#too smart for my casual viewing tastes

[fandomaya]

grant me this wish, sweetheart

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Reader

CW: loads of fluff, basic dinner date with rich man Nanami, both reader and Nanami being lovesick, Nanami loves to spoil and take care of reader, no gendered terms used, but reader wears a dress and a pair of earrings, mentions of food and wine.

WC: 1.4K+

The view is so beautiful from the 32nd floor, and you have to admit this time and again that your boyfriend has an impeccable taste when it comes to finer things in life. It is not surprising given how successful and self-made Kento Nanami is. Having a wide array of experiences and attaining an unmatched sense of maturity, being in a relationship with him just makes you want to learn more about life through his comforting presence and influence.

Your endless gaze towards the city view is broken when the waiter comes with a bottle of wine. You do not care to read the label or anything because you know Kento only chooses the best. Moreover, he told you to not worry about anything because as always he says he gets the “stress-relief” from spending time with you and taking care of you This feeling of relying on someone else may have felt bizarre when Kento wasn’t in your life, but now it is therapeutic to trust him and not overthink in his company.

Shifting your focus from the sound of wine being poured to your glass, you thank the waiter, and then you see Kento is resting his head on his palm and staring at you with such a deep longing gaze as if he is soaking up all of you as much as he could. So much love from his mellow gaze often makes you shy away, choosing to hide your blush while sipping wine, hoping the red of the liquid can excuse the redness in your demeanor.

“Kento you know there is an amazing view right beside you? You can spare a few glances there too”, you say before popping a cherry tomato in your mouth.

Pricking a pasta shell on his fork, he just shrugs and casually smirks, “why would I look anywhere else when the best view is right in front of me?”

Your eyes were wide, and you never had any apt response to whenever Kento appreciated you with his smooth voice and soft yet determined gaze.

Refocusing on the man in front of you, you see him shuffle and place an elegant box in front of you. As a reflex action, you end up hiding your face in your soft hands because there is one thing that Kento doesn’t understand no matter how smart he is, that his company and lovely attention towards you is enough. But Kento finds his joy in spending his material wealth on your well-being and upkeep. Unlike you, he feels it's greater than any investment and business he has ever made because the results are beyond any monetary gains.

“Kento what is this again? You already gifted me this dress today, and you told me that no matter what I cannot request to split the bill but now another gift, and it looks so expensive! Kento this is really unnecessary.”

Your boyfriend being a man of few words just heaves a sigh and opens the box and pushes it towards you, “how is it? I think this emerald bracelet would suit you so much. Go on, love, try it on.”

Still resilient in your stance, keeping your arms crossed, you determinedly reply, “Kento please don’t deviate from the issue. You have already done so much for me and I appreciate your sentiments as well as really grateful to have you as my partner, but this bracelet was not needed right now.”

Kento listened to you carefully only to glance down for a second and abruptly pushed his chair backward. Did you anger him? Maybe you should have accepted his gift instead of being so nagging, but you just wanted him to be careful with his spending and as his well-wisher you just wanted him to be a tad bit careful about finances. You know that he is financially abundant and, way more capable and mature than you, but it gets hard for you to just keep on taking from him. 

In between your thoughts, you suddenly see him lift his chair with the left hand and place it beside your chair, not caring what some of the other patrons in the restaurant are thinking of such a seemingly bizarre activity in a classy establishment. But you had to be in awe of the silent strength that your boyfriend possessed. He sits down again, his calloused yet comforting hands goes to your supple cheek, caressing them in a manner that makes you lean into his touch. Closing your eyes and exhaling his name in a quiet plea, since you know you can never win against him on such matters, where he is determined in showering you with love in all possible ways and beyond, known to mankind. 

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and admiring the sleek gold earrings that he had chosen for you on a business trip to Paris, a couple of years back. He trails his hand down your neck to your soft arms and raises your hand to kiss your knuckles with so much tenderness that it makes all your inhibitions melt away and warm your heart. He trails his lips towards your wrist, and the throbbing pulse underneath calms him down in an unusual manner. The way he looks up at you with those tired eyes that have found a shelter in your eyes, with so much of devotion that it seems that the time has stopped, as if it is just the two of you in this whole wide world and that is just simply enough.

Kento turns to his side, to pull out the bracelet from the open box, wraps the cold metal on your delicate yet capable wrists and admires the green jewels on your skin. Pulling you towards him and maintaining his signature eye contact that signifies his determination, he just says, “This simple bracelet is not about whether it is needed or not. It is about wishes. I wish to see you wearing this. It is not a hard wish to grant to an old man like me, is it now?”

You couldn’t help but frown a little and burst out in a chuckle, and end up lightly hitting his chest. 

“Kento you are hardly a few years older than me! Stop being so prematurely geriatric”

“Darling, a decade and more doesn’t count as a few years”

“Doesn’t matter because we are together and time is an illusion.” you retort with a huff, only to wrap your arms around him to hide your face in his neck and whisper a thank you on his skin.

Kento’s strong arms encircle your waist and like always he instinctively rubs your back, and also admires the faint reflection on the window panes, where you look good in his arms in any possible way and angle, that keeps the rare smile on his face intact.

Pulling away from his neck, you look at him, admiring his features, which seem to get more attractive with every day. Or maybe you are just too lovesick. Or maybe he is indeed like the wine you had tonight, where he gets better with aging. 

“I thought of getting you a ring, but I can’t entertain the possibility of getting rejected in a damn restaurant.” Kento had to say this while breaking your reverie.

At that moment you swear your boyfriend is sometimes too blunt that makes him adorably stupid. 

“Kento you want to know something about yourself?” you said while plastering a forced smile full of sarcasm on your face. 

He continues rubbing your sides and cocks his head to the side, curious to know what you have to say. 

"You are probably the first person who reveals their proposal plans to their partner. I think you are mingling with Gojo too much."

"My love, I am a simple man. A person like you who is perfection personified does make me worry a little about your answer." 

You are left speechless again, given how sincere Kento is with his intentions, and you almost want to run away because your heart beats too fast and is about to break free from your chest, but you have to regain your composure because Kento cannot always have the upper hand. 

"Hmm, I may be a bit careful about money, but I won't accept a proposal without a nice ring from my future husband…" looking away you shyly mumble, “also I am not stupid to reject the best person in the world”

Kento being attentive as ever does catch your words. Smiling gently, he makes your head shift towards him and like always he just looks at your eyes lovingly while caressing the apple of your cheeks, before he closes the distance between you two and pours his affection when his lips meet yours, to conclude this beautiful night.

A/N: This was in my drafts for so long and I finally got the motivation to finish it. I don't think it's that good, but I swear it was much better in my head ;) Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated <3

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami fluff

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Contest Story: What Once Was

Heya! This is my entry into the writing contest being held by @athena-anna-rose! It's a short story involving some characters from my book, Fate's Crystal Majesty, and hints at some of the events to come. I recommend reading it in the original document HERE, because Tumblr breaks everything and doesn't allow for other fonts (and also removed every ounce of formatting in the story).

I put a lot of thought into what scenes to show, so I hope you find the story interesting!

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"I've been meaning to say this for a while," said a voice, light and playful like a bell. "...But you really are pretty cute when you're lost in a good story, mister Crown Prince!"

Solaris Trinidad Coronis nearly slammed his book closed, face turning red as his head whipped around. There, standing behind him, was a young mage— a student at the nearby university, and a familiar one. Her blonde hair and aquamarine eyes would have been a dead giveaway, even if her uniquely folded ears didn't signal her identity and status. A human-Rorvan hybrid, with strong magic and eyes nearly as mesmerizing as his own, could only be one person.

"O-oh, you're… Lunari Nitewing, correct? I believe I've seen you around…" He asked, adjusting his glasses, doing his best to ignore her commentary on him and hoping the magic in his eyes hadn't flared up. He nearly winced as he glanced at the nearby clock, suddenly noticing the time. The pups would probably tease him again for staying out so late...

The young half-Rorvan nodded, grinning. "Yes, your highness. But I'm surprised you remembered my name… They say you spend too much time with your head hidden in these books to notice much, and I'll admit, this library is where I usually end up seeing you."

He sniffed, wolf ears giving a disdainful twitch as he collected his studying materials. "Well 'they' don't seem to know the value of being well-read… but at least they're smart enough not to insult me to my face, I guess…" Though… he thought wryly, I'd have to be blind not to notice the most magical young woman on the planet. "...You ought not to listen to gossip, Miss Nitewing. You have a lot of talent."

"I find your studious nature endearing, actually!" The girl giggled. He suddenly realized how petite she was as she sat on the table, her eyes just barely higher than his were. "Makes you seem like a normal person."

"You'll find that I am a normal person, Miss Nitewing," he said, voice even. "I do what I can to make sure that being a prince doesn't get in the way of being a good citizen… or parent, though I can't say I'm doing a stellar job at the moment. I ended up getting lost in my reasearch."

He stood then, gathering his books in his arms, then gave the girl another quick once-over. Sky blue Rorvan-inspired blouse over white pants, dark boots, a charming blue headband to match her top, tasteful floral scented oils along her pulse points… she looked a bit too nice for a trip to the library.

Is she… going out with someone?

He gave a polite cough. "If you're planning to meet someone, you shouldn't be chatting me up… someone might get the wrong idea if you speak to me."

She smiled almost pointedly. "Oh, I don't know if I'm going out yet… the guy I like doesn't seem to notice me as much as he thinks he does. I'm actually here to talk him into going to dinner with me."

Solaris blinked, suddenly a little surprised, and annoyed on her behalf. What kind of idiot wouldn't notice her? "Oh… that's too bad. Someone as interesting as you should be at the top of anyone's list. Are you meeting him here?"

The young woman giggled. "Actually, he's already here. I'm just running a social experiment to see how long it takes him to notice."

Prince Solaris looked around. His lanky build let him have a good view of most places, and from where he was standing… this floor of the library seemed empty, aside from himself and the young mage that still sat rather casually on the table.

I don't see…?

"You know…" she started, and when he looked down at her he found that her eyes almost seemed to twinkle in the artificial light of the nearby reading lamps. "...I've been saving up for this date for nearly a month, so it'll be a shame if he turns me down."

Solaris blinked, noticing a hint of humor in Lunari's eyes, but chivalry won out over his ability to think past the sudden twinge of his heart. "That is quite a power move on your part, Miss Nitewing… but I must say, any man that forces you to pay for him as well as you, isn't worth your time. Call me old-fashioned, but a first date should be a meeting of equals."

She giggled, and he suddenly twitched to adjust his glasses. "If it were a normal man, I'd agree… but I'm afraid that I'm quite fond of this poor soul. He and I haven't talked much, but…" she said, looking up at him, eyes sparkling in shades of blue. "The medium of my magic is Shadow… and shadows tend to talk. This particular man's shadow says he's lonely, and a bit tired from all the stress he's been under after an awkward breakup. I decided it might be nice to treat him and his children to something fun. Maybe ice cream, since I know he has a thing for sweets."

Solaris suddenly blushed. Children? She has eyes for someone with kids? That would make him probably as old as… probably a lot like… and he enjoys ice cream like…

"...Oh."

"I've been watching this man from afar…" she confided, looking almost shy, as if watching the dots connect in Solaris' head while his ears twitched in embarrassment. "I don't think he really noticed. I've been trying not to scare him off, you see, since he's the type who tends to overthink things. I didn't want him to think that I was just approaching out of the blue or that I wanted something I shouldn't… but I didn't quite know how to start a real conversation with such a dignified gentleman."

The prince looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "...What will you do if he declines?"

"Probably just try again tomorrow. I'm very persistent!"

"And you don't mind that he… has children?"

"Not at all!" She said, her voice taking on an almost teasing note. "There's no shame in having loved before, in my opinion."

Solaris swallowed, trying to ease his dry throat. Looking out at the light beyond the library's windows steadied him. "You know… if you decide to go through with this, I can't promise any sort of happiness, or peace. You're already a bit of a celebrity… and this will only make it worse. A student mage really shouldn't go chasing trouble."

But he suddenly found that bright, blue-eyed young woman standing in front of him, looking up at him with an almost cocky grin. "Well, your highness, you'll be pleased to know that I'm a very stubborn person, and I don't often take 'no' as an answer."

For a split second, the older man allowed his own magic to activate, taking in and reading the light that sparkled in Lunari Nitewing's eyes. There was no deceit, or greed, hidden in those scattered points of blue. Her hidden light held bravery, and wit. An unwavering sense of commitment. A hunger to belong, but no lack of self-love. And above all, there was a note of trust. As if she already knew the outcome of this conversation before he had even known to look up from his books.

"... I refuse to let you pay, Miss Nitewing."

She laughed, the sound as gentle and radiant as a song. "And I refuse to let you turn down the offer. I will buy your kids ice cream, whether you think I should or not!"

Solaris sighed, grinning in spite of himself as he offered the young woman his hand. "Then I'll just have to pay for our second date."

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"Luna! I knew Father was taking us to see you again!"

Lunari laughed, suddenly finding herself in the tight embrace of Solaris' second-oldest son. She and the older prince had been "dating" for more than a few years, now, and the children had really warmed up to her. "It's good to see you too, Crowlyn," she said, smiling down at the boy. "Seeing your faces makes the exams I finished today totally worth it."

The elder son, Rolliore, came up next, grinning wildly, while Solaris' daughter Kay'Ori, Crowlyn's twin, brought up the rear. The child hugging her let go as quickly as he latched on, grinning. "I bet you aced every test!"

"We'll see," she giggled, smiling at the other two as well, then looking around. "Hmmm… where is his highness? He doesn't usually let you pups run wild."

"Father went to get flowers…" Rolliore said, sobering up dramatically, the two younger children following suit. "He'll be here soon, Luna."

The blonde smiled at the three young Rorvan, knowing better than to ask what was wrong. In spite of her casual and loyal relationship with Solaris, there were many things she wasn't allowed to know. "Then why don't we go ahead and start walking? I assume the guards are keeping an eye on us, so your dad should find us rather easily, yeah?"

In terms of human years, Kay'Ori and Crowlyn were the equivalent of six year olds, though their upbringing might usually have someone thinking they were older. Today, though, they were quick to grab the young woman's hands, which had her giggling. Rolliore stuck close, carrying himself as regally as any eight year old might, and together the four of them walked down Middle District— an aptly named bit of street and shopping center where Rorvan and Human cultures mixed, which seemed to grow further into both worlds as time passed. It was a place she loved to visit… because it so resembled her own state of being.

They had just made it to the window of the candy shop the pups all-but sponsored when, rather suddenly, there was a bouquet of flowers being held at her eye level, and Lunari found herself grinning before she even had the chance to look up.

Standing there, looking a bit sheepish, was Solaris. Her boyfriend(?) wore his usual Rorvan-style casual clothes; a white billowy cotton shirt, dark pants tucked into worn leather boots, and a myriad of tasteful-yet simple jewelry… including the Rorvan "crown" that hung as a chain around his forehead and tucked into his matte-black hair along with his thin-framed glasses that hid most of the magic in his eyes.

He never wore that in public. Not unless it was something serious.

She quickly took in the shadows under his crystalline topaz-faceted eyes, the tightness of his nervous smile, and the way his tail drooped, and swallowed. "...Your father…?"

The older man sighed, lowering the bouquet. "Knew you couldn't be distracted… I'm afraid so," he said, eyes clouded as he looked down. "The Kadron venom was too much for him to handle in his old age. It was a matter of time, sadly. It happened yesterday."

Instinctively, the blonde drew Kay'Ori closer as the little girl shook. "They let the four of you leave the castle? Isn't it…?"

Solaris shook his head. Glancing around, the man snapped his fingers, and Luna knew that the small group was in a magical bubble that would mute all sound coming from them. "There won't be a counter attack. Father hadn't been the only casualty of the fight, and the offending dragon is gone to whatever afterlife he subscribed to. This will, however, be the last time I can leave for a while, until after I get a handle on my position… I take over tomorrow."

Luna stared, her wolf tail twitching nervously. "As…?"

"Yes," Solaris said, almost bitter, picking up Kay and gently petting her hair. "'The king is dead, long live the king', and all that. I technically took up the mantle days ago when it was determined that my father wouldn't make it…" he explained, then gave the young woman a soft smile. "Don't you dare bow, I'll make fun of you if you try."

Luna shook her head. "I think I'm rubbing off on you, your hi— your majesty— you don't seem to be giving this situation the gravity it deserves."

The dark-haired older man just gave a soft smile. "My dear, I think your 'rubbing off on me' has been what's kept me sane."

Rolliore, always one for politeness, gave a light cough and earned the attention of the adults. "I think we should go inside, before someone notices…"

The newly appointed king chuckled. "Very true. You three go on in," he said, setting Kay'Ori down as the children prepared to rush the door. "And try not to give the poor human a heart attack, he's getting old!"

There was a soft chorus of "yes father"s as the children disappeared into the candy shop, and Solaris sighed. "Someday I'll have to do something nice for the Fierstele family. I think my pups end up stressing the old man out by buying half the store."

"I'm sure he appreciates the job security…" Lunari said softly, gently taking Solaris' hand. In the shadows between their fingers, she could feel the pulsations of desperation and exhaustion coming from him like the lapping of waves. "You need to stop pretending to be okay, Sully… it's only tiring you out."

"I know," he said, giving her hand a hesitant squeeze, "but I can't afford to grieve Father yet. I have… many things to fix…" suddenly, his eyes met hers. "...things to set in motion."

"That sounds ominous."

"Because it is, Luna," he said, crystalline eyes catching the light— and throwing off their own. "I know you never sought this. Never asked, never assumed, never let me even mention it… but I need someone I can trust at my side. I need you—"

"W-wait!" She whispered hastily, covering his mouth with a hand and looking around. Quickly, she snapped her own fingers, starting a spell that would hide them as well as keep them muted. "Solaris Coronis, we are in the middle of the street! You can't suddenly just…!"

"Make you a queen?" The older man asked, putting the bouquet of flowers in her hand, "I can, actually. I'm king. To a point, I can do anything I like."

Lunari blushed. "... This isn't the least bit romantic, you know."

"And I apologize, but unfortunately we need to hurry," he murmured, tone grim. "The plan to save the humans as well as the Daekin hinges on it. The cataclysm is merely a decade away, and Father and his council were planning to cut off the humans and most powerful of the hybrids."

Lunari nearly dropped the flowers, one of her shadows gripping it for her as she fought to keep her voice low. "What…?"

"I don't understand it myself, Luna…" Solaris nearly growled, eyes shimmering as he glared in the direction of the Rorvan castle, looking more wolf than man in that moment. "I found out while rifling through Father's paperwork. They were going to summon everyone they could to court, then activate our end of the magic and leave everyone else behind to either die or follow the other kingdoms when their magic was ready…" this time, the bright-eyed king did growl, sparks of light breaking free of the spell on his glasses in his anger and popping off like a show of firecrackers. "... There was even a plan to capture and sedate me, to drag me over without you. And if it weren't for Father's death, I wouldn't have found out until it was too late."

Lunari gently reached up, touching her boyfriend's face with the pads of her fingers. "Well, we definitely can't have that…" she said, smiling softly, reaching out with her Shade to calmly contain his Light. "You might have ripped the world apart trying to get back here, silly Sully. Best I go with you."

Solaris took a calming breath, then smiled down at her. "I would have, truly… and that's how I know you were the right woman for the job. I need someone who can temper me. I'm too serious, and too quick tempered. I need a queen who can tell me off."

"Then count me in," the blonde said, reaching up to kiss her future husband's cheek. "But I expect a very romantic wedding."

"Anything for you, my dear.”

"Then what's the plan?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Those stuffy old dogs will never let me take over anything, and you know it. I'm too young, and half human to boot. It doesn't matter how strong my magic is if they don't take me seriously… we've discovered that already, with them barring me from teaching magic to the pups."

Solaris gave the young woman a cocky grin. "You see, fair maiden mine, the councilors haven't had a proper conversation with me since I was your age… to them, I'm just some awkward, pedantic pup that makes too many rash decisions from his heart… I figure, if I prove to be entirely unapproachable and unreasonable, they'll have to appeal to you… as the only person who can keep me in line. The sense of reason to a new king who's let it all go to his head, while having very little real world experience, would be just the cover you need to assert yourself."

Lunari blinked. "You're… telling me that you, the sweetest and most honest wolf on this planet, are willing to play up being a raging dick to people… just so they'll listen to me?"

"Of course! In fact, I think it'll be fun…" softly, he confided, "I've never played a bad guy before."

The young woman suddenly laughed, shaking her head. "You're insane, Sully… but you know… I think we can con those dogs good."

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"Luna, where…?"

"In here, Sully!"

King Solaris rounded the corner, a smile on his lips before he even had a chance to think. There sat his wife of nearly ten years, expertly weaving magic together as she put the finishing touches on one of the bracers she was going to be wearing. It was finally the day to work the magic and move everyone to their new world… and he could only barely contain the fear pricking at him when he once again remembered that she would be in charge of the work.

It wasn't that he doubted she could do it. He knew she could. She was a strong woman, an excellent queen, and the greatest mage to be born on AltGaia— though she often insisted that Crowlyn would overtake her by the time he became a teenager. No… it was the fear that she would be let down at the last moment by the mages that would need to support her.

"I'll be fine," she repeated for what might have been the hundredth time that day. "It'll work out."

"How do you…?"

"You never seem to remember to hide your thoughts, Silly," she giggled, holding up her wrist and showing off the glowing little tattoo of the sun that symbolized their bond. "You might as well be yelling your worries at me."

He sighed. "Can you blame me?"

"No," she said softly, standing to her full height and still only coming up to the top of his bicep. "But I can still chastise you. All will be well…" She frowned, then, looking up at him. "... Our human friends said no?"

He nodded, sighing softly. "Old Fierstele is a stubborn one… he insists we'll come up with a solution and come back someday to save everyone, not just the handful that we like."

Lunari shivered. "But leaving him behind feels so…"

"I agree… but the human has made his choice. I did what I could and blessed his son with magic to help their family survive, but that is all I could do. At the very least, Arthur's descendants will be here if we find the solution… though I could tell how afraid the poor boy was, knowing that many of his friends would be going to safety while he stayed behind."

She inhaled, nodded, then squared her shoulders. "Then we'd better go. The quakes have stopped for now, and everything should be stable enough for our people to release their hold on the magic keeping the air clean here. It will last a dozen decades… but if we don't find a way to reverse everything by then…"

"Then we come back and drag who we can over with us, kicking and screaming," he murmured grimly, taking her hand and leading her out of the room. "Our way out won't last forever. We can only hold that place open for as long as the crystalline batteries hold power… but dying in a pocket dimension together will be better than all of humankind and their kin having to die separated while choking to death."

Lunari nodded, blinking a watery glimmer from her eyes as they both held their heads high and walked through the castle.

"It looks like hell outside…" she murmured, glancing out windows as they passed, "and I bet it's even worse away from the Mesa-Willows. Here under the branches, the roots mostly held things steady, and we still had casualties from the quakes. It must resemble some kind of warzone, or—"

Solaris flinched, feeling like a lancet suddenly pierced something in his mind at the word 'war', shuddering as he and Lunari halted, a sickening feeling brushing against him through their connection. The young woman beside him gasped, gripping her forehead as he held her steady. "Wh…what…?"

"Something's happening…" the dark-haired king nearly growled. "Feels like magic… but…?"

"I…" she swallowed. "I think that's our cue to leave."

"I agree…" he murmured, but his hackles would not go back down. Something strange had suddenly touched his mind, and evidently hers as well…

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"I think that's the moment it all went wrong."

You blink in confusion, feeling an eerie chill as attention shifted to you… as though you were a character in this play.

"If I was not in such a hurry, if I had been more informed… it would not have gotten to us as it did. And now it's too late to return to that moment."

The king seemed to sigh, a weariness there that was not present in the stories you had just read.

"I'm sending this part of me, of us, across to the furthest corners of my reach. Three of our most precious memories before our fall… and entrusting them to you. Potential Readers, who might be able to solve this catastrophe. I hope that by showing you what we were like in the past, you might forgive us in the future. Something wormed in. Played with our minds. It changed the facts until we could no longer remember the real story. That there was never a war. That we brought as many humans with us as we could convince to come… but something happened, and now everything is gone."

He reached out to you, then hesitated, pulling back. "I pray that you can find the solution, and put this old fool's soul to rest."

Everything began to grow dim, then… until the presence of Solaris Trinidad Coronis washed away.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

What, is that it? Just… dropping that on us and leaving? Putting all the pressure on them, and fading away?

You're as good at being a hero as you are at being a father.

But… don't worry. I haven't forgotten the good you used to do, or the happiness we all felt back then. I still treasure those memories, even now.

The story will be so out of order. I only recently became able to reach out to the people I lost…

A reader can only do so much alone, when it comes to saving a story. I guess that's why I'm still here… right, father?

#fate's crystal majesty #original writing #writing contest

[bookiebeanhastagonefoureightfive]

“I never told you this, but …”

Everyone always knew when Micah arrived anywhere. He was the show's star, the main character of everyone’s story, but he was never too self-centered. And that was something that I always liked about him, but I would never admit it.

I remember the first time that I spoke to him. Actually, to no one’s surprise, Micah was the one who started the conversation. He entered the office with a few colleagues surrounding him, laughing and smiling like there was nothing to worry about, even in the workplace. I could tell he was the reason they were smiling, because he had, as usual, the proudest smile of them all.

And then, out of nowhere, his eyes met mine, as he sat down next to me. I felt as if I was talking to a king or something, knowing he was the complete opposite of me. While he was surrounded by people, I was surrounded by coffee mugs that slowly built up on my desk. My “friends” were the documents that my boss asked me to edit. He was, if you want to put it exaggeratedly and childishly, the social butterfly of our company.

“Hey, hum… I was wondering if I could show you one of my projects. You are the best when it comes to editing, so I need some help. Can you do that for me, please?” He asked, being very soft-spoken, in opposition to what I expected.

I struggled for a moment. He was talking to me? Why would he choose me, out of everyone else? I’m pretty sure one of his many friends could do better than me.

“Oh, I mean, sure yeah! I don’t think I’m the best, but I can help, of course.” I said, laughing awkwardly as I was already speaking too much to my taste.

His eyes lit up with joy, nodding a little as I spoke. “Really? Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ll give you my phone number so you can call me whenever you are available to work with me! Thank you so much, Jamie!”

And, just like that, our friendship started a few months ago. We started casually working together, then, as time went by, I began to be his leading work partner. I also noticed that he would “collect” introverts from our company, asking them to join us here and there in a few projects. It was a simple but smart way of maintaining good teamwork.

We were on our way back home. As we slowly developed our friendship, I started to give him a ride home, and vice-versa. 

“You know what? I’m glad that you agreed to work with me the first time.” He said, looking up with a dreamy look, as he stared at the car ceiling.

“Why did you say that?” I asked, knowing he would casually have philosophical moments like that out of nowhere.

“Well, because I have something to tell you. I’m going to quit my job. I found something better for me… But we can maintain contact!” He quickly affirmed, noticing my facial expression changing from curiosity to sadness as he told me the news.

“I’m happy for you, Mike. I am! I just know for sure that we are going to miss you there. You are the main reason people noticed that I work there!” I joked, trying to hide my sadness. “But, since we are friends now… Why are you quitting? I know you love your job.” I questioned him, pulling up as we finally arrived at his house.

“Personal issues… But one day, I promise that I’ll explain it. I’ll see you later.” He promised, leaving my car right after, not allowing me to question him further from that.

It was said and done. After a couple of days, Micah was nowhere to be seen. It did affect our teamwork in the company. He was replaced by another person soon after, but to many of us, it still felt a little odd.

I decided to visit him one day. We had a small phone call beforehand and we agreed to go out to drink, something that would need to be better viewed by our colleagues.

I was wearing something casual, as it was the first time we would be out as friends.

“Jamie! Hey!” I heard his voice, grabbing my attention quickly.

He came out of his house and, once again, I was surprised by his looks. He was wearing a black shirt, halfway buttoned, his chest being little visible, black pants, and shoes. It was more casual than what he used to wear in the office but casual enough to go out. But, as always, he looked perfect.

Micah quickly got inside my car. I took a moment to look at him. “You look wonderful, Micah!” I complimented, getting a smile from him.

“Thank you so much, buddy. So, do tell me, where are you taking me?”

“We’re going to my favorite bar in town! It’s near the beach, so we can enjoy the best view of the ocean.” 

I took him there shortly after and we started drinking. At first, we were discussing how work was going, our colleagues, and other gossips that he wanted to know. But after a couple of drinks, the topic changed.

“I just realized that I never told you why I quit my job, did I?” He asked, taking a sip from his glass.

“I wanted to ask you that. You never told me the reason.”

He looked away for a moment as If he was gathering the courage to tell me. I kind of mimicked him, starting to feel a little nervous.

“You know how we weren’t allowed to date other colleagues, right?”

I nodded, knowing what he was talking about. I started to wonder if he found a partner in our company and decided to abdicate his place for them.

“I decided to leave our company because I fell in love with someone. I knew that I couldn’t persuade that relationship, so I decided to leave.”

I raised an eyebrow, impressed that I somehow predicted what happened.

“Oh, congratulations to both of you! I’m glad you chose love over work.”

“Both of us? Oh, I’m not in a relationship. At least yet.” He confessed.

“Oh, I thought you were dating them… Then why don’t you ask them out? I think anyone would be a lucky person if they were in a relationship with you!”

“I think you might be right. They’re such a good person and I fell in love the moment I met them. Their beauty? Oh my god, I can’t even describe it! I just wanted to look at them in the eyes and say: Jamie, I am in love with you.”

I froze for a moment. Did he just say my name? I knew I was the only Jamie in the office and no other name was similar to mine. Maybe he was confused.

“Micah, you just said my name… I think you got it wrong!” I whispered, looking at him in the eyes.

“No, Jamie. I’m more than sure of what I said. I struggled a lot and thought I was wrong, just like you said. But I can’t lie to you anymore. I do love you.” He confessed, touching my hand that was resting on the table.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to find words to explain what I was feeling, but I could only ask him one thing:

"Why did you never tell me?"

"It’s like I told you. It was a personal issue."

"You being in love with me kind of also involves me, so I would appreciate it if you told me,” I said, with a silly smile on my face.

He chuckled and stared at me for a moment, a smile slowly appearing on his face, making me blush. He moved a little closer to me and touched my chin, making me look up at him. His eyes were focused on my lips and I instinctively moved closer to him, feeling his lips touching mine as we kissed for the first time. Although I could taste the alcohol on his lips, I could also feel an addictive taste there, like mint or nicotine, making me kiss him more deeply than I expected. 

Maybe it was the mix of those flavors or not, but I didn’t stop kissing him for a while. Not even when we went back to my place together, nor when we woke up the next morning in each other's arms, as we decided to start something new together, that would last until the end of our lives. 

#original story #fanfic #romance #original character #creative writing #bookie bean

[lnevada]

Westworld has its good moments and it is a very clever show. I’m glad I gave it a try and will get the references now, but it’s just not for me. I’ll watch the season 3 premiere (for an actor cameo, of course) and then I’m done.

I am so relieved to be reviewing series again 😹

#westworld #too smart for my casual viewing tastes #tv series #review #ask me about my fandoms #great acting #text post #mine

[avenirdelight]

Do You Love My Mum?

Ben Chilwell

Kids ask such difficult questions sometimes.

Life always gives you choices. Life always demands you to make decisions. Easy ones that you can make within a snap of a finger to hard ones that you should make very carefully, with a whole lot of never-ending thinking process, and would change your life forever.

When eight months ago Ben first found out that the girl he had been seeing—the girl he was madly in love with—was actually a mum to a little boy, he had to make one of the biggest decisions in his life.

Ben had never thought about being a dad, he had never planned to have a kid. But once he'd gotten the chance to see the amazing relationship of the mother and son, all he could think about was how he wanted to complete their little family. He wanted to take the responsibility, to be the husband and father figure they needed.

And to make that life-changing decision was easy for him.

So the life Ben was living right now wasn't exactly how his twenty one-year-old-self had planned; back then he'd just told himself to focus on his career, date casually, try to find The One when he got a bit older and maybe get married at twenty eight.

But now at twenty five, he found himself picking up Brooklyn, his girlfriend's son, from school like every other Tuesday.

From the moment Brooklyn got into the car, he had been exceptionally quiet. He wasn't being his bubbly-self and Ben realised that something was wrong with the kid. Ben had tried to ask what was going on but Brooklyn just said that he was tired. Ben wasn't convinced, but he knew it was better to wait until they got home and leave the boy alone with his mind for the rest of their journey home.

But it turned out that Brooklyn decided to speak up sooner.

"Do you love my mum?" he asked.

Ben was completely taken aback by the question; his heartbeat raced. He slightly furrowed his eyebrows, briefly glancing at Brooklyn who was sitting on his car seat in the back through the rear-view mirror. The boy was staring out the window.

"Of course I do, little man," he answered.

"Do you love me?" Brooklyn asked again.

"I very much do."

There was a moment of silence as Ben felt the boy hesitating.

"You're not going to leave us, are you?"

Ben's heart stopped at that. He didn't like the question at all. It was upsetting him that Brooklyn was disturbed by these thoughts. He glanced at the rear-view mirror one more time and got more upset because Brooklyn actually looked sad.

It was heartbreaking, the fact a question like that could come from an innocent six year-old boy. A six year-old that shouldn't have gone through what he had gone through. A six year-old that should know and feel nothing but love and happiness.

But that handsome and smart little boy had had a taste of heartbreak, disappointment, and loss. It was cruel. And Ben was bemused that his brilliant little mind had to bear a worrying thought about whether his mum's boyfriend loved him and his mum and whether he was going to leave them.

"Hey... Why are you asking that? I promised you, right? I'm always going to be here for you."

The boy didn't answer immediately, as if he was taking a moment to think.

"Yeah... But John promised too and he broke it."

Ben hated how the name rolled out of Brooklyn's mouth—the name of the man who broke the hearts of the two people he loved the most in the whole entire world.

John was the man who had been in Ben's position a couple years ago, taking the mum and son under his wings and promising to never leave them, but had actually bailed out in the end. Ben had never known him, but he hated the man with all his guts, as much as he hated Brooklyn's dad who threw her away the second she'd told him that she was pregnant with his child.

"We're best friends, aren't we? Don't you trust me?" Ben asked softly.

"I do," Brooklyn answered and Ben was relieved. "Do you love her a lot?"

"Yes," Ben answered again without any hesitation.

"Are you going to marry her?"

A nervous little chuckle escaped through Ben's lips, both surprised and curious of why the little boy suddenly had the urge to drop the big question on him.

They stopped at a red light and Ben took the chance to turn around. He settled his gaze on Brooklyn, who was already looking at him with his round big eyes, full of hope and anticipation.

Ben's mind flew to his bedroom—to a tiny blue velvet box that was hidden in the bottom of his safe. It was still merely a plan that he kept for himself, a secret from the rest of the world, including her. And Ben had always considered himself as a man of his word—he always reminded himself that the promises he made to her and Brooklyn lasted for the rest of his life—so he couldn't give Brooklyn the promise unless everything was certain and determined.

"Marriage is a huge thing, little man," Ben tried to explain. "What I can tell you right now is that your mum and I love each other very much. And we love you more than anything."

Ben gave Brooklyn a reassuring smile and the boy nodded. "I trust you, Ben," he said bravely. "And I love you so much."

"I love you too," Ben replied, turning his attention back to the road just in time for the light to turn green. "May I know why are you suddenly asking me all these questions?"

"Well... My friends were telling each other stories about their dads and they asked me to tell them something about my dad," his voice started to falter again a little bit. "I said my dad is a footballer. I feel bad, because I don't really know if you're really going to be my dad. So I have to make sure..." he trailed off.

Ben was suddenly washed by sentimental feelings. It warmed his heart knowing that he was the one who came to Brooklyn's mind when the boy thought about dads—his dad.

"Hey, right now, I can be whatever you want me to be. I can be your best friend, I can be your brother—"

"You can be my dad?"

"Of course. I'd love to." Ben was one hundred percent being honest. "Would you like for me to be your dad?"

"Yeah... I'd love you to be my dad," Brooklyn repeated his words. "But I think I'm not ready to call you that."

Ben couldn't help but let out a light chuckle. "Just take it easy, okay? Ben is fine, I like you calling me Ben."

"Okay, Ben..."

Ben took another glance to the rear-view mirror. Brooklyn was looking out the window again, but the creases of worries had disappeared from his face. Ben was relieved and he had an idea to make the boy happy again.

"Brooks, shall we go get ice cream?"

Brooklyn's cheeky smile answered and he nodded excitedly.

—

She was glad she'd already dropped the hot pan back to the stove, or she'd probably have hurt herself since the question really caught her off guard.

"Does Ben make you happy, mum?" Her little boy's voice was loud enough to hear over the cartoon theme song that was playing on the TV.

She turned around, heart melted when she saw Brooklyn's innocent face peeking out from the couch across the room.

There was no doubt that Ben made her happy; he had been doing that since the day they met. She had been broken back then, still trying to mend her wounded heart and taking baby steps to move on. And life had suddenly given her Ben Chilwell, who made everything so much brighter and easier.

"Of course he does, darling," she answered with a small smile, gazing back at Brooklyn with a fond gaze. "Does he make you happy?"

"Yeah..." He nodded. "He teaches me football, he buys me everything I want, he makes me brave, and he loves us."

She pressed her lips together as she looked away briefly; her nose felt itchy and her eyes were about to glisten with tears because of her son's adorable words. She took a silent deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"He makes you happy because he loves us?"

The boy nodded again. "And he makes you happy, that's the most important thing."

"Oh, baby..." She gazed at him fondly, turning around, randomly putting a plate on the sink as an excuse to give her the chance to blink her eyes rapidly to shake the tears off her eyes. She'd been quite sentimental lately and her little boy's words easily touched her heart.

"Well, he makes you happy, that's the most important thing for me," she flashed a fond smile to Brooklyn as she walked to where he was. "You make him happy too, you know. He's happy when you come to watch his games, he's happy to play football with you, he's happy that you teach him piano," Brooklyn chuckled at that and she grinned. "And like I do, he's also very proud of you."

"Yeah, I know, he always tells me that," he muttered as he watched his mum plopping herself down beside him.

"Why are you suddenly asking me if he makes me happy?" she asked curiously.

Brooklyn only shrugged. "I just want to know." She wasn't too surprised, really, because Brooklyn always wanted to know about everything. "But, well..." he sounded uncertain as he looked down.

"What is it?" she asked when Brooklyn didn't continue. She watched him intently, playfully poking his feet with her finger. The boy looked up to her after a moment. His eyes were full of hope.

"I hope you and Ben are going to be together forever, mum," his voice was very clear, so brave and certain. "I think he's the best for you."

—

The image of Ben sitting on the armchair as he fixed his eyes on a sleeping Brooklyn truly warmed her heart. She leaned herself on the doorframe, not announcing her presence yet as she wanted to take in the heartwarming scene.

"I think he's the best for you." Brooklyn's words from this afternoon kept ringing in her mind. She still felt the urge to cry every time she remembered his beautiful face as he said that. Brooklyn always knew the best things to say; to cheer her up, to calm her down, to assure her that everything was going to be okay. And this time, Brooklyn had managed to make her believe that Ben was indeed the best for her.

She was always sorry to Brooklyn for what happened between her and John; she knew John broke not just hers but also Brooklyn's heart and she would forever blame herself for that. So when she'd decided to try for romance again, she promised herself to be careful, to not rush it. But surprisingly, with Ben everything happened naturally and easily.

She never set any expectations towards Ben because she knew she had baggage that might be too heavy for him. But Ben had exceeded all the expectations she would've set for a man. He'd earned her trust, he guided and protected her, he was a great partner and he could make a good dad, and he always proved that. She was grateful that they'd become the family they were right now.

Her train of thoughts was cut off by Ben calling her name. He gave her a small smile and she answered it with the same smile as she approached him, sliding herself into his lap, sighing softly when she felt his arm wrapped around her back.

"Yesterday he asked me if I love you," Ben began. His voice was low, scared if he'd wake Brooklyn up if he spoke too loud. "You know how incredible he is, right? He loves his mama more than anything."

"I know... I'm so grateful that I have a son as wise and as smart as he is." Both of them were staring adoringly at Brooklyn.

"You made him into the little man he is today," Ben said proudly, shifting his gaze full of admiration into her. She blushed as she looked back at him, leaning in for a quick warm kiss.

"He also said that he would love me to be his dad... But he's not ready to call me that," they let out repressed giggles, but quickly died down as the look on Ben's face turned into something more serious. "And I'd love to be his dad too," he said. "How about you, mum?"

The corner of her lips tugged upright very slightly. Of course, she wanted Ben to be Brooklyn's dad, she had never known anyone love Brooklyn as his own like Ben did. But she was too mesmerised by the fact that Ben actually wanted to be Brooklyn's dad.

"You want to be Brooklyn's dad?" her voice almost cracked.

"I'd be so honoured if you give me the permission to be his dad. Because to be honest with you, I already consider him as my own," Ben confessed and she couldn't even describe how warm and full her heart felt. "I'm here to stay, baby. That's a promise."

This was the first time Ben told her these things and she was totally overwhelmed by it.

"I think you're the one. Brooklyn also asked me whether I'm gonna marry you. I didn't promise him that, but the truth is I see myself marrying you."

She was speechless. All this time she had wished for someone who would take her as she was. Sometimes she still got scared if one day Ben would suddenly change his mind and leave. Not that she didn't trust him, but Ben was someone who could've had anyone he wanted, but he chose her.

"Why me, Ben? You could've had someone your age or younger, someone single, with no kid..." she trailed off. She was on the verge of crying.

Ben's hand went to tuck the strands of hair to the back of her ear, before gently holding her face. He caressed her cheek, still looking at her very intently, with so much admiration and love. She had always seen herself as someone with too many flaws, but never once Ben looked at her like that.

"Hey, I've got myself a strong and independent woman. Why would I settle for less?" He answered. "You teach me a lot of things. You make me a better person. You push me to do great things. I am incredibly lucky and blessed to be loved by you."

She hoped Ben knew how genuinely happy she was hearing all these things, how Ben made her like she was the best person ever. She had dreamed for someone like Ben and she would be eternally grateful that he had been sent to her life, for her and Brooklyn. She felt incredibly lucky and blessed to be loved by Ben.

"Brooklyn said to me that he hopes you and me stay together forever," she said, taking a deep breath to shake away the urge to cry. "I hope it's not too soon for me to say, but I also wish for that."

Ben's smile mirrored hers, both felt relieved and content knowing that they hope for the same thing for the future. They didn't need to say it, but there was a mutual understanding between them that they would always give their best for each other and especially for Brooklyn.

"I love you," Ben whispered as he pulled her closer for a long peck on her lips. She briefly pulled back to say "I love you too" before reconnecting their lips. They shared another smile when they pulled away. She then rested her head on Ben's shoulder, snuggling to him to seek for more warmth.

"Thank you, Ben. For making Brooklyn's and my life better," she mumbled. They both now were again settling their gazes on Brooklyn.

"You both make my life complete." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm glad I found you."

—

the first out of three prompts that i asked you to vote a couple of weeks ago.

i've been busy and i'm having a writer's block, so it's the worst combo. but i'm trying. i'm sorry for the lack of new writings and thank you for waiting.

i personally really love this one. this one took three weeks to write (the file was opened 38 times...), i poured my love into this, and here it is.

please tell me what you like about the story, tell me which parts make you cry or squeal, which lines you love, i would abbbbsolutely love to know! i hope you enjoyed it!<3

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #ben chilwell imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #ben chilwell one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #footballer fic #football fic #imagine #one shots #fanfiction #chelsea fc #england nt #ben chilwell #avenirdelight gif

[littlemissnoname13]

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One 

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket. 

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were. 

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that. 

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up. 

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate. 

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair. 

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on. 

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it. 

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too. 

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain. 

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart. 

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up. 

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you. 

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you. 

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips. 

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting. 

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class. 

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right. 

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals. 

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one. 

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.”  Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever. 

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow. 

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class. 

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be. 

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing. 

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair. 

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party. 

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one. 

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor,  Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out. 

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle. 

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud. 

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered. 

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one. 

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating. 

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls. 

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number. 

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile. 

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there. 

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. 

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all. 

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you. 

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together. 

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back. 

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away. 

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring. 

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away. 

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed. 

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes. 

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him. 

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open. 

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried. 

Lumos. 

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you. 

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning. 

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink. 

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you. 

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

 “It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged. 

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?” 

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar. 

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.” 

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back. 

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket. 

“How come?” 

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.” 

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged. 

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem. 

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red. 

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating. 

 “It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded. 

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move. 

“What does red mean to you y/n?” 

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him. 

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his. 

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?” 

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless. 

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?” 

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away. 

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands. 

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips. 

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles. 

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all. 

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop. 

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like. 

It tasted like your wine stained lips. 

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return. 

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet. 

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing. 

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.” 

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost. 

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms. 

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.” 

FIN. 

~~~

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vi

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader fluff #draco fluff #draco one shot #draco fic #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x yn #draco x you

[the-hidden-pages]

Let Me Worship You: Part 1 - Zemo x Fem!Reader

The fact that this man is the one who dragged me out of my refusing-to-write-fanfiction grave and let me post old work while working on new stuff is...Impressive. Damn you Daniel Bruhl.

Synopsis: With all the horrible things you had heard of Baron Helmut Zemo, you hadn't anticipated just how badly he wished to win you over. To a further extent, you certainly hadn't anticipated how tempting it would be to give in.

No bad NSFW this chapter - this is the lead up to the main course.

You were not an Avenger.

Unsurprising, really, given what you perceived to be your lack of talent and marketable super-heroine prowess, and so when Bucky called you up asking for a favour, you were pleasantly surprised.

You had only met Bucky on the rare occasion he let you help him, often expressing that he viewed you as a worrywart, a particularly bad day of his leading to him accusing you of trying to be his mother. He later apologized, hearing your explanation that you wanted to help in any way you could, and since you didn't have a superhero serum or fancy suit or arm, you relied on what you could - your mind and your giving nature.

He must have remembered this conversation, because he brought you with him and Sam to what appeared to be an underground parking garage.

"What're you talking about, you wanna break Zemo out of jail? Where the hell are we Buck? Have you lost your mind?!" Sam was raving as you followed behind the two men, silent as you stew over what Bucky had told you.

Babysitting duty.

You were effectively on glorified babysitting duty of an incredibly dangerous criminal.

"James..." you hesitated when he discussed this with you, how could you not? "I don't know how useful I'll be here."

"Very," he countered, his voice dull while his eyes were pleading. "Sam’s an Avenger, I have the serum. But you, you're just a person. Zemo will be less likely to hurt and immediately betray you because of that fact alone."

"He's killed people who've been in his way before. Normal people."

"He won't kill you. I'll make sure of that."

A heavy sigh escapes you as Sam and Bucky continue to bicker about the logistics of breaking Zemo out.

"I don't like how casual you're being about this, it's unnatural - and - where are we man?"

"I wouldn't mind an answer to that too," you supply, but any answer is interrupted by the sound of a door unlocking.

The three of you turn to approaching footsteps, and find no one other than Helmut Zemo striding towards you, dressed in a prison guard's uniform.

Sam responds immediately, arguing to throw him back in jail, while Bucky tries to calm him down. But you can't help but stare at the man before you as he removes the cap on his head, arms raised in an attempt to calm the men down.

"If I may" his voice rasped, but he was stopped short by Sam and Bucky in unison.

"NO!"

Zemo nodded, looking away almost sheepishly. "Apologies," came the quiet response.

If it were any other situation, you would have laughed - those two had the dynamics of a married couple and they couldn't stand each other. And for them to completely shut down the killer in front of them was...incredibly funny.

But you had a job to do.

As the boys continued to bicker, you took slow steps forward towards the man now looking you up and down, trying to place your part in all of this.

"Don't mind them," you spoke quietly, not wanting to distract Sam and Bucky, but still intending to speak with the criminal. "They're having some troubles in paradise. You must be Zemo."

His eyes take you in, a small smirk beginning to form. "So I must. May I have the pleasure of your name, Liebling?"

You offer your name hesitantly, and he repeats it back to you, as though he were sampling what it might taste like.

"Beautiful name, thank you." He turns to face the two men still arguing, not noticing your introductions. "I really think I'm invaluable..."

"Shut up..." Sam warned, before turning back to Bucky, looking between him and you.

You nod reassuringly to him - this is necessary, if the super soldiers are to be dealt with.

A sharp sigh leaves Sam. "Okay. If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission. And she is watching you every step of the way."

Bucky interjects. "And if anything happens to her, you're going to wish we left you in that cell."

Zemo nods, looking to you once again. "Fair."

You tilt your head slightly, unable to read his eyes as they examine you. You brush it off, chalking it up to him appreciating not being thrown back into a cell immediately. "Okay Zemo. Where do we start?"

*************************************

Zemo wasn't sure of what to make of you, he realized as you were on the jet to Riga.

You weren't an Avenger, you weren't a soldier, super or otherwise. You seemed to just be a person, one constantly offering her help where she could, even when it was to her own detriment.

He also took note of how rarely your help was appreciated or reciprocated.

You would offer help any moment you could, carrying supplies, offering to fetch food, simply offering and ear to listen. You were quick to attempt to smooth over Sam and Bucky's disputes, and you would play along with the role Zemo would assign you without much question - anything to help, you would say.

You were kind, he noticed as well. Smart, and shrewd, and clearly with trust issues, but you were kind and polite. You spoke with him as much as you might Sam or Bucky, you offered him your trust under the promise he would aide you find the super soldier serum. With your kindness, he thought it might be easy to manipulate you, to slip away from the group, maybe even to ask you to join him.

But there was an issue with his theory, he quickly noticed - any attempt to woo you, attract you, win you...didn't seem to work.

He hadn't been at the task long, mind you, but he had hoped you would be impressed with the jacket, the Baron title, the jet, the offer of wine. Instead, you simply seemed uncomfortable. Come Madripoor, you were happy to play the part of eye candy to escape much attention, yet when he offered you to keep the stunning dress, shoes, and jewelry ensemble you simply waved it off, claiming that you'd reimburse him if he insisted on you keeping it. You were happy to dance near him, unable to hide your laughter at his moves, yet he offered you a drink and you promptly declined, claiming it unnecessary.

Zemo's brow furrows as he observes you, awake and quietly reading as Sam and Bucky both sleep on the flight.

"What's your motive, Liebling?" he questions, and you glance up from your page.

"Don't tell me the criminal doesn't trust me," you respond wryly, turning your gaze back.

"No, I don't mean like that," he shifts, leaning forward to continue to observe the woman that was his guard. "I wonder what keeps you going. Some are motivated by riches, and dreams. Others from spite and anger. What do you want from life, my dear? What causes you to wake up in the morning?"

You pause, looking up to search his eyes to see where this question was coming from. You weren't sure what game he was playing, and you weren't sure how to answer him either. You eventually look back down to your book, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing wakes me up in the morning, given I rarely get to sleep most nights."

His brows furrowed as she goes back to her pages, eager for the conversation to end. Her difficulty doesn't seem to be that he's a criminal - she's spoken plenty freely to him, she agrees to his plans...

The difficulty, he begins to realize with a smile. Maybe he's beginning to see what the difficulty is after all.

*************************************

You weren't sure what to make of Zemo, you think as you lie awake at night in the Riga safe house.

This criminal coming out of nowhere, apparently being rich as hell, so far doing nothing to cause you to believe he would betray you (yes, Sam and Bucky were shocked by his killing of Nagel, but really? You weren't shocked) ...but what shocked you the most was how badly he seemed to want to win you over.

You could justify it, sure. You're supposed to be his guard, he's likely trying to get you to let your guard down so he can escape. Yet when he's so charismatic, the way he holds himself, that voice...

Your eyes snap open sharply.

You were attracted to Zemo.

The man you're meant to be watching.

No, you told yourself. You're just lonely, and he's the first man offering you attention in a long time. It doesn't matter that his eyes examining you makes you blush, that you want to run your fingers through his hair, that a quiet voice your head wished that he would kiss you when he pulled you aside with one arm, other hand aiming at a pipe in Madripoor to blow up some poor saps...

It's the heat of the situation, you told yourself. Your options are Sam, Bucky, and Zemo...

Trust you to pick the worst option.

But how could you not, your mind whispers. When he danced like a goofball in a club your heart warmed. When he sat, filled with confidence and righteousness in the jet, legs splayed enough that you could perch on your knees in front of him, worship him, pleasure him. When he left the bathroom this morning in that damned robe, the deep V drawing your eyes down his chest before you could help himself.

You groaned. Of all the thoughts to keep you awake, why did it have to be your assignment on your mind?

It was too hot, your mind was swimming, you knew sleep wouldn't come soon.

And so, you stood, wrapping your arms around your book and padding downstairs in a loose t-shirt and shorts. Zemo had said that you were welcome to whatever resided within the safe house, and you were ready to take up his offer and steal a cup of tea.

You weren't expecting to find anyone else still awake. And yet, you weren't fully surprised to find Zemo sitting in the kitchen, bottle of whiskey at his side, a glass in his hand. He looks up at the sound of your footsteps, a soft smile on his face.

"Good evening, Liebling."

"Zemo. Can't sleep?"

"Unfortunately, not." He leans backwards slightly, examining you. "Another sleepless night for you as well."

"So it would seem."

You take a seat across the counter from him, not wanting to sit too closely to the man you were just fantasizing about. You were good at keeping a straight face, but you wondered if you got too close if he'd somehow be able to smell it on you.

He pushed his bottle forward, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Drink?"

Your finger caresses the binding of your book as you hesitate to find the words.

"Actually, I had come down to make myself a cup of tea, if you don't mind."

Zemo's eyes lit up slightly, and he stood, motioning for you to stay where you were. "Allow me."

"You don't have to-" you begin to protest, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Please, Liebling, let me spoil you."

The heat that washes over you is clearly visible, if his chuckle is any indicator.

Silence falls and you quietly open your book as Zemo busies himself over the tea. In mere minutes a steeping mug is delicately placed in front of you. You smile graciously and nod, though you falter slightly as he doesn't return to the other end of the counter - rather, sitting on a stool right beside you, inquisitive eyes not leaving your face.

"Can I help you with something, Baron?" you question, taking the tea and blowing on it to cool it down somewhat. His eyes follow your movements, before travelling to meet yours again.

You could drown in those eyes -

"Day after day you offer your help, sarcastically or not," he begins, leaning forward slightly as he rests his chin on his hand, examining you. "Who offers help to the helper?"

You take a sip of your tea, tilting you head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your refusal of my gifts, your reluctance to let me even make you a cup of tea - at first I wondered if it was in distrust of me, Liebling -"

"Well, you have killed people."

He quirks an eyebrow, and you motion for him to finish.

"I realize now it's because you're uncomfortable being cared for. You spend so much time looking after everyone else, you give no one the opportunity to worship you as you deserve."

You choked a bit on your tea at that.

"I don't know that I deserve to be worshiped, I just...exist. And do what I can to help others."

Zemo leaned forward further, slowly, so as to not push you away in result. "We haven't been acquainted for long, my dear, but from all I've seen from you with Sam, with James, and with an undeserving man such as myself...the strength in your soul and the empathy in your heart...It alone rises you so far above the men and women placed on pedestals because of their supernatural abilities."

You lean forward to match, but your eyes have steeled over. "Your sweet words won't make me let you go, Zemo. I won't betray Sam and Bucky."

He didn't miss a beat. "I should be so lucky to be held captive by you for eternity, Liebling. I don't ask you to betray your friends on my behalf."

"Then what do you want from me, exactly?"

You should be very afraid. The man who singlehandedly tore apart the Avengers is staring at you as if you were a last meal, his knees touching yours, his hand finding its way to lightly perch on your arm.

You should be afraid.

Yet despite your better judgement, you aren't.

"I want you to tell me every one of your desires, so I might fulfill them. I want to see you stand tall in the finest clothes money can buy, to whisk you away to Paris, Vienna, Rome, every beautiful local this world has to offer, local that pale in comparison to the beauty in front of me. I want you to let me bring you tea, wine, food, chocolates, and anything else that might please you. I want you to relax against me, to feel the tension you've had all mission to wash away in the most luxurious bath of your life, while I wash your beautiful hair, while I taste every inch of you."

His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward more to hang off his every word. "I'm not a stupid man. I know it's only a matter of time before I'm back in a prison cell of some kind. And even if I weren't, you may not believe the sincerity of my words. But tonight, little bird, I want you to let me worship you."

Your eyes fluttered as his hand reached forward to cup your cheek, thumb caressing over your bottom lip. You had the strength to look him dead in the eye with one final warning.

"If this is a trick of any kind, Zemo, I won't hesitate to let Bucky rip you to shreds."

The laughter that leaves him fans over your face, drawing your eyes to his lips.

"I'd expect nothing less, Liebling."

His eyes still search your face. A gentleman, you realize. He's waiting for permission.

You lean forward to close the gap, slowly letting your mouth brush over his, tasting him for the first time, as your hand raises to card through the locks of hair in his face. Your body thrums with anticipation of what's to come, with the anxiety that this may be a dangerous move, with pure, undiluted arousal from his words.

Yet you break away gently, both hands cupping his face now as he looks at you, curious as to why you stopped, pleased that his initial seduction worked.

Your hands slowly travel down to his own, and you stand, backing towards the way you came when you first gave up on sleep for the night.

"Come on then. You want to show me what being spoiled is like?"

A grin curls its way onto his face as he spins you in his arms, twirling you so that your back is against his front, his arms around you, his breath hot in your ear.

"Little bird, I'll give you everything you crave and more."

#zemo x reader #zemo fanfic #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #x reader #baron zemo x reader

[hopscotchfriday]

Amazon’s The Wheel of Time episodes 1 – 5

To say my feelings about Robert Jordan’s series of novels – The Wheel of Time – are conflicted is an understatement.

From the age of 12 they were a constant presence in my life until the gaps between releases started widening, as did my taste in reading. At this point my thinking surrounding The Wheel of Time changed from, this is my The Lord of the Rings methadone to, this is embarrassingly bad – the result of my haunting the popular fantasy sections of bookstores, shelves heaving with door-stopper Tolkien-knock offs.

And I did return to read the concluding entry in The Wheel of Time, titled A Memory of Light in 2013. That is a span of years reading these books that covers two decades. The sunk cost fallacy definitely applies.

Even in my review of the last book, written by author Brandon Sanderson after the passing of Robert Jordan in 2007, I noted “The Wheel of Time has long had its critics and this book will certainly do nothing to change their minds.” The flaws in the series were always apparent, I simply aged into noticing them. Having done so I felt I had to commit to finishing the books, even though I no longer enjoyed reading them.

Some would point the finger of blame at Sanderson for rushing the ending to the series – but then he reached the finish line after writing three novels wrapping up the majority of the story. A daunting task to say the least. If anything, I would criticise Sanderson for being too faithful to the stylistic tone of Jordan’s, let’s call it, sleep-inducing prose.

Enter one Rafe Judkins, the showrunner for Amazon’s fantasy genre blockbuster miniseries The Wheel of Time.

Was this property developed so Jeff Bezos’s media empire had a Game of Thrones/The Lord of the Rings title of its own? Absolutely. Happily, as an adaptation it has more in common with the latter than the aggressively trumpeted fantasy deconstruction of Benioff and Weiss.

Were George R.R. Martin’s richly grimed prose, though similarly dragging as a book series à la Jordan’s, was rendered as disturbingly titillating rape and violence for HBO viewers, Judkins has veered in the opposite direction.

Like Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings series – also due to be revisited by Amazon – this is more a spiritual adaptation. It spotlights the values of the series Judkins prefers to focus on. In interviews he has highlighted that sex will be depicted with an emphasis on pleasuring women characters. Five episodes in and we’ve already seen depictions of queerness casually introduced – Jordan acknowledged situational homosexuality among mainly the women who train in the magical university of Tar Valon, referred to in text as ‘pillow friends’, but little more. Judkins’s The Wheel of Time, like Bioware’s Dragon Age video game series, features queerness as an ordinary reality of the characters. The show’s use of violence and physical harm is brutal, but not sadistic in its depiction.

The Wheel of Time feels more like a commentary on HBO’s Game of Thrones, which is amusing as Martin was credited for undercutting the stuffy Medievalism and Tolkien-tokenism of his genre.

I should quickly digress here to note that Martin and Jordan were friends, and supported one another’s work in fantasy fiction.

I think it was a smart decision for Judkins and his writers and cast to keep established fans of the books on their toes. The emphasis on an ensemble-oriented plot is good, because it allows actors like Madeleine Madden, Daniel Henney and Zoë Robins to lift up their respective characters, excluded by the novel’s narrow assortment of point of view chapters.

Jordan’s books rest on chapter-by-chapter interior narration. Shifting the storytelling to instead lean on the relationships between the characters is a good choice. And what a cast – at the time of writing I have just watched episode 5, Blood Calls Blood. Madden and Henney in their respective scenes show incredible emotional commitment to the physical and emotional suffering of Egwene and Lan (she’s been tortured by the fascist White Cloak religious supremacists – he’s publicly grieving at a funeral). I found myself very moved by this episode and it surprised me because I am so used to cheap and cheerful fantasy or science fiction television adaptations that through a combination of fan service and nostalgia tend to get a rueful pass from me.

But this show… I like it. It has issues. Overall though I am enjoying it both as an entertainment and a commentary on the flawed source material. Jordan’s books were praised for their vaunted sexual politics, despite their boiling down to scenes with powerful women being spanked, or men yelling in frustration at their lovers (who secretly love it). Yeesh.

Here violence is instead answered by compassion and love. Maria Doyle Kennedy’s speech – oh this cast! – as Illa describing the Way of the Leaf underlines this approach. What she describes, a peaceful philosophy that in the books was ultimately a failed throwback to a misunderstood tradition of servitude, is here a richly articulated practice of non-violence. And in a time of cops beating protesters on camera without consequence, that’s a powerful moment to show onscreen. 

Sex is emotionally expressive, whether it’s Rand and Egwene unknowingly coming together as their lives move apart, or the sweet-natured thrupple of an Aes Sedai and her two Wardens. In the books sexuality is as much a matter of power and dominance as anything else – Jordan’s principal theme, if the series can be said to have one, is the idea of domination underlying all relations. The show seems to be flipping that dynamic.

In eight seasons of HBO’s Game of Thrones, I watched …maybe two episodes more than once. Those episodes were season 6’s Hold the Door, which was just heartbreaking, and the previous season’s Hardhome, a thrilling zombie adventure set during the events of the series.

Nothing else from the show ever truly grabbed my attention.

I have, to my pleasure and shame, watched all five episodes of The Wheel of Time at least two times each. It is doing something for me. And I think it’s the emotional lives of these characters that I am drawn to most. So, credit to Judkins. And Rosamund Pike. And Alexandre Willaume’s Thom Merrilin for delivering a song that neatly sums up the first prologue of Jordan’s books and made it a bop. Credit to Salli Richardson-Whitfield for her staging of the funeral sequence in Blood Calls Blood – she was in Black Dynamite you guys!

So yeah. I think I like it.

… but as a pill for the Amazon of it all, support your union, support organised labour, buy from your local bookstore!

#The Wheel of Time #Robert Jordan #rafe judkins #Amazon Wheel of Time #Alexandre Willaume #Thom Merrilin #Rosamund Pike #salli richardson-whitfield #madeleine madden #zoe robbins #Maria Doyle Kennedy #Daniel Henney #Fantasy fiction #Game of Thrones #George R.R. Martin #J.R.R. Tolkien #The Lord of the Rings #david benioff #db weiss #emmet o'cuana

[xaphrin]

I am hoping to post this whole fic all at once, but I was so happy with this chapter that I wanted to share it. So, here. Have some "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with my wedding baker" AU.

- - -

When Damian opened the door to find Raven standing in the hallway, the expression on her face spoke volumes about her feelings of being here when most people were dead asleep.

She adjusted the large plastic container in her hands and shook a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You are aware that it’s two in the morning, right?”

Damian knew. Of course he did. A part of him almost felt apologetic for calling Raven and forcing her to come to his home in the middle of the night (especially over something as insignificant as lemon curd), but with the premium he was paying her for an off-hours house call, he didn’t allow that apology to take root. He’d been accused of being a “night owl” on more than one occasion, but the truth was that he suffered from occasional bouts of insomnia. And if he had to suffer through this ailment, then so should others - including the baker for his wedding.

“I’m paying you enough to make up for your interrupted sleep schedule.” Without any ceremony, he ushered her into his penthouse, closing the door behind her. Titus pushed past him and nudged Raven’s hip, begging for pets. Damian couldn’t help but notice that Titus paid Raven more attention than he paid his own fiance. “Sleep when you’re dead.”

Raven’s lips pulled to the side in a teasing half-smile, her eyes meeting his. “How chivalrous of you.” There was a small pause as she set the plastic container down on a small table by the door and bent down to scratch Titus behind the ears. “You know that your night time doorman seems to think I’m here for purposes other than cake. Why else would some strange woman be visiting you at an unreasonable hour?”

Damian didn’t care what his doorman thought, and he highly doubted Raven cared. She was just trying to get under his skin. He shrugged and turned away from her, motioning her to follow him deeper into his flat. “I hardly see how that is my problem. Besides, didn’t you say that you get up at four in the morning anyway?”

Her face fell. “That is entirely beside the point, and you know that, Mr. Wayne.”

“You can call me Damian.” He had reminded her of that fact at least half a dozen times now.

“Ha.” Her sarcastic laugh made him smirk. “No one calls a Wayne by their first name. It’s akin to social suicide. I’d be willing to bet that you even call your father Mr. Wayne.”

Damian walked her through the massive living room, heading towards the kitchen at the far end of his flat. “Only on holidays, and the occasional birthday.”

Raven snorted. “Ah. I see how deep the decorum runs.” As they walked into the kitchen, her face lit up with surprise, and she let go of a low whistle. Pushing past him, she inspected the appliances with blatant envy. “Do you even know what I would do to have this oven in my posession? I would commit war crimes to get this oven in my apartment.” She opened the oven doors and looked inside before standing up and turning to him, eyes narrowing. “Is this just for show? Do you even bake?”

“No.”

Raven closed the oven door and sighed. “Pity.”

“I cook.”

That seemed to pique her interest, and she leaned against the marble countertop, watching him with a sharp stare. There was a long stretch of silence, and it felt like her eyes were boring into him, stripping away everything that protected him until it felt like each flaw was exposed to her scrutiny. In any other situation, Damian would have slammed up some kind of barrier to keep her from looking too deep, but this time he found himself oddly comfortable with letting her investigate him. He didn’t mind showing her his weaknesses, and that thought should have scared him, but it didn’t. He kept his face blank and let her watch him.

“You know… I am having a hard time imagining you slaving over a stove in a hot kitchen.” Her head tilted to the side and she smirked. “Although I like the thought of you wearing a frilly apron. A soft pink one, with ruffles and bows.”

His face fell and he crossed his arms over his chest. Cheeky. “I am docking your home visit fee until you take that back.”

“Mm. Worth it.” She turned away from him, and reached for the plastic container on the counter, unsnapping the lid. In an instant, Titus was at her side and Damian watched her sneak him a treat she had obviously made for him. Raven seemed to make herself at home in his kitchen, as if she belonged there. He found himself smiling at her, and a strange kind of warmth filled his chest.

“So, tell me your fear with the lemon curd, and why it was so imperative that you force me out of bed at two o’clock in the morning to travel all the way across town with cake samples.”

Well, when she put it like that, it did make him sound like a typical, spoiled son of an eccentric billionaire. Damian ignored that small spot of guilt again and settled on a stool at the eat-in counter. “I think my fiance is allergic to lemons… or curd. I can’t remember, but it’s one of those.” He thought for a long moment, trying to remember what it was that she had said last time he had spoken to his fiance.

“You can’t remember?” Raven turned back around and looked at him, her expression incredulous. “Haven’t you two known each other for years? That's what all the tabloids say anyway.”

Oh, right. The tabloids were spinning the relationship into some falsehood of star-crossed lovers who used to be childhood best friends. The truth was far less interesting. “We have known of each other for years. We’ve crossed paths at various parties and events, and my father and hers have a mutual business relationship. But, knowing each other implies some kind of deep, long term relationship. Something more than casual friends.”

“Ah.” Raven rummaged through his cabinets for plates, setting them next to the plastic container containing cake samples. “And I take it that’s not what you have with the daughter of Queen Consolidated?”

Damian shrugged, knowing that talking about the arrangement was opening himself to all kinds of scrutiny from her. But, there was something about Raven that made it almost comfortable to open up to her. In all the times they had been together, she never seemed like the type to spill his secrets. In fact, she seemed to keep them closer than most people he knew. He actually liked talking to her - even with her cheeky attitude. “We’ve only been together in an official capacity for a few months.”

“Oh…”

Her tone seemed to waffle between pity and understanding, and Damian felt like he had to scramble for an explanation. It felt like he didn’t want her to think less of him as a person.

“The marriage is one of a business nature. Our families would be brought together with the marriage of children. It would strengthen the ties between us.” After saying it out loud, Damian realized how cynical that sounded. It was more than just a business move. For all intents and purposes, he liked Emiko, she was smart and polite and reasonably attractive. Marrying her was a good, sound move. He would be content though their marriage.

“I didn’t realize that was still a thing - marrying for business purposes.” Raven pulled out cake samples from the plastic box and placed them on the counter. “Sounds a little medieval, if you ask me.”

Damian shrugged, not feeling any particular way about her comments. “She’s a lovely woman.”

“Is she?” Raven scoffed. “My landlady is a lovely woman. The mail person is a lovely woman. The person who delivers my takeaway is a lovely woman." She gave him a flat stare, pursing her lips. "Lovely woman is not a term of endearment you use for someone you're madly in love with."

"I never said I was madly in love with her."

"Ah. I see. I must have misunderstood." She handed him a slice of cake, her eyes as sharp as a hawk’s as she watched him. "Raspberry and chocolate." She paused. "Is that the business agreement to the marriage then? You marry Emiko Queen, and in return both families have fingers in each other’s pots… so to speak.”

"Yes." Damian took a bite of the cake, and he tasted the sharp tartness of the raspberry at the forefront of the cake before melting away to luscious chocolate. Just like the first time he tasted her cakes, he barely kept himself from moaning in pleasure. She had to bake magic into her cakes for them to taste this damn good. He chewed slowly, letting himself wallow in the flavor.

"Does she love you?"

Damian swallowed and stared at her. The question caught him off guard. He knew for certain he didn’t love her, but he had never really thought about whether or not she loved him. "That's forward of you."

"Asking if your fiance loves you?" She snorted and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "You're right. How rude of me." Another slice of cake appeared. "Pistachio and cardamom."

He took a bite and tamped down a shiver. She was a magician, there was no other explanation. The flavor curled in his mouth like spiced smoke. "It'll be a fine arrangement."

"Mm. How romantic, an arrangement. Be still my fluttering heart."

Damian rolled his eyes and took another bite of cake. "I am amazed you manage to keep clients with the mouth on you."

She gave a one shouldered shrug. "I let my work speak for me." There was a pause and she leaned over the counter to look closer at him, trying to decipher his expression. “But you never answered my question. Does she love you?”

Damian blinked, letting her question settle in the pit of his stomach. Did his fiance love him? He doubted it, but then again, he never thought to ask. Emiko wasn’t frigid to him, but she wasn’t overly attached either. Indifferent seemed to be the best way to describe her feelings, as though she cared for him as nothing more than a distant friend. She seemed to view this arrangement the same way he did - a duty to her family and a business transaction. Nothing more.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” Raven’s head tilted to the side and she stared at him again, blatantly reading his face. He felt uncomfortable, letting her sharp eyes watch him. She seemed to see more than anyone else had. “I see hundreds of couples a year, and I’ve learned to pick out who truly cares for each other, and who really doesn't know what they want."

Damian took another bite of the pistachio cake, never looking away from her face. Even when she was picking him apart, she was beautiful. "And I take it that you believe I'm the latter?"

"I don't just believe, I know." She handed him another slice of cake. "Orange spice."

"I'm not particular about marrying for love. I've never subscribed to the idea." The orange spice was by far the best, and it immediately went on the short-list.

A pitying look crossed her face. "You don't believe in love?"

That question made him pause, and he looked back at her, his head filled with something akin to smoke. It was like he couldn’t think beyond her question. "I… don't know." He realized with some small amount of shock that he really didn't know. As he sat there, watching her, he realized that he never thought he would fall in love. He had crushes and minor relationships, but nothing that he would call love. Nothing that made him feel like the world was falling out from under his feet, and he was left clamoring for something that made him whole.

“You look surprised by your own answer.” Raven’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed up by the silence between them. “Did you honestly think you would never fall in love?”

“I suppose I did.” Damian took another bite of cake and shifted in his seat. “Love never seemed like something I gave much thought to. My duty has always been to my family, and as long as I am comfortable, I don’t see the need for much else.”

Raven pulled out another slice of cake. “Have you thought that maybe you haven’t met the right person?”

Damian’s face fell and he stared at her, taking the slice of cake from her. “That seems a trite response.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps. That’s vanilla and rose water.”

Damian’s face scrunched at the flavor and he pushed it away. “That rose water is abhorrent.”

A soft laugh escaped and Raven shook her head. “Rose water is very en vogue right now. I’m not fond of it, but some people like it.” She took the slice back and leaned against the counter. “So, tell me if you don’t mind, why are you putting all this effort into a wedding with someone you don't have feelings for?"

"It's meant to be a performance." He hummed softly, thinking. “Both of our families have a reputation to uphold, and if we don’t live up to that expected standard, the media will tear us apart. Emiko doesn’t need any poor publicity.”

“Mm. I understand to a point.” She paused and pulled out another slice of cake. “You’re very pragmatic about this.”

The way she said that didn’t sound like a compliment. Damian took the offered cake. “I don’t require your approval.”

“I never said you did. I’m only in this for the absolutely exorbitant fee you’re paying me.” She smirked. “But… I am curious, don’t you want to fall in love? Just once?”

“And who would I fall in love with?” He took a bite of cake and practically sighed. Chocolate and orange.

“You’re a Wayne. More than half the world would be willing to fall in love with you. Take your pick.”

“I don’t think you can force love.”

Raven shrugged. “Well, your upstanding camaraderie with your fiance doesn’t fit the bill either.”

He blinked and took another bite of the cake. This was the one. “I never intended to love her. Our partnership will be fine.”

Raven lifted an eyebrow. “So… what happens if you fall in love with someone before you get married?”

“I hardly think that will happen.” He scoffed and took a third bite of the cake. He doubted he would find anyone who could coax him to fall in love. That seemed like an impossible task. “And even if I did, it changes nothing.”

“You’re so committed to this marriage. It’s admirable.” Her smile widened. “I take it the orange and chocolate one is the winner? You’ve eaten half the slice already.”

“You’re talented at this.” He took another bite and met her stare. “What about you?”

“I think the chocolate orange will both make a statement and still be appropriately conservative.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His eyes searched hers, and he suddenly realized he had to know. He had to know if there was anyone in her life that meant more than just a friend. He wanted to know who her heart beat for. “Are you in love?”

Color crawled up her neck. “That’s a pretty personal question to ask your baker.”

Damian shrugged. “For what I’m paying you, humor me.”

She chewed on her lower lip and glanced away, and she shifted for a moment. “Currently? No. I was in love once, but… it faded.” She looked back into his eyes. “But that doesn’t make it any more special and important.”

"And you want to fall in love again?" He felt strange and a little invasive asking these questions, but some part of him wanted to know. He wanted to know not just about falling in love, but Raven falling in love specifically. Would she fall in love again? And with whom?

"Of course." Her voice was soft and gentle, and she gave him a small, almost sad smile. "I haven’t found the right person to fall for just yet. But it’ll come.”

Something in Damian’s chest twisted and he found himself reaching across the counter to rest his hand next to hers. It was as close as he dared to get to her. She met his stare for a long moment, and that feeling in his chest turned almost painful. He wanted to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, to feel her skin under his fingertips, but his hand stayed firmly pressed against the cool marble of the counter.

He swallowed slowly and nodded. “The chocolate orange.”

#damirae #demonbirds #I DID SOMETHING #whatever this is #baker au

[pennylanewrites]

I got seven different asks about the College AU so here are some headcanons I have about them! (imagine aiura is in the picture I couldn’t find a good one with all of them)

I definitely didn’t mean to make this so long but I can’t help it I love them all so much<3

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Saiki Kusuo

→ marine!!!biology!!!major!!!!!!!!

→ doesn’t need to study but he still does bc he finds marine life so fascinating

→ read all of his textbooks on the first day bc he was so excited eeeek

→ always wears his germanium ring in class so he can stay hashtag focused

→ him and aiura have to bail toritsuka(didn’t go to college) out of jail once a month

→ speaking of aiura, she somehow has convinced him to go on a date on five different occasions

→ i think after high-school he realised he didn’t mind a kind of casual not-relationship with her

→ lets her hug him to greet him and sometimes he hugs back bc college boys stare a lot and he is just worried for her okay?

→ maybe I’m just projecting bc I kin aiura

→ does not go to parties unless he absolutely has to

→ if he does go to a party he’ll drink something quietly in a corner, just watching the crowd

→ a perv laced Teruhashi’s drink and almost lured her up the stairs so of fucking course Kusuo sprinted to help her, holding her on the way home bc men are drawn to her like bees to honey

→ she didn’t let him live it down ever

→ he rented a studio apartment and keeps it super clean, minimum clutter but enough to look lived in

→ cooks amazing food that Nendo smells from upstairs and next thing you know, they’re all bringing chairs to Kusuo’s apartment and have dinner

→ nothing excuses the fact he makes at least eight servings every time–

→ such a dad to everyone honestly

→ usually studies at a library or teleports back home if there’s a big test

→ mrs. saiki was banned from visiting every two days but she still ends up there somehow

→ not that he minds bc he’s the biggest mama’s boy ever

→ probably graduates a year early

→ doesn’t move away even though he got a job at the aquarium at the other side of the city help–

Kaidou Shun

→ fine arts major you can NOT change my mind

→ doesn’t do good in theoretical subjects but mans can draw some good bowls of fruit

→ wears those stained from the paints t-shirts all the time bc ‘no they’re not dirty it’s art!’

→ him and aren have small designated spaces in their apartment so they can focus on their hobbies/studying

→ his corner at the living room has newspapers on the floor to protect it from the splattering paint, some canvases propped up on the wall and a lot of unfinished projects

→ hides all of them when Nendou comes over

→ can not cook or clean to save his life

→ so he calls his mum to help clean up when Aren is at work

→ got over his 8th grader syndrome at some point

→ still wears red bandages bc he’s edgy

→ volunteers at the neighborhood exhibit centre

→ got asked to showcase his own works for a night and hasn’t shut up about it since

→ goes to yumehara for relationship advice and braids her hair as a thank you

→ couples sleepovers with Yumehara and Teruhashi (yes they’re dating shut up)

→ always makes something for Aren at special occasions (birthdays, anniversaries etc)

→ at first he went back home every saturday bc he missed his family :(

→ Aren helps him get over it though!!!!

Nendou Riki

→ got in on a sports scholarship

→ we already know he couldn’t be accepted in a college otherwise

→ in the chiropractic major bc he wants to be one of those athlete doctors

→ has failed way too many exams and classes

→ Hairo helps him so much though!!!

→ the last one in the group to graduate but somehow gets a job first (excluding Saiki)

→ him and hairo get up at 5 am for jogging or to hit the gym

→ and then he goes and gets noodles bc ‘if noodles aren’t for breakfast why do shops open at 6 am?’

→ hasn’t stepped foot in class in months

→ he gets decent grades after failing the first semester and it’s totally not Saiki’s doing

→ he ends up signing up for way too many clubs

→ attends all of the meetings and has so many friends through them

→ I would be his friend too in college honestly

→ a fraternity wanted to get him bc he’s so good at sports

→ he declined bc he does not understand how fraternities even work

→ is the life of EVERY SINGLE PARTY change my mind you can’t

→ whatever you do don’t imagine nendo surprising his boyfriend with flowers after every practice

→ *dies cutely*

Kuboyasu Aren

→ SOCIOLOGY MAJOR

→ idk I just think he would enjoy Marx’s Capital

→ debate club? hell yeah

→ gets in philosophical conversations at the school yard for HOURS

→ kaidou has to drag him away

→ only shops at thrift stores and makes coffee at home bc “capitalism is not accepted in this household”

→ rides his motorcycle to college even though he lives five minutes away

→ grew his hair out in a mullet again and he looks *chef’s kiss*

→ thought he would be moving too fast if he asked Kaidou to rent an apartment together

→ aiura convinced him it was fine

→ cooks kaidou’s favorite foods every day

→ participates in student rallies, human rights protests etc etc

→ comes home with bruises and kaidou thinks he looks so hot but still yells at him

→ Aren’s favorite place to study is his balcony or at a coffee shop

→ always with kaidou! cute boyfriends who do everything together!!

→ gets so drunk when they go out

→ drunk karaoke with kokomi yes yes yes

Hairo Kineshi

→ did someone say Athletic Training?

→ does every single sport and is amazing at it

→ will cheer for his bf if they have a game at the same time though

→ it was his idea to move in together bc ‘hey we’ve been dating for three years now might as well’

→ volunteers at a nearby elementary as a coach for the kids

→ SO GOOD WITH KIDS

→ wants to be a P.E. Teacher and he’s going to be great at it

→ does everything he can at campus

→ helping random clubs, making posters, cleaning up the hallways, helping the cheer squad with their new routine

→ dances ballet as a hobby even though he’s so good at it that he could be a professional

→ makes everything a competition with Nendo so they never get bored

→ once made everyone get up to jog with them and they ended up sleeping on random benches while Hairo and Nendo were halfway across town

→ will punch someone if he sees them catcalling a girl

→ doesn’t drink at all and eats super healthy

→ designated driver for the group’s outings downtown

Aiura Mikoto

→ THEATER MAJOR

→ is so good at stage acting it’s unreal

→ lands the lead role almost every time

→ is also an amazing singer so she gets great roles in musicals as well

→ doesn’t have to get a job bc she gets all her money from doing readings on campus

→ gets coffees and pastries from all the coffee shops around campus and sits Kusuo down so he can taste them

→ they have a little taste-testing date in his apartment until they decide none of them are as good as the ones at Cafe Mami

→ she totally doesn’t make him teleport there every morning and he totally doesn’t listen to her

→ moved in with chiyo bc they wanted a nice place that they couldn’t afford on their own

→ teruhashi told them to move in with her but they already loved their little place

→ aiura’s bedroom is the most comfortable and cozy room ever

→ their apartment is also the hang out spot for the group bc it’s just so homey

→ hangs out with her theatre group a lot, especially after class

→ they can’t compare to her friends though:(

→ everyone goes to her when they’re worried and she loves it bc she’s the mummy of the group

→ she makes everyone coffee and their comfort food before big exams:)

Yumehara Chiyo

→ psychology major one thousand percent

→ you know how they say that people choose psychology bc they don’t know what major they want?

→ that’s exactly what happened except she fell in love with it immediately

→ such a good student!!!

→ always does her assignments on time and still manages to have a social life

→ teruhashi asked her out at the end of their first semester and that’s the first time chiyo missed a deadline

→ practically lives with teruhashi, insisting it’s just to leave aiura alone

→ she’s just IN LOVE OKAY?????

→ would want to be a sorority girl at first

→ changed her mind when she realized how much shit they all talked

→ her and kaidou drink wine and talk about their relationships and studies

→ she’s so sleep deprived it’s unreal

→ she doesn’t need sleep anymore though

→ coffee is her best friend

→ makes asks Aiura for readings twice a week

→ brings all her psychology friends home and they analyze their textbooks

→ once she got the hang of it, she decided to examine Kusuo

→ she told him he needs actual medical evaluation

→ he almost threw her out the window when she offered some Xanax for his nerves

→ chiyo is a neat freak one hundred percent

→ hates when Aiura throws everything on the floor, but she loves cleaning

→ opens her own office after school

Teruhashi Kokomi

→ PRE-MED

→ lesbian doctor :)

→ just wanted to get away from her perv brother at first

→ she always wanted to be a doctor though, preferably a neurosurgeon

→ she’s super duper smart and hates when she gets good grades bc of her good looks:(

→ makes it her goal to show her professors that she’s more than a beautiful girl

→ hasn’t failed a single exam

→ helps everyone with their studies even though she’s drowning in work

→ drops the perfect girl image at college and decides she should try and aim for something normal

→ gets invited to every single party

→ in a knitting club bc it would get disbanded without one more member

→ knits!!!matching!!!sweaters!!!for all of her friends!!!

→ asked Chiyopipi out while drunk

→ never regretted it though

→ her and aren get so drunk when they go out with the group

→ it’s honestly unreal how much they can drink before passing out

→ has to get carried home

→ wakes up after getting drunk and runs to her class before remembering it’s Sunday

→ her penthouse has the perfect view of the sunset and sunrise and is all she could ask for in life

→ does get lonely so she’s practically living with Chiyo and Aiura

→ once she realized she didn’t like boys she made it her goal to get Saiki and Aiura together

→ people wonder how she has so much time to play matchmaker and volunteer while she’s in premed

→ does her internship at a hospital

→ ends up working there as a neurosurgeon after her Doctorate degree

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

#saiki kusuo no ψ nan #tdlosk #saiki k no psi nan #saiki kusuo #nendou saiki k #nendou riki #kaidou headcanons #kaidou shun #kaidou x aren #saiki k headcanons #teruhashi #teruhashi kokomi #aiura mikoto #yumehara chiyo #nendou x hairo #hairo kineshi #aren x shun #aren kuboyasu #saiki k #Kusuo #college au #anime headcanons #anime fluff #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk headcanons

[norcumii]

...oh thanks, Tumblr, it wasn’t like I was trying to answer that ask or anything. -_-

OHKAY. Take two! For this trope mashup meme, @dogmatix asked:

Rex/Obi or pairing/characters of choice - Apocalyse AU / Mermaid/Siren AU / Aroused by their voice

This modern!AU got a liiiiiittle bit more absurdist than planned, but NO REGRETS. Assistance was provided by @dharmaavocado and @deadcatwithaflamethrower -- THANK YOU BOTH!

*****

There was a lovely breeze coming in across the ocean, the sky had just enough puffy white clouds to keep things interesting, and Rex was taking a maintenance day. The last family group of tourists to charter a day trip had included several children that were at least two parts sticky and three parts grime. His poor Vigilance needed a serious scrub down, and Rex was not looking forward to restocking. Small Grubby Fiend 1 had stumbled – supposedly due to a sudden swell, but more likely because Small Grubby Fiends 2 and 3 hadn’t stopped ‘not kicking’ each other for way too long. Not being an entire idiot, Rex has gone right for the band-aids with cartoon characters, but since it wasn’t a cartoon Small Grubby Fiend 1 liked, that meant another – until all three Small Grubby Fiends had been plastered with far more of his first aid kit than was good for anyone.

It had been a long day.

So there he was, untangling life-vests that hadn’t even been used, while singing along with whatever music was playing from the boat’s speakers. Rex wasn’t sure if the music was pop, rock, or some other unholy category he’d never heard of, but thankfully it didn’t matter. He liked it, and could figure out which of Tup’s mix tapes it was on, which was the important thing.

Tup always made hilarious offended noises when Rex called them mix tapes, which was a significant reason why he did so. They were music folders, sensibly labeled by mood, because his little brother had realized at some point that was the only way to keep Rex up to date on anything past the 90’s grunge music.

Tup’s accusation, not his. Rex damn well knew how to use a radio – several kinds of radio, thank you very much.

He was several songs into mind-numbing chores when he spotted a flash of red streaking under the dock, and Rex ducked his head to hide a grin. He’d started spotting movement like that a couple of weeks ago, around the time the neighbors descended on their beach house. There were several ginger teenagers, so he figured one of them was a hell of a water rat who had damn odd taste in music.

To be fair, so did he.

It’d been weird at first, realizing he had an audience that disappeared the moment he acknowledged their existence. But the most he heard or saw out of them beyond the momentary glimpse was a bit of percussion, someone drumming in time against the water – and once, the dock itself – so Rex had shrugged and accepted their presence. It was kinda nice, actually, just to have someone around. He lived a ways off the end of a long, sparsely populated road, and while he didn’t mind the solitude, sometimes you just wanted another–

Rex’s train of thought went off the rails with a loud yelp as he discovered something slimy stuck to the back of a life-vest. It might have been edible once – it was a shade of radioactive green he didn’t associate with anything other than candy or video games, at least, so that was his best guess. Much as he wanted to blame the Small Grubby Fiends, he hadn’t done more than a spot check of these vests for awhile – could’ve been anyone.

Ugh. At least unlike some clients he could name, Rex’s eavesdropper wasn’t vandalizing anything. Wasn’t about to begrudge that.

Rex had managed to get most of the neon green grossness cleared when the rumble of an approaching car caught his attention. He wasn’t expecting visitors, not that that had ever stopped any of his brothers. Lost delivery drivers usually turned around before hitting up the driveway, which was long enough and had enough private property signs to keep out idiots looking for easy water access.

“Who the hell is this?” he muttered, setting the vest aside. He didn’t recognize the little black car, or the burly guy stepping out of the passenger’s side, but the guy waved and casually started towards Rex as if he knew who the hell he was.

Not reassuring, especially since the stranger rapped the car’s roof, and it headed back up the driveway.

“You seem lost,” Rex said, standing up and trying to look just the right level of intimidating.

“Nope,” the guy said back, still heading towards him. “Need your boat.”

“That’s work related – you need to wait till I’m back at the marina tomorrow. I’m at home, it’s my day off.”

Burly guy finally stopped, planting his hands on his hips – a move which just happened to part the jacket of his cheap suit enough that Rex could see the gun he carried. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Fett. I don't want any trouble – I just want you to head inside, and take that day off while I borrow your boat.”

Oh, FUCK. Nobody really talked about how the mob owned most of the marinas in Tatooine Bay, but you didn’t need to declare water was wet to get drenched in the rain. It just wasn’t something that ever happened to someone you knew, just friends of friends or something.

“And if I don’t agree?” he couldn’t keep from asking.

Burly Guy had a surprisingly expressive shrug. “Most people don’t enjoy pushing their luck that far.”

To his credit, it was a remarkably polite threat. “I’m surprised anyone ever does.”

“Eh, every now and then there’s some freaky masochist looking for cheap thrills, but it ain’t my kink. Don’t think it’s yours, either, so if you’d just head inside, that’d be appreciated.”

The smart move was probably to comply. Rex wasn’t inclined to cooperate anyways. He was saved from making either bad decision by...sound.

It didn’t register as singing – there was something too off about it, a combination that wasn’t quite autotune, or that polyphonic singing Echo had gotten into when Fives got obsessed with the guitar. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t right in a way that was madly distracting.

The...singing? – pulled both Rex and the goon around towards the end of the dock, and if Rex hadn’t been so muzzy-headed from that sound he would have been gaping much more blatantly.

There was someone slipping out from under the dock, and it was most definitely not one of the neighbors.

It was a trim, shirtless figure in the water – ginger indeed, short red hair just dry enough to be messy spikes. Pale skin was freckled in scales of shimmering reds, protective lines over what would be vulnerable areas on a human. It swam close enough to the surface that Rex could see the sleek fins and tail, and part of his brain kept screaming ‘mermaid!’ while the rest took in the long, sharp claws on webbed hands and whispered ‘predator.’ Its singing showed sharply pointed teeth, and it should not have been nearly that gorgeous.

The mermaid glanced over at him, eyes a deep blue-on-blue that could never masquerade as human, flicking a look up and down him that could have been flattering or terrifying – it all depended on if that was measuring him for a meal euphemistically or not.

The singing changed as the creature turned its attention back to the goon, and the magnetic pull on Rex lessened. He staggered back a step, not too surprised to find he was halfway down the dock without noticing. The hazy feeling in his brain stopped, or at least dropped down to levels that were close enough to normal, so he got a clear view as the goon started walking into the water, oblivious to everything except the mer-siren-thing he was shambling towards.

The siren moved when the goon was almost waist deep in the water, flowing forward to delicately place a hand at the goon’s throat. The singing continued, but now there was a new undertone, soft and somehow questioning. Rex couldn’t tell if there were words to it or not – maybe a whole other language for all he knew – but the goon responded, voice soft enough that he couldn’t make out what was said.

Whatever he said, it didn’t please the siren. It kept singing, but it snarled, showing more of those pointed teeth, then it twisted and dove, hauling the unresisting goon under the water.

A terrifying few moments more, and the last hums of the song seemed to stop vibrating through the water.

“What the absolute fuck?” Rex said numbly. Thank everything, no one answered.

A smart man would’ve hidden inside, or driven off to a movie theater or something – inland and away. Rex wasn’t sure why he stayed: curiosity – morbid or otherwise – shock, or a healthy disbelief in the whole debacle. He was maybe a bit too numb to not have some kind of shock, but –

He felt like he maybe deserved it. “Yeah, I can have a bit of shock,” Rex muttered to himself. “As a treat.”

Okay, he might have more than a bit. But by the time the siren poked his head out of the water again – politely out of arms’ reach – Rex had calmed down a decent degree. They just looked at each other for a bit, then the siren gave him a polite nod.

“Hello there,” he said in a pleasant, deep voice with a hell of an accent.

Rex held up a hand, needing a moment. Of fucking course the British even colonized under the goddamned sea. “Hi. You speak English.” It wasn’t quite the most inane thing he could’ve said, but his brain hadn’t managed to catch up yet.

He was talking to a goddamned mermaid who had just kidnapped and possibly eaten some mob thug who’d been trying to take Rex’s boat. It had been a day.

“You’re not the first land-dweller I’ve made the acquaintance of.”

Rex absolutely refused to make any kind of a crack about being charmed. There was too much hysteria lurking in there. “Speaking of acquaintances, you didn’t, ah, kill that guy, did you?”

The siren’s lips pulled back from his teeth a little. “I still haven’t decided what to do with him, so right now he’s out of the way.” He must’ve seen something impressive in Rex’s expression, because the angry disdain smoothed over to something more neutral. “He’s stashed in a cave I know. Enough air to breathe, but the only entrance is underwater and too far for most humans to swim without assistance.”

That was...a lot. “Thanks for the help.”

The siren smiled, an oddly sweet, bashful expression. “I’d be a very poor guest if I didn’t assist.” He cleared his throat, his expression going awkward. “Though I...suppose ‘guest’ is a bit presumptive.”

Rex grinned. “No, I spotted you a couple weeks ago – ah, I mean, sort of.” Before he could make more a hash of that, he cleared his throat. “The name’s Rex.”

The siren folded his hands together and did a little bow thing. “Obi-Wan. Pleasure to meet you.”

He wasn’t blushing. He absolutely was not blushing. “So...you in town for long?” Ok, now he was blushing, that was worst subject change ever meeting worst fishing attempt – meeting worst and wildly inappropriate pun.

Obi-Wan’s expression fell, sorrow way too visible in those non-human eyes. “I suppose you could say that. I...no longer have a home to return to.”

Definitely not a topic to change to. Right. Rex cleared his throat and shifted. “Well. You’re welcome anytime, for what that’s worth.”

The slow-growing smile didn’t remove that sorrow, but it did kindle something warm inside. This was at least three different kinds of trouble, but Rex didn’t think he’d regret any of it.

~end

#star wars #My writing #meme #trope mashup #Rex/Obi #mermaid #dogmatix #still not thrilled with how it wraps but it's certainly not the worst fic ending I've read recently #oh I'm still salty #whoops? #meanwhile there's several lines in here i adore more than is reasonable #AND I DON'T CARE

[fieurissons]

without you i’m so—, minwon, wc: 1900..... (sorry?)

from despite relentless blue, despite snow.

"So…" Mingyu begins, dipping his head to meet Wonwoo's eyes. "I'll go first?"

The fingers on his shoulder squeeze, grounding Wonwoo to him. Even though he's been nothing but sure up until this point, the assurance is a welcome help. "Yeah. Yes."

"Okay," he sandwiches Wonwoo's hands in between his. Mingyu kisses him chastely, revelling in the satisfied sigh Wonwoo lets out. "So, I've started to prepare."

He can see the gears turning in Wonwoo's head. Mingyu has learned there's no value to gain from interrupting his thought process, so he gives Wonwoo a moment to dissect his sentence. He looks at Mingyu, then looks away, then looks at Mingyu again.

"Prepare?"

Mingyu nods. "I'm coming with you."

The scene is painted vividly in his head: him and Wonwoo, living together in a charming central Tokyo apartment. Rent can be a pain in the ass and they're not allowed to have any pets, but Wonwoo promises him a dog once they've bought a house—in whichever country, that's a debate for the future—and Mingyu holds him up to his words. They're going to have a Shiba. Wonwoo, ever the tease, will insist on calling the dog a variation of Mingyu's name at first, and Mingyu shall pout and pout until he agrees to a ceasefire.

Smiling, he retrieves his laptop and opens the Powerpoint presentation he prepared. Oh, yes. Mingyu came prepared. Wonwoo's undoubtedly going to drill him to within an inch of his life, poking holes into every aspect of his plan he deems slightly unsound. Mingyu expects nothing less.

He walks Wonwoo through what he's come up with. Mingyu keeps to a steady pace; not overwhelming, but not slow enough to challenge Wonwoo's patience. The timeline hinges on him being able to pick up Japanese beyond what Wonwoo has been casually teaching him, and there's not much room to move things around. But Mingyu's optimistic he has what it takes. Once Wonwoo weighs in, he'll have a more detailed view.

"N-3 is a pretty realistic goal, yeah?" Mingyu asks. "I can probably find a position that doesn’t have any language requirements, ask for a referral from my company here—but we’ll have to see how it goes. Otherwise, I can get a working holiday programme visa first. What do you think?"

He pauses, remembering the visa turnaround times he searched up last week. The thought alone bothers him, but there are things beyond their control. They have to do their best with what they can. "You’ll probably have to live there alone for the first few months."

Wonwoo stares at the screen, swallowing thickly. "I think," he says, and Mingyu braces himself for impact. "You should think about it some more. Don't make big decisions on impulse."

Hold on. That's not the kind of impact he prepared for.

"On impulse?" He just outlined a comprehensive plan with SMART goals! There's nothing inadvertent about what Mingyu is doing. "I'm probably one of the least impulsive people you know."

Mingyu can be impulsive when the situation demands it. Like when Wonwoo sauntered up to him at Seungcheol and Jeonghan's engagement party, the taste of champagne on his lips and one hand cupping Mingyu through his linen pants—then yeah, he's all for spontaneity. But he's careful, too. He's always careful when it comes to his treasure.

"Which is why I know you don't want to come with me—"

"I don't want?" Mingyu interrupts, pointing out the error. "But I just said I did, hyung."

Frustration colouring his features, Wonwoo removes himself from Mingyu's lap. The ache spreading through Mingyu's chest is an old acquaintance.

"You’re making me think you’re the one who doesn’t want this." Tell me I'm wrong, he begs wordlessly. Wonwoo has no response to his plea. Mingyu sighs, defeated, and closes the laptop. "Ah. That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want me to go with you."

He never considered that possibility. Perhaps love is indeed blind.

"It's complicated," Wonwoo argues. It always is with him, but Mingyu's done well in navigating the complexities. Or at least he thought so. He reaches out to Mingyu, but his touch feels somewhat much to handle at the moment. "Mingyu."

"We should talk about this at another time."

"No, please." Mingyu stands up and walks around the couch. "I—"

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "We can do the long-distance thing, Gyu." Has Wonwoo been listening to him? They don't have to—that's the entire point of Mingyu coming with him. "I know we can make it work. You and I."

Where's your Powerpoint on that? Mingyu wants to bite back. Between the two of them, Wonwoo's not usually the one who comes into a discussion without having done a literature review on the topic. Without supporting evidence to back up his stance.

He doesn't understand why Wonwoo would rather be separated, when he can end his days with Mingyu's home-cooked dinners. When he can return to a warm bed with his loved one in it, not an empty mattress with untucked sheets. Does he not think about those moments and how wonderful they'd be, shared with the right person? Does he not have Mingyu written into his plans?

“It’s not that simple,” Wonwoo insists. “We’re not even living together right now, how can you say you want to uproot your life to move with me?”

Mingyu's mouth moves on autopilot, countering Wonwoo's every point. He remains unconvincing in the end and the expression on Wonwoo's face has only soured. Okay. Mingyu won't beg. Wonwoo made his feelings on the matter clear and Mingyu respects him too much to dismiss them. He needs time and space to recover from the disappointment though, so Mingyu swipes his jacket from the couch.

Then—then, Wonwoo truly surprises him.

"Do you love me?"

"What?" Mingyu whispers, shell-shocked.

"Do you love me?" Wonwoo says again.

"Jeon Wonwoo, what's gotten into you?" He regrets the way he raised his voice, but Mingyu can't believe what Wonwoo'd just asked him. Does he love him? How's that ever a question? Yes, he loves him. He loved Wonwoo the first time he'd rested his head on his shoulder, sharing a secret with him. He loved Wonwoo when he fixed Mingyu's scarf and almost kissed him, promises be damned. He loves him now. He never not loves him. "Of course I love you. You're the love of my life."

"Exactly."

Mingyu doesn't understand. "'Exactly'?"

"I don't want that to change," Wonwoo says, small.

"What are you talking about?"

"You have an entire life here," Wonwoo breaks it to him gently. "Your family, your friends, your job—"

"You."

HIs shoulder sags, Wonwoo covering his face with one hand. "I'm just one thing."

Oh, no. Mingyu can understand rejection, given it comes with the right reasons. But this he cannot accept. Will not accept.

"You're everything," Mingyu corrects him. "How can you talk about yourself like that?" Wonwoo mumbles something about not being perfect and God, Mingyu wishes he can see the world through Mingyu's eyes. "You are perfect."

"I'm not," Wonwoo says again, "but you're the first person who made me want to try to be." Mingyu shakes his head, but Wonwoo's not done. "The way you look at me, the way you’ve always looked at me—I don’t want to lose that. If I take you away from all the things you love, if I whisk you away to a foreign land where you will only have me, and you find that I alone am not enough for you... it will ruin me. I’d easily disappoint everyone else in this world, but not you."

The lighting in the room softens. Mingyu remembers running to Wonwoo's first apartment. Remembers telling him, Good job, hyung. Remembers how Wonwoo had shifted closer and revealed how important those words were to him.

"Not you. Never you."

He launches his feet forward, pulling Wonwoo against his chest. Mingyu holds him tight in hopes the warmth will erase Wonwoo's cold doubts.

"I love you, Mingyu."

“Then don’t torture me with separation,” Mingyu says quietly, murmuring the request into Wonwoo's hair. “I told you I value your freedom. I respect it. I hope you respect mine, too, especially when my heart decides it wants to always be near you.”

"I don't want you to grow resentful of me."

This brilliant, ridiculous man. Mingyu can never get enough of his intellect, but at times Wonwoo can be so frustrating.

"Wonwoo-hyung." Wonwoo looks up at him through wet lashes. "You don't love me more than I love you, you know?"

"What?" asks Wonwoo, confused.

"Don't you think it's just as likely that you'll get sick of me?"

"No," Wonwoo replies hurriedly. "That's not—"

"Possible?" Mingyu smiles, teeth all showing. "I know, because I feel the same way." Thank you for proving my point, kitten. "This is our life, yeah? Together. I’m in this for the long run. Me hating you, that’s a null event. Zero probability of it happening, I promise you that."

Slow blinks turn into Wonwoo closing his eyes to kiss him, arms circling his neck as he deepens the exchange. Mingyu loves him now, too.

"We…" Wonwoo licks his lips. "We should practice first."

Mingyu knows perfectly well what that means, but he wants to hear Wonwoo say it. "Practice?"

"Living together."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Will you?" he shyly asks.

Mingyu lights up, a newborn sun. "Yes. God, yes. I want to live with you." Perhaps it would be okay, to share some of his dreams with Wonwoo. Perhaps they would be safe with him, as Mingyu had been all these years. "I think… it'd be nice to wake up in the morning and reach to the other side of the bed and always find you there."

"Even if living with me eventually means moving to another country?"

Even then. "Absolutely."

"Okay," Wonwoo agrees. "That does sound really nice."

"Then it's settled?"

"We can take a look at your Powerpoint in the morning."

See? Mingyu knows his man. "Okay."

"And I'll help you study for the test."

Sounds like a nightmare. Mingyu's bound to make a thousand spelling mistakes. "Sounds wonderful."

"There's a chance I'll change my mind again."

"Don't worry. I'll persuade you each time." Happily—as long as Wonwoo promises to allow him.

"And I'll let you argue your points."

He grins, tilting his head back to better allow Wonwoo's fingers in his hair. "That's all I ask. Let's get cleaned up and go to sleep, kitten."

It never ceases to amaze him, how easily Wonwoo reacts to the word. His eyes, his breath, his body. He presses closer to Mingyu, mouthing at the dip where his collarbones meet. "Mingyu, thank you."

"You're welcome," he returns. "You know I'm proud of you, right?"

Wonwoo whines softly. "Don't hate me?"

"Never," Mingyu swears, kissing his forehead. "You're the love of my life." He's said that twice now. He wants so desperately to know they're on the same page, yet he can't help the way his voice wavers slightly when he asks, "Am I yours?"

He leans away just enough to stare up at Mingyu. There's an answer in his gaze, delivered sooner than any words. Wonwoo looks like he's never been more sure of anything else. "Yes," he says with a smile, "and in my next lives too, I imagine."

What dreams do you have? Mingyu thinks as he kisses him again. What lives do we live, in your head? Tell me. Wonwoo kisses him back, licking into his mouth. Tell me everything, so I can make them come true.

#q #kiss and don’t tell #minwon #writing

[comradekatara]

ik this is an atla blog but... could we hear some of ur izumi headcanons? (perhaps a sprinkle of izumi x kya if ur feelin generous)

been sittin on this ask since april (sorry!!!) bc i wanted to give this question the attention it deserved (and also there are just. a lot of asks in the inbox to get thru. oof). also yess i’m glad someone else is as fascinated by the potential of kya/izumi dyke drama as i am. fwiw, all of this is canon-compliant with what we know (so far) from lok. some of these have already been said, but it never hurts to rehash deep lore...

izumi is found in a dumpster. when it becomes apparent to zuko that whoever left her there isn’t coming back for her, he decides to take her to a local orphanage. he’s halfway there by the time he has already become irrevocably attached to this quiet, curious, perfect baby and is like “okay my baby now” and takes her home.

when katara gets a postscript at the bottom of a letter from zuko that simply says “oh by the way i have a daughter now” katara doesn’t even respond to the pages upon pages he wrote about import taxes and all that boring shit. zuko merely receives one page in response and all it says is “YOU HAD SEX???? WITH A WOMAN????”

zuko refuses to tell katara the truth. her version is better.

izumi is raised by the firelord and a small army of lesbians. zuko has to stop his friends from trying to give her knives all the time. yes, knives used to be a very loving gift during the war, but he’s trying to teach her about nonviolence goddammit!!!

she never has a crisis of sexuality or feels any pressure to like boys. she’s a lesbian and she knows it. everyone but suki is secretly baffled by how well-adjusted this child is. (suki doesn’t get the big deal.)

izumi knows that she is the crown princess, and that this means that she is going to be firelord someday. zuko always told her that being firelord is about being able to use their nation’s resources to help as many people as possible, and since two of izumi’s favorite things are puzzles and helping people, she is really looking forward to being firelord.

her other favorite thing is reading, which zuko obviously encourages but also finds quite strange because he always assumed reading was an activity solely pursued by sadder, lonelier children.

because she often gets so engrossed in her books that she accidentally stays up all night reading in the dark, zuko gets in the habit of placing extra-long candles in her room that will burn all night so she doesn’t have to strain her eyes. as she gets older and starts spending more time in the library, she winds up just carrying a sack full of zuko’s candles around just in case. it quickly becomes a family joke--if you end up in a dark room, better find izumi.

she winds up wearing glasses by the age of six. zuko is very worried about what this means for her future until izumi points out that her favorite people are visually impaired and they’re doing just fine.

she really likes toph, but thinks her kids are super weird. one of them is very regimented and disciplined in a way she cannot vibe with, and the other is very self-absorbed and theatrical. whenever toph brings lin and su around the palace, izumi ends up hanging out with toph instead.

one of izumi’s favorite pastimes is sokkawatching, which is like birdwatching, but instead of birds, she is studying sokka. she shadows him around all day and takes notes on what it is he is doing. she will hide behind curtains during meetings or walk just far enough behind him that he can’t see her. eventually sokka asks izumi if she would just like to, um, hang out?? but she gets so upset that he is now onto her that zuko has to intervene and convince her that sokka has no idea what he’s talking about, and that she is a master of espionage. since her cover has been blown, she needs a new mark, and starts following mai around instead.

when izumi is eight years old, her great-uncle iroh takes her and her aunt azula to ember island to see a show. izumi has quite a mature appreciation for theater for an eight-year-old—she reads plays, as any child of her father surely would, and has been known to enjoy live performances in the capital—but she fucking hates this play. she squirms in her seat until azula would look monstrous if she didn't take her to the restroom, and there the two of them remain until the curtain call. when it's over, iroh is quite convinced that the two of them concocted that little scheme together… and he's exactly right.

izumi starts attending meetings when she is eleven, and she constantly interrupts to ask questions. if anyone is bothered by this they wouldn’t dare let zuko know. all her questions are so smart and incisive anyway that very few people can find it in them to be annoyed when they are far too busy being impressed.

some monarchs might have felt a bit alarmed, and perhaps unnerved by thoughts of their own mortality, if their daughter applied herself to studying the work of running a country at as young of an age and with as much alacrity as izumi does. zuko, on the other hand, has been hating his job and showing it since 101 AG. izumi suspects the duties of the firelord aren't nearly as bad as all that, but her father is sensitive, and was forced into the role at a particularly difficult time. for her, studying how to run the country that her father has so carefully reformed so that she can step into the role as early as possible is a generous gift.

because izumi is the crown princess, there is little chance of her making it to adulthood without navigating a few awkward encounters with boys who hope to woo her. zuko is too saddened by the idea to know how to begin to prepare her for it. but as it turns out, izumi doesn’t need that from him. starting around the age of 12, she observes that many of the staff around the palace tend to read a lot of old-fashioned romance novels. seeking to better understand the entertainment choices of the women with whom she spends most of her time, izumi selects a handful of books from that genre to read for herself. she finds story after story about young, attractive members of the royal court finding love with unlikely suitors and suitresses. though these books aren’t to her taste at all, she understands the appeal and makes the logical connection that this type of story is viewed as a sort of script—the most sensational path a princess could possibly take. she practices saying variations of "no thank you" in her bedroom mirror until she settles on a polite enough tone that even the most earnest suitor couldn't possibly take issue with it, and that's that.

izumi starts demanding more homework. this ultimately means more work for sokka, who has to create an entirely new curriculum designed just for her, and then has to sit there while she does her homework in case she has any questions. and then, once she’s done, they go over it together and even if she gets everything right she forces him to point out areas in which she could have improved. suddenly sokka longs for the days that katara (and later toph) would yell at him that math is stupid and they shouldn’t have to learn it because they can bend. how foolish he had been at the time… he should have savored that…

izumi's first crush is on mai. it's humiliating, since she's well aware that mai has been playing with her since she was in diapers (and even faintly aware that mai and zuko had some sort of ambiguous summer fling as teenagers that they are now too embarrassed to talk about), but for a short stretch of time between the age of twelve and thirteen, suddenly izumi sees her old family friend in a new and magical light. and during that same stretch of time, she faintly hates ty lee. this confusing intrusion of unwanted feelings leads to a humiliating moment that is best described as izumi's first tantrum. when she is invited to join the adults at a casual dinner, izumi dashes for the seat as far from her object of her affections as possible, and when ty lee teases, "what? do we smell?" izumi blushes and buries her face in her water. she doesn't look up from her plate until mai asks her (repeatedly, as it seems izumi didn't hear her) to pass the dumplings. at this point, izumi doesn't know what else to do but to shove the entire remaining portion of dumplings into her mouth all at once and then flee the room. so she does.

in the morning, she is mortified and apologizes to everyone for her poor conduct. mai and ty lee are nothing but understanding, and mai jokes that now she knows where zuko got his table manners. ty lee adds that izumi was going to have to do something immature at some point, or else no one was gonna believe she was human. the two of them leave court a few days later, and by the time they visit again a few months after that, izumi is relieved to find that her crush has faded away.  

the first time izumi meets katara, she feels as if she is meeting a celebrity. since katara never comes to the fire nation if she can help it, their paths have yet to cross, but izumi has heard of her, as if she is this mythic creature, through many, many stories, each more outrageous than the last. izumi does not think that meeting katara will prove a particularly long encounter, since katara couldn’t possibly have the time of day for her. she is quickly proven wrong, since katara cooks her dinner herself and keeps piling more and more food onto her plate. izumi is too well-mannered to inform katara that she is full, and katara keeps insisting that she doesn’t eat enough. izumi has no idea how katara could possibly come to that conclusion, since they have known each other all of one hour, but according to katara, izumi must eat more.

other than trying to feed izumi every three seconds, katara is surprisingly normal. izumi had assumed she was some sort of terrifying goddess by the way people talk about her. she’s very warm and nurturing and personable and has no filter whatsoever. in fire nation meetings, everyone speaks formally as a sign of respect, but in the southern water tribe, apparently it’s considered rude if you’re not completely candid. at first, izumi is horrified by how freely people insult each other, but then she quickly becomes delighted by the fact that bluntness is considered a virtue, and formality, passive-aggression. everyone refers to each other by first name, no title, and they’re all like one big family. people still treat katara with reverence despite this, even though she makes it pretty clear that she’s tired of being hero-worshipped.

one of the most delightful qualities that izumi admires in katara is her ability to memorize, recite, and hunt down gossip. izumi is introverted and polite and would never dream of asking brazen questions like whether haru has finally seen sense and shaved that beast on his lip or whether toph is "still getting her story straight" about where her daughters came from. (as far as izumi knows, toph has only ever told just the one, tongue-in-cheek story: she made the girls herself out of clay and she'll earthbend them back into dust if they don't behave.) but izumi is awed by katara's willingness to just ask these kinds of questions and she decides to take a lesson from this approach. being direct doesn't hurt anyone when katara does it, and it's a skill that will eventually serve izumi very well as firelord.

the south pole is also where izumi first meets kya. to kya, who is being taught two very conflicting ideas of what the fire nation represents, meeting izumi firmly solidifies her in the “the fire nation is nice and progressive” camp. that said, she also knows that her mom would disapprove if she and izumi got involved… which only makes izumi all the more enticing, naturally.  

katara teaches izumi about what she considers to be the core tenets of her culture: “communal living, versatility & resourcefulness, democracy, and looking cute on a budget.”

izumi returns to the fire nation convinced that the southern water tribe is the coolest place in the entire world (and not just literally). sokka is so incredibly proud.

and, by the second time she visits katara, izumi is far more comfortable with going penguin sledding.

izumi attempts to go through a phase of teenage rebellion when she is fifteen, but zuko puts an end to it by encouraging her. he’s like “fuck yeah be gay do crimes.” learning that her dad was once a baleful vigilante/highwayman immediately quells her desire for antics & tomfoolery.

...well. most antics, anyway. a few weeks before izumi's second visit to the south pole, kya sends izumi a letter that includes an illustration of a particular type of plant that grows in the fire nation palace garden and a request that she bring a clipping back with her next time. apart from the produce garden where they grow fresh fruit and vegetables for the palace, the palace garden is considered the domain of suki and her friends, so izumi naively enlists suki to help her to find it. suki smirks to herself as she directs izumi to the right place and helps her cut a generous clipping of it. and that's the story of how, on izumi's second visit to the south pole, kya introduces her to the joys of recreational weed: a secret hobby the two of them will indulge in together all their lives, whenever they happen to see each other.

(though this, too, becomes a little less cool and a little less sexy when, one night back in the fire nation, izumi steps out onto her balcony and sees her father, her aunt, toph, sokka, and suki all smoking weed in the courtyard below.)

by the time kya is seventeen, she has petitioned katara that she ought to go travel the world on her own, since she’s the daughter of a nomad and a swashbuckling heroine, so it’s only right. katara finally relents. kya basically just makes a round tour of all the lesbian hotspots across the globe, from visiting her favorite auntie toph, to living it up on kyoshi island, to the fire palace, with a certain princess in mind.

katara keeps insisting to kya that no, she’s not a homophobe, she just disapproves of monarchs! so as a test kya brings the most heinous girl she knows (who isn’t su, that is) over for dinner, and katara has to be extremely gracious the entire time. after she leaves she says to kya “wow....... I love her :’)”

kya and izumi share an intellectual bent, an appreciation for music, and a desire to see the world. they also share their first kiss. izumi breathlessly expresses her surprise that smart, worldly kya hasn't been there before with one of the boys or girls at the south pole, but kya waves a hand and says that no one there is cool enough for her. when kya asks why izumi hasn't kissed anyone before, izumi just quips that books don't have lips as soft as kya's.

they have a whole "together-when-we're-in-the-same-place; single-when-we're-not" thing going on for a while, but izumi really loves to write love letters, and before they know what's happened, they're monogamous and living on opposite sides of the world. oops!

they are very much in love. they are also fully aware that their relationship has an expiration date, and it is the second izumi becomes firelord. kya may be reluctant to admit it, but her mom was right: being involved with the firelord…. well it’s a bad look. she comes from a long line of anti-imperialist revolutionaries. she can’t exactly settle down with a monarch. izumi, having been raised by zuko, is about as anti-monarchy as a monarch possibly can be, so she understands completely. they both agree that their duties come first, and when they do break up, it will be amicable and mutual. their last days spent together while still technically a couple are bittersweet.

izumi’s coronation mostly involves all of zuko’s old friends taking turns squishing her cheeks (even though she is an adult, and also the firelord now) and tearfully regaling her with anecdotes from her childhood, which she remembers perfectly well because she was there. she very graciously hugs and thanks all of them for forging a path to peace, promising to make them proud. they all assure her they already are.

she and kya break up that night, by the turtleduck pond. it is a quiet, poignant goodbye.

the following week, kya immediately travels to the north pole to rebound with the most repressed lesbian she can find. she thinks it’s only fitting.

izumi has a lot more freedom as firelord than zuko ever did, in large part due to the fact that no one ever thinks to question her legitimacy. she has a very commanding presence, always giving off the vibe that she is the most intelligent person in the room (whereas, of course, zuko gives off the vibe that he is just a little boy who loves arson… well into adulthood).

izumi thinks in lists, much like sokka and her aunt azula; unlike most people she knows, her favorite historical avatar is not kyoshi or even yangchen, but szeto, but it’s for good reason. she groups like things into categories and she groups tasks into mental to-do lists which are of course completely different from the to-do lists she does need to write down. this will serve her well as she will eventually go down in history as one of the firelords with the most documentation on her life and the lives of her allies—which is of course part of the point. so of course, she's also strategic about what she doesn't write down: the sexualities of the family friends one generation above her; the quiet trade agreement between the fire nation and the water tribes that favors the water tribes just enough that it would be a whole thing if certain loud fire nation citizens got word of it; and the story of the one time she kissed lin beifong.

izumi’s personal pet project is the implementation of countless public libraries across the country, which also double as shelters. the same way that zuko had a reputation as being the firelord who really revitalized theatre, izumi has a reputation for being horny4libraries, and she’s proud of that reputation, dammit.

one day, for seemingly no reason, sokka decides that he is simply too old to be micromanaging royalty. it was cool and funny and, well, necessary when he was 16, but now he really does have better things to be doing with his time. this doesn’t stop izumi from wheedling him for diplomatic advice, because she refuses to part with such a valuable asset, so instead sokka agrees to play her in pai sho whenever she “needs it.” she always knows exactly how to solve her problem immediately after a game’s conclusion. zuko doesn’t understand how that works at all, but azula’s like “lol classic sokka.”

toph takes izumi on a life-changing field trip to go look at bugs in the woods, and all the headlines that week read variations on “NOTORIOUS EARTHBENDING ANARCHIST KIDNAPS FIRELORD, HOLDS HER HOSTAGE IN A FOREST.” neither of them are aware of the political scandal they’ve caused because they were too busy studying cool bugs.

as izumi approaches 50, she decides to treat herself to a birthday gift that becomes her pride and joy: a top-of-the-line future industries motorcycle. her father may choose to travel the world in style on druk, but izumi's tastes run more toward ground transportation (which is to say: she gets violently airsick, and seasick, too). of course, she can only really ride it anywhere if she's prepared to either travel with a motorcade or sneak out past her guards and keep her face hidden the whole time she's out. the former cramps her style and limits her speed, so she chooses the latter. she generally takes it short distances, just far to get some air, but on one memorable occasion when lin beifong is visiting ember island, she takes it all the way through the mountains and down to the beach just to see the look on that crabby old cop's face.

izumi names her son after her beloved late grunkle… mostly because it was the only way to satisfy sokka, who insisted that since, decades ago, he won a bet against zuko to someday name his grandchild, it was only fair that he get naming rights. zuko, at the time having assumed that he would never have grandchildren, was like “yeah okay whatever,” but sokka never forgot. as if he would ever pass up the opportunity to publicly embarrass the fire nation royal family! but he had to admit that iroh was a pretty good name. almost as good as Sokkaruleszukodrools, which unfortunately and unjustly got passed over.

izumi always loved aang, and found meditating with him to be really clarifying. it's only natural that his death breaks her heart. but it's in her nature to come up with a productive outlet for any emotion she feels, even grief, and that holds true in this case. she is walking through the library on air temple island when it hits her: there ought to be an "official" biography of avatar aang and his life, dictated by his friends. though her initial idea was to hire one of her many respected writer friends for the job, kya and tenzin insist that it'll only be worth anything if izumi writes it. so she does. a biography of the avatar, written by the firelord. friendships last more than one lifetime after all.

izumi is, of course, aware of the new avatar from the moment she's born. the notes she has on korra fill an entire cabinet of scrolls and notebooks (as any of her advisors knows, her choice of paper just depends on how fancy she's feeling). korra is nearly sixteen by the time she's ready to learn firebending, and izumi personally sends the ship that will pick her up and take her to the fire nation. since she has not met korra before and doesn't know her tastes, izumi makes sure the ship is fully stocked with plenty of soft, comfortable clothing in all colors and sizes, all meant to be reasonably modest while still suitable for the warm weather korra will run into on the journey. so izumi is understandably surprised when she meets the ship at the docks and finds korra in a jaggedly sewn scarlet crop top that she clearly tailored herself. korra blushes and explains that she's never experienced warm weather before and got a bit overzealous. they laugh about it, and izumi orders a whole closetload of more teenage-friendly clothing to be delivered to korra's quarters.

zuko dies peacefully, in his sleep, at an old and happy age, but that doesn’t mean his death doesn’t affect izumi. she immediately takes time off to crash at the south pole with katara and kya, and they spend the next few weeks just sitting by the fire, swapping stories about their respective adventures, and having a lovely (albeit extremely tearful) time. izumi then goes to visit toph and suki in the earth kingdom, who are both apparently chilling in different parts of the same vast swamp. they teach her about how everything in the swamp is connected, that separation and time and death are all illusions. finally, the last leg of her trip is spent on ember island, where she sits by the beach, staring at the moon’s silver reflection on the black sea, and once more feels at peace.

#4k words whew!!!! #asks #c #well mostly me but chell added lots too! thank u chell!! #izumi #zuko #kya ii #katara #sokka #toph #mai #izumixkya #izumi&zuko #izumi&katara #izumi&sokka #izumi&toph #izumi&mai #azula&izumi #iroh&izumi #korra #aang&izumi #ok ok i think thats enough tagging lol #god im sorry this took me 8 months.... #i hope this satisfies the wait! #debnaam #postwargaang

[skelanonymous]

First - Killermare

Words - 3.1k

I decided I needed more happy Killermare, even though I’ve literally written a ton of it. I should write literally anybody else next…>_>

-

Killer entered into the kitchen with a tense back, casually perusing the fridge with a wince. He’d taken a hard hit on the side during the last fight with the Stars. Probably cracked something, but nothing was falling off so he didn’t bother too much with it. His determination would hold him together.

He grabbed the carton of milk and took a swig straight from the container.

“Other people use that you know.” 

“Too bad for them.” Killer turned around to grin at Nightmare. He’d recently gotten into his Boss’s VERY good graces and no broken bones were going to keep him out of it. “Well if it isn’t small, dark, and Lovecraftian.” That got a chuckle, a rare thing to hear from Nightmare. It made his target soul ache something awful, hearing that cute sound and not being able to do anything with it, not nearly close enough to Nightmare to capitalize on the opportunity. 

“As good with words as with a knife, hmmm?” Nightmare stood in his space, touching along his arm unconsciously. Killer tried to keep his mouth in check.

“I’m also pretty good with my hands.” God damn idiot brain, hitting on his fucking god level boss. There’s fucking with people and there’s shooting out of your league. He just smiled through it. “Whatcha need Boss?”

“I’m moving a wing of the library and needed an extra pair of hands.” 

“And you knew how talented mine were, so you came right to me?” Killer slid the milk back into the refrigerator. He leaned back on his left side to keep from agitating the right, elbows on the counter, a picture of relaxation. 

“Something like that.” Nightmare laughed again. Killer held in the pleased sigh, standing up, crossing his arms behind his head very delicately.

“I’m all yours Boss. Lead the way.”

They wandered down the hall directly towards the library, Killer keeping step just behind Nightmare, letting him stare all he wanted without being caught. Those strong thick tentacles swayed around his back, framing his ass for Killer to appreciate along the lengthy hallways. He rarely went over this way unless Night summoned him here.

Nightmare already cleared small sections away, stacks of meticulously organized books littering the floor. He gestured to a pile.

“Start here and work clockwise. I’ve laid it out to make it easy enough for you to do without me babysitting your progress.” 

So began replacing them on the shelves. Killer hid the winces of pain from stooping and bending fairly well, silently moving until he hit a tiny snag. He reached up to place one on a tall shelf when he flinched into the wall.

His body hit the shelves and dislodged an avalanche onto his head. He almost moved away before one smashed into his cracked ribs.

"Son of a fucking bitch!

"Killer!" Nightmare raced over to unbury him. The tentacles made quick work of them, stacking haphazardly off of Killer’s winded form. His hands were on Killer’s forehead in an instant, checking for cracks, diligently looking over him after hearing the cry of pain. Killer groaned angrily when he was cleared off.

“Fucking Blue and his fucking blue attacks. Ugh.” Killer couldn’t sit up, pain still blossoming fresh in his chest. Night paused in looking him over.

“Were you wounded on the last mission?” His single eye penetrated his two, pinning him under it until he relented, grimacing with a gesture to his ribs he’d been carefully avoiding.

“Yeah. Stars got a good hit in on me. Was fine until the book hit it though.”

“Clearly not, considering you lost your usually impeccable balance!” Nightmare’s tentacles wrapped Killer up to get him standing without making him bend the wounded area. “Come with me. Healing magic is easiest when accompanied by intent, wrapping it will make it easier.” He grumbled and took off towards his room, Killer hobbling after to keep up. 

Walking into Night’s room changed the mood. He suddenly felt out of place, surrounded by luxurious purples tones and dark wooden furniture. Night had gestured to the bed before wandering into his private bathroom.

His bed was comfortable. Killer’s nerves ruined any enjoyment of getting into Nightmare’s room, jittery from the moment he was directed to sit on the plush comforters. Nightmare returned with a roll of bandages and an unimpressed look.

“I thought you were smart enough to know how to care for yourself.” He moved in front of him. “Take off your jacket and t-shirt.”

Thankfully Night was too focused on unraveling the bandages and gathering antiseptic to see Killer’s face go red, suddenly very aware that he was in his boss’s room, said boss’s hands about to be on him after a request to undress. He pulled them off smooth and casual, but his grin practically cracked at the edges. 

“What the hell?”

Night’s hands hovered over the cracked ribs, flinching back at the small break that Killer had dislodged from its setting.

“Yeah, it’s not great.”

“Killer!” Night growled at him. “Why didn’t you seek treatment before THIS?!” He gestured to the crumbled ends of the break from grinding against each other. “This is entirely fucking curable! It’s ridiculous you didn’t, at the very least, wrap this!” The growl travelled up his body, baring his teeth at him, tentacles cracking like whips at his back. Killer didn’t move, but his voice took on a nervous edge.

“I’m a dead man walking boss. I’ll just keep going forward until I can’t anymore.” Healing magic was taxing. All of them were terrible at it besides Nightmare, who never offered, only taking over when he was clearly needed. They never want to bother him to ask for it.

“I could’ve fixed this sooner.” Nightmare pinched the bone into place with a click. Killer gasped in pain. He wrapped it tightly, uncaring about Killer’s harsh pants while doing so.

“We only take it when you offer. None of us wanna annoy you.” Fuck, he was so falling out of Night’s good graces for this. After he worked so hard, some dumb break was gunna take him back to zero. He fisted the plush comforter. “Your time is important.”

“To whom, when you dust from accumulating injuries that I can’t see?” 

“The multiverse I guess.”

“The multiverse doesn’t give a shit about me or my time. This is all I have.” Nightmare pinched his nasal crest after finishing. “You serve me, but I cannot do this alone. Your lives are valuable to me. I thought you, especially, would know this Killer."

"Why do ya say that?"

"Because of how important you are to me." Nightmare's hands grew warm with gathering magic, mending now that everything would heal correctly. "All of you are valuable, like the supporting beams holding the castle aloft, but you are more integral. You are the center pillar. As my right hand, as long as you stand, I have faith in my ability to recover. I believed you to be my most valuable asset, but if you’re going to just let yourself turn to dust, then I’ll-”

“No!” Killer’s soul snapped into a heart shape, eyelights flickering in time to meet Night’s inquisitive gaze. “I’m not dusting on you just like that.” He grabbed Night’s warm hands away, taking them up in front of his startled cyan face.

“K-Killer?” He brought them up and kissed the phalanges as one would do to their king.

“If you’ll continue as long as I am by your side, then I’ll remain with you until I die.” Killer’s sockets went half-lidded, struck by the emotion his inverted soul let in, his silly crush amplified ten-fold by Nightmare’s faith in him. He’d never seen his boss look so confused, eye wide and frantically searching Killer’s. “What’s wrong boss?” 

“You-I’m...what’s-why all-”Killer’s hands had long since gained a mind of their own. He slid wordlessy off the bed into Night’s space, silencing him with a casual touch on the cheek, fondly caressing the bright greenish glow. 

“Shouldn’t have told me I meant so much to ya cuz I’m gunna take that to heart.” Then he swooped down to kiss him.

Killer pressed their teeth together firmly, tilting their heads to line up for deepening the kiss. He relaxed into it, holding Nightmare close while getting a taste, slowly touching and teasing Night's tongue with playful flicks. He could feel the very hesitant kiss back before they parted for air.

"Feeling shy Nightmare? Don't worry. I'm bold enough for the both of us." 

Killer laughed into the next one, leaning into it to force Night's response, groaning at the feel of the shy tongue in his own mouth. He could feel his small partner shaking in his arms when they broke apart.

"Killer…" It must've been awhile since Nightmare got with anyone to sound so needy. 

"I'm here. Wanna have some fun Nightmare?" He whispered it into Night's ear, smiling at the trembling he could still feel against his ribs, lost in the heady feeling. Night devolved to breathy pants, which Killer dove into before he felt tentacles lay solidly against his chest to push him back.

"Killer, wait, I can't-I'm not prepared for this." Night's flushed face told a different story, but he didn't fancy being killed.

"I've got lots of patience. I'll just make you feel good until you are." Killer's mouth slid down to Night’s neck, sucking on the bone to the high pitched whines, sending all his thoughts south, ecto eager to form at the slightest provocation. His haze broke under the Night's firm push out of his space. 

"Killer, stop." 

His back connected with the bed, wincing from his still (though much less so) wounded bones. The rejection stung worse.

"Sorry boss." That HURT, knowing he'd fucked up pretty royally. God, he'd forced himself on Nightmare right after he'd been given a shred of attention. He was such a fucking idiot. "I'll keep my hands to myself." His eyelights poofed decisively. He almost couldn't bear to look at him, but he needed to see Nightmare's face at least once.

Night hadn't stopped shaking. His tentacles attempted to hide him from view, face fully blushing, head still tilted away from the fresh mark Killer had left, noises leaking unfiltered from his trembling body. 

"S-s-sorry. I-I c-can't handle it-t. Too much." Killer grabbed his shirt and hoodie from where it lay beside him.

"I'll leave you be. Maybe annoy Horror or something, I don't know." Anything to not be here. Playing it off would make it easier to take, even if it meant no second chances with Night. He slid his clothes back on. "Come find me when you got the next mission lined up."

A tentacle wrapped around his ankle before he took the first step.

"Why are you leaving?" His voice was airy, light, breathless.

"I'm a dick, but not that much of one. I went too far, I'll give ya some space for a day." He shrugged, a drop of hate splashing on the floor. He'd describe his emotions as 'in shambles.'

"I don't want space. I just need a minute."

"I don't know Boss. Shouldn't rush that kind of thing." He could stomach taking advantage of people outside of this castle, but betraying the ones inside it, those who guarded his back and knew where he slept (and cared about but he'd never tell them that), it turned his mood sour. It ate at the pit of his stomach and it’d eat through him entirely if he didn’t get the fuck outta dodge.

"What thing?"

"Being assaulted, harassed, whatever you wanna call it. And being the person who forced themselves upon ya, don't think I should be here." He tugged at his ankle again, but Night hadn't relented.

"Killer, I didn't stop you because I didn't want it." He avoided Killer's eye roll.

"Uh-huh." Killer really didn't want to resort to cutting off the tentacle. It wouldn't hurt him, but it'd suck and prove he was an asshole, so he pulled harder. "Say I believed you. Then why?"

"Killer, I…" Nightmare looked like he wanted the carpet to swallow him. "I've never kissed anyone."

"...What?" He stopped struggling against his restraint. "There's no way. You're telling me, five hundred years of existing, and you hadn’t had your first kiss?"

"Yes." And Killer commited a cardinal sin without thinking.

"But Dream definit-" Is fucking Ink or Blue or Cross or all of them, he wanted to say, but Night was quicker.

"I am aware." Nightmare's glare was potent, but Killer's confusion was denser. "But he is lovable, unlike me."

"You're lovable." It slipped out in-between all the mental gymnastics. He wasn't sure he wasn't being fucked with still. "So you haven't…" How to phrase this delicately, he wondered. "...slept with anyone?"

"Killer, I haven't kissed anyone. Why the fuck would I have slept with someone?"

"You gotta know how unbelievable this is." Talking wouldn't reassure him, so Killer leaned down into Night's space again, stopping just shy of his teeth. "You're telling me that someone as fuckable as you's been ignored all this time?" Nightmare's single eye widened with the flush. Killer smoothed out his tone, dropping it low to hold him at the edge of his words. "Nice juicy peach you are, no one's tried to pluck you up? I can barely look without salivatin'." He lapped at his teeth, careful to keep his hands in safe places. He wanted to see how inexperienced Night really was without ruining his chances forever.

Nightmare's tentacles laid limp behind him, all the tremors coming from his real form, whose hands had raised to snatch at the shoulders of his hoodie, gripping tightly when he caved under the languid licks at his mouth by letting Killer in.

Patience led this one, Killer carefully taking over every inch of Night's mouth. The slower pace served to work up his partner faster. Nightmare's calmness abated, tentacles waking up to come and clutch at Killer's form, Night crawling onto him, transforming the kiss into a frenzy of desire that Killer surrendered to, as long as Night was leading the way. The tentacles touched plenty of hot spots, but he kept his own hands on innocent ground. Night's confidence could crumble under too much of a good thing.

"Take a breath, Nightlight." Night shivered against him after breaking apart, so much sensation his body was unaccustomed to. "I gotcha." Killer rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"I can see how that could escalate." Nightmare finally got out. It made him laugh. 

"Yeah. It's pretty easy to get carried away." He kissed the top of his skull before laughing again. "You give handsy a whole new meaning though."

"Sorry." The sweet little monster in his arms barely resembled his boss, hiding his face by burrowing into Killer's chest. 

"Don't be. It's pretty hot." His lewd grin made Night blush again.

"I would've thought my corruption would be the ugliest and most disgusting part of me." He punctuated it with said appendages undulating behind him.

"Boss, I just kissed the fuck outta you and I've never known you without it. Trust me, not a deterrent." Killer stroked down one to make Night's spine curl. "If you learn how to use ‘em right, they're pretty useful in the bedroom."

"Don't call me Boss when we're like this." Night whispered softly. His face caught between a glare and something soft, he was starting to come back to his senses.

"That might be too much power Nightlight." He grinned at the tiny glare. "How was your first kiss then?"

"Nice." Nightmare sighed as he sat up, unfurling all the aching limbs. The usual persona rebuilt itself. But now, Killer knew how easy the composure was to break. "I'd like to repeat it sometime."

"I'm all yours." He'd never get sick of that face if Night was willing to let him see it. They rose together from the floor, Night reestablishing the space between them.

"I'll have to talk to the others about not bringing injuries to me. Time spent on them is not time wasted." He straightened his sweater, presentable before opening the door. Killer choked the urge down to mess it up again. “The idea that you would’ve rather lost a rib than speak to me is absurd.”

"Yeah." They better not take his catch. Fuck them.

"I'm not going to kiss them Killer. The sour look is atrocious on you." Night's brow raised. Caught red handed. Killer laughed.

"Can you blame me? I know the kind of filthy degenerates who live here; I'm one of them. I don't want 'em to take a bite outta you." Subconsciously, he shook his sleeves to feel the weight of his multiple blades.

"You act as though there are many vying for my affection. People used to throw rocks at me for walking by their homes, and now they try to kill me. I'm not surrounded by suitors." He said this while walking down the hall towards the still upturned library. His strides were confident, power inherent is his manner, carried with a royal grace that Killer could only ape with minimal success. The only reason he wasn't swamped with competition was everyone had been too chickenshit to make a move. 

"Ya also thought I wasn't interested and nothing has ever been less fucking true." He pushed his luck a little further, stepping in front of Nightmare to kiss him quickly. The chaste thing was almost too much considering the shakes. "I'll just keep doing it if ya don't say anything."

“We need to reassemble the library.” He huffed through, walking by with weak knees, Killer trailing just behind. “This wasn’t an invitation to touch me at all times.”

“Only some of the time then?” 

“Shut up.” He humored the request once inside Night’s treasured library. 

Back to quietly organizing, clockwise, his talented hands flipped them onto shelves with ease now that he wasn’t hindered by aches. It was quick and effortless like it should have been the first time. He’d begun humming by the time he placed the last one, not expecting the hand on his shoulder but welcoming it as he had earlier the same day. Night silently pressed something into his palm.

“I trust I don’t need to explain.” Killer’s fingers closed over the silver key, smiling and spinning it on his pointer while leaving the now neat library. Guess his league was a lot wider than he thought. It wasn’t an invitation to his bed, but the invitation to his heart was just as good.

“Gotcha loud and clear boss. See ya soon.” 

-

They CUTE.

#story time #killermare #nightkiller #first kiss uwu #I got lots of feels

[secondhand-trash]

Friday I’m In Love

commissioned by @xaki

A/N: no, the fic has nothing to do with the song it just so happens that it fits in the most literal sense lmao much thanks to xaki who gave me my first commission and my friend for helping me out when my brain was going all sorts of illogical directions uwu

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

Description: You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, where you tried your best to not let the fact that he was your high school crush distract you too much.

Warning: unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation

Word count: 5052

-

You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, during the single Wednesday morning lecture you shared.

You had allowed yourself the luxury of stealing a few glances his way during that one occasion, but never do more than just looking from afar.

Actually, it was ironic that you had gotten to the point of limiting yourself from even looking at him when there was a time you would see him nearly every day.

Getting into the same high school was a pure coincidence, but you had also noticed early on that no matter where he was, your gaze was following his figure before you even realised it. Who could blame you, really. Who wouldn’t want to spare even just a few more seconds looking at the boy who was taller than the rest of his peers even in his first year, only growing more and more breathtaking as he ditched the boyishness and slowly gained the edge on his face and the hint of maturity in his eyes.

You were far from being the only one that harboured a bit of a schoolgirl crush on the eventual volleyball club captain. In the few years where you shared the same class, you had witnessed him being called out of the classroom by blushing pupils more times than you could count. It always brought a bitter taste to your mouth but what could you do about it? At least they had the guts to confess. 

You liked to believe that it was not a cowardly move for you to hide your affections all throughout your high school years. It was just that as early as you had noticed your budding feelings, you also realised that you two belong with two seperate groups of people with very different interests, and the chances that he would opt for you was slimmer than slim. So you never did much to try and win him over, maintaining a friendly distance where you only interact in class and nothing outside of it. 

At least it could be a nice memory to look back on when you were way past the age to be conflicted over things like this.

You were just as shocked as any other person when you learned that he did not go the pro-athlete route everyone thought he would go, nearly as shocked when you walked into your first lecture of the semester to see him sitting right at the very front.

He seemed to have noticed you too, giving you a slight nod after his eyes widened. You returned the polite gesture, before heading straight to the very back of the lecture hall without a hint of hesitation.

You could deal with one more semester of friendly distance. Couldn’t be that hard, right?

-

It was Wednesday morning again, and you sinked into the seat at the very back of the lecture hall you tactfully occupied with a yawn.

It was from pure bad luck that you managed to register the one 8:30 lecture available in the course. Everywhere around you, people were either half asleep or laid down on the table at the very least. From the corner of your eye, you even spotted someone catching up on the latest episodes of the new tv series that just aired with subtitles on.

You sighed, leaning your jaw on your palm. You wanted to say that this was a bit too much even for a lecture but who were you to judge when your soul was starting to escape your body to somewhere more interesting than the lecture hall anyway.

The amount of people who were actually paying attention to the lecture could probably be counted with one hand, let along the ones that seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. You thought to yourself, your glances floating to the boy who blocked even more of your view with his roaster head on top of his existing height.

He was probably the only one who still had the strength to chuckle when the lecturer tried to liven up the dying atmosphere with unfunny gags.

“...for the upcoming event, students who volunteered as committee members would receive bonus marks based on their performance,” you perked up at the distant call of ‘bonus score’ from far away, “the form will be placed by the door, Please fill in your name before you leave if you are interested.”

Your mind was occupied by numbers and calculations of your gpa for the rest of your class, even as you lined up mindlessly behind your other classmates after the lecture was dismissed. Another thing about morning lessons was that the amount of effort you were willing to put in was also diminished by the limits on your mind and soul, meaning that any chance at a higher grade was worth trying. You had decided that free labour in exchange for that good grade was a decent enough bargain.

“Hey.”

You snapped out of your trance when it was your turn at the form only to feel your heart skipping a beat when you looked up to see the familiar handsome face you stared at as your recharge every morning.

You blinked, trying hard to maintain a calm front even though your mind went haywired at the rare direct interaction you had with Kuroo.

“Do you need the pen?” he asked, holding out the thin ball pen he was gripping in his hand to you.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, putting on a polite smile as you took it from him, “oh yes. Um, thank you.”

It was only a while later when you put down your name right below his that it finally hit you that you two had signed up for the same event. It took even longer for you to realise that the strange tingle you felt at the back of your hand was from his fingertips brushing past yours as he let go of the pen, but by then he was gone and it would be a few days later when you saw him again.

-

You now see Kuroo Tetsurou two times every week. Once during the dreadful morning lecture on Wednesday and on Friday evening where you were stuck in the committee meeting together.

But unlike the stolen glances on Wednesday, you were forced to acknowledge Kuroo as more than just a distant being you were merely acquaintances with in those few hours.

It was very inconvenient for you, considering how each time you felt smaller and smaller under his concentrated gaze as he listened to your input on whatever topic of discussion it was. In fact, you felt rather resentful that you couldn’t quite stand as firm as you did on your stance that you wanted to keep what was clear to be a admiration from being known under your own free will instead of a lack of self-assurance.

You had no choice but to be reminded that he was smart and brilliant on top of just being good-looking. He always knew what to say when the rest of the room was stuck, moving the agenda forward with each valuable input. He was easy to work with, reliable and always efficient.You found that you genuinely liked working with him, crush or not. He listened intently to what other people had to say and never said anything less than constructive.

Worst of all, you were starting to have the illusion that he had started paying more attention to you too. When you looked around the room as you were about to speak up each time, you would always lock your eyes with him at some point, even before you started talking like he already anticipated that you would have something to say.

Maybe it was a mistake, you thought to yourself as you stared outside the pitch black windows of the bus that was rocking steadily, feeling your mind drifting away after using up all your energy in the meeting, maybe those few bonus marks were not worth all this inner conflict.

“Hi, um,” you looked to the side, your mind going blank like you just got caught doing something guilty when you saw the exact person you were thinking about standing by. You cursed the uncontrollable heat that raised on your face, “can I sit here?”

It wasn’t like you could say no. “Sure,” you said as you picked up your bag to clear out the seat for him, flashing a cordial smile of someone who did not have a reason to be nervous when you could already feel the beating in your chest speeding up, “of course.”

“Thanks,” he said with a relieved sigh, throwing himself on the empty chair with a soft thump. You tried to pretend that you did not secretly really care about how close he was to you now, looking back out of the window again. Kuroo looked at you, pondering if he should say something first.

“So…”

“Hm?” you turned around to face him at the dragged out note of his voice.

“Have you gone back to Nekoma after graduation?”

You sighed and gave a light shake of your head, "No. Just surviving college is hard enough, who has time to think about going back?”

You tried to dismiss the knot in your stomach when he replied with a light chuckle and the corner of your lips curling up against your will when he leaned back. “Makes sense," he said, running his hand through his unruly hair before swiftly carrying on to ask you about what you were up to now.

It would have been easier if it was awkward or uncomfortable but sadly, Kuroo was also very easy to talk to and by the time you regained your senses, you were already at the door of your apartment with him walking you there the whole way after getting off the bus at the same stop.

Next Friday, he came up to you with a grinning face when you packed up your stuff after the meeting. “We go the same direction, right?” he had said, walking next to you casually as you headed out the meeting room. He started the conversation before you could say anything, and like last time, he walked you back to your apartment, claiming that he lived nearby anyways.

You saw him twice every week. Once during the morning lecture that was starting to feel less painful to endure and the Friday committee meeting, where he naturally walked you home without fail each week. At some point, he started saving you the seat next to him before each meeting and there was less and less of a reason for you to not take it when he was already leaving with you anyways. All of the above had reminded you once again why you were so hellbent on staying away from him in the first place.

He was far too easy to like, even more so now that you were somewhat friends by the end of the series of meetings.

-

The voice of your instructor was distant as you stared at the clock, the sound of Kuroo’s pencil tapping against the table keeping you in touch with what was going on. It was the last meeting you had to attend and quite frankly there was nothing interesting going on at this point. You glanced to the side, before pulling out your phone that has been buzzing in your pocket since the meeting started.

You tried to conceal the irritation rising in your chest as you looked at the glowing screen underneath the table. Your old friends had been bombing you with questions ever since they learnt that after years of looking on, you somehow had a leaping development with your crush on accident after graduation. It was a mistake on your part, given how the topic of their heated discussion was sitting right next to you. 

“(y/l/n)?”

The sudden mention of your name startled you, and you threw your phone down almost a bit too hard. “Yes?”

“Can you help hand these out?”

You let out a relieved sigh that you were not being called out for not paying attention as you stood up, pushing the conversation that was no doubt still ongoing in your group chat to the back of your head. “Of course.”

Kuroo watched as you got out, taking the stack of minutes from the instructor. After today, he would go back to only seeing you when you walked into the morning lecture hall. He felt the nerves building in his stomach, wondering if he should bear his teeth and threw his shot in changing that.

‘So you’re just going to do nothing?’

The screen of your phone that was laying on the table lit up as the speech bubble appeared. His curiosity got the better of him when the next message popped in before he could look away.

‘You have liked Kuroo for years and you’re just going to let this chance slip?’

He froze in place when he read his own name. You liked him? His eyes flicked to you, his heart in his throat at the realisation that he had just learnt something he was not supposed to know. 

But despite the slight guilt of overstepping his boundaries, it took all the fiber in his body to stop himself from grinning ear to ear when you returned to your seat next to him.

“What?” you asked with an amused quirk of your eyebrows at how stiffly he was sitting.

“Nothing,” Kuroo replied, feeling the muscle around his mouth going sore as he bit the inside of his cheeks, “nothing.”

The ride home felt so much longer with him next to you, knowing that this was to be the last. He did not say anything even as you got off, only walking in silence like he was deep in thought. You wondered what it was that made him so quiet today, he was usually the more chatty one out of you two.

Kuroo felt the tension building up in his head as you got closer and closer to your door. 

“Can I tell you something?”

You snapped around, your hand on the handle of your doorknob when he suddenly spoke up for the first time since you left the meeting that day. “Yeah?”

“My place is at the opposite side of the neighbourhood.”

“What?” your voice came out as a whisper. Your breath hitch at the back of your throat when he took one step closer to you before leaning down. His face was right in front of yours, his defined features dangerously close to you.

“I said,” you could feel his breath fanning on your face as he spoke and the pounding in your ear was thundering as you held your breath, “I’m only here because I want to be around you.”

Kuroo watched intently as your eyes widened, your jaw clenching as you gulped. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, almost like he was waiting for you to show him any hint of rejection before he made the irreversible move. 

When your hand slowly crept onto his shoulder and stayed there, he latched onto you. You were taken back by his force, his tongue evading your mouth at your moment of lowered alert. His kiss was demanding, stealing away the oxygen in your lungs bit by bit as he held you close. 

You were panting when he pulled away after his initial outburst, your pupils dilated as your lips swollen up. You paused, before gathering the courage that had surged in your chest.

“Do you want to come in?”

Kuroo did not waste another second when the door clicked, his hand getting rougher now that you were within the privacy of your home. Your arms hung around his neck as you desperately held yourself up, your toes barely touching the floor as he demandingly kissed down the side of your neck. He lost patience at your struggling, lifting you up with his arm under your hips before pulling you down onto him with a stumbling step to the cramped couch.

“Help me strip.” He whispered in your ear, adjusting your position on his lap as he brought your hand to the opened collar of his shirt. You gulped when he gave an encouraging knead on your upper thigh, far too consumed by the want of seeing more of him to feel bashful by his bold request.

His gaze burned on your skin as he stared at you, not moving away even for a second while you tear apart the row of buttons to reveal more and more of his toned body. You felt like your fingers were not listening to your commands, a clumsy stiffness in your joints as he unhooked each button. The subconscious way you darted your tongue out to wet your lips at the rise and fall of his chest did not go unnoticed under his attentive stare, his much larger hands guiding you to palm his tend over the firm material of his jeans as your finger grazed past the cold metal of the zipper.

Kuroo’s stomach tensed up when you pulled down the fly, pushing your hips against his legs as you pushed away the heavy jeans. He held you down as he sat up, drinking in your soft moan with an open mouthed kiss. Your hand ran down from his shoulder to the firm pecs adoring his abdomen, each mound rippling under the tip of your fingers. His circled one arm around your waist while the other fumbled to pull his aching cock out of its refines. You felt the vibration of his chest as he groaned into your mouth when you allowed your hand to wander down his body, cupping his balls as he fisted his own length.

You let out a shaky sigh when he slid his palm down the elastic band of your panties, groping the soft flesh of your ass as he peeled off the thin piece of cotton with a push down the small of your back to have you arching for him.  He chuckled when he felt the wetness that was seeping through the fabric, earning a glare from you that looked more like a kitten pretending to be defensive out of embarrassment than truly threatening to him with your heated face and slightly swollen lips from his earlier nibbling when you pulled away. A thin strand of silver connected your lips, looking all the more erotic now that you were both half bare and exposed to each other’s hungry eyes.

Your finger dug into the muscle of his arms when he lifted you up from his lap with ease, much thanks to the firm grasp of your thighs in his warm palms. Your lips fell agape but no sound came out when you felt the hardness prodding at your entrance. He looked shamelessly at where your bodies met, not bothering to hide the grin on his face when he felt the pain of your nails against his arm as he brushed his tip along your slit. You whined at the friction that was barely there, not able to sink down with him holding you back but your legs were starting to go weak with each push of his length against your clit. He took his time, spreading the leaking pre-cum across your folds and watching the mixture of your arousal slowly coated his cock.

“Kuroo…” you called out for him, hoping that it would be enough for him to give you what you wanted.

“Aw... What’s with this formality?” his arm flexed under your touch as he tilted his head to the side, lowering you down just a little, “What should you call me when I’m about to fuck your brains out, hm?”

You bite onto the inside of your cheeks when you felt him barely dipping in, his tip just positioned at your pussy.

“Tetsurou-” 

his own name felt foreign as it rolled off the tip of your tongue and he let out an approving hum. “Good girl,” he purred, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. 

His grip on your legs tightened as he leaned closer to you, pushing his cock just a little deeper. Your brows locked together as he stretched out your entrance, clawing at his arm for more. You thought he was finally going to show some mercy on you, but the beating in your heart skipped a beat when you felt his hot breath fanning across your lips instead.

“You’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

Your eyes snapped open, his handsome face right in front of yours. “Wha- mph!”

You yelped at the sudden drop of your hips onto his lap, your nails scratching down his arm as he hilted inside of you with one motion. Your head threw back at the waves of shocking pleasure that sparked down your spine, your juicings running down the base of your thighs as your walls tried to accustomed to his thickness and length.

“What is it? Did you just say yes?” his laugh was wolfish as he took in your expression, a mixture of infuriated and primal desire.

“You-” he did not give you the time to bite back, thrusting up with a lift of your hips and turning whatever you wanted to say into nothing but incoherent moans.

Your body did not feel like it was under your control as he guided you to grind on his cock, the slaps of your soft flesh against his thighs taking over your senses. Your toes curled at how deep he could reach inside you each time he pulled you up and bottomed out of you. His hands were fondling your ass roughly as he bounced you on his cock, reducing you to nothing but a panting mess laying weakly on his chest.

“How does it feel to have the man of your dreams stretching out your tight cunt, hm?” he emphasised each word with a thrust, grinning ear to ear when you made a frugal attempt at slapping his arm you were holding onto. You buried your face into his chest, your muffled moans coming out as hot breath on his skin. He looked down from above you, watching as your ass jiggled under each thrust and your spine arching from the pleasure. 

A loud smack echoed in the room and he groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him at the slap of his palm against your ass cheek. He gave the flesh a firm knead, rubbing at the area that had heated up from the spank before pulling his hand away to give the other side the same treatment. You felt the numbness on your skin as your skin burned, the pain making every hair on your back stood up. 

“You like it when I get rough with you? You are squeezing down on my cock so hard,” his voice came as gravel from his chest. Your mind was in a frenzy, not even thinking straight as you nodded feverishly. “You’re such a slut for me, it’s really inflating my ego,” his filthy words made your stomach tighten as he continued, “bet this is what you have been thinking about whenever you check me out.”

You felt your face burning up. He knew all along?

Your surprise came out in the form of a squeal when he stood up, still holding you up. Your panting got more rapid as your only leverage from falling was the frantic clawing at his arm, having nothing but his strength to trust as he bounced you on his cock while marching down the hallway.

He hissed at the sharp pain on his back when your hands scratched down, kicking the door open with a hasty shove at the door with his heel before throwing you down the mattress. He did not waste another second as he perched on top of you, hooking your legs around his waist before rolling his hips to completely take over the pace of his cock pistoning at the spongy spot that made your mind foggy with nothing but his name and the overwhelming feeling of being towered over in your head.

The squelching got louder and louder as he ruthlessly snapped against you. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened up as he leaned down, sucking on the sweet spot at the side of your neck. His hand roamed all over your body, kneading your tits that bounced under his force. 

He could not get over the fact that you were actually here, folded beneath him right now, and that it was his name you were moaning out. 

“I’m-” your legs clasped around him as every muscle on your limbs tensed up, “I’m close-”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want,” he growled in your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as your walls spasmed around his cock, “what does my girl want?”

You had imagined what it would be like if Kuroo Tetsurou ever set his eyes on you, if he had wanted you the same way you had absentmindedly started wanting him despite your best efforts to convince yourself that you knew that would not happen. But nothing could stop the heat that exploded in your chest and spread all through your body at how natural it came out of his mouth.

His girl. You were his girl now.

You let out a choked mewl when he switched from erratic plowing to slowly dragging his cock along your walls. The sudden drop from your near high seeped into your senses, tingling down from your core all the way to the tip of your toes. 

“Tetsu-” your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out all the way only to halt in you with a sudden thrust, “want you to make me cum- ah!”

The shocks that sparked through your body when he set his sight on making you fall apart underneath him with his vigorous thrusts had your toe pointing stiffly and curling under the pleasure. The fist in the pit of your stomach curled and unfolded as he gripped your chin roughly, turning your head to look right into his eyes.

“Fuck, you wanna cum?” he hissed, feeling the shivers on his own back as he got closer and closer to his own high, “Then look at me, look at me as you cum on my cock-”

You felt your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. His eyes were all you could focus on as you succumbed to the weakening of your limbs, the pounding in your ear gradually returned to a regular pace with Kuroo’s languish strokes allowing you to ride out your high. 

You were sure you could never forget how the defined arch of his brows knitted together as he pulled out of you, his head throwing back just a little with his lips slightly parted. A sinful moan leaking out as spurts of white painted across your lower stomach. 

Your vision was hazed over with a veil of fog as you blinked, collecting your breaths before focusing on the roof of your room that suddenly felt so unfamiliar. The claminess on your skin and the smell of sweat slowly took over. You felt the weight on your chest, breathing out a heavy exhale.

You really did just have sex with your crush, huh?

As if noticing your train of thought, Kuroo leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your jaw, his grin reaching his eyes as he stared at you. Much unlike his earlier dominance, the lazy curl of each syllable on his lips sounded more so like he was trying to play cute.

"Wait here,” he said, adding another peck on your lips, “I’ll grab you a towel.”

“The bathroom is the one right outside…” you muttered, feeling the dent on the mattress sprung back as he climbed off of you.

Your tensed muscles slowly relaxed as he moved you to lean against his broad chest, his hand gently caressing your skin as he dabbed the wet towel on you. His lips ghosted along your ear as he cleaned up the marks and trails left from your earlier passions, trying hard to conceal his satisfaction when you whined as he brushed past the bruises on your thighs.

“You should start getting used to it from now on, plenty more chances for us to- ouch, ouch.. ok, I’m sorry…”

The corner of your lips lifted up, burying your face into his chest as you tried to get comfortable, “I was right, you are way more attractive without opening your mouth.”

“Awe, don’t say that,” he pouted but the wolfish grin on his face told you he was not apologetic at all.

Kuroo watched as you slowly leaned onto him more and more, until your eyelids closed up with a flutter. If you had stayed awake for just a little longer, you would know that he could not be any more careful when he tucked you under the blanket before slipping in next to you. On this rare occasion where he would not get caught, he allowed himself to stare at your serene expression as he dozed off to sleep with a content smile on his face.

You did not need to know that his grade for the one course you shared was high enough already and he signed up for the committee purely because you were signing up too. He certainly would not let you know that he had always noticed your lingering gaze on him or that he secretly enjoyed it, even back when he saw you more than twice a week. That and the fact that he was overjoyed when he saw you appearing from the door of the lecture hall that Wednesday morning, followed by the ever growing frustration that he couldn’t find an excuse to talk to you when you were literally in the same class.

Whatever. Kuroo thought to himself as he gently threw his arm over your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. At least he didn’t have to go all the way from your apartment complex back to his place every Friday anymore.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo imagine #kuroo imagines

[quirky-hero-imagines]

Office work is dirty work

Pairing: Enji Todoroki (Endeavor) x F!reader

Genre: Smut/lemon, Romance

Warnings: Sexual content, office sex, clothed sex, size difference, non professional work dynamics, cursing

Endeavor’s agency is top-notch, up there with the best just like his hero status and that’s exactly what you were looking for.

You had graduated at the top of your class from the department of management at UA and many agencies scouted you. However, the one you wanted was one that you would have to approach yourself.

-

Endeavor didn’t have a doubt about hiring you after looking over your resume and your job interview. You were a bright, confident, and almost overqualified woman after all.

Enji had a great business instinct and even though he was a stubborn man he listened to your suggestions, making the job easy flowing and enjoyable for you.

-

He was a great boss but you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the tension between the two of you. It took some time to get used to his hardened personality but his appearance had enticed you from the moment you had met him. Both Enji’s hero costume and his casual business apparel were both tight around his massive arms, muscles straining against the material.

You did your best to keep things professional, only sneaking glances when you were sure he wasn’t looking. At least you did a better job of hiding it than he did, his eyes boldly trailing down your body daily.

Enji had been in your head as you touched yourself at night more times than you cared to count, the desire for him to touch you building up for months. As you laid awake yet another night, hand between your slick thighs, you decided that it was time to fan his flames just a little more.

-

Papers rustle in Enji’s quiet office as he studies them with a frown on his face. The disappointment in his recruits washes over him as documents of bad press and damage settlements catch his eye. He sighs, not having anyone but himself to blame for his selection.

A soft knock at Enji’s door shifts his attention away from the paperwork. “May I come in, Mr. Todoroki?” He hears your sweet voice call out and he straightens his blouse out before calling out that you may.

He shifts in his massive office chair as you enter, abruptly being reminded of your outfit of the day. In the morning he thought that maybe his fantasies had spilled over to reality when his eyes had caught your form.

You weren’t wearing anything scandalous, looking as business-oriented as ever, but the slight change that was present made Enji’s cock strain in his pants. You had traded your standard white blouse and black pencil skirt that went to cover till over your knees out for something slightly more revealing. A black silk blouse hugging your bosom, teasing a bit of cleavage, and a dark red pencil skirt that cuts off a bit above your knees.

Enji felt ashamed over his lewd thoughts. It was a mundane outfit that you probably had thought nothing off when you put it on and as your boss, he should see it that way too. But it was you in the outfit, a woman who he had wanted badly for a tortuously long time now.

His elbows rest on his desk, his fingers interwoven in front of his chin as he watches you, hips going side to side as you strut towards his desk.

Enji’s eyes trace over every curve that your clothing allows him to see, eager for more.

A smile shows on your face as you approach your boss, heart fluttering from seeing him again. You knew he had taken notice of your outfit since the morning, but pride fills you again nonetheless when you notice his eyes are practically glued to you. Nothing had been said or done but you could feel the tension weighing heavier than before, your dreams becoming closer and closer to reality.

“The pictures of Deadnite that got leaked have been taken care of. The only existing hard copies are in this file.” You wave a thick file around in your right hand before sliding it onto your boss’s desk.

The Pro hero Deadnite’s file keeps on landing on your desk, this time for having pictures leaked of him in compromising positions. Enji trusts you with keeping or taking this kind of bad publicity out of the hands of the press, which is a hard task, to say the least.

“Thank you for taking care of it so swiftly.” Enji grumbles as he takes the file and flips through it. He takes a look at the pictures before throwing the file back down on his desk with a sigh. The excitement for you exits his body, work crudely drawing him back in.

You notice the shift in Enji’s expression, making you bite your lip at if you should try something to get his attention back. Your eyes fall on the empty coffee mug on his desk.

“I’ll get you some coffee Mr. Todoroki.” You say, making him blink in confusion for a second as he forgot the mug even existed, never mind that it was empty.

You bend your upper body over the big oak wood desk, taking your time to reach the mug on the other side. Enji’s gaze quickly falls on your cleavage, getting a better view of it than ever before as you pick up the mug next to his left arm.

He swallows thickly, his cock hardening as he admires your soft breasts.

Frustration washes over him when you move away again.

With the mug in hand, you stare at your boss from across the desk, wondering what he’s thinking as he frowns. Did you overstep?

Enji’s eyes meet yours, the intense blue seeming to have darkened with lust. “I think you’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.”

You shift nervously on your feet, his booming voice making you unsure if he is angry. “I don’t know-” You start, eyes aimed at the ground but he quickly cuts you off. “Don’t fake innocence. I’m not angry.” Your eyes snap back up at his words, the tension leaving your body at that reassurance.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but it seems you are craving something from me.” Enji says, flashing a cocky grin at you, a rare sight. You feel heat rising to your cheeks at his words.

“Come here.” He pushes himself away a bit from his desk, tapping his leg to motion you to sit on his lap. You walk around his desk over to his side, legs shaky from adrenaline as you wonder what’s to come.

Enji hums in satisfaction as you sit down on his lap, one of his hands half reaching around you to hold your waist. A shiver runs down your body as he brings his face closer to yours, hot breath tingling against your neck. “You are a smart girl. You should know better than to tease a man like me.” He speaks softly, chuckling.

You gasp out as his free hand grabs onto your chin, roughly pulling it to make you face him. Enji’s lips meet yours in a blink of an eye, pulling you into a rough kiss. His lips feel like they are on fire as they move against yours, his tongue making use of your tiny gasps as it quickly enters your mouth.

You can’t help but moan into the kiss. The way that his arm around your waist pulls you tightly against his broad chest as he kisses you making heat rise between your legs.

Enji’s fire is felt by you at every touch. The heat of his skin, his almost burning lips and the taste of smoke as he tangles his tongue with yours is more intense than you ever imagined.

You move to hold onto him, hands tiny against his shoulders. Flinging your legs over his free one, you move yourself to sit directly on his lap. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel Enji’s cock rubbing up against your thighs, the length of it being a welcome surprise.

The tight grip on your chin disappears, Enji moving his lips away from yours. You look up at your boss, lustful eyes focused on his stern face. It isn’t easy to know what he is thinking, but in this case, his eyes betray him just as much as yours do.

Enji’s gaze moves up and down your body. One of his calloused hands runs over one of your thighs before giving it a generous squeeze, causing you to squeal out. A slight smirk tugs at the sides of his lips as he kneads the soft flesh under his hand.

“Tell me how long you have wanted this, wanted me.” Your response gets stuck in your throat as Enji’s lips move to your neck, placing bruising kisses along it. “F-for months.” You stutter out. His teeth teasingly graze your sensitive flesh, lips already just below your collarbone.

You take a sharp breath and brace yourself against Enji as his lips find your breasts. His bruising kisses turn literal as he starts marking your exposed skin. You writhe under his touch, the wetness between your thighs starting to dampen your panties.

The hand on your thigh had been forgotten, making you jolt when it slips under your skirt. Enji’s fingers rub over your clothed sex, making the material even wetter. You hear him chuckle against your skin, pleased with your body’s reaction.

Enji’s mind is completely clouded by lust, his intention to tease you until you cry wavering as he grows impatient. He has already imagined what your tight heat would feel like around him more than enough, he wants the real thing.

Dragging your soaked panties to the side, you feel two of Enji’s fingers prod at your entrance. You mewl loudly as the intrusion of his fingers stretches your walls deliciously. His fingers find little resistance as he slides them in and out of your soaked pussy, spurring him on to not go gentle.

Enji’s cock twitches under you as he gets the first feel of your tightness. His lips move away from your breasts so he can watch your face. The way you switch between biting your lip to opening them into a pleasured O, making him wish he had the time to slide his cock between them.

But Enji knew it would only be a matter of time before some emergency would come up that would require his attention and he wanted to make sure your pussy was dripping with cum by then.

He continues his motions, fucking you on his fingers, stilling now and then to spread his fingers in a scissoring movement. Your nails are felt through his blouse as you dig them in harshly.

Your eyes flutter closed in bliss when Enji’s fingers curl inside you, rubbing your sweet spot in hasty motions. He feels your walls flutter around him, the tension in your core building to your climax. With a few more precise flicks of his fingers, he has you coming undone around him, making you bite your lip hard to stifle your moans.

Enji groans as he pulls his fingers out of your twitching heat. They glisten, coated in your slick. You take hold of his wrist, drawing his fingers to your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes, you suck at his fingers eagerly. You notice a slight twitch in his face as you clean him up, his patience snapping,

As soon as you release Enji’s fingers his hands grab onto your waist roughly. He lifts you off of his lap before bending you over his desk, cock eagerly rubbing against your ass. He leans over your form. “Better bite down on something.” He whispers in your ear, causing you to whimper under him.

Your forearms are planted against the cold wood, bracing yourself as Enji drags his pants and boxers down behind you. His fingers pull your panties to the side and your breath stops for second as you feel the head of his cock poke between your folds. It feels like your held in breath gets knocked out of you as he starts sliding in. Your walls ache as he works in his cock inch by inch, his girth stretching you like nobody has before.

“Oh my god, Todoroki.” You moan, your jaw dropping as he sheaths himself fully inside of you. Enji’s fingers let go of your panties, leaving them tugged against your thigh. “I never gave you permission to not address me as your superior.” He lands a hard smack against your ass, your skin reddening instantly under your skirt. You hiss through your teeth, pussy clenching around his cock from his harsh treatment.

“I’m sorry sir!” You yelp out as Enji slides his cock out of you almost completely before ramming it back in. “That’s right.” He groans and grips your hips with a bruising force.

You feel your body rocking forward into the desk with every thrust, his pace being slow but hard. The way his cock drags against your walls making you mewl.

Enji admires your smaller frame under him as he fucks you, groaning as his eyes fall on your pussy. His cock twitches inside of you as he watches it slip in and out of your soaked hole, lips eagerly gripping and sucking him in every time his pelvis meets your ass.

His speed picks up, the desire to see you completely unravel under him becoming unbearable. You scream out his name, his title, anything your mind still allows you to muster up, making one of Enji’s hands move to cover your mouth. “Do you want everyone in the office to known that I’m fucking you?!” He hisses.

Enji’s fast pace and sharp thrusts have your eyes rolling back, the tension in your core starting to build again. His hand on your hip pulls you to meet a hard thrust, your legs shaking as he hits your sweet spot with such force. Your walls flutter in pleasure, the feeling of them around his cock spurring him on even more.

“Cum for me!” Enji groans. Your muffled moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin are resonating in the room, hopefully not too loudly.

You bite into his hand as you cum hard around his cock, moving back against him to intensify it. Behind you Enji curses loudly before giving your ass another hard smack, making your pussy quiver around him.

He groans your name, giving one more snap of his hips before spilling his seed into you. You whimper as hot ropes of cum fill you, a bit of it slipping past his cock onto your thighs.

Enji’s hand leaves your mouth, knuckle stroking over the arch of your back as you shiver. He pulls his cock out of you, gathering the cum that’s spilling out on the head and pushing it back into you. After he is done he moves your panties back over your reddened pussy with a snap, chuckling as you yelp out.

You groan as he urges your tired body off of his desk. When you are off Enji pushes you to your knees and it’s clear to you what he wants. You open your mouth and he wastes no time in sliding his cock into your mouth.

You take in as much as you can, hollowing your cheeks to accommodate the girth as you suck him clean. Tasting the mixture of both of you makes your lust bloom up yet again but he pulls your head away after just a minute.

Enji smirks slightly as he tugs his cock back into his boxers and buckles his pants back up. Your eyes can’t help but stay focused on his big hands working his buckle, more sinful fantasies involving it starting to form.

You get up when he’s dressed and a dark blush spreads over your face as what just happened dawns on you. You just fucking your boss, oh no. You feel like turning on your heel and storming out right that second, too embarrassed and worried to form a sentence.

Enji’s hand catches your chin, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I hope you are aware that after today you’ll be assigned a new daily task. Clear an hour out of your schedule for it.” He tells you, so business-like that if you weren’t just fucked silly by him you wouldn’t have gotten it. He lets go of your chin and moves away as you stare at him.

You nod your head, smiling at your boss. “I’ll be right on it Mr. Todoroki.” Sitting back on his chair, he straightens out his blouse before returning to his paperwork.

You start to walk out of his office, a bit wonky in your heels. Enji clears his throat behind you, making you stop and turn around. He points at the coffee mug and at first, you think he’s joking, but as he picks it up and hands it to you you realize he isn’t.

You take the mug from Enji with a sheepish grin before walking out. The door falls shut behind you, leaving you wondering what you have gotten yourself into as your heart beats fast in your chest.

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