 “no its not like that” #8 “don’t lie to me”

a/n: thank you anon!!💛 bit of a long blurb lmao😪 but i got carried away im sorry ಠ_ಠ

You looked out the window of the Wreck, large grey clouds blanketed the sky so beautifully that you couldn’t help but stare in awe. Sooner than later,

puddles then began plinking as the rainfall became heavier and you could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window, sounding like the buzzing of angry bees. You sighed, feeling content.

Watching the rain splatter on solid ground or on sand was oddly satisfying. Simply feeling the water droplets on your warm skin after having to spend so much time in the heat was very soothing to you, It was relaxing.

“Hey you, stop slacking off” Kie called from where she stood behind the bar. You turned around and smiled at the brunette, making your way over to sit on the stool. “Oh hush! My shift is over already” you replied and poked an arm out to steal a fry from her plate whilst she tries to swat at your hands but you managed to grab onto a few pieces of fries. Kie does nothing but roll her eyes playfully as she watches you eat her food.

“You already ate, stop stealing my food!” You giggle, sticking out your tongue at the girl. She makes a scissor motion with her hand and bends forward on the counter to pretend to cut off your tongue. The both of you laugh quite loudly, ignoring the judging looks from the customers around. “Alright Kie i'm gonna head off, I’ll see you at the chateau later yes?”

“You bet! tell the boys that damn microwave better be fixed before i get there”

“Will do, posse out!” You shout before heading out, quickening your pace as the rain was still pouring heavily from above.

When you arrived at the chateau you were met with silence. It was unusually quiet for a house filled with three boisterous boys plus Sarah, who could be equally as loud.

Only the sounds of the rain pattering on the roof could be heard. You wondered where the hell everybody was all the while kicking off your dirty white converses and your socks with it and snatching a pair of sandals that John B leaves for you whenever you visited.

“Hello? Where-“ hushed whispers reached your ears, cutting you short. You squinted your eyes to where you thought you heard it and moved forward until you were face to face with the guest room door.

It was suddenly quiet but you swore you heard voices, so you pressed your ear up against the door to listen in. This was stupid, you could have easily opened the door knowing that it could be JJ inside the room but the heavy feeling in your chest made you sus.

“Please..”

Hold up, was that Sarah?

You opened the door gently, to avoid the screeches of it and for anyone to find out you were being a creep by snooping in on a conversation you weren’t meant to hear but the sight you saw made you push on the door violently, probably leaving a few marks on the wall by the forceful shove.

A gasp left Sarah’s lips as she backed away from JJ. JJ’s eyes widening at the sight of you, certainly not expecting you anytime time soon.

The two blondes were standing way too close for your liking and it looked anything but friendly. Not once have you stood that close to John B or Pope, unless it was to give a kind embrace, always a platonic exhange and not a single time have you ever had your face so close to theirs, only inches away from their lips but the two people in front of you convinced you that whatever the fuck was going on, it most definitely wasn’t platonic.

“Babe listen-“ JJ speaks but you don’t wanna hear it. You turn and move quickly towards the front door. You don’t make it however, because a pair of strong arms wrap tightly around your middle, hoisting you up and dragging you back inside the house.

Your boyfriend places you on your feet, spinning you around to face him and in the corner of your eye you see Sarah’s figure strutting towards John B’s room, closing the door quietly but not before sending you an apologetic smile. You were livid.

“What the fuck were you doing with Sarah?!” Your knuckles were turning white from clenching your fist too hard as your teary eyes bore into his with such animosity that it sent a chill down his spine. Your face was red with rage, and when JJ tried to pull you into his chest you snapped.

“Have you been fucking cheating on me with Sarah?? for how fucking long JJ huh?! Answer me!” Your loud voice echoed throughout the chateau, making JJ jump slightly and he took a step back. “No, it's not like that just listen-“

“Don’t lie to me JJ” your body trembled as you sobbed, the anger you perceived vanished and all you felt now was hurt. He tugs you into his firm chest and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, eyes closing shut.

“I- i swear it wasn’t what you thought” the lump in his throat developed into a knot, lungs screaming for oxygen. “Well maybe it was exactly what you thought, but i swear to you that i wouldn’t have let her kiss me” Even in the warm arms of your lover you felt cold, you felt numb but most of all, you felt betrayed. You felt betrayed by Sarah.

A tear involuntarily slid down his cheek at your silence, you felt it land on your collarbone.

The voice in his head screaming, ‘this is it you fucking idiot, she’s gonna leave you’ but the hasty feeling of your cold hands on his cheeks interrupted his thoughts as he fluttered his eyes open. You guide JJ’s head to look at you, your expression softened at the tears welling up in his blue eyes.

“I love you so much JJ, we’ll talk more about this later okay?” You whispered, grabbing the back of his head to pull him into your neck, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and sway him gently. His body slumping in your embrace. “I love you, i would fucking never-“ you shushed him and squeezed his shoulders.

“I know baby, i know”

Two familiar boyish laughs were audibly heard out on the front porch and you silently cursed. John B is back.

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐- 𝚢𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 ):

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj outer banks #fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #rudy pankow imagines #blurbs #angst #jj maybank angst #fluff #jj maybank fluff

[sokkisky]

~baby bird part six~

Want to make a request?: https://forms.gle/NyZgUcqkCPzHRvVn6

Want a short quick post?: https://sokkisky.tumblr.com/ask 

V- Day Poll!: https://forms.gle/EjH69SctgbLmdnsE7 

Rating: SFW (Domestic) 

Pairing: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x Y/N 

Warnings: Slight Cursing 

A/N: AH! I’ve been putting this one off for so long! Hey do you guys want a Valentines Day post? And If you who are you wanting it to be with? Imma create a poll! Thank you in advance if you complete it it’s very helpful for me! (https://forms.gle/EjH69SctgbLmdnsE7 ) 

Today’s request reads like this: 

HAI HAI HAI WAFFLE HERE ALRIGHT SO IMMA REQUEST PART 6 HAWKS X READER let’s make it fluffy though where hawks has to take care of there baby for a day BY HIMSELF

First off hey waffle! I love love love this request! It’s so adorable. Thank you so much for your continued support! <3 Now guys remember to take care of yourselves, be KIND to yourselves and if you want to ever talk, I’m right here! 

~Prequel to Part Four and Five back to when Baby was still a baby~ 

“Are you sure you got it?” 

Keigo laughed, you’d been asking him all day. You had a family emergency and had to leave to fly out of state immediately, which would leave Keigo home alone to watch your baby. He planted a quick kiss on your cheek, holding your baby in his right arm, her big twinkling eyes staring up at you. 

You took a deep breath giving him a quick kiss and planting a quick kiss on her forehead, tickling her tummy a little bit. She giggled happily, her tiny hands outstretched to you. “I love you.” Keigo whispered to you softly. You responded “I love you more,” giving him a quick kiss. You grabbed your suitcase, waving goodbye and leaving. 

Keigo watched the door close, but so did his daughter. As soon as the door shut, she was a wailing mess. He jumped a little and held her close trying to calm her down. “No no no, shh, don’t cry. It’s okay” he said, his index finger rubbing her tummy lightly. 

She only seemed to cry harder. He walked into the living room, bouncing her in his arms, knowing that right now she decided that she wanted her other parent, not him. He sighed, kissing her forehead and began humming. 

He hummed through her singing, walking in circles around the spacious wide living room before gently flapping his wings, hoisting him into the air. He flew very slowly, flying backwards to keep her close to him. He hummed simple tunes and songs in his head, and she slowly began to calm down. Her eyes watched the red majesty of feathers behind him, flapping around her. 

Some of his feathers moved to her cheek, lightly caressing or tickling her. She giggled a bit, her fingers reaching for his face. He leaned his head down a bit. “Oh you like that huh kid?” he said with a smirk. “Yeah daddy is a bit cooler than mommy” he joked. His daughter laughed, probably not understanding a word he said. He moved forward softly landing on his feet. 

“You know what kid?” he said softly, “I think I could really use a bite to eat.” 

~~~

Music blasted through the kitchen as Keigo’s daughter sat up on the counter. Her tiny 7 month old body wiggling about as Keigo pretending to sing into a spatula. She laughed, her head moving back, her body falling with it. A feather caught her before she hit the counter while Keigo cooked and sang to the beat at the same time. 

“I love you baby! And if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, To warm the lonely night” he sang out, loudly calling out the lyrics to the song. His daughter bounced a bit, her arms flailing happily, each bounce inching her closer to the edge of the counter. 

She leaned forward, her head plummeting down head first to the marble floors

“I love you, baby, Trust in me when I say….Oh!-” Keigo turned, his hand catching her right as she fell forward. He hoisted her up, his face worried and concerned. She laughed harder not even realizing how much danger she was in. He put down the spatula holding her under her arms. Her tiny legs kicked happily. His look of worry disappeared when he saw her smiling face. “And let me love you, baby, Let me love you” he sang quietly, bringing her forehead to his. Her hands holding onto his face as she calmed down. 

He pulled her body into his arm, cradling her as he sang gently 

“You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much” 

She looked up at him, her eyes watching his as he sang, picking up a spoon and stirring the food as he did. His golden orbs locked onto her eyes, she really did look like you. He swayed gently with the music, rocking her softly. 

~~~

Feeding her was not so simple. 

She sat in her high chair, turning her head to any food on a spoon that neared her mouth. Keigo tried everything, planes, trains, helicopters. Heck, he even flew above the table while he did it, but no luck. He slumped back in his chair watching her. “You need to eat kiddo, see, look at daddy!” he said holding the spoon of baby food to his mouth, “It’s not bad see,” he took a bite and recoiled in disgust. He almost gagged, why did it taste so bad. 

His daughter laughed a bit, her soft hands hitting on the table of the high chair. Keigo tried to get the taste off his tongue “Yeah fuck that, I wouldn’t eat it either.” he said, picking her up and taking her to the kitchen. He walked in, setting her back on the counter and pulling out the blender. She tried to crawl off the counter but his feathers were there, catching her and lifting her back up. 

She considered this a new game and tried again with the same reaction. Keigo looked at her smirking and continued what he was doing. He pulled peaches and apples from the fridge. He grabbed some broccoli putting it in the microwave to heat up. In the meantime he diced the apples and peaches and put them in the blender, turning it on and blending them. 

His daughter jumped, startled by the loud sudden noise. He turned to face her only to be met with a quivering lip and watering eyes. His face dropped his smile vanishing as he rushed over to her, scooping her up in his arms and holding her head to his chest. He walked out of the kitchen leaving the blender on and took her to the living room. He kissed her temple as she gripped onto his shirt, on the way there. 

He turned Cocomelon on the TV, turning the volume up loud enough to somewhat drown out the sounds of the blender. He moved all the furniture away and set her on a blanket. He watched her for a bit, she smiled, seeing as this was her favorite show, and he rushed back into the kitchen. 

When he finished his homemade baby food he walked out back into the living room. He sat down beside her and took a spoon quickly bringing it to her lips. She tasted it, smiling and turned to him wanting more. He grinned, “Yep, I knew you’d like it.” 

~~~

You walked back into your house the next day, tired and worried. As soon as you walked in you found a bundle of toys all over the place. You sighed looking for Keigo and your daughter. You checked the nursery, no one there. You’re bedroom and bathroom were empty too. You began to worry until you moved into the living room. You smiled, sighing with relief. 

Keigo laid on the ground, surrounded by his own giant wings and a mass amount of toys. Pocoyo played on the TV. His daughter laid on his chest, the both of them were asleep, Keigo snoring softly. 

You couldn’t help but whisper lightly, “Good job baby”

#hawks #hawks x you #hawks x reader #hawks headcanons #domestic hawks #hawks domestic #keigo #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo x y/n #keigo headcanons #keigo takami domestic #my hero academia #my hero headcanons #my hero x reader #my hero fanfic #mha imagines #mha headcanons #mha #hawks boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero x reader #boku no academia #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha hawks #bnha imagines

[alfred-braginsky]

RusAme Secret Santa 2020

My secret santa this year is @grapeautumn​ !!! I hope you like it, Merry Belated Christmas! 

Gift requested:  Human AU Alfred accidentally summons a demon while making Christmas cookies. The problem comes when Alfred just vehemently doesn't believe in demons and just figures some random guy showed up at his house. The demon, Ivan, starts out fairly miffed but warms up to Alfred (Comedy/fluff, any rating)

Shit, shit , shit, shit!

Alfred simply cannot believe he forgot to make the Christmas cookies for the office potluck. Well, he could believe it. It was common knowledge that he was known to have one or two things slip from his mind. There was no way he could go out now at this point in the night. The roads were icy, and it was too snowy for anyone to see in this weather even with their brights on. All he had to make cookies was lingering ingredients in the cabinets. There wasn’t even a recipe he could follow, everything online looked like either too much work or too basic.

He couldn’t exactly serve up ‘banging your head against the wall’ at the party, so what could he do? A sense of clarity washed over him. He would call his friend Francis! After all, his pastries always seemed to kick ass at any event, formal or just your average potluck. Pulling out his phone he dials his number.

 No answer.

 Things seemed bleak. There was no hope. Nothing he could do. He didn’t have an inkling on the seemingly complicated mysteries to baking cookies. Another thought came to him in his time of need. There is no other choice. He was going to have to call Arthur.

Alfred shuddered at the thought of having to call his cousin for baking advice. The first reason being is that he would never hear the end of it from Arthur. He would have that smug smirk on his face as he brings it up every other Christmas with the family in that condescending tone Alfred hates so much.

The second reason being that any recipe he would get from him would probably end up as piles of ash. Arthur isn’t exactly known for his baking. Alfred hoped his improvisation skills would save him as long he had the building blocks for a cookie.

 Swallowing his pride didn’t seem so hard when he was this desperate. As the phone range he immediately regretted his decision. Too late to hang up now, Arthur would know he called.

 “Hm, hello?” the line stopped ringing as Arthur’s sleepy voice answered.

“…”  

Alfred hoped if he didn’t say anything maybe it will just be just be ignored and Alfred can go back to panicking in peace.

“Hello? Alfred? This better not be another prank call; I won’t fall for it twice! I’m hangin---”

“No! Wait…I’m sorry. This isn’t a prank, I swear.”

“What time is it there? Did something happen? Do I need come over there earlier than expected?”

“What? No! I need your help with something, and it doesn’t require you to come over.”

Arthur was silent for a moment out of curiosity.

“What do you want?” with cautious hesitation.

------

Alfred had explained everything. Arthur was as smug as expected. Luckily for Alfred, he didn’t need to write anything down. Arthur stored some of the books he likes to read  at his place for when he comes over for the holidays. An unpublished cookbook that Arthur had written himself was among the box of books.

Alfred went to the hallways closet and quickly located the box. Rifling through the book he was intrigued with a mix of disgust at how many cheesy romance novels were in the box. They all looked the same. His eyes widen as he spotted a book that looked different from all. The book was black and faded. It didn’t seem like Arthur’s style, but it was the only one that was different. Well, maybe if he looked more…

Nah!

There was no time for that. Alfred flipped through the book and was positive there had to be something in there. If it turned out to be Arthur’s diary, that was even better! Maybe he could find some dirt on him.

Speaking of dirt, it seems like that was the first ingredient for the cookies. Weird? But Alfred wasn’t going to question it.

He grabbed his coat and tried to get as much dirt as he could from the frozen ground. He collected all the dirt required in a bowl. Next step was flesh? Okay…this was going a bit off the track of cookies, but if this is what the recipe asked for who was he to question it?

He grabbed chicken nuggets from the freeze and heated them up in the microwave. Once heated up he put them in the dirt and began to mix the ingredients.

Alright, what did he need to do next? His eyes scanned the very old pages and his eyes widen at what the recipe asked for next.

“What the hell, cut a lock of my own hair?!” he exclaimed.

That had to be some kind of health code violation. Alfred is certain that the recipe will call for him to take it out later. The recipe required a few more ingredients that he was able to find nearby. After it was all mixed together, he rolled the nasty concoction out and began using Christmas cookie cutters to make them into holiday themed shapes. He sprinkled them with peppermint for a pop of color.

The final step was to leave them under the light of the full moon. Alfred looked out the window to see the entire moon above him. What luck! With a yawn he set them down with the window open for the full effect of the full moon’s rays. Baking took a lot of work and he deserved to rest. After taking a quick shower, he got into some comfy pajamas, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Alfred woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring in his ear. Letting out a groan he put his phone on snooze and shut his eyes hoping for a few more minutes of sleep. His eyes snapped open as he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs. He jumped out bed and immediately dug through his closet and pulled out a wooden baseball bat.

With caution he tipped toed out of his bedroom and around the corner where the banging and clashing was coming from. Swallowing hard, he gripped the bat tightly, ready to swing at whatever was in his kitchen. What made him think that leaving the window open at night was a good idea?!

Maybe it was a hungry raccoon. Maybe a party girl who went into the wrong house. Or maybe---

A tall man dressed in all black EATING HIS COOKIES!

“What the hell are you doing? Do you know how long it took me to make those!” Alfred shouted as he lowered the bat, his mouth dropping open in disbelief. His eyes held a pang of defeat. He was going to get scolded by his boss for not bringing anything to potluck again. His boss already didn’t like him. God, he was the fucking worst. At least bringing these cookies would have gotten him off his back today. Well, that is if this stranger hadn’t eaten them!

“Watch your tongue mortal.” A sweet yet threatening voice came from the intruder.

“What? Shut up! You’re the one who broke into my house and ate my Christmas cookies!” Alfred was so frustrated with this entire situation. The day started out so poorly he doesn’t know how it could possibly get any worse.

“You made me an offering. I was supposed to eat the offering.” The man had calmly explained. His previous demeanor shaken when the human who summoned him spoke to him in that way. No mortal has spoken to him like that, but he was unable to harm the entity who summoned him so there was nothing he could do about it.

“What offering? Dude, you literally broke into my house and ate the cookies that took me all night to make!”

“I am a demon from the 5th realm of Hell. I would not be in the house of someone like you if I was not called upon.” For the most part, people who summoned knew what they were doing. This man seemed clueless.

“A demon, huh? Where are your wings? Got any horns? You look like someone dug you out of the clearance section at Hot Topic.”

This references completely flew over Ivan’s head. This is taking into account that he could speak any mortal language, but he could not understand what it is the other man was going on about.

“I am in my most simple form to survive in this realm. You added unnecessary things to the offering, I could not come in my true form.”

“So ya can’t even prove it then?” Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow.

There was a moment of silence. Ivan was trapped in this realm with no powers, and no one to call upon. He hung his head in defeat.

“No. I cannot.”

Alfred sighed. Well, there was nothing he could do at this point.

“Alright, you’re gonna come to the grocery store with me and replace the ones you ate. Wait there, I’m gonna get dressed.” Alfred held a calm tone as he noticed things becoming less hectic. He nodded before leaving the kitchen.

Quickly getting dressed and packing his work stuff into his side bag, Alfred comes back to see the man standing in the exact same spot. This man has not moved an inch.

“Are…you alright?” he asks hesitantly, looking at him up and down. His eyes landed on the strange man’s face. Their eyes locked. He had purple eyes. How strange.

Alfred’s face flushes red as he realizes he was staring at him.

“Yes, I am fine. I was told to wait. You on the other hand look feverish? You are quite red.” His tone did not waver.

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine. Let’s just get going, don’t think I forgot about you eating my cookies.”

“I have already explained myself, that was an offering!” The demon becoming increasingly frustrated with the other man. Ivan was at a complete loss as to how this man did not know he had summoned him.

Alfred rolled his eyes and exited his apartment with the other man in tow. They got to his car and Alfred proceeded to get in. The demon looked confused.

“What are you standing around for, get in!”

The man had a look of embarrassment.

“I do not know how.”

Alfred was inclined to believe him, although it was something so unbelievable. However, his tone seemed too meek to say otherwise. He gets out of the car and makes his way over to the other man as snow crunches under his boots.

“See this? It’s a handle you just pull.” His voice laced with patience as he explained the tricky technology that was a car door. He was a faster learner, on the second try he managed to open the door.

Both were seated in the car and Alfred began to drive away.

“By the way you never told me your name. I’m Alfred. Alfred F. Jones!” A bright smile adorned his face as the other had a tint of red on his cheeks. Probably from the cold.

“My name is I̶͖̠͋̿̐́v̸͈̥̗͇̂a̸̺̿́̆̈́͑n̸̞̐͑̑.”

Alfred could not understand the sounds the other man had just made. He blinks in confusion and clears his throat to hide his nerves.

“What?” asking for clarification.

“Ah, I am sorry. My accent is very thick. My name, to translate it into something you would understand, is Ivan.”

Alfred rolled the name around on his tongue. He offers him a kind smile.

“Cool!”

They arrive at the grocery store. The doors had just opened and it was full of elderly people and tired moms. Alfred hopes the lines aren’t too long, he really doesn’t want to be late, who knows what his boss will say.

“C’mon. We’re here for one thing.” Alfred motions Ivan to follow and he does. The grocery store was just like any other.

Full of food, noises, smells, bright lights. Ivan hates this place. The demon follows Alfred a little too closely. The shorter man can practically feel his body pressed against his own. Damn, he was so touch starved.

“Hey buddy, you think you can take a step back or two?” Stopping in his tracks to confront Ivan about the problem.

“I am here to serve you. I cannot do that if I am far.”

“Yeah, I’m not asking for 6 feet, just a few inches.” Alfred massaged his temples, so this was how the day was going to go, huh?

Ivan thought it over and took a step back.

“Very well then.”

“Thank you.”

The grocery store wasn’t as packed as he thought. Although, because it was only a few days before Christmas he wasn’t sure how likely it was that there were going to be any cute cookies left.

Rushing over to the baked goods sections his eyes zeroed in on the last box of Christmas cookies. A smile curled on his lips that fell just as quickly when he spotted an old woman reaching and then grabbing the box of cookies he so desired.

A look of sadness washed over Alfred; a defeated smile replaced his disappointed frown. Ivan watched as his bright energy seemed to vanish. Something inside of him told him that he needed to do something. They haven’t known each other for very long but the way Alfred has been treating him has been different than the other humans who have summoned him in the past.

The demon has some magic left on reserve for emergencies. Seeing the smile wiped off Alfred’s face was considered an emergency.

A dark aura enveloped Ivan and in an instant he appears in front of the now frightened older woman.

“You are not worthy of those cookies. Your mortal hands are unfit to hold possession of the power and responsibility they yield. Put them down and you shall not be harmed.” Ivan’s pitch was lower than Alfred has ever heard. The man just stared in shocked with his jaw dropped as the older woman practically threw them back on the table and went off speeding as fast as she could with her cart.

Ivan immediately went back to his human form. He picked up the mostly intact cookies and brought them to Alfred.

“For you.” He says, moving his hand up to Alfred’s face to shut his open mouth.

Alfred’s eyes were still wide.

“W-Why did you scare her like that? It was important but not that important she probably shit herself!”

“You are very crass. I did it for you.”

Alfred was upset but the action was very endearing. The way the black aura shrouded Ivan was pretty hot. Wait, why was thinking that? He needed to stop.

“Thank you. That was really nice of you. But you can’t scare old ladies like that! Maybe next time, ask her if she’s willing to give them up. You’ve probably traumatized her for life.”

“It does not seem like she had much time left.” Ivan said with complete seriousness. Alfred elbowed Ivan trying not to laugh.

“Alright! Let’s go pay for this bad boy.”

“Why must we pay? We fought for this, we won. We deserve to keep the spoils.”

“That’s not how it works, big guy.” Alfred claps the taller man on the shoulder as he leads them to the cash register.

“By the way. You gotta show me that magic trick you did earlier with the old lady.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah! Like did you have some smoke bombs? A voice changer?” Alfred’s eyes sparkle never taking his eyes off Ivan as he pays.

“I am a demon.”

“I see. A magician never reveals his secrets.” Alfred nods in understanding. “Artie’s the same way! He never thought we could see him practicing. But he wore this goofy cape everywhere.”

They talk as they make their way back to the car. Ivan opens the passenger door like a pro. The cookies seated safely on Ivan’s lap as they continue to talk.

“Artie?” he asks, the name tumbling clumsily on his lips.

“Yeah! My cousin Arthur. Yeah! He’s the one I got the book from that had the recipe of the cookies you ate.”

Ivan felt like he was talking to a brick wall. Alfred seemed nice enough, but he simply cannot believe that he is a demon and that Alfred summoned him. He needed to save his strength and peace of mind and just played along.

“Come with me to the office Christmas party? We get a plus one and since you’re already with me, and since we’re already on our way.”

“Yes.” There were too many things in Alfred’s sentence that flew over his head and it was just easier to accept them. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.

They park by a plain building with grey brick, the parking lot covered in the fresh snow that was falling. Getting out of the car, Ivan vowed to protect these Christmas cookies with his life. He would ensure their safety until they arrived at their destination: The Break Room.

Alfred pressed a button, and they entered the elevator. He saw Ivan flinch and took his hand to calm him. Ivan’s shoulders dropped as he took a breath; he was grateful for the hand. The hand was soft and warm against his. The elevator bell dinged, and Alfred let go much to Ivan’s disappointment. Both of them stepped out and into Alfred’s workplace.

The shorter man greeted a few of his co-workers as he wore a friendly smile making his way over to the break room. His boss was there already, telling a story clearly no one wanted to hear.

“Look who made it on time for once, huh?” As he laughed. Ivan saw Alfred twitch and the demon narrowed his eyes at the small man. The party had plenty of treats and goodies. With more than enough cookies.

“Oh, I thought you asked me to get the cookies?” Alfred asked through gritted teeth.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I figured you wouldn’t so I asked Martina to bake some instead. Sorry, completely slipped my mind.” Alfred wanted to kill him. He has never wanted to murder someone so badly.

“I mean you’re not exactly the brightest, which is fine, we all have our strengths.”

Ivan has no clue what is happening, but he knows Alfred is not as stupid or forgetful as this man is making him seem. From what he has seen Alfred is kind, generous, and patient. Qualities he does not see from most mortals.

“Just let this be a lesson for ya, okay?” walking over to Alfred and putting a hand on his shoulder. Alfred was visibly uncomfortable. Ivan snapped. It didn’t matter if it used up the last of his power in getting home. The black aura returned along with blue flames. Horns protruded from his head as dark wings ripped through the back of his shirt. Wings that expanded the entire length of the break room.

“How dare you say such things when you are nothing but a miserable pile of waste. You are a pitiful excuse for a mortal. You are a worm beneath my feet and the feet of the one who summoned me.”

Ivan stomps over to the shaking manager and effortlessly picks the man up by the throat. The manager struggles in his grip. The employees gasp and watch with shocked expressions.

“You will show some respect and reverence to those who deserve it since you are only the dirt under my foot.” Ivan drops the man with a thud and the manager wriggles away and hides behind the other employees. Alfred stands tall as Ivan turns to him and reverts to his human form. Ivan lets out a heavy sigh as Alfred wraps his arms around the other man and kisses him. Ivan doesn’t know what this means but his human form seems to know instinctively to kiss back.

They break it and Ivan sweeps Alfred off his feet and picks him up bridal style. Alfred laughs and wraps his arms around his neck. Ivan goes to leave but Alfred stops him for a moment.

“Also. I quit. Merry Christmas, bitch!”

#rusame secret santa 2020 #rusame #aph russia #aph america #christmas #aph #my shit

[ffangirlingsince2001]

End of the Tunnel: V

George Weasley x Reader

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: (future as well as present) suicidal thoughts, smut, angst, fluff, depression,  attempted SUICIDE, self harm, torture, mentions of torture

Masterlist

***

Hannah had never been so nervous. She was wringing her hands, wearing a whole in their kitchen floor as she waited for George to be ready. She smoothed her dress for the thousandth time and glanced at her reflection in the microwave. Nothing was out of place, except for her, she was going to be ridiculously out of place.

“Ready to go?” he asked coming out of the bathroom. Hannah whirled around, terror written across every inch of her face. “Are you alright,” he all but laughed, rushing to her side.

“No,” she gasped, “They’re going to hate me.”

“No one is going to hate you, in fact my dad might want to adopt you the moment you meet,” he laughed but she wasn’t convinced. “Hannah, I’m telling you, it’ll be fine. You’ve been wizards before.”

“Not your family.”

“You know Ron and Hermione; they’ll both be there.” That settled her nerves a bit, but she was still shaking from head to toe. He rubbed her shoulder before kissing her forehead. “Shall we go?”

“Fine, but if they hate me you must promise you won’t abandon me.”

“They’re not going to hate you, and I most certainly am not going to abandon you.” She sighed and he took her hand. “You look lovely by the way, I love this dress,” he said twirling her around a bit to calm her nerves, admiring the red skirt of the dress that flowed away from her waist.

“Thank you,” she laughed when he caught her in his arms.

“Ready?” She nodded and with a quick wink he apparated the pair to just outside the Burrow.

Her eyes were wide with delight at the sight, and all the little creatures running around the garden.

“It’s magnificent! Even if they hate me I might have to sneak back,” she gasped and he rolled his eyes.

“They’re not going to hate you,” he reminded her once more, but she wasn’t having it. She simply shooed him away and took another deep breath.

“Lead the way,” she finally managed to say, and he did so, hand on the small of her back.  He pushed open the door and chaos ensued. Twelve people were darting around the kitchen, two of them no more than tiny children held in the arms of their keepers. When the door closed another wave of anxiety washed over her. Twelve very capable wizards were dancing around this kitchen and she was nothing but an insignificant spot in their room.

“Hannah,” Hermione called over the masses, rushing towards her. The moment she was in Hermione’s hands, George disappeared into the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were coming to dinner, I would have insisted we apparate together.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Hannah said breathlessly, looking around at the small room. “It’s a bit much.”

“Oh yes. It’s a large crowd for your first day. Almost everyone decided to show up. Only Fleur’s missing I think. I wasn’t even aware George was coming today, it’s been ages since we’ve seen him around here.”

“Oh.”

“Shall I show you around?” Hannah almost dropped with relief.

“Yes, please, before we have to sit down,” she managed to stutter, and Hermione offered her a soft smile before drawing her into the crowd.

“Charlie, this is Hannah,” Hermione began before assuring her that Charlie was certainly the most relaxed of the bunch.

“Nice t’ meet yah.”

“You too, Charlie.”

“How’d they manage to get yah in here on this fine Sunday morning?”

“She’s George’s.”

“Really? And how’d yah meet?”

“My bar actually.”

“Not school?”

“Unless he was secretly attending muggle school, I don’t think so,” she laughed, trying to slip the fact into the conversation as naturally as she could.  She just wanted to see how he would react.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” he laughed and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione dragged her away, towards another corner where Ginny and Harry were laughing between themselves.

“And this Harry and Ginny, they’re deeply in love,” Hermione informed her just out of earshot.

“Hermione,” Harry greeted before flanking at the girl standing at her side, “And you must be Hannah. Ron and Hermione mentioned you last week at lunch. How are you and George doing?”

“Uh, uh, we’re good. I didn’t know anyone knew,” Hannah managed to say.

“Oh, you know Ronald, he can’t keep anything to himself,” Ginny laughed, “Honestly, I’m glad George found someone, he just seemed so sad.”

“Well, I don’t fix that,” Hannah whispered, glancing at George was having a solemn conversation with another one of his brothers.

“Yes, you do,” Ginny said, “He wouldn’t even think about coming on Sunday’s before you, the last time was… a nightmare.”

“Oh, what happened?” Hannah asked but the group grew quiet.

“Just know Sunday dinner didn’t happen the next week. It was-.”

“Supper time,” the woman at the center of it all announced and Hannah darted towards George as quickly as she could, not wanting to get sat by some stranger who was going to question her about every little thing. She grabbed his hand through the crowd, and he pulled her to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“How goes it?” he whispered, and she shrugged.

“They haven’t thrown me out yet.”

“And they won’t.” Hannah rolled her eyes before sitting beside him, sliding her chair as close to George’s as she could.

“Relax, it’s just family dinner.”

“What happened at the last one you went to?” she asked softly and he tensed.

“Let’s not talk about it,” he replied gruffly and she nodded, setting a small reminder for herself to bug him later. Eventually the group settled around the table, not quite silent but certainly more contained than before. It was a large table, the largest one she had ever sat at and they all looked so warm, at least to one another. He took her hand beneath the table and she leaned in. It was that moment that his mother took notice of the uncommon couple.

“George,” she gasped staring with wide eyes at the pair, “Who is this?”

“I’d like you to meet Hannah.” All eyes turned to her and she wished the chair would swallow her up. She offered a small wave.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone? Were you in the same year at school?” she asked and like an angel sent from above, Charlie interrupted her.

“Mum, interrogate them later, I’m starving,” he said and if she hadn’t been dating George she would have kissed him, right there. Their mum narrowed her eyes but returned her eyes to the food. Simultaneously, the two looked at Charlie and offered him grateful smiles.

The food was delicious. She had never eaten anything so wonderful, except of course her own mother’s. It was cooked with love and tenderness and she could feel it in every bite.

“So, Hannah, how is business?” Hermione, who had thankfully sat on the other side of her, asked.

“Awesome actually, the wizarding side of business has definitely increased since the war and George putting up the flyer really help.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yes, it is. You should come by sometime, and Ron, of course.”

“Where do you work?” his mum asked from across the table.

“I own a bar, along the edge of London.”

“Oh? And how old are you?”

“Mum!” George snapped but Hannah ran her hand along his thigh.

“Nineteen, twenty in June, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Molly, and that seems a but young to own a bar.”

“It was inherited. Tragically, during your war.”

“Our war?”

“I guess it can be mine too, seeing as we were all affected by it, even us muggles,” she said, choking softly on the word. The table seemed to grow quieter, almost deathly silent at the proclamation.

“I didn’t know you were a muggle.”

“Since birth.”

“Well, Dad, make sure you talk this one,” Bill called to his father and Arthur glanced up from his meal, a quizzical look on his face.

“Huh?” The table burst into laughter and Hannah eased into relaxation.

The rest of the evening had all gone by in a blur. Hannah had met the whole family, a couple times over, and promised Arthur she would answer everyone of his questions. Molly had interrogated them, just as promised. She was forced to answer everything from her favorite subject in school, to her favorite color, to the size of her own family. At the end of the day it hadn’t been nearly as awful as she had predicted.

But now it was George’s turn to be nervous.

“I’m a wizard, Hannah, Merlin’s beard they’re going to be shocked.”

“Weren’t you just telling me last week that there wasn’t anything to worry about?” she laughed, their arms linked together as they walked down the street. “They’ve met wizards before.”

“But you’ve never dated one before,” he yelled before turning to her quickly, “Right?”

“No, I’ve never dated one before you, but I do have other friends, speaking of we’ve been invited to lunch on Wednesday with a wizard friend of mine and his girlfriend.”

“Yes, yes, that’s fine, it’s today that I’m worried about.” Hannah rolled her eyes.

“If anything you can take comfort in the fact that my dad can’t curse you if he doesn’t like you. Anyhow, it’s my brother you need to impress.”

“Not helpful,” he said through clenched teeth and she laughed again, coming to a stop in front of a rather large house. “And of course, you’re rich.”

“What?”

“You’re rich, didn’t think to mention that before we got here?”

“I was testing you, to see if you’re a gold digger,” she joked and he elbowed her.

“Not funny, what fork am I supposed to use?”

“The one by the plate…” He groaned but she took his hands in hers, staring up at him with understanding eyes. “George, look at me, you’re going to be fine. I love you, and therefore, they’ll love you.” With that she knocked on the door, sending him a comforting smile.

The door swung open and a blonde woman beamed at them.

“Hannah’s here,” she called, pulling the girl into her arms.

“Caroline!” Hannah greeted, returning the hug full heartedly.

“And who is this?” she asked, eyes running over George with a smirk.

“George, meet Caroline, my baby sister.”

“Baby, please, a year does not constitute baby. Please, come in.” The couple stepped through the threshold and George couldn’t help but stare at the large paintings and enormous chandeliers. Another couple came out of the dining room and George’s stomach churned once again. They were dressed very nicely, and suddenly his nicest pair of slacks didn’t feel nice at all.

“Hannah,” the woman gasped, pulling her daughter into her arms before turning to George and offering him the same warm welcome. He was surprised to be completely honest, but he awkwardly returned it before shaking her father’s hand.

“Where’s Henry?” Hannah asked peering around.

“He’ll be in a bit later. Now George, I hope you don’t mind but we’ve forgone the dining room for the patio, if that’s alright with you?”

“Oh of course, Mrs. Gladdis.”

“Do hear that, Mrs. Gladdis, call me Diana, and this my husband, Peter.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he managed as Diana dragged both him and Hannah through another grand hall and into the backyard. Fairy lights were hung on every banister and burgers were grilling in the corner. It smelled divine, but he was mostly glad that he was outside.

He answered question after question, mostly from Caroline and Mrs. Gladdis, while he endured an interested stare from her father. It was going smoothly, or as smooth as meeting the parents could, until the front door slammed shut again.

“Honey, I’m home,” came a call from the kitchen and suddenly Hannah was gone, running towards the voice. George almost stood to follow but Caroline held him to his chair.

“Henry,” she cried, not even stopping when she rammed her shoulder into a pillar.

“I wouldn’t risk it, she’s his absolute pet and I wouldn’t get in the way of their reunion,” she said with an eye roll. “I mean, impressing my dad is nothing compared to Henry.”

“Oh, why’s that?” he asked nervously.

“Well, let’s just say dad never beat up on her boyfriends that didn’t pass.” George swallowed, and then again when they walked in together. Henry had taken after her father. While George was a bit taller, he certainly wasn’t as broad.

“Henry, you must meet George,” she gushed, dragging him towards the table. George stood, shaking his hand as he went. His grip was tight but friendly, it seemed he would not meet the same fate as the boys Caroline had mentioned quite yet.

“Pleasure, to meet you Henry.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Hannah’s told me a lot about you.”

“Hopefully good things,” he chuckled nervously and Henry gave him smirk that spoke in volumes, they would talk later, when he could be properly threatened. Hannah watched the exchange, eyes wide before she leapt from Henry’s side to George’s. Henry seemed a bit surprised, but his smile was suddenly softer.

“Of course. Now, mum, shall we eat?”

Dinner proceeded without many incidents. Henry only caught their hands clasped beneath the table, and after a swift kick from Hannah, he left the matter alone. It was the moments after dinner and the friendly laughter, when the women went inside to clean up that George set up his guard.

“She’s absolutely smitten with you,” her father said and George nodded.

“And I with her.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” he said before following his wife into the kitchen. Now, it was just him and Henry.

“She is smitten. And you make her happy.”

“I hope so, she makes me happy.”

“I just hope it stays that way.”

“Me too.”

“Yes, for both of your sake, I hope it does. I love Hannah, and I would do anything to keep her safe. And the fact you’re a wizard means nothing to me.” George nearly choked.

“You know?”

“Of course, I told you she told me about you. We all know, it’s just not that big of a concern. My only concern is her happiness, and as I said before, for now, that’s you.” George swallowed nervously, prepared to kiss Hannah right there when she came back onto the patio and sat close to him, smiling warmly.

The rest of the night went of without a hitch and it wasn’t until later that night, as they were climbing into bed that George’s mind finally relaxed enough to remember their supposed double date later that week.

“Hey Hannah?”

“Hmm?”

“Who’s that wizard friend of yours, I might know him.”

“You did go to school together; he was a couple years younger though I think. Draco Malfoy.”

“Oh,” he said before closing his eyes, pulling him close. It was only a few seconds later that the name registered and he shot up, startling Hannah in the process. “What!”

#george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #end of the tunnel

[nighthaikyuu]

can’t | i.hajime x reader x o.tooru

pairing: iwaizumi hajime + best-friend! reader + oikawa tooru

word count: 1.5k

genre: angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers! au 

warnings: none

parts: 01 | 02 | 03 | tbc

“I can’t. You know I can’t Y/N.”

Biting down on your lip, you let out a soft sigh, “Hajime—”

“Nothing you say will change my mind Y/N. You know I can’t do that to Tooru.”

At that, your fists clenched at your sides. Looking up at him, eyes glistening with tears, you scoffed, “Can’t do that to Tooru?! But you can do it to me? To yourself?!”

Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched before he said lowly, “I don’t know where you heard the idea that I return your feelings, but that is not the case. You are and always will be only my best friend and that will not change—”

“I like her but I won’t do anything about it. Because I simply can’t,” you whispered, the words falling past your lips as you watched Iwaizumi stiffen, his hard eyes softening slightly as you moved closer towards him.

“Isn’t that what you said to Mattsun? That night in the club room?” you asked, your voice rising with each question, “Tell me Hajime! Isn’t that what you sai—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Iwaizumi yelled sharply, his sudden shift in tone catching you off guard. Running his hands through his hair, you heard him let out a soft cry of frustration before he turned around, his back facing you.

“Hajime—” you started weakly.

“What I said doesn’t matter, Y/N.” he whispered softly, “If you heard me that night, then you should know that I still stand by what I said. I can’t do that to Tooru.”  

The words that remained at the tip of your tongue, dissipated. As Iwaizumi’s words rang through your head, you felt your entire body become numb as you stood there, still as stone, your empty eyes staring at the ground beneath you.

Turning back to face you, Iwaizumi’s eyes softened as he saw the tears stream down your flushed, rosy cheeks. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of you, his fingers cupping your cheeks as they softly brushed the tears away.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really am—”

“Don’t,” your voice cracked as you choked back a sob, brushing his hands away,

Removing yourself from his grasp, the instant your body left his touch you felt your heart aching to lunge back for more. But instead, you took in a shaky breath and looked back up at him, trying to muster up every bit of strength in you possible.

“Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

Despite what you had hoped for, you and Iwaizumi’s relationship never went back to normal.

You thought it would be simple, you thought you could get over it. After all, the two of you were best friends before everything had happened. But you should’ve known better. Because the reason you were so close was the exact reason why things couldn’t go back to normal.

“Y/N!”

Turning around, you were met with a smiling Oikawa who was waving at you from the entrance to your classroom. Beside him stood Iwaizumi, who merely looked at you with a stoic expression, completely void of any emotion.

Waving back, you gave Oikawa a soft smile in return as you walked up to them, every step feeling like a million pounds.

“Hey guys! What’s up?” you greeted both of them, however, your gaze only remained on Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan and I are planning on having a movie night over at my place tonight. Do you wanna come?” Oikawa asked, however just as the words left his mouth you saw Iwaizumi immediately frown, “I thought you said it was just going to be us.”

Rolling his eyes, Oikawa gently shoved Iwaizumi before saying, “This is Y/N. She’s our best friend too, stupid. Who cares?” Looking back at you, he added with a pout, “Plus, I haven’t seen you in a while because of exams. I missed you.”

You knew Oikawa was pretending, pretending like the way he spoke to you was how he did with everyone else. But ever since you overheard his confession about you to Iwazumi, you knew he actually meant every word he said to you.

And it broke your heart.

“I missed you too, Tooru,” you said, giving him a pat on his shoulder, hoping he received the message in the most friendly way possible. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on.

Not when you were in love with the guy standing right next to him.

Placing the popcorn in the microwave, you closed the door and set the cooking time before turning around and looking at the clock, your brows furrowing at the time.  

“Tooru? When’s Hajime coming?” you asked as you made your way out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Poking his head over the couch, you saw him check his phone before humming, “I don’t know? He should be here by now...”

“Has he texted you?”

Shaking his head, Oikawa replied, “Nope, he hasn’t said anything.”

“Oh well, even if he doesn’t come it doesn’t matter.” Oikawa said with a shrug before throwing you a playful look, “The better two of the trio is here together anyway.”

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you chuckled before hearing the microwave beep in this kitchen. Going back to get the popcorn, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of disappointment hit you when you realized that Iwaizumi probably didn’t come because  Oikawa had invited you. Quickly, your feelings of disappointment were replaced with irritation—you guys were still best friends. Was he just going to avoid you forever?

Gripping onto the bowls tightly, you took in a deep breath before walking back out into the living room. Making your way around the couch, you plopped down next to Oikawa before handing him his bowl.

“Mm, smells absolutely amazing. And oh, not burnt.” Oikawa sang.

Smacking him with the nearest pillow, you scowled, “It was one time Tooru!”

“Isn’t once enough? You almost burned down my house. Even though my mom loves you, she almost killed you for the smell of burnt popcorn—”

Groaning, you said, “I know, don’t remind me.”

Looking at the mortified look on your face as you remembered that night years ago, Oikawa laughed as he saw you grimace in memory.

“Alright, Ms. Burnt Popcorn, what do you wanna watch?”

//

Watching as your chest rose with each and every exhale, your soft breaths slowly started to even out. Oikawa’s eyes traced your face, from the strands of your hair splayed across your face down to your rosy, plush lips that were parted. As thoughts of you consumed him, before he could realize it, his face was close to yours, just a few inches away when his heart suddenly lept out of his chest.

Pulling back from your sleeping figure, Oikawa nervously cleared his throat, quickly looking back towards the TV, as he felt his heart race in his chest.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, as he ran his hands through his hair. Grabbing the TV remote, he paused the movie in front of him as he sat there in silence, the only sound coming from your soft breaths and the fan above.

Sighing, his eyes fell back upon you again. The peaceful look on your face brought a sense of ease to his heart

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said in a small whisper, yet his lips tilted upward into a smile.

A couple silent seconds passed before Oikawa spoke again, “I don’t know what to do, honestly. I want to tell you, but I’m afraid of ruining everything if I do.” Gripping the cloth of the sofa beneath him, he continued with an empty chuckle,” I have a pretty good feeling that you don’t see me the way I do Y/N. But I still can’t help it, ya know?”

With that, Oikawa continued to pour out his heart to you. Little did he know, you had woken up a while ago but were too afraid to move—afraid to see the horror on Oikawa’s face when he’d realize you heard everything he said. So you waited. Patiently as you heart broke, piece by piece with every passing second as you heard Oikawa talk about you. You cursed every spiritual and godly being in the world for not making you fall for him—you honestly tried, but no matter what, you couldn’t see Oikawa as anything more in your life besides your most beloved best friend.

And since the moment Iwaizumi took hold of your heart, nobody else has been able to replace it.

[to be continued]

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