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lazysublimeengineer · 3 years

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of glamorous appearances and intrigues

Summary: One shot sequel to Umbrella Man.

Everyone is here for the infamous Takemichi Hanagaki.

And enticing him to join in their own gang has proven to be difficult than they initially thought.

Characters: Senju K., Takemichi H. & I. Wakasa

Draken watched warily the surroundings around them. His face and stomach still hurt like fucking hell after he was punched like a sack of potatoes by that bastard Terano. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries and his major concern now was the nervous, scrawny blond beside him as every gang leader present here wanted to swoop Takemichi right away into their gang once they managed to convince him to join their team.

Fuck, their crybaby hero was always a magnet for trouble and dangerous people.

He can’t even imagine the clusterfuck that they’ll have to face if Mikey and his gang arrives here all of a sudden.

The tension has gotten too thick now that one could sliced it with a bread knife once the gang leader of Brahman and the top 2 of the three deities, Kawaragi Senju, has arrived here with a dramatic entrance of landing a solid kick to the face of Terano after distracting him of his flying umbrella.

Served him right. That fucking bastard.

Draken glanced at Takemichi with a neutral expression on his face. The poor boy was getting more nervous and bewildered by the events unfolding in front of him. He needed to remind him to keep his shit together and refrain from making any sudden, impulsive decisions that he may predictably regret in the end. However, before he could even speak to him, a loud smacking sound into the ground had caught his attention and his eyes landed on Shion being plummeted by a severe punch of another newcomer that made Draken instantly cautious and alert.

“You’re a disgrace to Black Dragon! So, cut that shit already!” The man yelled ferociously to Shion who was sporting a chin strap style beard.

Draken could see that Takemichi flinched from the corner of his eyes.

“That’s Benkei-kun, from the First Gen.” Inui’s stated calmly and he stored it from the back of his mind.

Well, they’re in deep shit. And it doesn’t really help that the added unwanted guests who kept coming into this fray made his hackles rose.

Draken guessed that he had no choice but to fight their way out of this one. A wide grin crossed his features and readied his body into a fighting stance.

“Its been a while since this engine has gotten heated up! Let’s get this party started!”

Takemichi blinked a few times as he stared at Senju who already stood up to his full height while holding his umbrella calmly and stared at Terano with a blank expression on his face.

“Hold on. This little guy…Is Brahman’s boss?” Takemichi mumbled to himself, a slight look of disbelief and confusion marring his youthful features.

Takemichi knew that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and underestimate the people around him. He already learned it the hard way from his past experiences. Nevertheless, it still took him by surprise sometimes on how could a small and young-looking person could pack a certain punch to his knuckles and deliver a roundhouse kick that would send them into a fitful sleep.

It made Takemichi wary yet intrigued by this innocent looking gang leader of the Brahman. He surmised that his deep-seated eyes and ingenuous features had somewhat landed him in being underestimated by the other gangsters who doesn’t know what he’s capable of.

Just like with Shion who was now questioning his presence and capabilities.

But before he could even mull about it for any longer, his attention was fully caught when someone just socked Shion directly into his face that made him fall down like a ragdoll into the ground. The newcomer made him flinched and grimaced in an instant as he looked at them with wide eyes.

“Senju! Brahman is not here today to brawl! Our objective is Hanagaki Takemichi!” The man berated Senju harshly.

“You’re so loud Benkei.” Senju replied dispassionately, unaffected by the man’s infuriating voice directed at him.

“Oh yeah! I’ve completely forgotten it too! They’re here to scout me…But why?” Takemichi tried to rattle every possibility inside his brain for a reason why most of them wanted to recruit him to their own gang suddenly.

“If Takemichi wishes to return to the world of delinquency…He belongs to us, Rokuhara Tandai!” Kakucho announced firmly after he landed a solid punch to Benkei and sent him flying into the corner.

“Kaku-chan!” Takemichi exclaimed in disbelief as his thoughts were cut off by his sudden action and bold announcement.

“Right Takemichi?” Kakucho looked at him square in the eye.

“Uh! Um…” Takemichi replied intelligently. His face was bewildered yet conflicted at the same time.

Does he really need to choose here? Right now? But how could he know if he made the right decision of accepting an offer from one of these gangs? Won’t he regret it in the end?

Takemichi could feel his mind was about to explode from the onslaught of rapid thoughts and information. Quick decision making was never his strong suit and he can probably make a goddamn mistake again from the pressure of this tense situation.

Senju was quiet and was still sporting an unflappable expression on his face despite the bold attack and claims of Kakucho. But his eyes narrowed imperceptibly and his grip tightened on his umbrella. A slight dislike wormed its way to his very being as he watched Kakucho tried to convinced Takemichi to join them by putting him on the spot. He could sensed the waves of conflicting emotions radiating off Takemichi as he tried and failed to give a proper response.

At times like this, they also had to draw out their trump card to neutralize the situation and gain Takemichi’s hand and favor. He wouldn’t let the other gangs swept Takemichi off of his feet and win him over. He’d have to play every trick on this game to outsmart them and win this blond who possessed those electrifying blue eyes which could be their weapon against them. Senju gave a subtle glance to Akashi to which the latter understood and signaled for their top executive to enter the scene.

“This gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it, Waka?” Akashi stated with a lazy grin on his face.

“No, it doesn’t.” A young man suddenly appeared behind Kakucho which made him surprised and fell backwards.

“When did you—?”

“If I cared enough, this guy wouldn’t be standing alive.” Wakasa cut him off with a bored look etched into his face.

‘These monsters come out one after another!’ Takemichi thought incredulously.

“Hey! Don’t just appear glamorously out of nowhere Waka!” Benkei yelled furiously.

“I’m just following Senju’s orders.” Wakasa replied nonchalantly.

A series of murmurs and mutterings then erupted from the other gangsters who were also bystanders from the corners.

Nevertheless, Wakasa tuned them out as his disinterested gaze landed on the infamous Hanagaki Takemichi.

So, this was the one huh?

The notorious morale weapon of the Touman gang in the past.

There was nothing exceptional to this man and he possessed a face that he could probably forget after 2 days of meeting him. Nevertheless, despite his scrawny appearance and the fearful stance in front of them, Takemichi’s eyes caught him the most. It was the shade of a perfect blue that reminds of peaceful skies in the Spring. It’s also expressive and open that he could read every emotion and obvious thought from them. He gleaned that Takemichi was an honest and sincere type of guy.

A refreshing breathe of fresh air into their world that’s full of ragtag delinquents and decrepit liars.

Wakasa casually made his way towards the scrawny blond and crossed his personal space, staring at him intently in the eye.

“Hanagaki Takemichi. We’re here to scout you. Join us, will you?” Wakasa stated in a detached voice as he continued to study the multitude of expressions that flit across his face from his statement alone.

Takemichi stepped backwards, taken aback by Wakasa’s sudden proximity around him and his intense stare. He swallowed thickly as he looked back at him hesitantly. The top executive was sporting a bland yet expectant look on his face as if waiting for his confirmation to join them instead. His long, ponytailed locks that have some streaks of highlights reminded him of Kazutora’s style and his dead yet intense stare reminded him of Sanzu.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He just oozes danger and trouble yet Takemichi can’t tear his eyes away from him as if he was briefly captivated by those intense eyes that was boring right into his soul.

An imperceptible sigh broke him out of his strange trance and he turned his attention to Senju who was looking at them with an indifferent expression on his face.

Senju pursed his lips as his line of sight caught Wakasa invading the personal space of the blond, a flare of annoyance started to creeped into his veins before he inwardly sighs and clamped it down.

Now was not the right time to pay attention to these odd yet irritating sensations that were engulfing his brain.

“Don’t scare him like that Waka. Our main goal is to scout Takemichi.” Senju stated bluntly.

Wakasa stepped away from him. But his gaze lingered on Takemichi for a few seconds before he trained his attention to Senju. “Right. I understand. Sorry if I’m coming out too strong for you Takemichi.”

Takemichi chuckled nervously before he stepped beside Inui, trying to calm down his stuttering heart.

What the hell was happening to him?

“Hanagaki. Those are the living legends. Waka and Benkei. They’re the best duo from the 1st Gen Black Dragon! And then, 1stGen Vice President, “The God of War” Akashi Takeomi. This is…The founding members of 1st Gen Black Dragon.” Inui informed him calmly.

Takemichi absorbed Inui’s words, digesting them inside his head. So, this was the generation led by Mikey’s brother, Shinichiro Sano. And now, these living legends were being led by the mysterious deity in front of them and was coined the “Unmatched Kawaragi Senju.”

With Senju leading these men in the front, it already gave him an idea of how immensely powerful this enigmatic man in front of him. And it made his curiosity peaked around—

“What the hell are you guys hyping each other for?”

Draken’s loud voice cut off his wandering thoughts and looked at him with a befuddled expression on his face.

“Should we continue where we left off?”

Before Takemichi can get a word in, Draken was was already challenging Terano again to a fist fight and cracking his knuckles, a vicious grin was present on his face.

“W-what is going on now?” Takemichi stammered as he could feel his soul leave out of his body.

Were they seriously going to fight now?!

Meanwhile, Wakasa and Senju watched Takemichi from afar, his anxious flailing made them amuse and fascinated.

They both know that getting this blond into their gang would make things more interesting and they’ll make sure to win him over to their team by any means necessary.

(A/N: I don’t own any of these characters from the franchise. Only this insane fic of mine. Apologies in advance if some of them are OOC especially the new ones as I tried to make them in character. Wakasa only appeared in the few panels of the manga but I tried to connect his characterization basing from his few dialogues and behavior to this fic of mine. This was inspired by the events of chapter 213 of the manga. Chapter 213 was funny and wild. The boys are fighting over Takemichi and wants a piece of him. And ofc. The glamorous appearance of the cool yet distant Wakasa has haunted my shipping ass and couldn’t resist adding him to Takemichi’s harem. So, what’s the appropriate ship name for this newborn ship? Wakamichi or Wakatake? Or you have something cooler ship name in mind? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section.)

#recruiting takemichi hours has begun #sentake #wakamichi or wakatake #you decide #spoilers #manga spoilers for chapter 213 #ambiguous relationship #character study #draken has enough of their shit #chapter 213 is equivalent to takemichi's harem #everybody wants a piece of takemichi #fanfiction #tokyo revengers #takemichi hanagaki #imaushi wakasa #senju kawaragi #takemitchy #senju #wakasa

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blindingdutchy · 3 years

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lamentation | SEVEN

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 4,000

warnings: fluff. angst. language. not even sure why i warn for angst anymore this whole story is just angsty af

18+!!! minors stay away!

In the following few weeks, you realized two things. One: Peter Parker was definitely not subtle. The other being that you were definitely in way over your head. There was no denying the stupid butterflies in your stomach anymore, or the way you found yourself expecting his touch before it even came.

It seemed as though the two of you were like magnets; a constant tug gravitating the pair of you back to each other with an unstoppable force. If you weren't together, he was on your mind, and like he could sense you thinking of him he'd be quick to reach out in some way or another. Be it appearing at your side, all happy grins and playful eyes, or calling your phone no matter the time with his stupidly adorable stutter--Peter seemed to think of you just as much as you thought of him.

The more that you thought of him, the more that you wished you didn't. It was terrifying. You wished that you could pull away again, to push him back out of your heart and lock those iron bars tight once more, but your heart had grown selfish and stubborn. It was as if you were the one locked out anymore; the control over your feelings slipping further and further from your clutches with every toothy smile Peter sent your way.

Like a magnet, he held you in place. Oh, to be held by... You slapped a pillow over your face and screamed, holding it so tightly that your nose ached and you couldn't breath. Peter Parker was like a disease. A stupid, all-consuming, utterly infatuating disease of the mind and the spirit.

You knew that you were wasting time, undoubtedly causing yourself to risk being late for school with every minute that passed as you continued to lay in your bed, but you couldn't bring yourself to get up. Already, your mother and father both had knocked at your door on multiple occasions and questioned if you were sick, and now you were regretting saying no. It would have been so easy to avoid him if you'd just played hookie.

But, with midterms in the near future, you knew it wasn't the best idea. The realization had come to you in the night. A moment so insignificant, so mundane, but it had been as if a switch were flipped in your mind. A light was turned on, so to speak, and illuminated all the thoughts and emotions you'd been so tirelessly repressing.

Talking on the phone with Peter was like a drug, and talking on the phone to him at night was a dangerous game. Under the dull light of a crescent moon and the ridiculous teddy-bear night light that was plugged into your wall, a lingering remnant of your sister's presence in the space, your inhibitions were always low. With sleepiness your walls were always lowered, and he'd unknowingly put a fatal crack in the foundation.

You rolled onto your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet through the air like a little kid as you fought back the grin that always seemed to worm its way across your lips when you were talking to him. "So, how do you like Ned and MJ?" Peter asked, and you could almost picture him mirroring your position as you heard the quiet rustle of blankets over the line. A little giggle bubbled out of your mouth at the thought.

What a sight that would be, Peter kicking his legs to and fro like a school girl in love. "They're cool. I kinda like that MJ doesn't even pretend to hide the fact that she thinks I'm weird. I don't--I don't know, it's refreshing I guess. Ned's sweet." you rambled, and it was the truth.

Ned and MJ were easily slipping into the fortress that shielded your heart with every passing day. Somehow, it wasn't as terrifying as you'd expected it to be. Perhaps that was because they didn't harbor a secret identity with which they risked their lives every single night, or maybe it was just because you'd come to realize that letting people in wasn't so bad. Not everyone was going to die on you.

Michelle Jones really didn't pretend not to think you were weird, not even a little bit. Her blunt and honest nature was a nice change from the quiet stares that seemed to follow your every move; MJ wasn't much for staring. Rather, she boldly told you what she was thinking without any shred of doubt.

And Ned, sweet Ned Leeds, was like a puppy personified. Always happy, always smiling, and always waiting to offer you compliments when you approached. You couldn't remember the last time someone had dared compliment your hair, your smile, or your outfits. Ned made it impossible to feel anything but comfort and joy in his presence, even his awkward nature was endearing.

"I'm glad." Peter hummed, "They really like you. To be honest, though, I kinda like it when it's just us. Maybe I should have waited a little longer to share you."

There was a pang in your chest at his words. Peter had been subtly flirting with you for days now, but this was more direct. He didn't have to come right out and say it for his implications to come across loud and clear, and that magnetic pull grew stronger.

So strong, in fact, that you murmured back, "I like it when it's just us, too."

If you had just kept your mouth shut, maybe he wouldn't have been so bold as to say, "Not gonna let them steal your heart from me, are you?"

The words were right at the tip of your tongue. Your heart was screaming, never! Nobody could ever steal me away from you, Peter! Yet, your mind was racing with a million and one horrible thoughts that made you feel as though your mouth was full of mud.

The silence between yourself and Peter grew thick as it drew on, no words escaping your lead-like lips. The voice in your brain, the one that sounded like your sister yet you knew was not her, was ringing in your ears. How could you ever fall in love, when she never could? How could you give your heart away, when she never had the chance?

You took that chance away from her. You stole it. This thing, whatever the weird force between the two of you was, was all stolen time, stolen opportunities, and stolen lives.

"Good night, (Y/N). I'll see you at school?"

You whispered, "Yes." The line went dead, and you felt cold.

Those simple words from Peter, with meaning and intention that was far from simple, were all it took to send the walls, bars, and barbed wire around your heart crumbling into nothing. With no protection, no barrier between yourself and the dangers of everyone else, your mind was working on overdrive. It would have been so easy to let him in, had that voice remained quiet, and yet you were steadily building those bricks back into place.

Now, all that was left to do was to steal your heart back. When had he managed to take it from you? Had he snuck in during the night, slipping through the strategically placed cracks and weak points he'd created, and stole away with it undetected? Had he taken it that first night, without you ever noticing?

As you finally released the pressure over the pillow on your face, sucking in a shaky breathe and letting all the heavy things crash over you again, tears burned your eyes. You didn't want to push Peter away. You didn't want to be the reason he was hurt, upset, or angry--you weren't ready to be the villain in his story.

"Mom?" you called out, knowing she was lingering close by.

Proving you correct, the door to your bedroom cracked open only seconds later and your mother's worried eyes fell upon your blinking ones. She definitely saw the troubled look on your face, the tears in your eyes, yet she held back from mentioning any of it as she asked, "Are you sick, honey?"

You nodded, the lump in your throat aiding your act as you croaked, "Yes. I don't feel good."

She frowned a little, knowing that you were bending the truth of the matter. Your mother was perceptive, and with the emotion all over your face, it easy for her to know that this wasn't some stomach bug or sore throat. To your relief, though, she resigned, "I'll call you out of school for the day. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Tomorrow, you could be the villain. For today, though, you were content to avoid your troubles and wallow in your self pity. At least this way you had some time to slip back into your stoic, cold demeanor before you had to face him. Time to prepare yourself to be alone again, because you knew that once you pushed Peter Parker away, Ned and MJ would be quick to follow him.

Sleep didn't come for you like you hoped it would. Well, it did, but then you found yourself dreaming of Peter and woke with a start. School had started an hour ago, and already there were a flurry of confused and increasingly alarmed messages from him lighting up your phone screen. Even though you couldn't hold back from reading them, you locked it before you found yourself replying as if on autopilot.

Pete: are you late

Pete: i'm at your locker

Pete: hello?

Pete: i'm going to class... see you there?

Pete: are you okay? you said you'd be here

Pete: at least let me know you're aldkhdkfj

You spent the day in your room, ignoring Peter and ignoring the world. Occasionally your mother would crack open your door to check on you, fussing over feeling your forehead despite the fact that you both knew you didn't have a fever, and tittering little comments about getting rest and staying hydrated. She knew you weren't sick, yet you were grateful she didn't try to pry.

As much as you wanted to tell her all of the things that were on your mind, the reasons that you were upset, you couldn't. You couldn't tell her all of the awful things you were thinking, and see the way her face would contort in anguish over you. You certainly couldn't listen to her telling you that it wasn't your fault, you weren't wrong for liking a boy, and your sister would want you to be happy. Even if you knew, in some deep part of your brain, that it was true.

Pete: got my phone taken in calculus sorry

Pete: I'm at lunch now, are you okay?

Pete: are you sick?

Pete: like... actually sick?

Peter really was relentless. You wondered how long it would take for him to catch onto what you were doing, or if he would at all. Would he understand why you suddenly gave him the cold shoulder? Would he understand, and be okay when you pushed him away again?

Pete: I'm in speech now.

Pete: we got the class to work on the speech and you're not here

Pete: not that we could do much anyways since you're so stubborn but still

Pete: okay what is going on

Pete: (Y/N)

Pete: please talk to me

Reading all of his messages kept the ache in your chest alive, stopping the numbness from creeping back in. You wished you could put your phone down, turn it off even, but it was like a cruel an addicting game to read each message as it arrived. You found yourself watching the little three dots as he typed another message eagerly, even if he was far from happy.

When school ended, he called. You let it ring each time, watching his name scroll across your screen over and over again until it ended. Once, twice, three times--he finally stopped calling, not leaving a voicemail.

For awhile, you wondered if that was it. Was he done? Had he caught on? Had he figured you out just as easily as he always seemed to do? Had Peter given up?

Pete: i know what you're doing

Pete: i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable

Pete: we can just be friends if that's what you want

It wasn't what you wanted, and that was the problem. You didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. Well, you didn't want to just be friends with him. You wanted to know what his touch felt like when it was deliberate and welcoming, not the fleeting and curious brushes of his skin on yours. To be held by him, to taste his lips, to hold his heart in your hands like he already held yours--you wanted so much more than friendship with Peter, and that made you a thief and a fraud.

You: that's not what i want

You were weak. A weak, cowardly idiot is what you were, and you threw your phone on your bed with a groan as you realized what you'd done. The voice in your mind whispered insults, taunting you for being so easily broken.

Pete: what do you mean

You: i don't want to be friends with you Peter

Pete: oh

One simple word, and you realized he had taken that in a completely different way than you had meant it. Yet, you didn't correct him. You didn't explain that you meant you didn't want to just be friends. Maybe this was your chance--an easy way to kick him outside your walls without having to see it firsthand.

The chance didn't last long. A quiet knock sounded on your window, and your heart froze in your chest as you tried to sink deeper into your bed. It was the wind, you told yourself, until the knock sounded again and slightly louder. You could see the shadow on your floor out of the corner of your eye, and you buried your face into your pillow to block it out. If you ignored him, he would go away, and this would all be over.

After a few more knocks, it was silent for awhile, and you tempted a look at the floor only to frown at the sight of the shadow missing. He was gone, and you were alone again. Your lip quivered at the thought; what had you done? It was a mistake. This was a mistake.

You didn't want to push him away. You wanted him to hold your heart. You wanted Peter Parker as your friend, as more than a friend, hell, as anything as long as it was with you. But now? Going back on your word and dragging him back in again would be pathetic. He didn't deserve such treatment, especially not from you.

So, you pulled your pillow back over your face and let the tears fall. Your hot breath burned your eyes and made you feel sticky and gross, but you didn't care one bit. It felt cathartic to cry, like returning to a familiar place you'd been skirting around for ages. Crying over Peter was different than crying over your sister; the hurt was different, but one thing was the same: both were all your fault.

"Go away, mom." you whined, barely hearing the sound of your door unlatching over your muffled sniffles. It creaked further open, and you groaned, pressing the pillow harder onto your face, "Mom, please, I just want to be alone."

A throat cleared, and you froze. That wasn't your mother, the voice was deeper. The sound was still too light to be your father's, though, and that left one option that made your blood run cold. He didn't--did he?

He did. Peter pried the pillow out of your hands, all red cheeks and sad eyes as he stared at you in a sullen silence. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered, "Why are you pushing me away?"

You blinked at him, too paralyzed by the sight of his fluttering eyelids and pouting lips to speak. It must have been a sight to see you like that, your face red and blotchy, streaked with tears and snot that you'd been too lazy to wipe away. He didn't look away from your eyes, though, gazing into them with an intensity that dared you to look away.

Sensing that you weren't going to speak, he pressed on, "(Y/N), what is going on? I don't--It's okay if you don't like me back, I can deal with that. I want to be your friend, though. I thought you wanted to be mine, too."

Voice scratchy, you muttered, "I don't."

Something changed in him, and suddenly Peter was raking a hand through his hair as he frowned deeply. You wanted to smooth the crease between his brows, but you felt frozen. He was angry; he was angry with you, and he didn't hold back as he snapped, "That's bullshit, and you know it. If you didn't want to be friends, then why did you make that deal? Why did you let me make a complete fool of myself just to get your attention? Why did you let me introduce you to my friends? Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not!" you yelped, sitting up frantically and wiping at your face, finally. "I'm not lying, Pete!"

He threw his head back at the nickname, a sigh of exasperation forcing its way from his lips, nostrils flared. "I don't get you, (Y/N). I don't get you at all." he growled, facing you again with a heavy brow.

You gripped your blankets tightly, bunching them around your waist as you blinked at him with wide eyes. "I don't want to just be your friend, Peter!" you burst, "I don't want to just be your friend, and I don't know why. You make me feel all these things that terrify me, but I keep chasing after you and whatever those things are! It was so easy being alone, okay? Then suddenly you came swinging into my life and made everything so--so complicated!"

Your mother's face peered into your room, eyes blown wide in surprise, but the moment you glanced at her she backed away with a bitten smile and you flushed. You didn't get the chance to dwell on the fact that she'd been eavesdropping, though, because Peter sat on the edge of your bed and bit the inside of his cheek, blinking at you with teasing eyes.

"So, you like me?"

Eyes narrowed, you grumbled, "Are you really going to make me say it, Pete? After all of that?"

A sly grin stretched across his lips, cheeks puffing out adorably and making you bite your own to keep from grinning too. He tutted, raising his ruffled brow as he jabbed, "After everything else today? I think it's the least you could do."

You were screwed. His fingertips barely caressed the backs of your knuckles, and you shakily grabbed them before he pulled away again. "I like you, jerk." you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut as you felt your face burn in embarrassment.

Peter just chuckled, squeezing your hand as you felt your bed shift under his weight. "I don't want to just be your friend, either." his breathe fanned over your cheek, and your eyes snapped open to find his face closer than ever. If you just turned, ever so slightly, his lips would brush your own... He kissed your cheek softly, backing away with a tiny smile that you matched. "I like you a lot. Probably more than like, really."

"That scares me." you whispered, eyes still latched onto his, "Peter, you scare me."

He took a long moment to answer, weighing heavily the words he would utter next, before finally telling you, "You scare me, too, but I think it's worth it."

A gentle tapping at your door crashed through the moment, both of your faces burning a deep red as you turned to face your mother's sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry, don't mind me--"

"Mom!" you wailed, slapping your hands over your face in mortification as she stealthily slipped into your room and dropped a box of condoms onto your dresser before racing away again. "Oh, I can't believe she--Mom! Did you really have to do that?"

Peter was laughing boisterously, head thrown back and eyes shut, though you could tell he was flustered too from the cherry red color that creeped down from his face and under his shirt. As humiliated as you were by your mother's actions, you couldn't help but to feel a little grateful for the interruption. The intensity, the tension in the air, had disappeared with the intrusion, and things felt a little bit lighter again.

You flopped back onto your bed, still pouting over the spectacle, as Peter breathed out, "That's so something Aunt May would have done, too."

At least you weren't alone in the embarrassing family department, you thought to yourself as Peter threw himself down beside you. She meant well, obviously, but did she really think that you and Peter were going to go from admitting you liked each other to ripping each other's clothes off in one night? Well, you were eighteen--maybe she had a bit of a reason to be so hasty.

"Do you think it's worth it?" Peter questioned, and you turned your head to face him, trying to ignore the close proximity of his face to your own. "Liking me?"

You chewed at your lip, listening for that voice in your head that had suddenly gone silent. "Yeah, yeah I do." you responded, and his face split in a blushing smile. You did think it was worth it, because being with him reminded you of all the good feelings you missed out on when he wasn't around. "I just wish we could have been like this before. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like I'm stealing her life."

He grew serious in an instant, eyebrows furrowing as he stated, "I don't." At the sight of your confusion, he continued, "I don't wish we met before. Can you honestly say that you're the same person you were before?"

"No."

He nodded, "Exactly. Stuff like that... It changes you. I would know, remember? You wouldn't be the you that I like, and if Uncle Ben were here maybe I wouldn't be who you like, either."

You had to admit, he had a point. "I guess so." you pondered aloud.

"You're not stealing her life, either, (Y/N). She would have wanted you to be happy, to do all the things she never got to. It took me a long time to stop thinking that way, too, but I did. It wasn't your fault, and you can't miss out on stuff just because of her." Peter advised, and you swallowed down the lump that was growing steadily in your throat, "She didn't give up her life for you to stop living yours."

Fuck, Peter really knew exactly what to say. You, however, were at a loss for words. He said all of the things that you'd needed to hear for so long, so perfectly, and it rocked you to your core. How did he know just what you needed to hear? The answer was simple--because he knew you, and he knew how you were feeling. He knew, because he had lived it.

Changing the subject, you asked, "So, what do we do now?"

You didn't have to explain for him to understand, and he swallowed thickly, "Do you... will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah. That might be worth it."

He scoffed, "Might be? Forget it, I don't want you to be my--"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Pete!" you cut him off, laughing loudly. "I really, really want to." So, maybe you lied when you said that Peter made things complicated. In fact, Peter made things incredibly easy--and that made it worth it.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony @cherthegoddess @justsomebodyweird

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shijas · 3 years

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touched-starved megumi slowly being acclimatised to touch really lives rent free in my head.

like, his childhood was pretty all over the place, and he clearly spent middle school getting into fights and straight up brooding, so it’s make sense for touch in megumi’s mind to be associated with strength and violence and pain and vulnerability, the latter two things would especially be hard for megumi to live with i think???? i don’t really know how to explain??? but like we see that uncontrolled vulinerabilty, and leaving yourself vulnerable is like putting yourself on a wanted list for shamans. and so touch, in megumi’s eyes, should only occur with a few specific purposes and those purposes usually weren’t the most pleasant experiences in his mind. i assume people only touched him for: training/sparring, which is literally allocated time when someone can just straight up, inflict harm; someone deciding to fight him out of jealousy or revenge or fear or some sort of negative emotion; and in the worst case scenario people are touching him to heal him because in some capacity he’s weak, he was not strong enough to do whatever he needed to do without injury. i think healing touches, when the touch has to be gentle because fundamentally megumi is already vulunerable and already hurting would sting the most, like emotionally and physically because sometimes touch, even gentle touch, do he hurting tho... (this got long, but for how nobara/yuji break this pattern keep reading!)

and then nobara and yuji arrive and it’s like a hurricane of positive touching. yuji is affectionate!! physical touch is definitely a part of his love languages and so yuji just enjoys giving hugs!! yuji likes high fives!! and fist bumps!! and holding hangs while swinging them in the space between eachother while walking, even though it’s kind of childish. and megumi doesn’t know how to say no to these things, to the boundless enthusiasm that is yuji!! and he also feels a little guilty because he kinda dragged yuji into this world, away from his friends and the familiar comfort/touch he was used too. so megumi doesn’t like, consciously, try to stop any of the touch despite his general aversion. instead he indulges yuji to the best of his ability, because he comes to find that it’s not always bad and he doesn’t really mind; it takes a while to fully like not have a defensive, fight or flight response to the touches and he defo judo flips and sucker punches yuji over and over, because yuji is 1000000% a sneak affection attacker. the closest touch has ever been to ‘nice’ for megumi is probably healing for his stupid amount of serious wounds, and as both an apology and his first steps in reciprocation, megumi applies the gentleness of healing touches he remembers to the injuries he (accidentally??) gives yuji, because all he really about touch that isn’t supposed to hurt is how to rub softly against a spot that will probably bruise, and how to wrap or plaster a cut from a judo flip that led to some scrapes, he’s very good at icing bumps and twists and strains; and so they put themselves back together like that, and yuji keeps up his ‘surprise back hug events’ like they don’t straight up lead to a bruised sternum.

nobara breaks down the ‘touch is violence, touch is pain and pain is bad’-thing even faster than yuji, because she’s lived by her philolosphy as an affectionate puncher, a sweet kicker; she’s defo the type to bite your fingers and pinch your arm, but it’s well and truly out of all the love she cannot contain in her heart (which frustrates her a little bit so she will give you a sharp jab in retribution for feelings). what helps uncross the wires of megumi’s learnt behaviour (or maybe cross them idk) that ‘touch and violence and therefore bad’, is that her teasing and, honestly barely painful, ribbing is always interspersed by the softest of touches that aren’t tinged by the smell of antiseptic, blood or pity. this type of touch gets more frequent the more comfortable they get with eachother (think learning to lean on eachother post yuji death), like nobara will say ‘ew’ while forcing megumi to lay his head in her lap when they’re tryna catch their breath during training, and if his towel is nearby she’ll pat the sweat off his forehead and then complain about said sweat just because she knows he likes listening to her complain about mundane stuff; and she’ll make a million and one spiky sea urchins puns (did you know the japanese word for urchin is uni and linguistically meguni is a hilarious pun that i can see happening in canon) but is the first to rake her fingers through the mess of megumi’s hair, if she noticed he’s tried and hasn’t been taking care of himself. like yeah she throws her pens at him when he tries to help her with their maths homework, but her aim is so scary good it’s funny, and he can always throw them back and she won’t really get any more angry, and so they throw pens at eachother and laugh about it and nobara sketches random patters on to megumi’s skin with the pen she almost used to impale his eye.

anyway the point i’m getting at (probably incomprehensible into this mess of hc and meta) is: yuji and nobara come along, and suddenly, touch isn’t something that burns a little, isn’t something that spooks, isn’t something that requires the tightening of megumi’s jaw and his ribs and his spirit, and of course, sometimes it gets a little overwhelming (WHICH IS OKAY!! TOUCH AS STIMULATION IS OVERHWELMING SOMETIMES AND THATS OKAY AND VALID, EVEN IF YOURE AN AFFECTIONATE OR TOUCHY PERSON!!) and megumi needs to like take a couple of steps back. and they talk about it, because communication is key, and boundaries are healthy things to put in place, and by god the first years will try and build as safe and healthy a relationship between the three of them as they possibly can! and yeah they talk about it, and some days touch is too much for of them and that’s okay, affection, fondness, compassion can be shown in other ways, through other actions and they’ll utilise those a bit more as easily as they utilise touch a bit less, and slowly but surely, megumi becomes a lot less touch-starved and starts to seek it out on his own and initiate it in ways that are comfortable to him, like learning to braid hair so he can play with nobara’s or grabbing yuji’s hand first while their walking or just pressing his thigh into whoever he’s sitting next to in class and that’s fine and that’s good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and i’m very much attached to this idea.

bonus gojo (as per usual): when megumi became his ward, for obvious, bitter, reasons he wasn’t really tryna like touch. this kid. riling megumi up was easy enough with just words and i feel like firstly, teasing is a part of gojo’s love language in a mirror of how it’s a part of nobara’s (mmmmmmm gojo and nobara parallels are another brain worm that EATS me) and secondly, gojo goes through his own thing with touch, and like affection. as someone whose essentially raised on an absolutely, ridiculous, pedestal and then successfully surpasses even the heights of that pedestal to basically become a living legend AND the whole physical, literal thing with infinity or limitless (or whatever his cursed technique is i’m sorry i didn’t pay attention to the cursed energy explanation any of the times it came up) ANYWAY, so gojo and megumi probably both touch-starved idiots. but, like gojo does care for megumi, like as his student and as this kid he watched grow up, like ofc he does because he’s not a completely useless person. and so he definitely encourages nobara and yuji’s plan to positively reinforce touch in megumi’s brain and slowly, for fear of being straight up bitten, endeavours to extend the casual affection he easily applies to the other two, to megumi too. idrk the logistics of it, but i think it’d be cute for one day gojo putting his hand out to ruffle megumi’s hair, but like not imposing his hand, like it’s just out and about really, and usually megumi nopes or hisses or whatever other gremlin mood he’s decided to incorporate to the finite number of facial expressions he’s willing to make, but today he’s feeling charitable and lets gojo ruffle his hair, kinda like a cat ya know, like leans into it a bit in a very clear you have permission to pet!!!! and gojo’s just jojo sobbing through his blindfold like “oh my god my son loves me” and megumi is regretting not biting him.

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #itadori yuji #kugisaki nobara #gojo satoru #HMMMM I DO BE PROJECTING THOOOOOOOOO #JAJSJDJJDJDJDJD #like i do be projecting jsjdjdjdj #but yeah guys clearly i have a lot of feelings about being touchstarved and megumi #i the gang just gets really close and comfy and i also think megumi wouldn’t be a good at touch person #some of us like affection and some of us get overstimulated when people keep touching us and we deserve to be represented #lmaoooo i’m really sticking to my plan to saturate the tag huh #i’ll rb this with actual blog archive tags after #ALSO!! people write more nobara megumi friendship please #like they spent months together as the only first years #they have shared trauma from it all #let them bond #healthy f/m friendships please i’m begging you

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

Text

stop moving | d.h

you do diego’s eyeliner. 2k words.

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NOTES: gender neutral. long haired diego. i don’t know why i’m writing this and i kinda hate it lol, i rarely write this sort of thing but y’know. i’m going to check all messages, notifs & messed gems in the morning, i’m really only posting this and ghosting again, bc i know otherwise i’ll never do it. and y’know, i want to feel productive about something. take care folks <3

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP MOVING?!”

Hot breath stings your trembling fingers as Diego huffs a laugh; it’s barely a sound, a mumble of a chuckle, but you feel it vibrate through your body and hit your hand and it almost does you in. You almost just give up and confess your undying attraction, right then and there. And as though you need more contact, even more of him pressing against you, egging you closer to the precipice that will surely be your infatuated doom.

“You’re the one who asked to do this, you don’t get to complain.”

“Well, you wanted it. You agreed to this!”

“I--” another exhale against your hand, another peal of laughter following shortly. You've half a mind to clamp his mouth shut with it, if it wouldn’t ignite yet another ill-thought fantasy of yours. “This was still your idea.”

Your smile buds and blooms despite your brain begging your lips to be still. You can’t help it; he’s too good at weaseling into the cracks of your composure. One look, one soft chuckle and you’re set for life. It doesn’t help that you’re basically on his lap, cradling his face in your hands like he’s a baby, and his own fingers tap-tap-tap away on your hips, creating a rhythm no one else but you can make out. Honestly, you’re surprised you haven’t totally cracked yet, this close and this personal.

“Shut your eyes.”

“They are shut.”

“No they’re not!” you poke lightly at the fluttering lids. Your lip snags on your bottom lip; a poor attempt to hide a giggle. “I can’t do this with your eyes open.”

“D'aww…” his lids shut as he groans. “So I’m just supposed to sit here? Let you draw on my face in total darkness?”

You click your tongue, half in disapproval in his exaggeration, and half because you’ve won yet again against his stubbornness. “I won’t be long. Suck it up.”

“Sure. Y’know, I have siblings; I know how long it takes them to do makeup, and-”

“-stop moving, asshole!” Your free hand tugs ever lightly on a strand of hair, one of the many that’s slipped out of his ponytail. Repressed thoughts flash in sultry red across your thoughts and you swallow, quickly letting the hair go. “I-I need you to stay still, or this will take forever.”

Diego sighs and his grip tightens around your hips. Before you know it, he’s moving you. “Then stop wriggling,” he grumbles, flattening you against his legs. You’re basically straddling him, at that point, and your mind goes absolutely blank at how much more intimate this feels. Does he notice? Or is this just another friendly motion you’re yet again reading into?

Your mouth tastes of cotton balls and it’s dry as an Arizona summer. Still, you manage an ‘okay’ before readying your pen again. All you can hope for is a steady hand, though by the way he still holds your waist, and how your mouth lingers mere inches from his lips -- well, you’re coming undone.

It’s just eyeliner, you tell yourself. Your hand rises and swipes; black begins to pool its deep colour against his lashes, low and thin. The line builds taller, thicker as you work, extending out to the corner of his eye. As he breathes, and you try to remind yourself how to, the eyeliner pen works its shaky magic and draws the slightest tinge of a wing against his skin.

“How’s it going?”

At least he’s kind enough to mumble it, though his face still shifts under your hold. Once more your tongue clicks.

“It goes better when you don’t speak.”

He swallows his laugh; you know, because you feel his throat work as you hold his head steady. It’s strange and exhilarating, to be so close and still so far away. You want to cradle his cheeks gentler, to hold his face with the heart of a lover, but you’re terrified he’ll recognise your touch and realise your feelings. So you barely touch him and remind yourself to be professional about this.

It’s eyeliner, not a rom-com.

“I’m bored,” he whisper whines.

“Shh.”

“It’s too quiet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, patting his cheek gently. “M’working.”

“Y/N...”

You pull away and sit back on his thighs. His left eye doesn’t look half bad, but if he keeps talking… “You can’t talk, ‘else it’s gonna look bad!”

“Then you talk!”

You baulk. “What?”

“I’ll be quiet,” he swears, pouting up to you with eyes still shut, “but please, say something before I lose my mind.”

“Well, I-I-what about?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” He smiles softly. “I like hearing you talk. Don’t care what about.”

You could die right then and there. It’s a simple compliment, it’s really the bare minimum, but you’re already head over heels. And just a couple of soft spoken works are all you need to do you in and nearly keel you over, still straddling his muscular thighs.

“Uh…” you cough, forcing out the giddy tremble that threatens to take your voice. No lovesick teen voice today, thank you very much. “Okay. I don’t have much to...well, the other day, I saw my coworker totally wipe out leaving work.” You pause, expecting some reply, but he stays silent. “And he... he ate so much shit, he might as well dunked his head in a gas station toilet. And - and you know, normally I’d try to sympathise, but when you always make a point to park in my parking spot, I don’t care. Brett’s such an ass. And I don’t blame him, cause he’s got an asshole name -- Brett can’t be anything else but an asshole. So it's his parents fault probably but still, I…”

You continue on, slipping from the topic of your coworker to the free muffin you got with your coffee last week, to the prospects of buying a pet to keep your apartment less lonely, and to what probably felt like a thousand and one things ranted at him. All the while your hands continue, making neat work of a task that had just felt impossible.

And miraculously, aside from a chuckle thrown now and then, Diego stays silent. Maybe he actually means it. Maybe he does like your voice -- or he’s so bored he’s falling asleep, you don’t know. But it’s okay, you don’t let yourself linger on that, too content with taking in his relaxed features and the gentleness of the afternoon sun on the two of you.

“Aaaand….there!” With a triumphant shout, you throw the eyeliner to the side and your hands plunge towards the sky, fist-pumping like you’d just won the lottery. Your body bounces up and down on his lap like a child meeting Santa; in your excitement, you barely notice. “You’re done!”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.” You grabble for a mirror, looking away from him for a moment as you reach for the handle. Wiping it off, you’re focused solely on making sure the glass is clean enough for him to see himself in, and your brain is distracted enough to totally forget what you’ve even done, enough so when you look up, all you have is,

“Oh.”

Look, you know Diego is an attractive man. You’ve known since the day you met; he’s a beautiful guy, a handsome asshole who wormed his way into your befuddled heart before you could even learn his name. He’s pretty enough that if he wasn’t so set on his weird vigilante career, he could probably shoot for being a damn supermodel. He’s a catch! But all those years of knowing that and feeling like that could not prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Diego squints at you, cocking his head. “Is it okay?”

“I…” Delicate black lines his upper lash line, making his deep brown eyes stand out even more. He’s smiling still, full lips curving up to only make your heart pound faster. A strand of his hand falls across his face, painting the gentlest of shadows but it doesn’t bother his pretty face. “I...no, no, yea-ah…”

“Wow,” he laughs, jabbing a finger into your side. “Eloquent.”

“I-I-shut up,” you stammer. You force the mirror into his hands and look away. You’re still on his lap, still straddling his lap and the logical part of your brain begs you to get it together and fall off, already. But the stupid, foolish, absolutely idiotic part leaves you paralysed. “Just look for yourself.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for him in the silence. There’s nothing, though, for achingly painful seconds, until the mirror shifts down. “Huh.”

“Huh, good? Or bad?”

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Really? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not bad,” he assures you, his smile evident in his tone. “Just different. Don’t know how to feel about it.”

“O-oh...well, if it makes you feel better, I think it looks great.”

“You do?”

Oh, dammit. That came out with way too much enthusiasm, didn’t it? Your legs are concrete as you shift, face angled towards the floor. Hopefully he’s strong enough to push you off him when your body literally catches flame from humiliation.

“You look good man,” he mocked back to you. But he’s grinning, egging you on like a child who knows he’s got you twisted around his pinky finger. “Come on, say it like you don’t have a gun to your head!”

And maybe you do, maybe you’re holding the revolver to your temple, just asking to get screwed if you dare speak beyond the most stilted compliment you’ve ever extended to someone. He’s a friend, you remind yourself; friends are allowed to compliment the other. They’re allowed to say they look good and not make it a thing, even if they wish it was a thing, and--

“--hey? You in there?”

“Sorry,” you say to the floor. You swear a thousand curses before looking back to Diego. And, yeah -- he still looks impossibly good. The ageing afternoon sun falls just perfectly against his skin, flushing him into the being of a god, standing in your apartment while you, a mere mortal, remains stuck to his thick thighs.

You gulp in air desperately, trying to catch your gaze on something, anything else -- but nothing sticks. He’s still there, inches from you, desperately aching for you to stare at.

“No, uh, yeah. You look - you look hot.”

Wait.

That wasn’t--

“-I look hot?”

That isn’t what you were supposed to say.

“I,” you have literally nothing to save yourself. This is the end! You’re young Leo and Rose is shoving you off the door and into the icy waters, and you’ve just got one last look at pretty Diego to satiate the freezing burn before you succumb to it. “I...wasn’t...that wasn’t what I meant.”

He has no right to look so smug. But he does it anyway. He leans away from your hands as they flutter through the air on their own accord, looking at you through half-lidded pools of caramel. “You don’t think I look hot?”

“Don’t,” you warn, with little strength behind it. “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m just asking.”

He leans back in. You’re almost touching again.

Is this weird? This is definitely weird.

You swallow back the lump in your throat and stare back at him. This all feels like fifth grade all over again -- awkward, sticky and like every move is the wrong move. But you can’t stop yourself from playing into his hands, because that sly, shameful part of you wants this more than will ever be admitted. You want him to look at you like this, like you could hang the stars if he asked you to...and you want him to pull you closer, as he does, and mean it.

Could he?

“Would you hate me? If I thought you looked hot?”

Diego head cocks to the side as he seemingly contemplates your words. A nudge meets your side; you look down to see his hands once again reaching for you. Though it's on their own accord this time, gently landing on your left hip, then the right. You shiver.

“That depends,” he says slowly. His eyes narrow, black wings just barely crinkling in. “D’you mean it like, ‘oH, that’s so-oo hot, woW-’”

Your laugh is hardly a whisper. It cracks even before your lips. “Come on.”

“Or, do you…” his fingers dig in a little more. They nudge at the fabric of your top, daring it to move enough so they could cradle the flesh hidden underneath. “You mean it the other way?”

Heart in throat, all the courage you can possibly muster with it, you mutter, “the...other way, probably.” Then a second later, “is that okay?”

“Mm…” His fingers finally reach your skin. You shiver under his touch, warm and unflinching as they brush against the soft curves. Diego’s face comes towards your own and you force yourself not to move. But he doesn’t stop, instead he goes past you, brushing his plush lips against your earlobe. “I would say...that if all this took was making you do my eyeliner, I shoulda asked years ago.”

“I, okay...don’t play with me, here--”

“--I’m serious,” he protests lowly. His lips leave your ear but they don’t run far. Instead, you find them a brush away from your own, just as you were minutes before. Only this time, you don’t try to clamp your mouth shut and skirt away from the touch. You nudge your nose against his own, exhaling softly as more skin meets the heat of his own. “You think I just let anyone sit on my lap like this, without thinkin’ it could be more?”

You shrug like this is normal. Like you’re perfectly at peace with the universe and the way you’re wondering how his tongue would taste, pushing back against your own. “I mean...do you?”

“No,” he chuckles low. “No, I’m...not into friendly lap dances, actually.”

“O-oh. Mm.”

He pulls you closer. He wants you closer.

“Diego…” You’re unravelling. You’re fucking unravelling, unnerved by his voice and his hands and you’re putty in them, all inhibitions sliding away like you’re three drinks in. His hands by your sides leave their marks against your skin; you can feel the pads of his fingers, burning into your skin like they were molten iron and not just mere brushes. “I...”

“Tell me.” He sounds cocky. He has a right to be, even if you’re damned to admit it. “Tell me what you think.”

Your hands shiver up his forearms, clinging to his bare shoulders as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your mind’s going a mile a minute and you refuse to listen to a single thought. You’re only feeling him.

“Y/N…”

“Fine,” you huff, with a smile. Your noses brush again; your eyes flutter shut with his image imprinted against their lids. “I think you look...hot as hell, Diego.”

“Yeah.” He’s grinning; you can hear it in his voice, that smirk that makes your gut flip like a damn rollercoaster ride. “S’what I thought, baby.”

And then he kisses you.

A/N: i normally hate writing oblivious characters but this wasn’t even intentional really. every time i try to write something remotely sexual i just lead the reader into ‘oH tHiS iS jUsT wHaT fRiEnDs Do’ and ‘iT’S wEiRd rIgHt’. to my defense...i doubt you’re on this page reading this expecting good sexual tension. i’m not the tua writer for that; let me know if you want recommendations for that because trust me, there are better authors for that. for now, you get this. <3

#diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves #hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #my writing #this is so random #I just saw a fanart of completely different ppl doing eyeliner and i thought #why not put diego in eyeliner he deserves it

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chrichri-chan-18-love · 3 years

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Monsters are real (Yandere Hawks x Reader) Part 10

The days that followed were of great importance both to you and Hawks. You were almost done reorganizing your wedding while Hawks was trying his best to get on your mother’s good side. But, given that your mother was far more aggressive than you, his confidence was slowly dropping.

He eventually decided to make things difficult for you, by leading an actual villain to Akira’s working area, all under the guise of chasing down the guy. It was during that fight that Akira’s leg was broken and had a small head injury, thankfully for you, nothing too serious.

That ultimately backfired for Hawks as now, not only were you spending more time with your soon to be husband, you were putting the blame on him. And needless to say, Hawks was reaching his limit.

“How can that guy be so lucky?! Why does he get everything?! ” He growled as he stared at the two of you, you were feeding your injured lover, you were feeding Akira food that you had COOKED for HIM. Hawks wanted to tear the two of you apart, eat the food on the plate and compliment your cooking, regardless of wether it was good or bad.

His jealousy however made him blind and filled with anger when he saw you put the plate near a small coffee table and lean forward, kissing Akira and smilling lovingly at him.

That expression was killing Hawks, he would do anything, to get you to smile at him like that, to have your lips on his as you took the initiative and showed your affection. His anger was so strong that tears actually rolled down his cheek as he flew away, unable to stand it anymore.

The next day when you went to work, you couldn’t help but notice Hawk’s grim expression and the moody aura surrounding him. Normally you wouldn’t give a damn about it but he wasn’t working either and that only meant trouble for you.

“Will you stop being this pathetic and DO something? Otherwise you might as well fly around the town searching for worms to eat.”

“Hawks are birds of prey, they don’t eat worms.” He said, in a bored manner. You glared at him and hissed.

“Then start acting like one, right now I see the lamest, most pathetic excuse of a man, pretending to be a docile, harmless canary when in fact, he’s more annoying than those fake cuckoo birds inside those ridiculous clocks.”

Hawks gave you a weak glare, his mind wondering if that was supposed to make him better. Because it wasn’t working, at all.

“Can you just leave me alone? It’s not like you like me or anything.”

Your left eye twitched and you decided that you had enough, using your first quirk to take control over his body, you made him stand up and walk outside the office, with you right behind him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Hawks asked furious but one sharp glare from you made him shut up. You took him to a nearby coffee shop and forced him to sit down as you ordered something.

Hawks was speechless, was this a date? W-Were you taking him out on a date?! His mood changed immediately at the idea, sure it wasn’t likely that you were really doing that but he wanted to believe it was something like that.

“Now start talking bird brain. Why are you determined to be even more useless today, of all days.” You said and Hawks became confused.

“What’s today?”

“My birthday.”

Hawks eyes widen at that and he immediately felt guilt over his behavior to your... weird way of showing concern. Still, given that you could have ignored him until it was time for you to leave, this little worry that you showed should have been appreciated.

“Oh, sorry! Happy birthday. I promise to buy you a gift, even it might be a bit late.”

“I don’t give a damn about gifts, now start talking.”

“It’s.... I guess you can say, it’s because my efforts to befriend you are fruitless. I... I just don’t see you as a monster anymore. Sure, you can be scary, cruel and savage but... well, I know that there is a much gentler side to you...that there are two sides on the coin.”

“And by that you mean, you want me to give up on Akira, to date you. Considering all the effort you placed in ruining my wedding.”

Hawks stared at you shocked, cold sweat running his spine as he was fearing the worst.

“What?”

“Did you seriously think, I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t look into the sudden problems that appeared just as you began your little quest to befriend me?”

“(Name) I-”

“Or perhaps should I mention that you attacked Akira to delay the wedding futher?”

“(Name),please. Let me explain, baby bird.”

You smirked at that, as your ordered arrived you thanked the waitress and then leaned back, staring at Hawks with an amused expression.”

“Very well, let’s listen to your explaination, Takami Keigo.”

At the mention of his real name, he knew that he had lost both the fight and the war. But... maybe, now he could finally express every single feeling he had for you.

Now, it was time for the truth to come out.

#yandere #takami keigo #yandere hawks #mean reader #Female reader #quirk triple combo #jealousy #jealous hawks #possessive yandere #possessive hawks #depressed yandere #bnha #fanfic

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sadsappylee · 4 years

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Inexplicable

Spencer Reid x Reader

This is a ticket fic, if you don't wanna read that scroll my dude.

Every now and then, you would get into these warm, sunny moods for no apparent reason, and Spencer couldn't figure it out.

Derek would always joke that you must've gotten laid, but as a profiler he knew how to read you well enough to know it wasn't that. He couldn't tell what it was, and that was what annoyed him.

Today was a day like that, your unusually bright disposition had been going strong for a day or two before and today was no exception. He was quite frustrated actually, angry at himself for not being able to figure out what caused these periods of peculiar behavior.

He definitely wasn't complaining, he thought that you were rather adorable when you got like that, you would smile and laugh more, joke around with Morgan, and make nerdy references with Penelope and himself. You were often times the ray of sunshine that kept the team going during hard cases, and that was especially true when you had those periods of unexplainable potential energy. You had an arsenal of unbelievably warm oversized sweaters that you seemed to reserve for specifically times like this, which he thought suited you quite well.

There were downsides, of course. You seemed so tired, what he thought was a product if not being able to sleep due to heightened energy levels. You also seemed more distant, and (though the logical side of him knew this couldn't be caused by a simple mood) he couldn't shake the feeling that even your physical body was practically freezing cold. On top of that, you seemed to recede into your head more often.

He knew from experience that that was never a good thing.

This was what you had learned was called a 'lee mood'.

You had a pretty embarrassing secret- you really liked being tickled. Maybe it was because you liked the feeling of being able to trust someone enough to be completely vulnerable and helpless with them, or because you liked having an excuse to be carefree and laugh. It gave you a chance to just let go and be happy. You liked laughing, and you guessed that that just carried into the rest of your life that way.

You had these periods of time since as long as you could remember, but you had only just stumbled across the term a few weeks past after falling down a tumblr rabbit hole late at night. See, you and Spencer were alike in many ways, but one especially stood out- your pension for research in the face of confusion.

So, being the research prone person you were, that was what you did. The amount of firewalls and incognito tabs you put up to make sure no one ever saw said research was almost ridiculous, but you needed to find out why you were the way you were, or if other people were like this too. (Basically, what the literal hell was wrong with you)

That was the answer that you got, and apparently the answer was yes, other people were like you. That was how you found out that not only were these phases normal (for some people), but they had a name. It was still embarrassing, but at least you knew you weren't alone.

There were downsides to this too, of course. It wasn't all sunshine and giggly happy rainbow dreams or whatever.

It was being even further touch starved than you were usually, to the point that you thought you might genuinely cry if someone hugged you for too long. It was being almost constantly tired but unable to sleep, and it was having reason whatsoever for feeling that way. It was yearning to feel close to anyone, emotional or physical.

Still, you didn't exactly have an outlet for these moods, so they basically just came and went as they pleased, and for now, the mood seemed impossible to shake.

It had been going pretty strong for the duration of your case, and the case was finally over. It was hour (2? 3?) Of the flight back home, and everyone in the plane was asleep, bar you and Reid, whose nose was in a book while you listened to music.

You couldn't help but watch him while you listened, he was a fascinating person to look at, (and you had a bit of a crush on him) but he was especially fascinating while he was reading. He was a speed reader, but he always looked so concentrated and entertained. He was almost as enamored with reading as you were with him, and you couldn't help but watch him. It seemed almost....intimate.

He glanced up at you for a moment. Just a moment, and you knew he had caught you staring, knew he saw you. But you couldn't drag your eyes from his, so instead, you just kept looking.

The moment ended, and he looked up, not at you, not at his book, just vaguely forwards as if he was considering something. Whatever it was, it seemed he decided on it rather quickly, looking back down and dog-earing the page of his book before folding it gently closed and setting it down.

He stood up from his seat and walked swiftly towards you, he didn't speak , just looked your way with a slight smile, before dropping down into the seat right next to you. Once situated, he began to speak.

"You know, I've been trying to figure you out for the longest time," he started, observing you as he spoke. "Half the time you're a cold, calculating realist, leaning on the cynic side, and yet the other half, you're like this," he gestured vaguely with his hand.

"Well, I'm sorry I've been troubling you," you joked, a brow raised in his direction.

He rolled his eyes, falling silent for a bit. The tentativeness he usually held resurfaced when he looked around, scratching the back of his neck.

"You don't- I know I've known you for a while, and you seem alright with physical contact, but you don't, uhm, you don't have any problems with contact, right?"

You almost had to laugh. If only he knew, with how touch-starved you were? It might be impossible for you to have a problem with physical contact.

Then again, your mind wandered.

Mainly, to why Spencer was asking you that. Heat rushed through your cheeks as you considered all the possibilities of what he could've meant by that.

"I- well no, Spence, I don't," you cleared your throat. "I don't have problems with that, why?"

"Oh good," he spoke, ignoring your question as his confidence quickly returned.

Without any more warning, he reached out and tazed you in the side with his fingers, smiling slightly as you squealed, edging away from his hand.

"Spencer! What was that for?" You chastised, more than a little flustered, sure that your could feel the blush rise in your cheeks.

"I'm just...." He trailed off as if looking for the right words, a confused look (that you would never admit to thinking was adorable) for a mere moment before his head seemed to clear. "Let's call it testing a theory."

With that his hands latched to your sides, digging into the skin there and smiling as it pulled sweet laughter from you.

"See, I think that this is what you've wanted all along. Your moods, I haven't been able to figure them out, so I kept searching. I was worried about you. I thought maybe they were manic states, but you don't have any of the other traits of bipolar disorder. Then I thought maybe something good just happened to put you in a good mood, but nothing new had happened during those times either."

"ihihihi- ihihi hahahahave noho ihidehehehea whahat youhohohoure tahahalking ahabout!" You denied, attempting to stifle your laughter and batting his hands weakly away (though you didn't really want him to stop).

"So," he continued, rolling his eyes at your denial, "I started searching symptoms; often tired but rarely sleeping, brighter moods, hightened levels of elation, loosely bounded sense of humor. Now, I didn't find anything official, per sé, but I did find a quite interesting little section of the internet that offered up a pretty simple explanation," he smiled gently, continuing that sweet form of torture, and all you could do was laugh, clutching against his shirt. You chose to bury your head in his chest and save yourself from the embarassment of your reactions to his words.

"Did you know, it actually makes sense- laughter and physical contact are the biggest suppliers of the chemical dopamine," he explained, as if he wasnt currently tickling you to pieces. "When someone is touch-starved, they lack most of the dopamine that comes from physical contact, so the brain decides that the best way to replace that missing dopamine has to be some sort of human contact that results in laughter. Ergo- tickling." You just tucked your head further into his chest, attempting to muffle your laughter in his shirt and hide your steadily reddening face.

"Spehe-spehehehenceheher!" You giggled, unsure what to say and settling on his name. You knew there wasnt much of a point trying to hide that you obviously enjoyed this from Spencer so you just sat there and took it, hiding in his shirt, though you knew that by your red ears he could tell your face was flushed.

"Yeah (y/n)?" He asked far too casually, always attentive to what you had to say, while still continuing to tickle you senseless, scratching your sides, hands worming their way under the fabric of your sweater.

"Ihihi dohohohont- ihit tihihihihicklehehes!" You whined, aware that you weren't technically complaining or asking him to stop, also aware that Spencer knew that perfectly well too.

"I know," he tsked, feigning sympathy but continuing his actions, with a smirk that you could almost SENSE on his face. Admittedly, this interaction wasn't just for your sake, he was certain that hearing your laughter and seeing you lose your typically well-maintained composure like that was bringing him quite a bit of dopamine as well.

So, instead of trying to think of something else to say, you just clutched at his shirt to stop yourself from pushing him away, trying to keep your laughter in check so as to not wake up the rest of the team as you just let yourself feel the tickly sensations flooding through your nervous system. You practically melted when he moved one of his hands to spider up and down your back, falling into snorting giggles. The other moved to flutter behind your ears, and you sighed through your giggles. Your back and ears had always been some of your worst spots, but at the same time it was incredibly soothing, the kind of thing that could put you to sleep, and the conflicting feelings absolutely maddening.

"Oh, did I find good spots?" He cooed, noticing how you went limp in his arms, aside from the occasional squirm when he brushed against a bad spot.

Your skin tinged a further red, (if that was possible) at the teasing. "...Maha*hic*haybehehehe.." you squeaked, again realizing that there wasn't a point to trying to lie to Spencer.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He stopped for a moment to give you a break and you sat up to try and catch your breath.

"For now, i think that if we really wanna fix this mood of yours we should pull out the big guns," he teased pausing to make sure you were still doing alright before moving his one of his hands to flutter at your neck, while the other dropped to your knee and began squeezing, laughing along with you when you squealed and shot your hands up to cover your mouth and try to muffle your laughter, which had gone up significantly in volume.

He moved his hands so quickly, between squeezing at your knees, drilling his thumbs into your hips, clawing at your stomach, running his hands up and down your sides, and fluttering at your neck and ears, it felt like his fingers were everywhere at once, and you were barely holding it together. You moved to bite down on your sweater sleeve to muddle your desperate laughter, losing all coordination and thrashing as his hands continued their onslaught against your senses.

He grinned at your (franky rather adorable) reaction, laughing along quietly with you, finding it precious how you tried to hide what was clearly hysterical laughter. In reality, behind the muffling of your laughter, you felt that you were losing your mind at the sensations coursing through your veins. Still, you wouldn't have it any other way, pure glee shining through your eyes.

Just that look was worth doing the a million times over, and it was then that Spencer realized he needed/enjoyed this just as much if not more than you.

When your laughter started growing hoarse he slowly backed off, bursting into quiet laughter at the adorable, almost dissapointed puppy-dog look on your face when he stopped.

You sucked in air like you had never tasted it before, a few stray giggles slipping out to disrupt the silence. Spencer had stopped, but you could swear you still feel the ghosts of his hands against your skin, the tingling feeling still refusing to leave your body, leaving you flustered and giggly.

But you were happy.

Elated, actually. What he said about the endorphins produced from what had just transpired must've been true, because you felt almost lightheaded, warm and pleasantly tired and unable to stop smiling.

You were still on his shoulder, practically laying on him, though he had long since stopped.

Neither of you minded

You hadn't really been able to be this kind of tired in a long, long time. You felt like you could fall asleep right there and then. You'd forgotten how nice it was.

"...thank you."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you shifted your eyes down, flushing bright red in embarassment after realizing what you had just said.

For a moment, Spencer studied you. Leaning against him, head against his shoulder, cuddling into his side.

You looked tiny.

It was the first time he'd ever really realized how strikingly small you were. In the field you were tough. You seemed so much more formidable than the fragile looking person curled into his side.

Your sweater sleeves were down way past your hands with one sleeve slipping off your shoulder and your undershirt untucked and rumpled. Your flushed complection, eyes closed, the hair sweat-stuck to your forehead, out of breath and panting slightly. You looked like you had just walked through a hurricane, the only indication of what REALLY happened being the soft smile plastered to your face, and the occasional quiet giggle slipping in between your breathing.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

"Any time," he spoke softly.

He looked down at you, and he could swear his heart melted. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and you'd never looked more peaceful.

He could get used to life being like this.

#fanfic #tickle community #tickle fic #ticklish reader #ticklish!reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #cm

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hollyhomburg · 4 years

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omG i adore all the packtan verses soso much, the latest yoongi fluff u posted?? AGH so SOFT i loved it sm!! would the reader ever talk to the boys about her old pack, and like why thats the reason shes wary about being super close with packtan?

i think she would eventually- and I think there would be a moment, maybe some soft snuggles happening in the morning, and namjoon is kinda super soft thinking about how you’re in Hoseok’s pajamas- the dark silk fabric making you have sweater paws. all ruffled from some sleep- and he doesn't know how they got on the topic but now you’re confiding in him and hobi and suddenly namjoon is fucking enraged as you tell him how they treated you.

they best hope they never cross namjoon’s path, namjoon will end them. Hoseok too, (Hoseok might find out their names and draft several very strong kakao talk messages only to delete them before he sends them- just so they know- if they ever even think about coming near you again- hoseok is going to end them and their careers)

emotional abuse can be just as pervasive and as harmful as physical abuse, how they slowly wormed their way into your mind. now it all makes sense- the way that you’d kinda acted like you didn’t care about them- leaving and walking home late at night- putting yourself at risk. never telling them you were having a rough day until you practically burst into tears, the way you’d been genuinely surprised when any of them expressed wanting to spend time with you, wanting to spoil you, any time they’d complimented you and you’d kinda acted like they were joking.

there are signs of it- and the others- yoongi and Hoseok, in particular, are the most vigilant and aware- especially when your actions hurt the others- it’s honestly not your fault. They all realize this after you leave early one morning- without saying bye, and then the aftermath- Seokjin crossing his arms, “you didn't even think to wake us? or have us drive you home? the subway isn’t exactly safe at 5am- I just- can't imagine why you didn’t stay- or shower in our shower- or borrow our clothes” jin continues his tirade until you lookup

“I didn’t think you wanted me to” you say, voice small, “what? what made you think that” “you’ve just- never said you wanted me to stay before, we fell asleep on the couch- and then I woke up in your bed and I didn’t want to- overstep. you guys are already in a pack and I’m just- I’m just me- I’m sorry I just- I didn’t know, so I figured it was just better if I didn’t overstep” and then their eventual realization all of them tripping over themselves to reassure you “we always want you to stay babe- of course, we did- why else would we invite you so late at night if we didn’t want you to stay over?”

The hear more, about booty calls from your old pack and others, how they’d make it clear they didn’t want you to stay after- sure everyone likes an omega before the sex but not after when they get needy (after they hear you spew that vitriol at yourself they make sure they’re always giving with physical affection- and they see you slowly turn from being worried and kinda trepidatious about it- to sinking into their arms fully and becoming the most cuddly omega of them all- sometimes not even greeting them before you’re sinking into their arms and scent marking along their shoulders)

they get better- get used to telling you explicitly when they want you to stay, trying to work around the way your brain works.

jimin remembers vividly- the first day he’d realized how much damage your old pack had done to the way you’d seen yourself. the day he’d taken a selfie with you in a coffee shop, and you’d kinda rolled your eyes, whining that you didn’t like photos to be taken of you, and then jimin sending it to you before he sends it to the group, you freezing when the notification comes through, the way you’d looked so unsure, “Jiminie...do I really look like that?” jimin is already sending the picture through the pack group chat and getting about a million heart emojis from Hoseok through, tea sends though “oh my god- get in my bed right this instant”

“what do you mean baby?” and when he looks up, he sees you staring at your phone- at the picture, a weird look on your face, like there's something not real about what you’re seeing, “do I really look like that? do I look pretty like this?” this isn’t you phishing for complements this is you genuinely looking for his reassurance- and Jimin nods cutely his hand closing around yours on your phone to tilt it towards himself so he can point out the things about you he loves- your shoulders are really nice and not to broad for an omega, your hair fits your face perfectly and your cheeks are cute, jimin loves them, tilts your chin close with one hand to kiss them until you're giggling.

later jimin tells Tae and Jungkook while they’re washing up, “you should have seen the look on her face today- it was like she’d thought I photoshopped the photo” “do you think” Tae spits out his toothpaste “she might have body dysmorphia or something?” Jimin shrugs, Jungkook wraps his arms around Tae’s middle, nuzzling in slow to his back, “finish up- we should talk in the nest”

and then later- with Jimin and Tae's heads balanced on either of Jungkook’s pectorals “do you think it could have something to do with her old pack?” jimin feels anger take hold in his chest, a growing hiss in his throat, his words come out strange and pitched, “if i ever get my hands on them i swear i’ll tear them apart”

#packtan #idolverse #bts abo #bts omegaverse #Anonymous

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thegrxywitch · 4 years

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Obliviate, Dramione

A/N: Thoughts are italicized

This is really angsty sorry not sorry

Hermione's thoughts/PoV

Me and draco malfoy have always been enemies he bullies me for my friends, brains and blood status. Something has to be wrong with me, today at breakfast my eyes kept wandering towards his face I couldn't concentrate at all or eat much. Ginny shot me a worried glance over the toast and eggs. I could never explain to any of them why I was so confused.

Third person PoV

Hermione Granger was late to class. She was barreling down the halls towards class, her reputation on the line. Her feet slapped against the floor of the cold stone hallways, her bushy hair was flying in all directions. Worry flooded her mind, being late to transfiguration was a big no-no. She was also mentally slapping herself for obsessing over Draco Malfoy. She had come to have some kind of internalised desire for the scheming slytherin and she detested herself for it. Draco had wormed himself into her mind so deep she could never seem to escape every word someone said seemed to remind her of him.

Harry potter was also obsessing over Draco Malfoy but in a slightly different way. He was convinced Draco had become a death eater and was plotting to bring down hogwarts. Because of Harry monitoring Draco's behaviour Hermione had become hyper-aware of him. She was worried for the boy, he was barely eating and looked as if he hadn't slept in days.

Hermione's PoV

I urged myself to run faster past the closed classroom doors. The portraits practically whizzed past as my feets slapped the stone. I rounded the corner and fell heavily to the ground on top of someone. Gosh they smell nice... snap out of it... just chill . The person I fell on groaned, I turned myself slightly and found myself staring into cool grey eyes. I started as a wave of realisation hit me I had fallen on top of Draco Malfoy.

"Get off" He grizzled. I slid myself sideways off him disentangling my legs from his and trying to right my skirt without flashing him. Draco pulled himself up to sitting position and stared at me. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck my face was softly growing hotter. His eyes seemed to flitter between my eyes and my lips. We were sitting as close as possible it seemed I could feel his warm breath on my neck it sent shivers down my spine.

"Granger" he muttered I just stared into his eyes as if daring him to break contact. Draco fiddled with his robes "Sorry" he whispered. Something pushed at me deep inside my mind daring me to remember.

Draco's PoV

I was using all the self control I had to stop myself from kissing her then and there. Everytime we had spent together lingered in my memory daring me to make a move. But I had done it for a reason, She would die if he found out. Her scent was intoxicating and it forced me to remember every kiss between lessons in the abandoned classroom, every late night stroll, the time she confessed she loved me on the astronomy tower. But I wouldn't and couldn't cry. She looked at me kindly and innocently through her lashes remembering nothing. A few weeks ago she had woken up in my dorm, tangled up with me much like she had been a few seconds ago but she had no idea. For some reason I still carried hope I prayed the spell hadn't worked even though that could mean death, death in that moment was better than her oblivious to the love we once had.

Third person PoV

They sat in the cold hallway staring at each other red-faced and bright eyed. Hermione had no idea what had gotten into Draco she was puzzled yet enthralled, he was suddenly being kind treating her as is she was made of glass. Draco was near tears with a million thoughts and wishes flashing through his mind. Hermione had thoughts of Draco too but of what could possibly happen although she knew nothing in that moment she felt a strong sense of familiarity and longing. She needed him her urge to pull him into her arms for no apparent reason was strong but not strong enough.

Draco looked at her and pulled her close to him wrapping his arms around her he muttered softly into her neck.

"I had to Hermione, I wish.. but it was necessary. You won't ever know what I mean, just know I will think of you everyday of my life." Draco then took a deep breath dropped her like last weeks castoffs. Hermione's brain was in overdrive what the hell did malfoy mean? Something deep inside her below consciousness knew. A million thoughts, dreams, hopes, memories and moments went unsaid. Draco's soulmate then stood and gathered her books a small part of her flustered the rest was worried about being late.

#dramione #hp #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter series #ship #hogwarts #fanfic #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter fanfic rec #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione

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deliasbabe · 4 years

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Because I Could Never Hold a Perfect Thing & Not Demolish It- Venable x Reader

A fight at your apartment forces Venable to reveal her true feelings about you, whether she wants to or not. Based on the song “Forever...(is a long time) by Halsey.

Words: 3,676

Warnings: Strong Language, Implied Sexual Content

When you heard a knock on the door one early Sunday morning, you almost didn’t answer. You weren’t expecting anyone, and considering you were only wearing an oversized white t-shirt, you weren’t exactly dressed for company. But something told you that you knew who was on the other side of that door. After all, you had turned down Venable’s request for your presence at her house Friday night, and ignored her numerous phone calls the next day. It wasn’t like it was unwarranted, she had spent the majority of the work day berating you, even going so far as to call you “daft” and “a waste of space”. What you two had wasn’t exactly serious, but it wasn’t casual either, and you had spent many nights trying to figure out exactly what this was. It wasn’t unlike your lover to borderline abuse her staff, but up until that point, you had been the exception, mostly because she knew there was no way in hell you would stand for it. At least, you thought she knew that, but her actions that day very much said otherwise.

It wasn’t like you didn’t expect her to show up. You had learned very quickly that a request from Wilhelmina wasn’t actually a request, more like a not-so-polite demand, and you refused her, of course she would show up to set you straight. But avoiding your boss had given you a strength you didn’t know you needed, the upper hand in a situation where it seemed like saying yes was the only acceptable option. You could face her, tell her off, and send her on her way. You could do this, and with a gust of courage, you opened the door.

Venable, as cold as ever, didn’t even bother with a proper greeting before she stepped into your apartment, her heels clicking along the wooden floor as she took a regal stance in your kitchen, like she had the right to do with your home as she saw fit, and you rolled your eyes as you shut the door. She always was far too arrogant, but you did have to admire her confidence. Still, her impoliteness didn’t make you falter, if anything it fueled you.

There was an eerie silence as you walked toward her, firmly planting your feet in front of your counter. This was your home after all, she wasn’t going to get the high ground. She flicked her steely gaze over you briefly, before deciding she couldn’t even be bothered to look at you, her face impassive as she set her sights just over your shoulder, as if you were beneath her. “You haven’t been returning my calls.” She stated flatly, like you were total strangers, like you hadn’t spent countless nights in her bed, in her home.

“I know.” You responded coldly, her eyes quickly darting to you and boring into your brain, outraged that you would dare challenge her.

“Care to tell me the reason?” Venable spit out between gritted teeth, and you wondered how she was able to look so angry yet keep her tone so emotionless, a black void threatening to swallow you whole. You had played her games long enough to know she was waiting for you to buckle, but you wouldn’t, not today, and you clenched your jaw as your stared her down, openly defying her seemingly endless willpower.

“I really don’t think I should have to explain it to you.” You spit in the most condescending tone you could muster. You wouldn’t fall, not today, not ever again.

Her face was hard as stone, a concrete wall, but you could see in her eyes that she faltered, just a bit, and it gave you a sick sense of victory. “Y/n,” Venable bit, “Let’s not be childish.”

“This isn’t me being childish. This is me being pissed off.” You fired back, silently cursing yourself for letting your cool demeanor slip. You were supposed to be short, calculated, cruel, just like her. But you weren’t like her, not one bit. Still, this seemed to grab her attention, and she raised her eyebrows, silently demanding an explanation, like she didn’t have the slightest idea as to why you were upset. You shook your head dismissively, “You know what? Whatever this is that we’re doing? It’s done. I’ll hand in my resignation tomorrow.”

There it was, that sickening smirk your lover always gave when she got a rise out of someone, almost as if hurting you was a victory in itself, “Don’t you think you’re being a little rash?”

You scoffed, “No. Believe me, this is a long time coming.”

Your boss took a moment to right herself, like she was talking to a petulant child, “I don’t accept your resignation. You are a valuable assistant.”

“I thought I was daft and a waste of space?” You bit, watching her physically recoil, but only slightly, “And you really don’t get to call the shots on this one.”

Venable gave a condescending laugh as she leaned forward on her cane, “You can’t expect me to give you special treatment.”

“I’m not asking for special treatment, Wilhelmina. I’m just asking to be treated like a human being.” You vented, hoping just once, just this once, that she would see her horrendous ways, that she would see reason.

But still, your attempt was futile, you could see it in her face, “I treat you the same way I treat any other employee.”

“And you don’t think there’s something wrong with that?” You bit, beyond frustrated, “You can’t expect me to be treated like shit and then hop in your bed at your beck and call.”

Venable let out an amused, breathy laugh, “You think I’m using you for sex?”

You dropped your shoulders, utterly defeated. It just wasn’t worth it, and you hated yourself for thinking it would be any different. She was stubborn, an impenetrable force. You couldn’t change that. Still, you mustered up the strength to finish, “I don’t know what you are doing, but I’m not doing it anymore. If I wanted a hookup I wouldn’t do it with someone I work with, and certainly not someone who doesn’t appreciate me in the slightest.”

Again, she smirked, “You think I don’t appreciate you?” Just like that, you were done, rolling your eyes and moving towards the door, only for your soon-to-be ex to bang her cane on the floor, “Y/n! Talk to me.”

You whipped around and stomped back to your previous position, utterly pissed off. “Why should I?” You yelled, suddenly not caring about how emotional you seemed, “You never talk to me! You say we’re exclusive, but you won’t tell anyone about us! All we ever do is fuck and I’m sick of everything being on your terms! I’m not spending the next few years being in a one-sided relationship! I’m done trying to earn your approval. I’m just…done.” You broke your gaze, feeling completely drained, like all your life force was just sucked out of you. You didn’t have it in you to fight for her, to make her see you. You just couldn’t do it anymore.

“What makes you think you haven’t already gotten my approval?” Venable asked, calm as ever, acting as if you didn’t just emotionally implode all over her expensive purple suit.

You let out a scoff, not even bothering to look her in the eye, ��Because no one will ever be good enough for you, and certainly not me.”

You didn’t look at her, waiting for whatever insult she had decided to throw your way, but all you heard was silence. You weren’t used to silence, not from her, and you glanced up to make sure she actually heard you, only to see tears in your lover’s eyes, and your heart dropped. Your boss was always stoic, so much so that you wondered if she was psychopathic. She always was this force, and you sure as shit had never seen her even come close to shedding a tear, and it took the fight right out of you, your stomach twisting into knots.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Venable said, shifting her gaze to the floor and praying you didn’t hear her voice waiver, but you did, and suddenly you weren’t sure exactly who you were dealing with.

You softened, but only slightly, “I don’t know what to think, Mina. I’ve tried, but I can’t figure you out. It’s like you are a completely different person with me than you are at work, and they don’t line up.” You waited for her to speak, but she didn’t, so you continued, “I get that you can’t be the same at work with me because you, for whatever reason, don’t want anyone to know about us. You’re ashamed or… whatever, and I get it, I do. But this game we’re playing? I just can’t play it anymore.”

That got the woman’s attention, and you quickly glanced away from her. As she started to move toward you, you ducked your head in response, preparing for her to be angry with you, but she gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into her soft brown eyes. “I’m not ashamed of you, little one.” Mina said carefully, “Not one bit, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m proud of you, so, so proud.” You looked utterly confused, and it pained the woman, because she knew it was all her doing. Hearing her praise is the very last thing you expected, and she hated herself for doing this to you.

Wilhelmina Venable had never been very good at expressing her feelings. She hated feeling vulnerable, but somehow you managed to slip past her iron gates, worming your way into her heart and cracking her wide open. She had never been in love before, truthfully she thought it didn’t actually exist, but there you were, and suddenly her world started spinning a little faster, too fast for her to keep up, to stay ahead, and that scared her. So, she did what she did best, she shut down, and she pushed. She pushed and pushed until she broke you, and she understood why you wanted to leave, but she couldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to put you back together again.

Still, this was uncomfortable for her, uncharted territory, and she hesitantly took a step back, “The reason I…” She began calmly, before you watched her face contort as she choked on her words, not even able to repeat the atrocities she had carelessly fired your way previously. The woman cleared her throat awkwardly, ducking her head, “Jeff and Mutt, they noticed that I wasn’t as harsh with you as I was with the others. They suspected I was interested in you, romantically interested.”

You sat silent for a moment, analyzing her words as you leaned back on the counter, raising your leg and bracing your foot on the cupboards as you crossed your arms. The gesture was innocent, but it was enough to make the woman’s head spin, desperately trying to not give into her own selfish desires and averting her focus from how good you looked. “And you aren’t?” You asked, slightly defensive, reading between the lines and coming to the conclusion that she really was just in this to fuck.

Venable tried to focus, tried to formulate an answer that didn’t include how delicious your exposed thigh looked, but she couldn’t, and she bit her lip. You took her silence as a yes, after all, what else could it mean? “Ok.” You said with a sadistic laugh, moving to show the woman out, “I guess it’s settled then.”

“Y/n, wait!” Venable yelled, lurching toward you and throwing herself off balance, barely catching herself on your arm. The shock was clear on your features, and before she could get too much inside her head about it, she blurted, “I am interested.” Your gaze was unwavering, unnerving, so she hesitantly continued, “Very Interested. I just… I didn’t want them to know.”

You stare at her for a few moments, desperately wishing you could fish inside her brain and find some sort of clarity. She looked so scared, her hand grasping yours tightly, but you weren’t sure if it was because she almost fell or something more, “Would it be such a bad thing if they knew?”

Venable shook her head, but her words didn’t match. “Yes…no… I don’t know.” She fumbled, “I’m not very good at this.”

You furrowed your brow, “Good at what?”

You had never seen your ever-confident boss so unsure of herself, “Talking about… this.”

You paused, trying to figure out exactly what she was getting at, but then it dawned on you, “Talking about your feelings?”

Your lover quickly glanced at the floor, nodding slightly, and you nodded in return. This, you could work with. You let out a sigh, drawing her attention back to you, “Why don’t you sit? I can make us some tea?”

That gave the woman a moment to compose herself, and she silently thanked you for not making this any more painful than it had to be, “Tea would be lovely.”

You gestured toward the couch, and Venable moved to take a seat, studying your apartment as you worked. It was the first time she had been in there, and as she looked around she noticed just how much it fit you. It was a little messy, just like you were, a mishmash of flea market finds and old furniture, but something about it felt cozy, warm, and she couldn’t stop herself from running her finger along the soft flannel blanket you had strewn over the loveseat. That was a fitting word, loveseat, because in your apartment, staring at you as you silently moved around the kitchen, Venable was finding it incredibly hard to deny that she was hopelessly in love with you, and that terrified her.

“You have a lovely home.” Venable said politely, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling she got when you bit your lip and threw her a smirk.

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t exactly expecting company.” You teased, meeting the woman’s gaze.

“It’s quaint.” Your lover said quietly, and you were so focused on making the tea, you didn’t even bother to look up as you laughed.

“That’s a nice way of saying tiny and cluttered.” You joked, not noticing your girlfriend studying you like you were her favorite piece of art, and boy, did you look heavenly with your nimble movements and messy bun, barely held together by a set of chopsticks. You hated having your hair in your face, that was the first thing Venable noticed about you. Every morning, you would come into work with your long hair down, and by the end of every night, it was being held back by pens. You never could get it to all stay back, however, and the few wispy strands always framed your face in a way that could only be described as angelic.

You finally finished your task of making tea, glancing up only to catch the woman staring, and you threw her a lopsided, soft smile that made her so dizzy she had to look away. It was just too perfect, you were perfect, and she didn’t deserve perfect things.

You handed her a warm mug, and she quietly thanked you as you sat on the couch, leaning back on the arm and tucking your legs beneath you as you sank into the cushion. It was strange to see you so comfortable, but then again, this was your house, and this time it was Venable who felt out of her depth, making sure to sit as straight as she possibly could as she murmured out a thank you for the tea. She sipped it tentatively, but was pleasantly surprised to find that you had made it exactly to her tastes, sickeningly sweet, despite it not being her usual order that you brought her every morning. It made her insides warm, realizing just how well you knew her, how much you paid attention, and she couldn’t help but look at you in admiration.

“What?” You asked after noticing her staring, throwing her a smirk.

Mina tried to pry her eyes away from your form, tried to look anywhere else, but she couldn’t, and she found herself speaking before she could even formulate a coherent thought, “Nothing. You’re…uh, you’re just so… beautiful.” And boy, Wilhelmina didn’t think she could possibly love anything more than the way your cheeks blushed as you were caught off guard.

“Well, thank you. But I should let you know that flattery won’t get you out of this conversation.” You joked, watching her gaze fall as she nodded. “Mina?” You asked softly, waiting for her to bring her eyes back to yours, studying her delicate features for a moment, “Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

Out of reflex, Venable snapped, “Because I prefer to keep my private life, private.” It wasn’t the answer you were looking for, and she knew it, but you didn’t push like she was expecting. You just sipped your tea, patiently waiting for her to gather herself and give you a real answer, and she hated it. She hated the silence, and she hated how gentle you were being with her, like she was something soft, breakable, but then again, maybe she was. “I didn’t want them to ruin it.” She finally spits out after a moment, the truth leaving a bitter taste on her tongue.

“How would they ruin it?” You asked softly, causing her to scoff. But once again, you waited, and she wished you would just pry the answer out of her like so many before had tried to do. At least then she would have a reason to be hostile.

Venable clenched her jaw, “Because right now it’s just us, and I like just us. I want it to stay just us.” It wasn’t exactly a coherent response, but you knew immediately what she meant, because you felt it as well. You two had somehow managed to create your own little world together, except you didn’t mind sharing it.

“Even if they know, it can still stay just us.” You offered, getting another scoff in return.

“That’s not how Jeff and Mutt operate.” Venable bit, expecting your gaze to harden, but it still was just as soft.

“But it’s how I do.” You said confidently, “They can tease us as much as their little coked out heart’s desire. It’s not going to change how I feel about you, nothing will.” You watched your lover’s eyes go wide as she glanced away, panicked, and you tried to soothe her, “Hey, look at me.” You said gently as you cupped her chin, “I’m not trying to overwhelm you. We can slow things down if you want.”

“I don’t want to.” Venable said quickly, and you cocked your head to the side.

“Then what is it?” You asked, giving her a reassuring smile. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t really need to, you already knew. You knew how she felt about you, you had known for a while, she just couldn’t say it, and you got it, you really did. So you left it alone, at least for the time being, and changed the subject, “Stay with me today, here. We can order take out, or I can cook if you want. Just us.”

Venable looked at you doubtfully, but there was a glint of adoration in her eye, “You can cook?”

“I’ll try for you. No promises that it will be edible, though.” You joked, throwing her that lopsided smile that made her absolutely melt, and she couldn’t help but offer a small smile and nod back at you. You grinned, jumping off the couch and grabbing the now empty mug in her hand, “More tea?” She gave another nod, and you quickly pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose before disappearing back into your kitchen.

You spent the day drinking tea and watching terrible movies, ordering Chinese for dinner and eating it out of the paper cartons with chopsticks. You even managed to find a pair of purple pajamas for Mina to change into so that she was more comfortable. “I’ll put the food away. Do you want some wine?” You asked, grabbing the cartons from the coffee table and pressing a kiss to the woman’s forehead, smiling when she nodded.

You danced around the kitchen with light steps as she watched, and as you poured the wine she felt like if she held it in any longer she would burst. “Y/n?” She asked, you humming in response, not taking your eyes off the glasses you were filling, “I love you.”

You glanced up at your girlfriend with a small smile on your lips, grabbing the now full glasses and making your way to her, softly planting your lips on hers. “I love you, too.” You said once you broke apart, handing her the glass as you got a teasing look on your face.

“What?” She asked carefully, thinking there was something she was missing.

“Nothing.” You said, still smirking as your voice dropped, “You know, you still haven’t seen all of my apartment.”

Mina furrowed her brow, “You just poured wine.”

You gave her a shrug, “I don’t have any pets. We can leave it.”

“Or we can wait.” Venable said, still not catching onto the suggestive undertones. That was until you pulled off your shirt, leaving you in a black lingerie set that made the woman’s mouth water.

“Or we cannot.” You said, motioning her forward with your index finger as you stepped back towards your bedroom, laughing when your lover shook her head in mock disapproval. You had her wrapped around your finger and you knew it, and it was only confirmed as she followed behind you the very second you disappeared from her view. Boy, was she smitten for you.

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #venable has a sweet tooth #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #i didnt even edit this im so sorry

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

Text

Why Are You Here - Jamie Oleksiak - Part 3

Word Count: 2,786

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language

Notes: So this is the last part of this one. Hope you guys enjoyed it. It’s been a lot of fun writing for Big Rig! Let me know who you guys want to read about next. Happy Reading!

Why Are You Here Masterlist

Laying there just staring at Jamie, you couldn’t help but think of all the times in the past when you’d just fall asleep in this exact position; wrapped up in his body, feeling his warmth. It was everything that you cherished most about your relationship with him. Being like this, always felt like the rest of the world and its problems just disappeared. Only this time, the problem was staring you literally in the face. “Jamie, we need to…”

He didn’t let you finish. “I know. Can we just have ten more minutes like this? Then I promise we’ll talk.” Ten minutes, you could do that; just forget everything for that brief moment in time. Instead of saying anything, you just nodded your agreement. He snuggled you deeper into his chest then, your face nuzzling the hollow of this throat. In that instant, you felt so cared for and loved. You hadn’t felt that way since he left. It was a void you’d looked to fill for over a year and yet you’d only found it right now, with Jamie. You tried not to think about why he was the only one that made you feel this way, or what you were going to do after these ten minutes past. Instead, you just breathed in his scent, hoping to memorize everything at that moment, in case there wouldn’t be more.

Eventually, your eyes grew heavy and you let your lids fall shut, drifting off to sleep. It wasn’t the wisest decision you’d made, but then nothing you’d done in the past several hours was. Dreams of you and Jamie together permeated your brain. You both were so happy, so in love, that when you woke up it took a few minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not reality. Moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting the room in an ethereal glow. You were still wrapped in Jamie’s arms as he slept. Apparently, you’d both fallen asleep, not too surprising given what occurred between the two of you.

As you lay there, your thoughts drifted back to that day that Jamie got traded. If only he had asked you to go with him; things would be so different now. You’d probably be married by now, with quite possibly a baby on the way. When he’d first left, you had let your mind wander there; you walking down the aisle toward him. If you were being honest with yourself you’d always thought he was the one, still did. But that dream wasn’t meant to be, for even as you laid there naked in his arms, you couldn’t forget all the obstacles in your way.

You looked back up into Jamie’s face, so peaceful and content in sleep. It must be some sort of insanity that drove you to just lay there and look at him, knowing that things would never be the way that they were. Pain twisted in your heart, breaking it all over again. A single tear fell from your eyes and you inhaled sharply steeling your resolve so that others wouldn’t follow. This was utter nonsense, you couldn’t stay like this anymore, just lying there pretending. Jamie always slept like the dead, so it wasn’t too hard to extract yourself from his embrace. In under a minute, you were wrapped up in your robe, out on the couch with two of your warmest blankets on, trying to compensate for the loss of Jamie’s body next to yours.

What in the hell had you been thinking, to just fall in bed with Jamie like that? You should’ve known that it would only lead to more heartbreak. Was it too much to ask for someone who would just love you, and not leave you high and dry when times got difficult? Someone that cared for you, loved you and put you above everything else. You knew deep down it was what everyone craved, that one relationship that was just sacred and amazing, that held that all in encompassing love that was sought after. You knew you’d had that with Jamie, even if it was for a short time before he proved it all wrong. The question now was, could you find it again either with him or someone else? If there was one thing you knew for sure, you knew it wasn’t going to be with Aaron. Sure he was kind, sweet and gentle, but you just didn’t have that passion or burning love for him. What you felt from him was better described as friendship. You needed to find a way to let him know this in the morning, for no matter what happened with Jamie, you couldn’t continue to lead poor Aaron on.

You were startled out of your thoughts, as Jamie sat down on the couch next you clad only in his boxers, proceeding to worm his way under your blankets. “Why’d you leave?” He asked.

“We said ten minutes and we’re well past that.” There was a somberness to your voice and it mirrored the atmosphere of the room. Dim moonlight cast the place in shadows and made it hard for you to read Jamie’s expression. There was so much you wanted to say, yet you waited for him to make the first move.

“I don’t know what to say?” Was the first thing out of his mouth. If that was all he could think of then there was nothing left between you. The thought shattered your heart again, but then he continued. “I’m so sorry (Y/N). I’m sorry that I had to go to Pittsburgh, and that I didn’t ask you to come with me. I’m sorry for not calling you or texting you. I’m sorry for everything I did and didn’t do that day and every day after, until today.” He inhaled deeply, searching your face to gage if his words had any impact on you.

“Why?” It was one word, you didn’t have to say anything more, for he knew what you wanted to know.

“I couldn’t ask you to leave everything for me.” He blew out a frustrated breath before continuing. “You’d be leaving everything, your family, your job, your friends and for what, me? I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

You’d told yourself that was his excuse a thousand times after he left, yet somehow even after he said the words it still didn’t ring true with you. “It wasn’t your decision to make Jamie. It was mine, but you never asked. You should’ve given me the choice. You should’ve let me decide, but instead, you told me you wanted a fresh start, one that didn’t include me. Were things so bad that we couldn’t have that new start together?”

“Never.” He scooted closer to you on the sofa. “God they were perfect with you. You own a part of my soul for godsakes. I just couldn’t ask you to give up your life for me.” His jaw clenched in an effort to still the tears that threatened to stream down his face, yet one sole one leaked out. The million pieces that your heart had broken into just splintered to a million more, as you were openly sobbing now, for you were positive he owned your soul as well.

Reaching out you brushed away that one lone tear before saying, “All you had to do was ask.” It was literally that simple, couldn’t he see that.

A horrified expression crossed his face. “And what if you would’ve said no?” There it was the crux of the issue, the one thing that had never crossed your mind, for you knew if he would’ve just asked you to go, you would’ve said yes. No, had never been an option.

Taking his face in both of your hands, you looked him straight in the eyes so that he would believe the words you spoke. “I could never tell you no Jamie. I couldn’t then and I can’t now.” Drawing his face closer to yours, you continued. “I would’ve told you yes a thousand times over because you were my life.”

“But what about your family? Your friends?”

“They would all understand because they knew you were all that wrapped up in one person. You were my family, you were my best friend and I would’ve followed you to the end of the earth if you’d only asked me.” How did he not know this? How could he not see that you loved him beyond reasoning, still loved him?

Tears were flowing freely now, from his eyes, that you couldn’t wipe them away fast enough. On a choked sob, he replied. “You would’ve picked me?” There was still fear in his eyes, fear that you would tell him no even though it was a moot point.

“Every time, Jamie. Every time.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.” His head dropped down, taking your hands with it, as he had locked his around your wrists. “I should’ve asked you. I should’ve fucking asked.” The despondency in his voice, combined with his tears were your undoing, and you gathered him close to your chest. He stayed like that for several minutes. It wasn’t lost on you that he’d never been this emotional with you before. Of course, you’d seen a range of emotions throughout your relationship, but never this kind of sadness that seemed to be slowly tearing him apart and yourself in the process. He was baring his soul to you, and all you wanted to do was take his sorrow away, except you couldn’t for you felt it as well. All the missed time with each other that you couldn’t get back; it tore at you as well. There were no words you could say to him, for to say that it would be alright would be a lie, there was no way of going back, only an opportunity to move forward.

Finally, he pulled back to look at you; your faces mere inches apart. “You really would’ve chosen me wouldn’t you?” You nodded your head, as you didn’t trust your own voice at the moment. “No one ever picks me. I’m not Tyler, who has women falling at his feet or Chubbs who’s got that strong silent thing going on, that women love. I’m just some average guy that’s pretty good at hockey. Hell, even my sister is more well-known than me. I can’t even stay with one team for any length of time anymore.” You couldn’t take this; couldn’t listen to him berate himself.

“Jamie, stop! Stop talking about yourself like that.” You placed your hands on his shoulders, practically shaking him in the process of getting him to listen to you. “You are a phenomenal hockey player, and don’t let anyone tell you anything different. Do you hear me?” A weak smile played across his lips as you continued. “You’re smart and funny, and so incredibly handsome, that you make my heart stop when you walk into a room. Anyone that wouldn’t pick you is just downright crazy.” You knew that he only saw himself as just a normal guy, but he was so much more than that. The smile on his face grew wider than.

“I want you back (Y/N). I want us back.” Your mind went blank, as he caught you off guard. “The moment I found out I was coming back to Texas you’re all I thought about. I know you’re with Aaron, that’s why I asked you tonight if you love him because if you do I’ll walk away. It’ll be the hardest fucking thing I ever do, even more so than before, but I’ll do it.” Still, you didn’t say anything, as his eyes burrowed into yours, searching for some answer. “So do you love him? Just tell me.”

“No…No I don’t.” He sighed and you realized he must have been holding his breath in anticipation of your answer. “But…”

It was his turn to stop you then. “No buts (Y/N). If you don’t love him then I’m not walking away. I know I have a lot to make up for, and I will…I promise.”

“That’s not what I was going to say, Jamie.” He looked at you, confusion in his face. “I’d already made up my mind before, that I needed to tell Aaron it was over, no matter what happens between us.” Relief washed over him. “I was going to ask if you love her.”

“Her who?” He seemed genuinely confused by your question.

“The woman you were with at the fundraiser, the blonde.” From the look on his face, you would think he had no clue who she was, instead of actually being by her side the entire evening; well except for your little tryst in the bathroom.

“Who Brie?”

Brie, she looked like a Brie. Tall and model-like, she seemed a perfect fit for Jamie; more so than you. Jealousy boiled inside you, so your tone came off a bit harsher than you’d like when you said. “Sure, if that’s her name.” He started to laugh, the noise fueling the fire burning inside you. Throwing the blankets off you, you jumped off the couch to pace the living room. Finally, stopping in front of him with your hands on your hips. “It’s not fucking funny Jamie. You have a girlfriend and all you can do is sit there and laugh about it. You fuck me in the bathroom, while she’s right out there in the middle of the ballroom.” Not that you hadn’t done the same thing to Aaron, but that was not the point at the moment. “And then you come here and we do...” You threw your hands in the air, motioning to the bedroom. “Well we did what we did on my bed, and then you tell me you want me back. And all you can do is laugh when I ask about your girlfriend, like everything that happened tonight meant nothing.”

He grabbed you then and pulled you down on top of him; kissing you, halting any words that you were going to add. You struggled to pull back from his lips “Babe, I’m not dating Brie. She’s the new PR rep for the Stars, she was taking me around to some of the new donors since I’ve been gone for over a year.”

“Oh.” At first, it was the only thing that you could say, and then just to be sure you added. “So she’s not your girlfriend?”

“No, she most definitely is not my girlfriend.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m kind of hoping that title is going to be yours. I mean if you’re willing to give me another shot.”

“I mean…I want to, but I can’t go through what happened before Jamie.”

He pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I won’t ever leave you again. I promise.”

He was staring deep into your eyes, hoping to convince you that his words were the truth. You forced yourself not to look away as you asked. “But what if…I mean…” There was no easy way to put it. “What if you get traded again?”

He closed his eyes then, shielding his thoughts from you. Time ticked away as you waited for his answer. It felt like an eternity before he finally gave it. “I hope that doesn’t happen, but if…if it does, I want you to go with me.”

Your heart flip-flopped. This was the reassurance you wanted, no needed, to hear before you gave your heart completely back to him. “So, you’d ask me?” You didn’t have to say anything more, for he knew what you meant.

The smile that brightened his face, was almost blinding. “I’d ask you.” When he said that, your smile mirrored his. He kissed you then, his tongue mingling with yours and you gave yourself over to him, but all too soon he pulled away. “So are you saying that you’ll give us a second chance?”

It crossed your mind to make him wait, but then you’d both waited long enough. “Yes Jamie, I’ll give us another shot.” His mouth was on yours in a split second. The kiss was hard and demanding, begging you to give everything you had and so much more. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you drew him closer to you if that was even possible. It was several minutes before you both needed air, and even then, he would still sneak little peck at your lips.

“I love you, (Y/N).” The tip of his nosed touched yours, as he gave you a sweet little Eskimo kiss.

“I love you too Jame, and I’m so glad you’re back here with me, where you belong.”

#Why Are You Here Series #jamie oleksiak #Jamie Oleksiak imagine #Jamie Oleksiak imagines #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic

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ladyaudentium · 4 years

Text

Confectionary Affection

Title: Confectionary Affection Fandom: Final Fantasy Crisis Core Rating: T Pairing: AngealxOC Characters: Angeal Hewley, Zack Fair, Genesis Rhapsodos, Original Characters Links: A03, FF.net

This took me longer than I would have liked, but I'm back with the next chapter! This one is jam packed with Angeal and Zack content! Be sure to grab a cold drink and a snack to enjoy!

Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed after the first chapter so far! If I missed responding to anyone's review, I'm sorry! I'll be going back over the reviews for the previous chapter, and if I missed you, I'll send you a response!

Enjoy!

It was nearly impossible to forget that Angeal and Zack had stopped by her bakery.

Kalika and Anri worked themselves to the bone and were only just barely able to keep up to the new level of demand. Sometimes it was so busy during the morning that there was simply not enough stock left to open in the evening; not even if Kalika remade everything again.

At first the business had been making a considerable income, and even now, it was till turning a higher profit than the past, but the costs of running the establishment had also increased. Sometimes there was simply not enough ingredients or prepared pastries left to open again in the evening. Usually this ended up with the business losing money.

Not only that but the increased workload had Kalika and Anri burning out more quickly than they could regain their strength. Kalika's usual late nights and early mornings preparing dough and bakery items were quickly turning into working around the clock. It wasn't unusual for her to doze off kneading a bread dough only to wake with it on the floor or ruined from over working it.

Anri was the same, for the first time since she was a new employee, she was making mistakes with drink and food orders. As a result, the customers were becoming upset and more than once a scene with raised voices had caused Kalika to intervene and forcibly remove the troublemakers.

It was getting to the point where an extra set of hands was a necessary addition; preferably a set with some muscle behind them. Kalika sighed heavily as she once again wiped the chalk board clean. Her handwriting was never great to begin with, but her hands were still sore and shaky from the kneading she had just finished.

The sun was beginning to set, and the bakery had been closed all day. Kalika had spent all night and day preparing every bit of dough, batter, and meringue for the no doubt absolutely insane day tomorrow. If her usual delivery of supplies was on time, she would be able to open again the day after, but if not… well she would come up with something. She always did.

Slapping her cheek, she forced herself to stay awake for just a little while longer, she just needed to finish this task and then she was finished—

*KNOCK KNOCK* "Kalika?" a voice called from outside.

The young woman jumped at the sudden noise which caused a series of events to follow:

First, her precariously placed step ladder slipped off the edge of the counter, causing her to scream in fear and drop all her supplies creating a racket.

Second, the door burst open just as she desperately tried to remain balanced, her hands reaching out for anything that would keep her from the inevitable.

Third, she fell.

The young woman braced for the cold, hard impact of the floor, but instead was met with a warm embrace. Black hair and blue eyes entered her vision and it was with a sudden sinking pit in her stomach that she knew who it was.

Angeal Hewley.

"You should be more careful." He intoned lowly, his chest vibrating with his voice, "We need to stop meeting like this."

Kalika stared up into his bright blue eyes as her head rested on his chest. "I don't know, I think it's kind of nice?" the words escaped her mouth before she could think twice and immediately could feel her face begin to heat up in a deep, mortified blush.

Angeal blinked once in disbelief as his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

"Better be careful, Angeal or pretty soon she's going to be falling for you!" Zack called excitedly, breaking the silence.

The black-haired man, sighed deeply and screwed his eyes shut, clearly stressed, "Zack. What have I said to you about appropriate behavior and comments?" he prompted as the burly SOLDIER made a move to stand, his steady grip assisting Kalika to stand along with him.

There was a heavy sigh from the opposite side of the corner while the younger boy replied monotonously, "You said that I need to think before speaking and that words have impact. I can't take back anything once it's been said, sometimes the best choice is to remain silent." the energetic boy leaned back over a bar stool and with both hands over his face, "I can't help it though, you two make it so easy!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands to the ceiling.

"You need to learn self-restraint if you intend to be an honorable member of SOLDIER in the future." Angeal scolded and judging from the young boy's reaction, this seemed to be a common occurrence between the two of them. Somehow, that did not come as a surprise to the young woman.

"I know, I'm doing my best, Angeal! Sometimes it just bursts out before I can stop it!" Zack turned to Kalika, "By the way, we're here to return this! The scones were delicious, thanks!" he held out the same container that Anri had given them upon their departure from their last visit.

The blue haired girl blinked once in surprise as she accepted the box; a reusable one that was not their typical to-go boxes. That sly girl, she had planned for this too. "Thanks, I'm glad you liked them." she looked up at Angeal, "I'm sorry for the trouble of making you come back here to return it. It would have been fine if you just disposed of the container instead." she also took the opportunity to notice that it had been washed as well. How… odd. Somehow, she just could not picture prominent members of SOLDIER doing something as ordinary as washing dishes.

The image of Angeal in a pink, frilly apron suddenly was at the forethought of her brain and she blushed deeply once again.

"It would be wasteful to merely dispose of an easily reusable box such as this." Angeal stated plainly. His eyebrows lowered with concern as he pulled a glove from his hand and gently placed his palm on her forehead, "You're quite red, are you feeling alright? Have you eaten anything today?"

"I - I think so? I've been busy today and haven't had a chance to sit down for long." Kalika blurted as she froze in place. Should she move away from his hand? Or would that be rude? Why was he being so friendly? Was he always this caring to strangers? Especially a stranger that just hit on him a minute ago. The blush returned full force to her face with that traitorous thought.

Before she could panic any further, he pulled his hand away and once again donned his glove. The young woman breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Busy? But you're closed!" Zack spoke up, and cocked his head to the side, "Wait, why are you closed? Shouldn't this place be hopping right now?"

Both sets of bright blue eyes settled on her with varying inquisitiveness. Zack's was honest confusion but Angeal's was less readable. His mouth was set in a straight line across his strong jaw while his eyes held a spark of suspicion that set a cold sweat down Kalika's spine.

Oh boy, how could she explain this without outright blaming them for the necessary closure and the empty ingredient cabinet?

"I… well… you see, ever since your last visit, business has been crazy. Lately I can't keep to the hours we normally hosted. Sometimes I'm up all night preparing!" Her words were spoken with a joyous tone, but from the lack of change in both of their expressions, she was not convincing them.

Angeal opened his mouth to respond, the frown of concern deep on his brow, but was interrupted by a fourth, unfamiliar voice, "Oh my Gaia, you're Angeal Hewley First Class SOLDIER! You're back! I can't believe it, I gotta tell everyone!"

Kalika felt the blood leave her face as her attention immediately snapped to the tall, blonde woman currently standing in the open doorway attempting to snap a picture of the two men.

"No, pictures without permission and we're closed, please leave!" She ordered, pushing past Angeal to confront the woman directly.

"What? But it's the middle of your posted hours and your door is open! You can't throw me out, do you know who I am?"

"Nope, and I'm sorry you've forgotten. Now, please get out, we are closed, and you are trespassing."

The woman's brown eyes flashed with indignation, "Listen, I don't know how you get off talking to customers like that, but—"

"No buts! I asked you to leave. I won't ask again." Crimson eyes sparked with anger as she stared the other woman down.

Red lips opened to argue further, but she was cut off by a deep, commanding voice "You have been asked to leave, you should comply with that request."

A quick, furtive glance backwards revealed Angeal standing straight, his burly arms crossed over his chest and a dark glare adorning his features. A shudder wormed its way down Kalika's spine. Scary, was the only thing she could think.

There was a beat of silence between the three of them. The woman suddenly looked appropriately ashamed of her behavior and without another word scuttled away.

The second the woman was outside, Kalika grabbed the door and threw it shut behind her. Much to her surprise, it bounced back open and that's when she noticed the lock was completely broken. Around the spot where the deadbolt should have been was a hole in the door frame and splinters scattered along the floor.

She shut it again, it bounced backwards.

She applied a little more force, it bounced backwards again.

Frustration and resentment burning within her, she tried again; it bounced backwards.

With all her strength, she slammed the door shut and before it could bounce back, shoved a chair underneath the similarly broken and limp door handle.

Defeated, she braced her hands against the door and let her head hang between them.

"It would probably be a good idea for you both to use the back door to leave. You'll attract less attention that way… plus, it seems this one is broken now." Kalika murmured quietly, not daring to look up in fear that they would see the unshed tears in her eyes.

"Kali…? Is everything… okay?" Zack's genuinely concerned voice broke the silence.

A lump caught in her throat and without looking at either of them she walked to the nearest table and sat down on one of the chairs, burying her face in her hands. She could not cry, not here, not with Angeal Hewley First Class SOLDIER and Zack Fair here to witness it. One shuddering breath later gave her the confidence to speak.

"Yeah, I'll be fine… somehow, I always am."

A shadow fell over her, "Is there anything we can do to help?" Zack asked.

"No, but thanks." Kalika waved him off but much to her surprise, he caught her hand between two gloved ones of his own. Surprised, she looked up into an uncharacteristically serious expression on the young boy's face.

"I swear on my honor as a SOLDIER I will do whatever it takes to help you, Kali. You're one of us now, right Angeal?"

"Don't swear on your honor lightly, Zack."

"I mean it! I do!"

Angeal nodded, seemingly accepting his young protégé's resolve. "How long has your door been broken like this?" the First Class inquired.

Kalika sniffed as delicately as she could as she attempted to take her hand back from Zack, but it was held tight. "It was fine earlier today; it was only just now that something seemed to be wrong. There was a hole where the deadbolt was and splinters from the door frame were scattered along the floor…" the young woman snapped her jaw shut when she realized the implications of her words.

Angeal's face darkened once again and his eyebrows angled inwards at a dangerous angle as he stared his young protégé down. There was a heavy beat of silence as Zack seemed to realize what was going on, "Oh… well… you know… SOLDIER strength, am I right?"

"No! It's fine really!" Kalika jumped up and did her best to placate the visibly upset SOLDIER, "It was old and in need of replacement anyways, I can probably write the replacement off as a business expense. I'm sure Zack didn't mean it."

Angeal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "His intentions aren't the issue. SOLDIERs have enhanced senses and abilities. If Zack does not learn how to control these properly, he could end up hurting himself or worse, others." He looked up, "I apologize for the door, Zack you're going to suspend a fifty-pound weight in a squat today to make up for your lack of control this evening."

Zack groaned and Kalika winced sympathetically, "I don't think that's necessary, is it? Maybe since you're really strong you could help me with something, and we call it even?" she suggested. "I still need to finish rewriting that menu sign. We're opening with a new item tomorrow."

Angeal looked over his shoulder to see the unfinished chalkboard, "Is that what you were doing when you fell?"

An embarrassed blush crept over her face once again, "Yes, it's too high for me to reach on my own. So, I usually have to get creative… with a step ladder… on the counter."

"That sounds very dangerous." The raven-haired man lowered his eyebrows in concern and disapproval.

"Maybe you can help Angeal! Just lift her up and she'd be able to reach no problem!" an excited Zack exclaimed and, in his enthusiasm, squeezed her hand that was still held captive.

The young woman sputtered, "I- that's not what I meant, but maybe if one of you could just hold the ladder steady? I usually have Anri to help me, but I gave her the day off today."

Angeal turned and with one hand lifted the step ladder she had been using, revealing one of the legs to be broken off, "For the sake of your safety, I would advise against using this again."

"Oh… I see…" the young woman murmured as she worried her bottom lip, how was she going to get up there now?

Zack was practically vibrating with excitement from beside her. A quick glance to him revealed that he was glancing quickly between the two of them biting his lip in anticipation. He was planning something, if only the blue-haired woman could figure out what it was…

"To make amends for the broken door, I would be willing to lift you as Zack suggested." Angeal offered as he moved the broken ladder out of the way.

"I mean, are you sure? I don't want to be a burden. Are you sure I won't be too heavy?"

The burly man grinned and chuckled deeply. The genuine mirth revealed pearly white teeth and the genuine good-ness that radiated from him was unlike anyone she had ever met before. "I'm sure."

Kalika blushed for what seemed like the tenth time in under an hour, "I – Well… if you're sure, I guess. I need to get the chalk." Walking forwards, Zack finally let go of her hand and Angeal stepped out of the way to let her pass behind the bar. Grabbing the chalk from the ground and the eraser cloth, she turned back to the First-Class SOLDIER, "Okay, I'm ready, how would you like to do this?"

Angeal stepped forward and for the first time she noticed how tall he was. She had never felt so small compared to someone in her life, he dwarfed her in every sense. She was eye level with the middle of his chest, and he was easily twice as wide as her. Another blush adorned her cheeks as he knelt to one knee, "Sit on my shoulder and I will take hold of your legs."

Nodding, she turned around and as instructed, gingerly sat on his shoulder, doing her best to put as little weight on him as possible. Two arms wrapped around her knees, locking them in place and the next thing she knew, he was lifting her into the air.

Sucking in a breath she flailed, unbalanced, for one moment before a hand on her thigh steadied her. Angeal Hewley, First Class SOLDIER of Shinra was touching her leg. She tried not to think about how her butt was on his shoulder and instead focused on finishing the sign as quickly as possible. Her hands and shoulders cramped but she did her best to legibly scrawl the newest addition to her menu.

"Dumbapple tart?" Zack exclaimed, "Angeal, didn't you grow up in Banora?! That's so cool!"

"Is that true?" Kalika inquired, looking down to meet the bright blue eyes of Angeal.

"It is, both Genesis and I grew up there. His parents had the best Banora White tree, every summer we would take as many apples as we could and sit in the branches eating them." A small, nostalgic smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.

"That changes everything then, let me down, I'm all finished now."

With one swift movement, the hands disappeared from her person and for a brief moment, she hung suspended in the air before being gently lowered to the ground. The black-haired SOLDIER stared down at her with a quizzical expression on his face. Setting the chalk down she made to pass him, "Have a seat. I'll be right back," and disappeared into the kitchen.

The fridge opened with a hiss, a quick scan through the contents revealed her prize. Pulling two small tarts from their tray, Kalika put them on a plate and made her way back to the front. The fridge closed with a satisfying click behind her.

"Here, to thank you for helping me with the sign, please be the first to try a tart!" placing the plate on the bar counter, she waited excitedly for them to each take one. "They're Banora White apple tarts with some decorative white chocolate to counter the sourness and some edible gold sparkles for presentation."

Zack immediately grabbed one and in one bite put the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes lit up as he playfully slapped his mentor's shoulder, "D'ese are r'lly gud An'eal! You shou'd taste ish!" (translation: These are really good, Angeal! You should taste this!)

Angeal sighed in resignation as he took a tart, "Thank you, this wasn't necessary as it is us who are in your debt, not the opposite way around."

Kalika smiled brightly, "It's fine, really! Plus, I hope that I can live up to your memories of the times stealing and eating the apples."

With a small smile, he took a bite and instantly his blue eyes lit up with surprise, his eyebrows once again disappearing into his hairline. Swallowing, he turned back to the blue haired woman, "You have a true gift for baking."

Flushing for the umpteenth time that day, Kalika continued to smile, "I'm glad you like them. I'll package up one for Commander Rhapsodos as well and you can give one to him too!"

"How much do we owe you for the tarts?" Angeal asked as she pushed through the door to the kitchen.

"Nothing! They're thanks for helping me!" she called back as she began to package up the third tart and then returned to the front with it. Angeal stared her down, his mouth a straight line and his azure gaze steeled with his resolve.

"Please, it would be dishonorable for us to accept these gifts a second time. Especially when your door breaking was our fault in the first place."

Stumped, she could only stare. Never had anyone been so insistent on paying for a gift. "Don't be silly, these are gifts, do you insist for payment when you give a gift to someone?" she held out the tart wrapped in a white box with Confectionary Affection stamped on the sides. "Here's Commander Rhapsodos's tart, try not to squish it if you can, and now it's getting late. I imagine you need to get back to Shinra, since the front door's broken and likely a crowd of fans outside waiting for you to exit, follow me to the back door."

With that, she turned on her heel and pushed open the swinging door and motioned for them to follow her. Zack hopped up immediately, but Angeal took a moment to gather himself and follow. Passing through the kitchen and a small hallway with a set of stairs leading to the second floor, they came to the back door. Pushing it open revealed the dirt yard and receiving area for her shipments of ingredients.

"Thanks again for the treats, Kali. They were delicious as always!" Zack called as he jumped down the short flight of stairs, an arm extended in a cheery wave.

"Thank you for your hospitality. You honor us with your generosity. Genesis will enjoy this pastry, I am certain." Angeal stated solemnly, his eyes shining with the depth of his gratitude.

"Any time, come by again soon. Preferably without causing any trouble this time. Using the back door might not be such a bad idea to avoid any drama like with that woman earlier." She pointed to a black rectangle with a button in the middle, "Next time you're by, just ring this doorbell and I'll let you in."

Zack grinned devilishly and took a breath to make a comment, but before he could utter a sound, Angeal put a hand over the young boy's mouth to silence him. "Thank you Kalika, we will not forget your kindness today."

The blue -haired baker could only manage a small wave as they turned to walk away. Zack continued to wave enthusiastically until they were out of sight behind the fence. Closing the door, her knees felt weak. The sound of her name on Angeal's lips created a feeling in her like she'd never experienced before. Sliding to the ground she replayed the memory in her mind until she was sure that it would be with her forever.

She had offered for them to come back again, but it was such wishful thinking she did not dare hope too much. Once was a coincidence, twice was a pattern, but three times was a dream and nothing more.

But oh, how she loved to dream.

Oh they'll be back, but in the meantime, there's other shenanigans that need to happen first >:3c

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you'd like! I always enjoy hearing your thoughts!

#angeal hewley #zack fair #original character #me and my dummy thicc angeal propaganda #fic #confectionary affection #writing stuff #my writing

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diary-of-deadweight · 4 years

Text

Friendship anniversary.

Pairing: Tenya Iida x reader

Summary: what started out as a idea pitched at 3am turned tradition, Iida is planning something big with the help of Deku and Uraraka.

Iida paced within the comfort of his own room, arms behind his back as he racked his brain of what to get you for friendship anniversary, which was slowly creeping nearer the longer he spent a majority of the free time pacing with no dice. It was a beyond infuriating task as your someone who values the thought put into a gift rather then the price tag; hell he could give you a notebook and you would love it as if you were gifted a car instead. Iida wanted to give you something you’d love even if the price is above the budget you agreed on way back then.

So he visited the local jewellery store at the weekend and saw something he’d think you would absolutely love as it reminded him of your beauty and how much it has blossomed over your years of friendship, not just physically but personality wise too, he bought it and kept it in his desk since then but for Iida one gift wasn’t enough as you always managed to get him two gifts he absolutely loved which is why he was currently pacing in his room.

He was trying to come up with another gift he’d knew you would like.

sad thing was that he didn’t know what to get you as he already bought you the latest movies and the latest manga of your favourite anime; one punchman which was a true tale about a bald hero and his immense strength, speed and agility along side his dream of meeting a strong enough opponent who can toss him around a bit before knocking them around abut himself with a single punch, for your birthday and previous friendship anniversaries that he was left to his own devices this time round.

A knock upon the door pulled him from out of his brainstorming session, striding over to the door to see who was in need of his assistance during this dire time. “Hey Iida.” The class rep was greeted by his dear friends, Izuku and Uraraka, “do you wanna head to the mall with us?” The Brunette asked. “I’m sorry but I’m currrntly facing a task that requires my full attention right now, so I’m gonna have to decline your offer.” Iida informed them before closing the door on them, ready to get back to his scheduled brainstorming only to find his friends sat upon his bed made him do a double take between the door and them in befuddlement that went unnoticed by the two. “What’s troubling you Iida, we are your friends and friends help each other,” Ochaco nodded her head vigorously at Midoriya’s statement, “so we shall tackle this issue together.”

Iida sighed, shaking his head in disbelief at his friends persistence of wanting to aid him and decided that three heads were ultimately better then one and he was in desperate need of an idea so what could go wrong? “It’s mine and (y/n)’s frienship anniversary coming up and I’m struggling to think of another gift to give them.” He day himself on the other side of Midoriya, leaning his back against the cold wall. “So what is the first gift you got them?” Ochaco tilted her head to the side, her bob haircut followed suit with her moment.

“An Swarovski crystal necklace.”

Izuku and Ochaco gasped in surprise, sharing a look before looking back at Iida, “Doesn’t (y/n) hate expensive gifts because a Swarovski Crystal isn’t cheap.”

“I know, I thought that if I tell them that it reminded me of how beautiful and unique our friendship is that they wanted to preserve it forever.” Iida explained, blushing slightly when Uraraka cooed at how cute it all was that the bluenette must’ve thought she misinterpreted it as something albeit romantic but waved it off as accidental. “Why don’t you show them how much they mean to you.” Izuku suggested with a shrug, Iida thought about it and sure enough took interest in the idea, “what do you mean by that Midoriya?”

“I mean that you should create a slide by slide presentation on all the great moments you’ve had together.” The curly emerald haired male expanded upon his idea, “add some videos if you have any.” Ochaco added for the hell of it, already excited to see the finished product that they both free balled ideas that Iida either shot down due to being unrealistic to pull off or liked as it was something that could be easily accomplished.

This went on well into the afternoon and they decided that the plan was ready to go and went down to celebrate with Katsuki’s cooking as they dragged their limbs that felt like they were 100 pounds heavier with each step they took.

Timeskip

When the day finally arrived Iida was practically sweating bullets and his nervousness kicked into overdrive as he couldn’t seem to hold the USB without his hand violently shaking that he decided to place it within the safety in his pocket along side the necklace so he didn’t loose and or drop it anytime soon. He looked up at the clock upon the wall, sapphire gaze setting upon the illumonesent scarlet numbers which flashed repeatedly:

‘8:30am’

It wouldn’t be long until you would wake up and head down to the common room for breakfast and your morning cup of tea/coffee, you were a grumpy little shit without it as many of the class found out first hand. So the tall male setted off out the door and down to the common room like a bolt of lightning and began setting up everything whilst leaving his friends Uraraka and Midoriya to inform the rest of his classmates why most of the common room will be sectioned off into a blanket fort, they insisted in helping him set up to which he declined but appreciated their offer as this day was primarily for you and him specifically after a 3am conversation.

So he was thankful that no one was down in the common room as a majority of them were heavy sleepers and wouldn’t get up until like 10 am whilst people like Katsuki and Kirishima were early worms and would get up the millisecond the sun rose and do some morning training which gave Iida the chance to litter the floor with wisteria petals, whip out a old theatre screen from the closets (I don’t know the fucking name to them ok.) a little projector that he could connect to the computer and did a little test run beofre giving the room a satifying nod just as a ‘ping’ noise came from his phone.

It was a text from Midoriya.

‘Hey Iida are you ready cuz (y/n) is heading towards the staircase right now, Uraraka tried to stall them a little to give you extra time but it failed badly.’

Iida smiled at how kind his friends are to stall time for him, he responded back with.

‘Thank you Midoriya I’m already set up with relatively ease but I appreciate the help.’

After he pocketed his phone a voice from the stair case he knew almost instantly.

“Oh my god...Iida,” he turns around to you with a softened look, “is this all for our special day?” He wordlessly nods, “it’s beautiful.” He watched your wide eyed expression as they wander around the decorated section as if you were walking through the snow covered streets of Musutafu as you came from a *cough* fictional *cough* country where snow is rare; unable to speak which gave Iida mixed emotions as half of him believed it was out of disgust while the other half believed that it was out of shock and amazement at his efforts of making today the best friend’s anniversary in recent memory, something he hope you both remember years from now.

He wandered over to you, resting a hand upon your shoulder that made you jump slightly, you turned to him with an almost unreadable expression, making IIda’s worry increased by a fraction.

“(Y/n), do you like it?”

“Like it? Like it? Iida I love it!” You exploded with joy as you hugged the male as tightly that he swore he couldn’t feel his lower half beofre finally deciding that it was time to show you the gifts so he tapped you on the shoulder to signify for you to release him, which you did as you watched him as he made his way over to the computer, pressing play as a video began playing from the projector that began with some emotional music whilst pictures of you and Iida flashed before your eyes while every once in a while bold lettering would spread saying the sweetest shit like:

‘Under a cherry blossom tree three years ago stood a person I had no idea would later become my best friend. Someone I couldn’t possibly live without or be away from for an extensive period of time without worrying about their well being but I know that they know I only mean well when I do so.

‘But as of this year, 2020, I had troubles trying to think of what to get them as I would spoil them rotten under the radar which’ll most definitely earn me a scolding later today. If it wasn’t for Izuku and Uraraka for giving me this idea during my time of stress, I don’t know what I would’ve done.’

Before another barrage of photos and videos of you both either inside or outside the academy, being either falsely stern at each other and laughing about it seconds after or just pulling funny faces at the camera.

‘So I decided to take their idea and make a presentation on how much (y/n) (l/n)’s frienship means to me so I’m going to summarise it on a sentence before the next section of pictures cuts in.’

You chuckled at this.

‘(Y/n)’s friendship means everything to me and I would never trade it for anything.’

So as the last load of pictures and or videos came to an end one last paragraph showed itself over an uncomfortably zoomed in picture of your face such drew a hysterical laugh from your lips, a sweet release from all the crying you’ve been doing through out it all as nostalgia swept you off your feet and carried you down memeory lane of each individual picture and or video. You truly didn’t know where you’d be without having this sapphire eyed male beside you...you truly didn’t.

‘(Y/n). Your friendship was and always will be the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced and I hope that even well into adulthood we still uphold this tradition for as long as we can, I never wish to loose the unique relationship we’ve built overtime due to the lack of communication, it’s something I’d be stupid to give up, so I hope you enjoy the next gift that, honestly costed a pretty penny but was most defiantly worth it as it symbols out frienship and how it’s so unique it had to be crystallised. Happy friend anniversary (y/n), here’s to many more’

- Tenya Iida.

Tenya then knelt next to you as he hands you a small box, gesturing you to open it with a nod of his head as he wiped away the tears that had gathered within his eyes over the presentation and the waves of nostalgia that wished over him and how even through the worst of days you both stuck together like gorilla glue.

You opened the beautifully presented box to see this:

“A Swarovski Crystal?!” You exclaimed as you dangled the necklace in front of your blurry eyes as you admired hoe it glistened under the light, “Tenya Iida, you beautiful bastard help me get this on please.” You sniffled as you unclasped the necklace, handing it to Iida who sat himself behind you, shifting hair out of the way as he clasped the necklace as you felt the center price rest upon the middle of your chest as you gazed down at it in awe, wiping away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks like a waterfall as you were riddlers with emotions that you just thought ‘fuck it’ and tackled Tenya into a hug as you cried into him; saying how you didn’t deserve such a friend as loyal as him and thanked him for being born, how blessed you were to have him in your life which made Iida collapse into a heap of tears himself, while unknownst to you, the rest of your class stood on the stair way, smiling at your sweet moment before evacuating the area to give you both some privacy.

Later down the line you and Iida may or may not have gotten married later on in life and would be spending your third anniversary underneath a familiar cherry blossom tree, the same exact one where you first met all those years back.

#anime #bnha #anime x reader #anime imagine #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #tenya iida imagine #tenya iida imagines #tenya iida x reader #iida imagines #iida x reader #iida imagine #mha imagines #mha imagine

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