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mise en rose.
Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use
The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.
Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.
Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.
You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.
Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.
There’s something floating in the distance.
A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?
The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.
You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.
“Oh, shit.”
The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.
“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”
—
“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”
“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”
“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”
“That would not be cool.”
You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”
“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”
“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”
“We have to undress him and warm him up.”
“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.
The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.
“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”
“Uh,” you say.
“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”
“I’ll do it myself.”
With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.
Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.
“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”
It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.
“You’re really not,” Archy replies.
“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”
The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.
“Three days. Maybe.”
You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”
“No.”
“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”
His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”
“Well, okay, if you say so.”
What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.
“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”
—
After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.
“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.
He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.
“’Bout a day.”
“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”
“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”
“I told you not to touch them.”
“I didn’t. My brother did.”
Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.
“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”
“You’re bladesmiths?”
“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”
This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”
He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.
“’S good.”
“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”
You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.
“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”
“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”
“Roronoa Zoro.”
You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”
“No. I hunt them.”
“You hunt them?”
“That’s what I said.”
You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.
Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.
“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.
“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”
“What?”
“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”
Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”
Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.
“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.
Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”
“Can you prove it?”
“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”
“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”
“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”
He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”
“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”
“Where’s here?”
“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”
“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.
“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”
“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”
You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”
“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”
Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.
—
True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.
He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.
“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”
Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”
“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”
“Probably,” he says.
“When did you start?”
“When I was eight.”
You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”
It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.
When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”
Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”
You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”
“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”
“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”
“How come you’re here, then?”
You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”
“You’re staying because of your brother.”
“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”
It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.
But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.
Perhaps you’ve made another friend.
—
“What are you making?”
You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”
The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.
“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.
“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”
Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.
Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.
“Ain’t that your third bottle?”
“I can hold my liquor.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”
He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.
(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)
“Hey, Zoro.”
“Hm.”
Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”
“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.
“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”
“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”
“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”
Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.
“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”
“Really?”
“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”
Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”
“What do you mean?”
“You talk a lot,” he says.
You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”
Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.
Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”
“Nope.”
“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”
His brow furrows as he takes it.
“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”
One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.
“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.
“I know.”
—
It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.
“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.
“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”
“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”
“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.
You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.
The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.
You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.
Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.
You wipe your nose. “What?”
“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”
It’s like the world tilts on its axis.
Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.
“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”
“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”
“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”
You can barely breathe.
“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”
“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”
“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”
Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.
“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”
You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”
“Okay.”
Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.
“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Is it?
You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –
Free.
“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”
Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.
#opla#one piece#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro#opla zoro#one piece live action#opla fanfiction#one piece fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#once again i underestimated how long this would take. hoowee#opla zoro my grumpy old man :)#good thing reader is coming along otherwise he'd NEVER make it to mirror ball island rip
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Malcolm in the Middle Simp Headcanons
Masterlist
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Malcolm
Probably met you in the Krelboyne class
Very impressed by your brains
Always chooses you as a study buddy or project partner
Holds back complaints about life and shit just to hear you talk
This is very difficult for him to do bc the dude LOVES to complain
Holds your books/backpack for you and walks you to all your classes
Mainly because you have the same classes, but he insists he’d do it even if you didn’t
Learns everything about you and commits it to memory (which isn’t hard because of his memory)
You’re the best thing in his sucky life
Stevie had half a mind to roll away from his best friend as he went on and on about Herkabe. Something about him trying to get Malcolm to sabotage his perfect GPA so Herkabe could keep some academic record. Usually, Stevie would care very much about someone’s academic standing. But right now, he was focused on trying not to kill himself or Malcolm.
“I mean, it’s absolutely ridiculous! He’s using Reese to get me to tank a grade. Reese! It’d work better if it was-”
“Hey, guys!” You bounded towards the two, and Malcolm’s demeanor changed entirely. Stevie was grateful for your arrival because, for some reason, Malcolm lessened the bitching and moaning by a lot.
“Hey, Y/n.” The boys greeted back.
“So, what were you guys talking about?”
“Well-” Stevie was about to snitch on your boyfriend but was cut off by him.
“Oh, it was nothing.”
“Are you sure? You looked pretty passionate about it.” Malcolm assured you it was nothing, but Stevie gave you a look saying he’d tell you about it later. “Okay, then. Wanna go to class?”
“Sure!” Malcolm responded excitedly, grabbing his backpack off the lunch table you were hanging around. You said goodbye to Stevie and made your way to first period. “Want me to take your bag?” He asked but was already slipping the strap off your shoulder.
Reese
COOKS FOR YOU
ALL THE TIME
I’m convinced it’s his love language
From snacks to tide you over until lunch to full-course meals during the rare occasion that you two have the house to yourselves
Will beat the shit out of anyone who messes with you
If it’s a girl, he’ll probably get Cynthia to do it
Your happiness is his biggest priority; he can’t have some idiot messing with that
“Reese, this is delicious.” You moaned as you ate a baggie of your favorite snack that he had cooked up for you. He knew how hungry you’d get from skipping breakfast, so he packed you a little snack bag every day so you wouldn’t be miserable until lunch. He was somewhat surprised that the teacher hadn’t made him stop bringing food to class, but it might’ve had something to do with the fact that whenever you were happy, he was happy. And a teacher would rather have a happy Reese than an angry Reese.
“I think I might make that my go-to snack for you; you seem to like it the most.” You smiled at the comment, giddy that he paid attention enough to know which of his foods were your favorite.
“Well, I like all your food.”
The last bunch of kids filed in, and the last one seemed miserable. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was a kid in your class that messed with you frequently. You then noticed that he was littered with cuts and bruises. Immediately, you had an inkling of how this happened.
“Reese, did you do that?” He looked up at the kid, smirking at his handiwork.
“Gotta keep my girl happy.”
Francis
Thinks it’s love at first sight
Francis is such a delusional romantic tbh
If you meet him while he’s in military school, he’s always writing you poems and letters
Half of his calls home are for you because he just wants to know how you’re doing
If you work at the ranch with him, he’ll pick up the work on your chores if you have something to do
Even if you don’t need any help, he’ll accompany you just because he loves spending time with you
You know those tiktoks that are like “when you and your friend work together, so everything’s a two-person job now”?
That’s him with EVERYTHING
Even if you’ve been together for years, he still tries to impress you with extravagant presents or ideas
You tell him you don’t need/want much, just him, but he thinks you deserve the very best
“Francis, I can do it myself.” You jokingly rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, who set out plates and cutlery for the breakfast buffet. “It’s the easiest job of my day.”
“I just wanna make it easier, baby.” Francis kissed you before straightening the table clothes in the dining hall and on the patio.
“Well, thank you.” You smiled before moving to restock the napkin dispenser. Francis raced to your side, opening the dispenser for you. “Thanks again.”
“No problem. So, I was looking at our schedules, and I noticed we should be done with work at the same time.”
“Oh, yeah?” He nodded, closing the dispenser and positioning it right on the table. “What do you have planned?”
“Not much.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but if you knew your boyfriend well, you knew at least three different activities were reserved for you two now. “Just a couple’s horse ride, massage, and then I asked Otto to make sure that one of the jacuzzis would be off limits. Just for us.”
“Oh, that sounds so nice, honey.” He cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply, and you were thankful that the guests were either still asleep or doing something else.
“Anything for my favorite girl.”
#malcolm wilkerson x reader#malcolm wilkerson#malcolm wilkerson headcanons#reese wilkerson x reader smut#reese wilkerson#reese wilkerson headcanons#francis wilkerson x reader#francis wilkerson#francis wilkerson headcanons#malcolm in the middle#malcolm in the middle x reader#agaypanic
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Tokyo Revengers Head Cannons #1: You Give Him an Eskimo Kiss (Draken, Ran)
Ryuguji “Draken” Ken:
🐉 You’re chilling on his breaktime, having just finished sharing a homemade meal.
🐉 He’s lounging, halfway into a food coma, with an arm slung around your shoulders while you nuzzled into his side. He’s still in his overalls, and smells a little like grease and his drugstore sandalwood perfume.
🐉 His slowing breaths bring a smile to your face, and you look up at him. He’s beautiful like this, eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks and lips parted slightly.
🐉 Yet you sigh; he still has some work to do, and he hates closing up late.
🐉 So, being the amazing person you are, you decide to remind him. Your mouth opens to call out to him, but just as your vocal chords prepare, an idea hatches in your noggin.
🐉 You’d seen a child do this to their parent on the way here. The term escapes you, but it involved rubbing the tip of your nose on the other person’s. It melted your heart, and you figured with Draken’s tall and pointy nose, it was a walk in the park.
🐉 You crane your face up to his, and with bated breath, touch your nose with his and slowly shake your head.
🐉 His eyes fly open, and you nearly fall off the couch with the strength of his shock. You whisper an apology and try to explain yourself, but he’s bug-eyed and...blushing?
🐉 He stammers, asking what the hell you were doing to him, and you tell him he has to go back to work, else he sacrifices his sleep. Turning a little red yourself, you narrate the series of events that led up to this point, avoiding his eyes.
🐉 Once your little tale comes to an end, you peek from under your lashes to see Draken still pink in the cheeks, but the edges of his lips were twitching.
🐉 Before you can ask, or maybe apologize, he roughly runs his fingers through your hair, mutters that you’re too adorable for his heart sometimes, then plants a kiss right atop your head. You’re practically a stoplight by the time he gets up again, and relish in the soft fluffy feelings that little gesture brought to your heart.
Haitani Ran:
☠ He and Rindou had gotten themselves into a brawl yet again. This time it was some cheap-shots who wanted to usurp their positions as kings of Roppongi.
☠ The fight didn’t last very long, but one of them managed to land a punch, the knuckles ripping a ridge across Ran’s cheek. He took care of the dude with a swift whack to the temple and sent the bastard skidding across the street.
☠ Much to his amusement, his baton left an imprint on the guy’s forehead, but with how the cold night air bit at his open wound, he thinks he should’ve swung harder. Honestly, the shit Rindou gave him for actually getting hit-in the face, no less-stung more.
☠ As they weaved around neighborhoods, the streets gradually became familiar and Rindou kindly points out that your apartment building is around three blocks away.
☠ Since it was closer, and neither of them really wanted to travel far at 2 in the morning, the brothers knock on your door with absolutely no consideration of you actually being asleep.
☠ Ran fingers your doorbell with all his might, while Rindou raps his busted knuckles against the wood. The younger brother actually left bloodstains on your door, but you’d only find out through a concerned neighbor the following day.
☠ Footsteps stomp towards them, and Ran mentally prepares himself for the beast that is a half-awake you, while Rindou remains blissfully unaware of what’s about to come. That pissant was more trouble than he’s worth.
☠ The door slowly creaks open, revealing you with purple eyebags and a bedhead that could’ve passed as a (h/c) lion’s mane. The brothers freeze, and you glare at them for approximately 30 seconds before gesturing for them to come in.
☠ As could be expected, all the lights are off with blankets haphazardly tossed on the back of your couch. What Ran didn’t expect soon enough, however, was the stacks of abused papers and textbooks atop your coffee table.
☠ Only then does he remember that you have college entrance exams coming up in two days. Suddenly, all of your in-phone complaints flooded his conscience, particularly rants about how sleep-deprived you’ve been for nearly two weeks, hence why you’d been skipping out on date nights.
☠ His heart drops, and now his chest hurts more than the gash on his cheek. He turns to you trudging to him with a first-aid kit, one you had jokingly decorated to look like that of your favorite zombie shooter. The “Haitani starter pack”, you called it.
☠ Whatever mirth that memory conjured was quickly crushed when you sit him down and open the kit. Christ, you’re probably worse off than they are. Your half-open gaze could barely focus on his face, and in your clouded state you’d forgone even turning a light on.
☠ Rindou’s blessedly silent, a fleeting thought suggesting he might’ve fallen asleep already. Sighing, he reaches over to flip the switch on your floor lamp and winces when you squint even more. His whispered apology isn’t answered, and his brows droop.
☠ The smell of disinfectant stings his nostrils, followed by a hotter burn on his injury. Resisting the urge to hiss and dodge the offending cottonball, he opts to take a good look at you.
☠ Behind the fatigue and drowsiness in your eyes, there’s flecks of worry and confusion. Despite how many fights they got into on a regular basis, it’s a rarity to have them come home scathed. Their arrival must’ve frazzled you quite a bit. Ran curses himself and the cosmos to have aligned this with your currently stressful lifestyle.
☠ Silently, he reaches for your vacant hand with both of his, rubbing your knuckles slowly. You finally reciprocate his gaze, and he sees it morph into crystalline forgiveness. It radiates from your eyes like starlight, and it only dug his mistakes deeper in his heart. How did he deserve you?
☠ Strangely, you put down the now-pink cottonball and frame your hands on his cheeks. He’s quick to nuzzle the uncut side of his face on the plushness of your palms, closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them up to your soft smile.
☠ His heart stutters, and his ears start to heat up. Your descent to his face is slow, and inch by inch he burns this image of you in his mind. He keeps his eyes open, curious as to what you might pull, but then...
☠ The tip of your button nose tickles his pointed one, and his composure crumbles like a dry cookie. He becomes a literal stop sign: stiff as hell, and all red up top.
☠ His gaze refuses to break yours though, and Ran thinks to himself that maybe this wasn’t too bad, after all.
#TokyoRev#draken tokyo revengers#Tokyo Revengers#tokyo manji gang#haitani ran#haitani x reader#haitani brothers#haitani ran x reader#haitani rindou#ran haitani#ran haitani x reader#draken x reader#draken x y/n#draken#ken ryuguji#ryuguji ken x reader#tokyo revengers ryuguji ken#tokyo revengers imagines#tokyo revengers scenarios#tokyo revengers fluff#slight angst#unedited
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Teaming Up with Sam and Bucky ft Zemo
Pairing: FEM!Reader; Bucky Barnes x reader, Sam Wilson x reader; platonic(?), let’s throw in some Zemo x reader
Summary: What it would be like to team up with our favorite duo. Takes place during TFATWS.
Warnings: none, TFATWS SPOILERS. Lowkey a mess :D
A/n: Ever since TFATWS came out I’ve been reminded of how much I love Bucky and Sam. Also I have a new found love for Zemo. I’ve just been so obsessed with this series and I’ve been reading so many fics about it, so I decided to finally write my own :) Enjoy my loves❤️
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
✧───── ・ 。゚★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧
You’re basically working with a bunch of children.
The children mostly being Sam and Bucky, though Zemo does have his moments once he joins you three.
You’ve known dumb and dumber for a few years now, being part of the Avengers, you’ve worked with Sam on multiple missions. The friendship blooming somewhere in between.
You were also close friends with Steve; when he first came out the ice, you were assigned to help him adjust to the modern world by Fury. He would tell you a bunch of stories of him and Bucky running into trouble or Bucky always saving his ass whenever he was getting beaten up.
Eventually, you finally got to meet Bucky, though he wasn’t Bucky, he was the Winter Soldier. Your introduction to each other was quite memorable to say the least.
He choked you with that metal arm of his and for a split second you swore you might’ve found it attractive—till he threw your body against a car.
You sided with Cap during the accords and helped him protect Bucky. When that whole mess was over, Steve asked you to stay with Bucky in Wakanda to make sure he would be safe.
You were the first person to have some kind of bond with Bucky. Before and after he was freed from Hydra’s hold on him, you were always someone he knew he could trust.
When Steve told you what he was going to do while retuning the stones he told you to watch over them.
“Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Buck and Sam?” He asked you, sitting on the edge of your bed. He had snuck into your room late at night, knowing you were wide awake.
You squeezed his hand reassuringly, a lazy smile on your lips, “They don’t need me, I’m sure they’re capable of surviving on their own.” Steve breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, “You’d be surprised.”
“But seriously, (y/n), they need you. You know how they get when they’re together. You’re the only person in the world who knows how to deal with the both of them at the same time.” Steve reasons, his baby blues sparkling in the darkness of the guest room of Tony’s lake house.
“Make sure they’re not on the verge of killing each other or running into too much trouble?” You tiredly nod, sleep slowly consuming your body. “I promise, they’re gonna be alright, Steve.”
Sometimes you found yourself looking up at the sky, cursing at it—or Steve—for leaving you with two of the most childish and stubborn men you’ve ever known in your life.
You were like the mother of the group; breaking up fights, making sure they skipped no meals, patching up their boo-boos, etc.
“Will you stop staring at me?” Sam snapped, tossing his goggles onto the seat beside him to glare at Bucky.
“I’m not staring at you.” Bucky remarked from across Sam. His flesh and metal arm crossing with each other as he stared at Sam challengingly.
“Yes, you are. Your eyes are connecting with mine. You’re literally staring at me right now!” Sam pointed out, to which Bucky rolled his eyes at.
“Because I’m talking to you, genius. I wasn’t staring at you.” Bucky quipped.
“Yes you were!”
“No I wasn’t!”
This continued till they were sick of bickering with each other, finally yelling out your name for help.
The arguments were straight up petty. Bucky wouldn’t admit it, but he was the pettiest.
Exhibit 1: “LoOKiNG StrONg jOHn!”
Like seriously? Bucky’s the pettiest bitch, nobody can tell me otherwise.
You and Sam would definitely find it amusing how Bucky doesn’t trust Redwing.
Obviously, you all despise John Walker. Just the thought of him left a bad taste in your mouth.
He was like a fly that you all couldn’t get rid of. But because you were all painfully patient people—mostly you and Sam—you had to deal with his bullshit despite the way he annoyed you all.
Totally loosing your shit when Bucky helps Zemo break himself out of prison.
“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” You groaned, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose together.
Bucky looks at you with feign innocence; his mouth agape and puppy eyes. “I—didn’t do...anything(?).”
“You helped Zemo break out of prison didn’t you?” You crossed your arms at him, hip jutting out. As if on cue, Sokovian sugar daddy walks into the abandoned garage you were all in.
Before you can explode on him, Bucky tried to calm you down, “Wait, I technically didn’t do anything though! It was his plan!”
Zemo definitely lives up to being the ✨Sokovian Sugar Daddy✨ of your dysfunctional group.
I think you’d all be surprised at how rich he was. The amount of connections he had wasn’t that big of a shocker.
No like seriously, homie was pulling all sorts of shit out his ass; cars, private planes, houses in different countries, etc.
You all had a love hate relationship with Zemo. On days when he was actually helpful, you all got a long. On the days when things got horribly messy, Zemo couldn’t even let a word out since Sam would tell him to “shut up”.
Though that still doesn’t excuse the fact that he got the Avengers to spilt up and go against each other.
When you guys are all hiding out in one of Zemo’s apartments or homes, you would probably cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner for everyone.
They actually loved it when you cooked because it made the atmosphere feel a bit homey and calm compared to the current situation you were all in.
You were the person they can all go to. You were easy to talk to, making it easier for them to open up to you.
You always checked in on them mentally and physically. For example, you knew Sam felt guilty about giving up the shield, but Bucky never made him forget about his choice. You were there to reassure him that he thought he was doing the right thing and didn’t know the hidden agenda of the government.
You were like their on the go therapist, babysitter, and partner.
Sometimes Bucky and Sam would even argue for your attention.
“Can you stop hogging (y/n) please? Her ears might fall off from hearing you yap all day.” Bucky said as he gently took your arm and dragged you away from Sam.
“You literally spent the whole day with her yesterday, you’re the one who needs to stop hogging (y/n).” Sam argued, grabbing onto your other arm.
“I didn’t get to spend time with (y/n).” Zemo mentioned from his seat in the kitchen, a glass of whisky in his hand. Bucky simply turned to him and pointed, “NO!”
Honestly what’s a friendship with Bucky and Sam without some harmless flirting. They weren’t gonna lie, you were gorgeous, the most attractive one out of the group.
When you guys had to go undercover at Madripoor, both times with Zemo and Sharon, you had to wear dresses that were a bit revealing. Maybe your chest was a bit shown, but the dress definitely showed off your legs.
“So what do you guys think?” You stopped at the bottom of the stairs of Sharon’s apartment, doing a little spin to show off your outfit.
Both Bucky and Sam’s jaws drop, Zemo probably nodding in approval in the corner.
You can’t forget about the nicknames: maybe doll, sweetheart, or darlin’ from Bucky and the typical Louisiana Cher from Sammy.
While fighting against the Flag Smashers or anyone in general, you guys always had each other’s back.
You could directly be fighting someone, but you’ll naturally have an eye on Sam and Bucky to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them.
It’s a given that you all patch each other up after some fight.
You were all very protective of each other. If there’s one thing Sam and Bucky can agree on, it’s their instinct to protect you.
Like how you kept an eye on them, they also kept their eyes on you. Even though they knew you could hold your own.
“Could you walk?” Sam asked you as you laid on the concrete floor. You were double teamed by a couple of Flag Smashers. Two super soldiers against a normal person, you totally got your ass handed to you.
You pushed yourself up to rest on your elbows, “I’m fine, just got dropped kicked twice, but I’ll be fine.”
Sam smiled at you, “That’s my girl.”
Though the two can be a handful and argue almost every minute, you loved the both of them tremendously. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
🏷 Tags ↴
*If your name has a line through it, it means tumblr won’t let me tag you*
Marvel Cast/ Avengers Tags
↪︎ @ximaginx @lozzypoz321 @sunwardsss @pokemonbong @pjokotlcmarvel201 @whoslili @111111111111111sblog @marvel-is-a-mood @blckyungblood @astroponyo @universemarvel @imthebadguyyy @roseke @bi-myself-forever @httpscarletwitch @millenniumloki @cristin-rjd @swords-are-cool @melaninfalconbucky @deamus-liv @elvish-sky @catsandbooksandsstuff @ellajoy419 @moonlight-babe99
General tags
↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007
#marvel#mcu#avengers#the falcon and the winter soldier#tfatws#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#Bucky Barnes#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson imagine#Sam Wilson#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#Anthony Mackie#anthony mackie imagine#anthony mackie x reader#bucky barnes headcanon#sam wilson headcanon#sebastian stan headcanons#Anthony Mackie headcanons#Zemo#baron helmut zemo#zemo x reader#avengers x reader
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SKZ REACT to...
◈ you being followed
part of my eight as fate event !! ( requested by anon ♡ )
genre/s: comfort, skz x gn reader
warning/s: description of being followed on the street, descriptions / mentions of panic attacks
wc: 1.8k
a/n: this one took me quite a while but i’m happy with it !!! i decided to write out a longer introduction to this to kinda set up a scene !! i hope y’all enjoy it (esp the comforting parts ofc kdjdjf)
it’s somewhat unlike you to walk alone at night. you figured it would only take you a few minutes, but you got out of work late, setting you back quite a while. to make things worse, while you were working overtime, the sun had set, leaving you to traverse the dimly lit city streets on your own. all you know is that your boyfriend left the door open for you, and a couch date sounds really great right now.
somewhere along your walk, you heard a shuffling noise coming from behind you. you disregarded it, thinking it may have been simple paranoia. you’ve seen too many movies, you think. however, as you keep up your leisurely yet steady pace, you hear another noise. this time you turn around.
a man. in a black hoodie. looking you dead in the eye.
your eyes widen as a small gasp leaves your mouth. needless to say, you begin sprinting to your destination, heart racing at a pace that rivals the speed of your feet. with your focus aimed at getting as far away as you can, you’re honestly not even sure how your legs know where they’re going. nevertheless, your saving grace comes into view. after a quick glance at the now empty street behind you, you sprint even faster than before. and, once you make it to the apartment door, you fling the door open and leap inside with enough force to rattle the hinges.
“y/n? what’s wro-”
“i was being followed,” you interject, a choked sob finally escaping you.
◈ CHAN
his first instinct, no matter what, is to make sure you feel safer now.
he’ll sit you down on the couch, staying close beside you and rubbing your back while reiterating that whoever that man was is gone now.
i’ve always liked to think he’d be good to have around in the event of a panic attack. especially if you’re the type of person who needs physical and verbal reassurance. back rubs, hugging, and breathing reminders galore.
once you’ve calmed down, he would wipe away your tears and hold you close to him as he asks you about the rest of your day.
he’s an amazing listener and he can’t wait to hear about the latest employee or customer gossip lmao
but more importantly, it would take your mind off things, which is all he truly wants.
if you start looking a bit gloomy or drifting off in thought, he’d probably suggest some cuddle time !! he would make sure to remind you of how courageous you were in that moment before promising you one last time that you’re safer now, here with him.
you’d finally fall asleep in his arms, filling him with relief.
◈ MINHO
first reaction: absolutely pissed.
not at you of course, but at the guy who was following you. with you still in his arms, he glances pointedly out the front door and the windows, closing the blinds after giving the entire apartment a once-over.you end up in the bedroom, in which he’ll guide you to sit beside him on the bed.
his expression will have completely changed from anger to loving concern. he’d look deeply into your eyes while holding both your hands in his, assuring you that you’re safe now.while you continue to cry, you explain what had happened in more detail. he strokes your hair as you speak and nods along, blood boiling.
he can’t stand the thought of any person making you feel unsafe. but, he’d maintain a calm exterior in order to make you feel more at ease.
once you describe the whole situation, he’d reassure you once again that the man can’t get to you now.
“he’ll have to get through me.”
you giggle.
“hEY”
◈ CHANGBIN
i think he’d have a similar reaction to minho !!
very visibly pissed that some random guy had the nerve to intimidate you. that dude’s lucky he didn’t follow you the whole way home or else he’d probably be pretty uh. damaged. by now..
he’d sit you down on the couch, do a quick check-in at each of the windows and doors, and come back as soon as he can to console you.
when he does, he’s quick to sit beside you, arm wrapped around you with the other wiping the tears off of your face.
after you explain the situation a bit more clearly, he becomes even more angry (probably mutters some curses under his breath)
but !!!! i think he’d really try his best to focus on cheering you up
asking you what you’d like to do for the rest of the night, if you’d like any food, if you’d like to sleep or stay up for a while.. etc.
plus he’d amp up the silly antics to make you forget about things !!
◈ HYUNJIN
i think his physical reaction would become similar to yours. very quickly.
like once he sees your tears and senses your quickened pulse. his immediate response (whether voluntary or not) would be to emulate you.
so, naturally, he’d hold you in his arms and let you cry it out, while small sobs of his own escape him.
seeing you so scared is a scary feeling.
of course, he’d reassure you that you’re safe !!! he’d look into your eyes, tucking your hair behind your ears, and tell you that it’s all over now and that you’re safe.
you, of course, don’t want him to feel sad or scared, so you’d console him as well.
you two would comfort each other the whole rest of the night. i think the most probable option would be the two of you cuddled up in bed watching a movie or reading webtoons together
distraction !! but make it a drama !! or a romcom because .. vibes !!
and when you decide it’s time for bed (however late that may be due to the stress from earlier) he’d be sure to remind you that he’ll be with you all night & when you wake up
(but he’s also secretly clinging onto you out of fear as well kdjfgj)
◈ JISUNG
“oh sh- oh sHIT-”
wouldn’t know what in the fuck to do
would haphazardly check all the windows like minho did, holding your hand as you continue to cry
after he’s done, he’d cling to you and hold you SO very tight <3
lots of “shh shh baby.. baby shhhh” and all that jazz.. you know the sungie vibes…
he’d stroke your hair and arms, noticing your slight shakiness and suggesting you both cuddle for some extra comfort and warmth
no matter what time of night it is, he’d turn off the lights and cuddle with you as you describe the event in more detail
quiet & calm
even if you end up crying again while you speak, he’s there to brush the tears off your face with his thumb and help you calm down again
◈ FELIX
before you came, he might have cooked a small meal for the two of you to share. even though you worked late, it’d still be waiting for you when you arrive. he’d wait too.
when you do happen to burst through the door, he’d jump and gasp out of fear but he’s quick to run up to you and hold you as you let out everything you’d held in during your walk-turned-chase
also !! will help you get settled in as you describe what went down
helping you take off your coat and shoes, getting water for you, grabbing some blankets; all while listening intently and giving you all of his attention
once you’re seated on the couch, wrapped in the softest blanket he could find and staying hydrated after such a harrowing event, he’d be sure to hold you as close as possible to remind you that everything’s okay
eventually, through his subtle gestures and calming demeanor, you won’t even realize how you got situated !! he just knows what to do to make you as comfortable as possible without even trying all that hard
you may choose to skip dinner, but no matter what, he’ll be holding you close the whole night through to make sure you know he’s there to protect and care for you
◈ SEUNGMIN
he’s very methodical about how to proceed. his first instinct is to do what some of the others would and check the house, but he decides to help you calm down first.
you’re rambling about what happened in between sobs and quick breaths, which sends a pain through his heart as he shuts and locks the door.
if you’re shorter than him, he’d bend a little to make direct eye contact with you. he’ll rub your arms and tell you that you don’t have to be afraid anymore
the most calming and reassuring voice in the whole world omg !!!!!!
he’d wipe your tears away and cup your face with both of his hands, prompting you to look back into his eyes before smiling at you
“you’re safe now, right?”
you smile back at him, nodding.
“now, let’s lock all the doors so no bad guys can get in!”
then, he’d take your hand and let you help him lock the doors and shut the curtains, making it feel like a chore instead of a precaution
and for your “good work”, he’d reward you with some binge watching & cuddle time !!! (as if that wasn’t the original plan skjdfg)
◈ JEONGIN
(under his breath, eyes wide) “oh my god…”
i think he’d start freaking out a bit like hyunjin did, but he’d do his very best to hide it. he knows he has to be strong to help you calm down and feel safe.
like felix, he’d help you take off your coat and shoes, leading you over to the couch as you shakily describe what happened.
(i’m sorry i keep making comparisons to the other members bUT) like minho, he’d hold your hands in his, rubbing them softly with his thumbs to soothe your nerves as you let everything out
he’d try to cheer you up by suggesting alternative motives the man might’ve had instead of wanting to harm you
for instance:
jeongin: “what if he was lost and needed directions but he was too shy to ask because you’re so pretty/handsome?”
you: “babe i don’t think-”
jeongin: “OR what if he thought he knew you !!”
you: “but he-”
jeongin: “WHAT IF IT WAS BATMAN-”
overall, his aim is to distract you (as well as himself), which ends in success. you’ll both be in stitches by the end of the night
and… laughing is super tiring, right?
therefore, as reiterated throughout all of these reactions because we all know it’s true:
CUDDLESSSS
oh also.. right before you fall asleep in his arms, he’d ask if you want to leave the light on during the night :( bc he’s a cutie :((((
tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @cyberskz, @seungminsaidsta, @somethingrandomworld, @ethan806 ( join my tag list !! )
©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.
#districtninewriters#inkidz#skzwritersclub#straykidsland#*fics#*8#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz#stray kids#skz reactions#stray kids reactions#skz ot8#stray kids ot8
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Neighbor’s ch.1
Warning: language (sorry if it bothers you all but I usually sing like a sailor and tried holding back a bit more this chapter but there are still some word in here.)
Kinda fluff?
If there are any errors or mistakes please don’t hesitate to let me know :)
Also don’t hesitate to give me some fresh ideas
Thank you,
Love you,
Enjoy!
(Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader)
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It's been a long day for you. As soon as you walked out the door this morning, anything and everything has been going wrong. You were running late and had to skip breakfast, you missed your train, you got scolded by your boss for showing up late, and you even grabbed your least favorite pair of socks. They have a little nub in the corner that always feels super weird on your foot and makes you feel uncomfortable in your body. As the day progressed, nothing got better. You just wanted to come home and cry on your couch while watching Ghibli movies and eating a pint of ice cream for dinner.
You could feel the familiar lump in your throat forming, and your eyes were stinging from holding back your tears. Today was just so frustrating, and all you wanted was for it to be over. The more you thought about it, the heavier your emotion was. Thank God that your shift was finally over with. Looking at the time, you saw that it was 7:30 and you needed to hurry to catch the last train home.
As you headed home, you could feel your feet dragging behind you, sniffling and letting some tears fall. You finally reach your complex and continue walking to your apartment door.
A man is standing by the railing near your apartment door. He has a cigarette hanging from his lips. Taking a second to lean away from the railing, he pulls a hairband from his wrist and gathers his long ebony hair pulling it back into a messy bun. He looks a little disheveled: wearing some black slacks to pair with his black V-neck shirt.
You can see some cardboard boxes packed around him as well. It takes you a second to realize that the apartment next to yours has been vacant for weeks now. Mrs. Honda, your landlady, might've finally found an occupant.
Great. Your first impression to your neighbor is going to be when you're a total mess. That's just fan-fucking-tastic.
You try to compose yourself as you make your way closer to your apartment, and it isn't working too well. The man picks up your movement and gives you a gaze as he flicks the built-up ashes of the end of his cigarette.
You give a bit of a nod and mumble a quiet hello as you make your way closer to your apartment. You fumble through your purse, trying to find your key card for your door. Huffing in frustration, you realize that you most likely locked it in your apartment. 'This day just can't get any better,' you think to yourself.
You dig through your purse and grab your wallet, pulling out a dunking donuts gift card. You attempt to fiddle it in-between your door and the frame. You were struggling as you fiddled with the handle of the door. You are just about to try and kick down the door before a voice interrupts you.
"Aren't burglars supposed to be good at picking locks?"
You look over to see the man leaning back on the rail, amused at your feeble attempt to break into your own apartment.
Flustered, you stumble to find your words. "Ah well, you see... this is actually my apartment. I just locked my card inside. I was running late this morning and didn't have time for breakfast. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and it probably is a reason why I forgot my card. And my boss didn't make it any better by being such an asshole-" you glance at the man again and compose yourself. "I'm so sorry. You don't need to know all that. It's just been a long day," you sigh.
"Hey, I get it. It's been similar for me. I usually don't smoke, but it's been a bit of a rough day, so I thought I deserved a bit of a break," he signals to the cigarette intertwined between his fingers.
"I would offer you one, but I take you as the type who doesn't smoke."
"After the day I had, I am very tempted for any sort of relief" you sigh and drop your bag, joining him over by the railing.
Lazily putting the cigarette back in-between his lips, he extends his hand out to you. "Shouta Aizawa, I guess I'm your new neighbor."
You reciprocate and put your tiny hand in his "(F/N L/N, it's nice to meet you. Sorry, you had to see me when I'm such a mess."
"If this is you when you're a mess, I'd love to see how you are normally," he says.
Both you and Aizawa chit chat a bit before a gust of wind flows by you, making you shiver and cover your arms to receive it a bit. I guess he picks up on it because he offers you to come inside his apartment for a cup of tea.
"If that makes you uncomfortable, though, you are more than free to refuse. I won't take any offense," Aizawa says as he stubs out the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray he has sitting on a cardboard box.
"I'll take you up on your offer" you smile. "Just to let you know, though, I judge harshly when it comes to people's tea-making abilities."
"noted," he chuckles as he holds the door open for you with one arm while holding the box in the other.
You both chat for hours. Talking about anything and everything, you learned that he is a teacher at UA. Commending him at his accomplishment for having a job at such a prestigious school, but he doesn't seem to be interested in his accomplishment. Even with all of the talking, he seems like he isn't too interested in talking about his own life but more interested in finding more information about yours.
It's sweet, but you would like to know more about the man in front of you. You are surprised with how comfortable you are with him. He is a little intimidating. He's got this dark and broody sort of personality, and that's disregarding his looks. This man is the definition of sexy.
You are just admiring him and all of his details while he is sipping on the chamomile tea he made for you both. You notice the scar that's on his left cheekbone, and you're tempted to run your fingers across it. He also had some pretty prominent eye bags. You usually think eye bags are unattractive. That's ever since you developed some from working overtime at your job. Waking up and seeing the dark circles under your eye made you feel so insecure. Looking at Aizawa though, you can't help but find them beautiful. They add to his charm a bit, and you realize he most likely has them from putting in so much effort into his work. His dedication is more than admirable.
You take your time basking in him, thinking to yourself, "why is he so goddamn pretty?"
Only to realize that his expression changes, and you just said that out loud. Flustered, you try and explain yourself, "Sorry, I just- I didn't- God, this is embarrassing."
He grins. "Never would have thought I would be described as 'pretty. Usually, I get 'jaded' or 'dull.'"
"Really?" you say, shocked. "But you're so handsome?"
"With these dry eyes, thanks, but I don't need any pity compliments" you go to defend yourself but are interrupted by him.
"speaking of dry eyes," he rummages through his pockets. "Where did I put them?" he questions before picking up a box and setting it on the counter, rummaging through it.
"What are you looking for?" you question.
"Just eye drops, I get some pretty mean dry eye, so I usually have some on hand," he huffs.
"Well, I don't think you are going to find them in there," you nervously laugh.
"Why not? I'm pretty sure I put them in here."
"Do you... um usually put your eye drops in with uh- your butt plugs?" you question
"My what?" he stares incredulously, and you respond by pointing to the scribbled sharpie written on the side of the box. He flips the box around to see written in big bold letters' Aizawa's Butt Plugs FRAGILE'.
"Hizashi," he quietly sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Hey, it's totally okay. I don't kink shame here. I would just say its a little unsanitary to put your eye drops with-"
"I don't have but plugs," he quickly says. "I have never once owned but plugs; it's just my coworker is a piece of shit and doesn't know how to stay out of someone else's stuff."
"I like his humor. Seems like my kind of person," you chuckle.
"You would eat your words if you met him in person. He is kind of a loud person," he sighs as he continues to dig through the box. "Finally," he puffs as he pulls out a small little bottle. Unscrewing the top, he attempts to drop some in his eyes but misses.
Some mumbled swears later, and you offer, "Would you like some help?"
"only if you're comfortable though," you add on.
"Could you? I can usually get it first try since I do it so often" he hands you the tiny bottle. You look around and move to sit on the counter, waving him over to come in-between your legs. You cup his face as if it were a natural thing you would do on a day-to-day basis without even thinking. You have your thumb laying on his cheekbone, and you drag it over his scar, feeling some of the grooves and divots within it. He leans a bit into your hand as you caress the scar, but you realize you are getting a little carried away and continue. Dropping a couple of drops in each eye, he sighs in relief.
"Thanks," he says with a smile. You both look into each other's eyes before you cough and look over at the time to see it is already 1 am. He follows your gaze.
"Wow, have we really been talking that long?" you question. "I've probably more than overstayed my welcome" with a laugh, you hop off the counter and stand under his gaze. "Thank you so much for listening to me and being such a wonderful host. I should probably head back over though" you point to the direction of your apartment. "You might if I use your balcony to hop on over?" You ask.
"Sure," he breaks from his trance. Leading you to the balcony, you throw your bag over the railing to your side and follow in suit. He gives his hand and aids you over the railing to your side.
With a thankful smile, you give a quick thanks and goodnight. But before you go in, they capture your attention once again.
Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, he says, "just so you know, you're welcome here anytime you get locked out again, or even if you don't get locked out."
You smile. "I'll take you up on that, but you might get tired of me pretty fast." You open the back door and make your way into your apartment, but before you close the door, you hear him say
"I doubt it."
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motion sickness — 7
rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: dreamnotfound genres/tags: friends to lovers, fluff and angst, pining, flirting, friendship, misunderstandings word count: 1011 summary: No. No, no, no, no. George pushes himself away from the desk, rising up out of his chair to go to the other side of his room. No. There’s no way. No way at all.
Except there is. Except he is.
George collapses onto his bed with a groan. He’s in love with Dream.
Great.
+ao3 +masterpost
;;
The call ends and before Clay can even think about what he’s doing, his fingers are flying across his keyboard, eyes tracking over maps and prices and routes and weather and is his favorite hoodie clean? Where’d he put his tennis shoes the other day?
The flight’s booked after only five minutes, zero deliberation, zero thought—Clay’s never been one for hesitation, and he’s not going to start treading with caution now.
;;
He’s aching all over when the plane lands, his knees hurting, neck tired, but the gratitude he feels when he steps off isn’t inspired by his freedom. He stretches, then pulls out his phone, opening up Discord and immediately going to his and George’s conversation. George, he texts, and then—
“Hello?” George’s voice comes tired through the phone.
Clay grins, only slightly manic, as he says: “I’m in England.”
George’s reply comes a lot more awake: “No.”
“I’m kind of stranded at the airport now, actually. I don’t—I might’ve been a bit impulsive.”
“You’re not,” George says. “You’re not in England. Shut up. You’re—no.”
“No?” The smile has dropped from Clay's face, but his heart is pounding and he’s filled with an emotion that isn’t negative (it’s not positive either, maybe adrenaline, shit).
“No. I’m not doing this with—no, Dream.”
Clay glances to the side to see a bench only a couple paces away, and he makes his way over to it where he collapses onto the metal seat. “George,” he tries, “you’re telling me you don’t want to meet me?”
“I do want to meet you, Dream,” George says, earnest, and Clay bites back a fond smile at the words, “but not like this. What about Sapnap?”
“What about him?” Clay asks. “This is—George, c’mon, do something spontaneous for once in your life!”
“How do you know I’ve never done anything spontaneous?” George says. “I’ve committed fraud. I’m a scammer.”
“Eating someone else’s meal because it was accidentally delivered to you is not the criminal record you think it is,” Clay tells him.
George scoffs. “Whatever, idiot.” A beat. “Are you even in England? You could be lying to me. You’re a serial liar, you know.”
“So are you,” Clay replies, and then the overhead speakers come on, and Clay just lets the words go through the phone, to George’s ears, a verification of where he is.
“You fucking ass!” George sounds truly furious, even as Clay hears movement, the shuffling of clothes, jeans being pulled onto skinny legs, the small noise of George smacking himself in the face with the back of his arm as he pulls, what Clay is sure to be, a sweater on over his head. “You’re so annoying. I hate you.”
“You’re coming to get me, though, right?”
“Yes, you fucking—ugh! Idiot.”
Clay’s smile returns full force. “But I’m your idiot.” But by then, George has hung up, and Clay just declared to Heathrow Airport that he’s George’s idiot. Oh my God. He is an idiot.
Not just for that—well, yes for that, but also because he just took a plane to meet up and stay with someone who’s in love with him for who knows how fucking long and… does Clay love him too? Clay loves George, yeah, but like that? He doesn’t know.
;;
George scans the faces that pass as he walks into the airport, uncertain if he’d even know which face belongs to Dream when he sees it. He’s about to call, ask for a selfie, for Dream to tell him where to go, for something, when he sees someone sitting on a bench a few steps away, staring down at the phone in his hands. It’s him. George knows it is.
Dream looks up then, and George can’t breathe. He’s not even, like, that attractive—not a model, not going to be advertising Calvin Klein, nothing—but shit, he’s still gorgeous, dirty blond hair falling loosely over his left eye, cropped short in the sides and back, broad, even at this angle, George can tell he’s broad, and his legs are stretched out in front of him, and (again) shit, George knew he was tall, but a skip in his heart starts up when he realizes he’ll actually have to tilt his head back to meet Dream’s eyes.
And then someone shoves past George and it’s like a gun’s been fired, Dream jumping up and practically running at him, but it’s okay because George is running too, and then they’re face-to-face, mere centimeters between them, and George is reaching his arms up to wrap around Dream’s neck (he’s not even a hugger, what the fuck), Dream’s arms coming around George’s waist and their eyes lock for the shortest second before George is burying his face in Dream’s collarbone, and Dream has his nose tucked in the hair behind George’s ear. His breath tickles every time he exhales.
“George,” Dream whispers, and George holds on even tighter.
Finally, the heat, the feeling of Dream’s palms spread wide on his back (a brand, possessive, burning), the exhibitionist nature of such blatant affection in a public place—everything—makes George take a step back, arms falling from their place, Dream’s hold on him loosening then falling away completely.
“I,” George starts, but his voice comes out all wrong, squeaking and awkward, so he takes a breath and tries again. “I don’t have a place for you. To sleep, I mean. You… there’s the couch?” And then he lifts his gaze to meet Dream’s eyes, and yeah, Dream is not going to fit on his couch. “Do you even have any money?”
Dream smiles at him, head-tilted slightly, eyes squinted—sweet.
George frowns. “Oh my God. Okay. You can... I don't have a—could you maybe—," and he doesn't want to give up his bed, the last thing he wants to do is give up his bed, he's not going to, "—you could take the bed? I can stay on the couch for awhile."
Fuck.
When he glances up at Dream again, he’s still wearing a smile, though this time it’s more genuine, less of a Get Out of Jail Free card. “It’s fine,” he says. When he speaks, his voice is soft, placative. George doesn’t like it. “I can stay on the couch. It’s your place anyway, man.”
George isn’t sure how to feel. He leads the way out the airport anyway, letting the moment pass.
;;
At his apartment, there’s not much to say. Dream has his belongings, a suitcase packed for an indeterminate length, and George has no guest room. Dream sets his suitcase against the wall in the living room. George supposes it’s fine. It’s not like anyone is coming over any time soon, anyway.
Dream collapses sideways onto the couch, and as expected, he doesn’t fit.
H’m. George wasn’t expecting anyone to come over today either. He’s not really one for having guests.
Of course it’s Dream who ends up the exception.
;;
next
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▲ ICHIRUKI (also that edit!!!! my heart!!!!!)
Unpopular Opinion #1: I really dislike the notion that’s been built up in the fandom that Ichigo and Rukia understand each other perfectly just through eye contact and that they don’t need to talk (and certainly not about their feelings!) because they’re soulmates and uwu just so perfect for each other. Because that’s bullshit, and it’s just not borne out by how they act in the text.
They’re incredibly damaged people who heal each other and develop a very deep and intuitive understanding of each other, but they clearly didn’t always have that understanding and even once they do, they remain somewhat codependent on each other. The clearest evidence of that understanding taking time to develop is the prelude to the Grand Fisher fight, when Rukia is chastising herself after Ichigo says he killed his mother. Then she comes back and gives her speech:
Ichigo famously parrots this back at Isshin later. Like, my dudes, it is unambiguously right there in black and white: they still need to communicate complex shit verbally. They’re good at reading one another’s emotional states and knowing when things are wrong with each other… but they aren’t psychic. They still need to talk. And that is why whenever Ichigo is in a funk, Rukia gives a speech to snap him out of it: she talks to him.
And I feel like this perception is fueled by the fact Kubo went out of his fucking way to separate them as much as possible within the pages of his manga and to ignore most of the time they did have together to talk because it got in the way of shounen-y things or whatever other bullshit explanation he might’ve had.
A whole month of Rukia’s two months in Ichigo’s closet, including his 16th birthday? Not shown.
Ichigo staying in Soul Society for a week, presumably around Rukia rather than his friends? Not shown.
Ichigo and Rukia’s day together after her return from Soul Society before the fight with Grimmjow? Not shown.
Ichigo and Rukia in the aftermath of Ichigo regaining his Shinigami powers in the Xcution arc? Not shown.
Ichigo and Rukia training in the Soul King’s Palace together? Not shown.
Ichigo and Rukia in the immediate aftermath of the war? Not shown.
They had an awful lot of time to just talk. And they presumably did talk, given for example that Ichigo knew Rukia would be at Kuukaku’s house if she wasn’t in Soul Society—he had to have some idea about Kaien, and that means she must’ve told him about him. But we didn’t see it.
Because Kubo is a wuss and refused to let anyone interact for any reason, but especially not people who’d talk for hours and hours due to having a natural and easy interpersonal connection. (The live-action movie is canonical as to how Ichigo and Rukia’s downtime would’ve gone down, fight me.)
Unpopular Opinion #2: In a related fashion, a lot of people in fandom say they’re not the kind of people to outright say “I love you” to one another. And while that is admittedly a very Japanese position to take (as saying “aishiteru” is considered really dramatic) I would counter by saying that Ichigo and Rukia very much are the D R A M A T I Q U E sorts who would do exactly that.
Like, come on, they met with Ichigo kicking Rukia in the ass, Rukia drawing a mustache on Ichigo’s face, and Rukia stabbing Ichigo through the heart to transfer her soul powers to him after he cracked some sexual innuendo like “Let’s do it.” Then there’s Ichigo’s various arrivals in the Soul Society arc, and Rukia’s arrivals at the start of the Arrancar, Hueco Mundo, and Xcution arcs to pay him back, which are all dramatic as fuck. It’s always spectacle with them around each other, and they can’t seem to help it.
Oh, but it’d be too dramatic for them to say “I love you”? As if. They’re precisely the kind of people to spring “I love you,” on each other in a society where that doesn’t happen often, just like they almost instantly skip to being on a first-name basis and start up that rumor mill. They would just need some time to come around to it.
I originally wrote here that: “(The Leia/Han thing from The Empire Strikes Back of “I love you,” and “I know,” would fit perfectly at the end of chapter 423, in either configuration, and you cannot convince me otherwise.)” I instead went and made it and gave it its own post, but you can have it again:
Tell me this does not work. Tell me it does not feel canonical. Tell me it doesn’t feel like them. And I’ll call you a bloody liar for your troubles!
Unpopular Opinion #3: They’re both switches. Neither is a defined top or bottom, sub or dom. (And to be honest, I pretty much hate the whole concept/trope in fandom for all ships that each party must be one defined thing.)
This is more of a Rukia-specific note but she tries to be so put-together and in-control all of the time that the idea that her thing is being in charge strikes me as weird; she’d seem just as if not more likely to have a kink of losing or giving up control (and being coaxed/made to forget her responsibilities/past as part of the act) simply because it was novel.
Meanwhile, on a more Ichigo specific note... Shirosaki/Hichigo/Zangetsu is basically Ichigo’s id and has a real thing for being The King and riding “a horse,” and you’re gonna tell me Ichigo’s an innocent bottom? Nah. I think Ichigo’s a little shy and seems fairly close to demisexual if anything, but he is also still clearly interested in women (as Yoruichi, Rangiku, and Tenjirou of all people could attest) and I think given what we see of Zangetsu, he would be pretty eager to learn.
(I would probably call them both demisexual overall. But they’re switches.)
Unpopular Opinion #4: This is IchiRuki-tangential, but I cringe when people write Byakuya as disapproving of Ichigo in particular or IchiRuki in general for the sake of petty drama. Post-Soul Society, Byakuya is absolutely Ichigo’s biggest booster other than Rukia (ahead of Isshin, Karin, Yuzu, Orihime, Chad, Uryuu, Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro, Kisuke, Yoruichi, Juushirou, Shunsui, et alia).
Dude did his best to kill Tsukishima, who he thought was a mentor-figure at the time, because he wanted to hurt Ichigo. He would be fucking thrilled, in his severely understated and conservative Byakuya way. The omake material with Byakuya getting Ichigo a lifetime meal pass in Soul Society is another example of this.
Other than Rukia there is no one more likely to start singing “Number One,” and you can’t tell me he wouldn’t support them given that. I feel this should also broadly be reflected in most AU settings because it’s pretty fundamental to Byakuya’s development as a character.
Unpopular Opinion #5: This one is for the Bleach community at large, and I’ll say it real simply: there isn’t a single plot point or sequence of events in the rest of the pile of shit that is Bleach that works one bit without Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship as the lynchpin holding it all up. There is no manga without them and their interactions.
It is, as I have said before, functionally more of a supernatural romance than an urban fantasy because of this. IR is like, the goddamn Higgs field of Bleach: it gives everything else mass.
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Scars: Year five, Chapter one
Remus Lupin x Reader
Warnings: Cursing, fighting, yelling,
“ Mummy?"
" Yes?"
" I wanna be a boy."
" Oh- dear are you sure?"
" Yeah, I don't like being a girl. Being a boy sounds better to me."
" Oh, Ok dear. What, what would you like your name to be? If you could make it a boys name."
" Ky." ____________________________
Who put the baby in charge
" The sofa then the stairwell my child."
It's already hard, To buy all the parts
" No no, you missed a spot."
Who put,
" yes ma'am..."
The world on my back and not in my hands,
" You're not done."
Just give me a chance,
" Yes ma'am..."
I listen to my momma, Listen to my dad,
" Sweep next or no bed again tonight."
Everybody answers shit I didn't ask,
" Yes madam."
Think I'm reaching my limit...
" Can I exhale, for a minute?"
" Not until your work is done." ____________________________
" Mum can Sirius and I go out to the field and play quidditch with the other kids for a bit before we leave for the station?"
" Yes James." ____________________________
" Mum do you have anymore of your homemade biscuits left? Dad made me skip again."
" Yes my child." ____________________________
" Okay Remus, this is the first time you'll be seeing your girlfriend. Wear something nice for a change please."
" Mare!" ____________________________
" Your clothes are hanging on you."
" Yeah well who's fault is that Frank?" ____________________________
Remus Lupin walked through platform 9 3/4, almost immediately spotting three of his best friends, James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. They all engulfed Remus in a hug that lasted for what felt like a lifetime but had only been a minute.
Once they pulled apart, the group began to look around. " Where's Y/n at? Normally she's here before any of us."
James turned around, hands on his hips, and stared Remus and Sirius in their eyes, awkwardly saying, " I- I don't know... she never answered any of our letters so I don't know what happened either. Let's just, we should probably go put our stuff up before we go and finish looking for her."
Sirius glanced around at James and Remus toyed with a book in his hand.
" Okay fine. But the train leaves in ten so we'll have to be quick and thorough."
The group of boys set off to move their luggage into the Mauraders train compartment. Sirius could see the silhouette of a person through the doors glass and went to open the door, ready to kick somebody's ass out of their seat. But what he didn't expect was to see Y/n pulling one of Remus's sweaters on over her head when he opened the door.
Remus watched Y/n as she pulled on the sweater of his. He watched how it moved down the figure of her body and how it fit her a more than before, she had grown over the summer.
The girl looked as if the muscle had been stripped off her bones, she looked like Sirius had in third year.
" Y/n, uh- wha- What happened to you, over the summer? You didn't answer any of our letters or anything and you look so, stretched."
The girl stayed silent as she grabbed her things and stuffed them into a duffel bag, threw it into the corner seat and sat down beside it, arms crossed obviously ignoring James' question.
The boys stood and stared at her for a moment before Peter shuffled in and put his things up before he pulled a tin of his mother's homemade biscuits out and handed them to Y/n timidly. The girl finally sat up and accepted the tin. She opened it and pulled out a small handful of the biscuits and tried to give them back to Peter to which he said no to, making her put them back for herself.
She nodded her head up to the boy in a thankyou and he nodded back. ____________________________
Remus watched as Y/n walked back into the compartment after changing and saw how she sat back down, still not a word said from her. He watched as she sat, her legs propped up on the wall, her body sprawling on the seat under them. Her legs seemed longer and more sticklike.
She looked like Remus had up until their fourth year. ____________________________
When the train came to an end the girl still hadn't spoken a word or answered any of their questions.
Yet, as they walked out and entered the carriages Y/n had looked to both sides of it to check for something before she slumped back into her seat with a long exaggerated sigh. The girl moved her head to the side and crossed her arms, looking out the window. " Sorry I never answered your letters, um, my dad's a muggle so he didn't understand the whole concept of using owls to deliver letters."
Remus gaped at her attempt at a passing lie and Sirius scoffed, arms folded.
" Yeah fucking right Y/n. Cut the shit, what the hell happened to you that caused you to stay silent the whole summer?!"
Y/n, who usually flinched at such harshness filling somebody's voice, quickly moved forward and yanked Sirius's tie forward to pull him closer. By then she'd pulled him up to her, their faces close. The girl examined his facial expressions for a moment. Before she asked, her voice full of anger and coldness,
" I dun'know Sirius, why don't you try being locked up in a house in the middle of a mountain range for the whole of a GodDamned summer and see how much bloody human contact you get! I'll happily wait and see the outcome asshole."
As she finished off her sentence she shoved the boy back into his seat with such a force he was shocked.
The Y/n they knew had never been the violent type. ____________________
Y/n's antics had gotten slightly better after her outburst.
However she still acted like an ass.
But one with good intentions,
Most of the time. ____________________________
The boys began to notice that the girl was anger fueled.
With everything she did, they could see her motivation.
Anger.
Pure, white-flamed rage.
But they had no clue as to what had sparked the fire behind her heart.
Funnily enough, she also spent more time doing schoolwork in the library with some Hufflepuff dickwad named Chad.
She also seemed to be drifting away from her friends as well. Spending less time with them at meals and more at the Hufflepuff table laughing and talking with Chad Williams. She stopped crashing in their dorm after pranks, stopped hanging around in the dorm with Remus after classes and in the mornings, she stopped singing into hairbrushes with Sirius at three o'clock on Saturdays and she stopped song-writing, drum-playing and guitar-strumming with James. She stopped eating snacks and having meaningful conversation with Peter in the kitchens at 2 A.M.
All her time was spent with the Hufflepuff dickwad Chad. Who by the way, was being toxic. In a very unnoticeable way to the outside person.
Of course Y/n didn't think so.
She merely thought that when he talked his arse off about all the people that he hated and how he seemed to trash talk the Mauraders during half their conversations that he was still upset about that prank from third year. She thought that when she defended her friends Chad was steering her in the correct direction by explaining to her all of their wrong-doings.
James, Sirius, Remus and Peter saw how he had been manipulating their friend and tried to show Y/n that.
Which brings us to the point below. ____________________________
James stood pacing the Mauraders dorm room as Sirius stood staring at Y/n's previous place by the door and Peter sat next Remus on his bed while the taller boy sat numb. Throughout all of their minds they shared the same thoughts.
The words that had came out of Y/n's mouth before she left the room in a fury and why things had to go down the way they did.
" Y/n just listen to us! We're trying to bloody help you, can't you see that or are you too blinded by whatever's fueling your fucking madman rampage to see what's right before your eyes?!?!"
" I don't fucking care James! You're being like everybody else in my life and trying to take away the things that make me happy! He makes me happy James, He understands me James, He Bloody Fucking Cares James!!"
" What about us then? What about all we've fucking been through? Are you just going to sit back and pretend like none of that happened Y/n?! All we've been through together, it used to be us Y/n. We used to be a team Y/n, We used to be your family Y/n, WE used to be Your GodDamned Family Y/n! Did we not care enough or did you decide that a bloody prick from Hufflepuff made you feel more at home than we did?! Did Mr. Charlie Chadington Williams remind you of poor mummy and dad or did we just stop being your family? Because I'd really like to know the answer to that L/n."
" James, you can't be taking this there. That's not what this is fucking about James!"
" Oh yeah, because it really is Y/n. You leave and go home for one bloody fucking summer and now suddenly you're this toxic person who's addicted to anger and rage, who turned her back on the people who had literally kept her alive through her recent life, WHO WATCHED HER BECAME A BLOODY JACKASS AND I'M STARTING TO RETHINK WHY WE EVEN TRY TO HELP YOU Y/N!"
" You bloody bastard... I never stopped seeing you guys as who you are. I stopped seeing people as they claim to be! And yeah James, I might've changed how I act but THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M TO BLAME! YEAH SURE JAMES, MY PARENTS WERE BLOODY SHIT PEOPLE AND THEY'RE TOXIC AS FUCK BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M BLOODY ATTRACTED TO PEOPLE LIKE THEM! I NEVER STOPPED CARING AND I NEVER FORGOT ABOUT THE SHIT WE'VE BEEN THROUGH I JUST LEARNED A FEW NEW THINGS! But if you're going to be like that then I'll just bloody leave so you don't get any of my 'toxic-ism' on your freshly bought clothing that mummy dearest ironed to perfection with her love and joy."
The four boys in the room came to wish that the girl had just yelled at them more instead of walking out of the room and most likely their lives as well.
James, Sirius, Remus and Peter sat in tenseness, their backs pressed against the door of their dorm side by side, for hours. James had lost count after the fifth. Until a knock sounded at the door.
Not a single one of them made a move to advance towards the door's handle.
Soon however, a voice reached out to them from the other side, a voice they knew all too well. Y/n's. But her voice was no longer filled with hate and fury, rage and passion.
It was filled with the sincerity of a person on their deathbed, her voice was low and full of guilt, sorrow and anguish. Remus noticed that it was the same tone of voice she had talked in when telling him about her parents and home life. They felt her knock again and they felt her slide down against the door like they'd done only mere hours ago.
" James was right... I was a prick to you all. You never deserved any of my toxic antics and I should've listened to you guys..."
They could feel the crack in her voice and the rigid truthfulness when she next spoke. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter had been previously crying and they could feel her body shudder through the wooden of the door separating them as her chest heaved with silent tears.
" I'm sorry, and you don't need to say it back. There was nothing you said that you should apologize for."
The four boys sat in silence as her words sunk into their brain, minds and skin.
" I get it if you want nothing to do with me anymore... I'll be leaving so you can sleep now."
James shoved the three other boys off of the door and opened it so fast afterwards that Y/n didn't even have a moment's notice before being engulfed into an embrace by James Potter himself that hurt her already bruised sides as he cried into her hair and held her body flush against his muscled one, in relief that his baby sister had returned home to him after all those months of being back at hers. ____________________________ __________________________ Drop a vote, drink some water, eat some food and remember You are Loved! ^ - ^
#remuslupin#remuslupinxreader#the mauraders#harry potter#james potter#james potter x reader#remus john lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin smut#remus Lupin#siriusblackxreader#siriusblack#sirius black#jamespotter#james x lily#lily potter#lily evans#peter pettigrew#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#moony padfoot prongs and wormtail
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Fraxus Anastasia au #3
Fic under the cut ! Or on ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144866/chapters/57301969)
"Yoooo!!!!" Bickslow yells and immediately Laxus ? Yuliy ? gets snapped out of his stupour and pushes himself away from Freed, too aware of how close they had been. He can't shake the feeling of the man's breath hitting his ear like so, the ghost sensations leaving the tips of his ears burning.
"Sup fellas", Bickslow says as he strolls into the room, a woman somewhat reluctantly following him. "I brought an assortiment of snacks that could be classified as a fancy dinner if you aren't all that picky and I'm kind of counting on that." He winks at the both of them before plopping down on some couch and throwing the bag on a table. "Feast my underlings, your king has provided for you."
"I hate you", the woman spits out before turning her glare towards him. "And who is this fool?"
The fool himself would like to know too. With a lazy drawl in his voice, Freed joins the conversation. "His name is Laxus, you might've heard of him." The too large piece of chicken that Bickslow was trying to force into his mouth drops to the floor and the woman raises a single brow. "Right and my name's Evergreen Strauss." Picking the chicken leg back up from the floor, Bickslow points it at her. "I mean, it could be. It ain't that hard to add Strauss to it, all you gotta do is ask your boyfriend to become your h-u-s-b-a-n-d."
"Shut up, he isn't my boyfriend", she snaps before turning her attention back to the blond. "Laxus huh?" He shrugs. "Your friend is trying to sell it to me as well. Currently, I'm not believing him." A single smile slips past her guarded façade. "Good, you shouldn't. He's a pompous piece of shit." While Freed mildly protests her assessment of him in the background, Evergreen shoves Bickslow off the couch and seats herself on it. After extracting the couch from Bickslow, she takes the bag of snacks as well.
Patting on the empty spot next to her, she offers him to sit next to her. "Sit down and have a snack." Turning towards the other two men, she sticks out her tongue. "Bitches don't deserve anything, so don't even bother to ask." (Later on she ends up giving them more than enough.)
"I'm guessing these two have been awfully mean to you."
"No, it's mainly been Freed." The man in question makes an offended noise at this, but Laxus (he likes the name, okay? It's not like it's forbidden to use it. There are people with weirder names out there and he's an orphan so he has the right to choose) isn't done throwing him under the bus. As soon as the next opportunity arrives, he'll do it again.
Evergreen sighs at that and flicks Freed's forehead. 'You rude selfserving bitch, leave people alone." The man in question grumbles a little bit before dramatically flopping down onto the carpet. "Fine then. Oppress me even more." With a gentle smile Evergreen relays the following kind message to him. "Well, with the way you act, you deserve to be."
For a while no one says anything, but Laxus feels more than sees multiple pairs of eyes gliding all over his form. "If there's anything you guys want to say, just spit it out. You're creeping me out with the staring." Awkwardly Bickslow turns his head away as though he hadn't been staring (he's not a very convincing actor). Evergreen however isn't so inclined and continues to look at him, head a bit cocked. "Don't take it personal please, I'm merely assessing how big the chance is that you're our Laxus."
He lets her stare, opting to distract himself by fishing his necklace from shirt and twirling the dainty key attached to it between his fingers, trailing over the letters 'together in Paris' engraved in the tiny thing. The movement catches the attention of the three around him and while Bickslow is busy chocking on his chicken leg, Freed gives the other two a smug glance. "Shut up", Evergreens snaps before he can even opens his mouth, but the young man can't help but shrug cheekily. "Alright Ever dearest." At the open mockery, she decides to try suffocating him with a pillow. She doesn't succeed but the scene does draw a smile from Laxus.
After the bout of tomfoolery, Evergreen plops back unto the couch and shoos Laxus off it. "Fellas", she says addressing Bickslow and Freed more than him. "Tomorrow we'll be starting our journey to Paris. What do we do with him?" This time, she does address him, eyes boring into his soul.
"What does he want?" Freed hummed, faux-nonchalance painted across his figure. "Not that it really matters, I mean, our fourth train ticket is for prince Laxus and this young man says he isn't him. We can't take him with us", the man says, checking his nails and refusing to even spare Laxus a glance. The way he talks over him as though he isn't there grates on his nerves and he grits his teeth together. "I am him, that's what you said. Or are you going to take back your words now?"
"I am convinced, but are you?" The man's grin is infuriatingly patronizing and he tuts a bit at Laxus as though he's a child unable to make his own decisions. "I am the prince, alright? So my dearest subject", he smiles, spite colouring his words, "Shut the fuck up."
Holding his hands up as though Laxus' reaction wasn't perfectly reasonable, Freed sighs. "Oh prince of my heart, please do control your emotions. Such a blatant display of discontent is quite unsightly." Snorting, Evergreen gives Laxus a few pats on his shoulder. "I like you, please continue pissing him off. You're a good one Laxus."
Rolling his eyes, Freed lays down on the discoloured carpet beside the couch. "Our dearest future tsar is indeed quite lovely. I'm sure I'll dream of nothing but him", Freed taunted, eyes dragging across Laxus' entire form, a wicked grin playing along his lips. When their eyes inevitably met, Freed dragged out the words, "Nothing but my dearest prince", obnoxiously popping the 'p'. "Goodnight!" the man wished him with a wide, insincere smile before he wished Evergreen and Bickslow the same, fondness turning both his expression and voice kinder. It was a bummer that he couldn't be decent to Laxus like that. Wasn't that something akin to a capital crime?
"We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning, so you should try to catch some shut-eye as well", Bickslow explains before crashing right on top of Freed, who lets out a disgruntled little "oof". Evergreen curls up on the couch and Laxus awkwardly scans the room from his position on the floor. With a tired sigh he lays down unto the carpet as well, leaving a few feet between himself and the mass of limbs that's Freed and Bickslow. He doesn't want to get entangled with that.
Waking up, Laxus instinctively knows he's failed his resolution from the previous day. He's utterly engulfed in warmth and despite the hair in his mouth that's most definitely not his own, he decides to simmer in the heat for a while. Unused to the sensation, he draws the heatsource closer. In return his personal heater hums a little before tightening his arms around Laxus.
The little detail that throws him off though, is the insistent snickering around him. Reluctantly he opens his eyes and after blinking a few times to adjust to the light he looks at the being entrapping him.
It's Freed, because of course it is the most aggravating bastard on this unholy earth that has decided to interrupt his perfectly peaceful sleep. "Bitch", he mutters before looking up to meet the curious gazes of Bickslow and Evergreen. "Now that's a bit uncalled for baby", Bickslow judges and Laxus ignores him in favour of collecting a pillow from the couch. "It's time for him to wake up too, right?" Evergreen gives him a slight nod, but removes herself from the scene. He really should've thought harder about his following actions, especially considering that Bickslow scoots backwards too.
With an unforgiving force he brings the pillow in the direction of the greenhaired man's head. However, the two do not connect as Freed's eyes spring open and with a combination of both grace and brute force, he grabs Laxus by the arm and throws him over him, making him slam into the corner of the nearby table.
"Ah fuck, sor-" As soon as he notices who exactly it is he attacked, he stops mid-apology. An infuriating smirk plasters itself onto his face instead. "Dear prince, as you can see I'm a jack of all trades." Leaning against his side, the man lets his fingers skips across Laxus' shoulders, whispering: "I'll protect all of this for you, everything inch from head to toe." Laxus tries to swat him away but the bastard proves to be annoyingly strong. He ends pushing against a cheek that feels surprisingly soft to distance himself from Freed.
"Boys, if you could stop fondling each other for a minute, we have to catch a train", Evergreen remarks dryly and Bickslow cuts in, "and breakfast, preferably. I'd kill for a meal."
"Then do it", Freed says, eyes wide open. "Human flesh is-" Laxus takes it upon himself to silence him by gagging him with his arm. Dragging the struggling man along, he nods at Evergreen. "Let's go", he says and sighs wearily. He's already regretting this.
Eventually he has to let go of Freed, because dragging a man along in that manner is a bit suspicious and he isn't looking to be arrested. Thanks to what probably is divine intervention, the man has decided to shut his wicked mouth for now. Instead he's letting his gaze slip over their surroundings, letting it hover at certain foodstalls. The overall expression of his face is inconspicious, innocent even with his slightly parted pink lips and youthful glow. But in the depths of his eyes swirl wayward lights and Laxus shivers. Who knows what this man is truly capable of?
Soon, he gets a demonstration of Freed's slightly shadier sides. Although he has to admit it's nothing he hasn't done himself and that Freed's probably not the only crook at work at this market. Approaching one of the vendors with a bright smile, Freed draws the man into a discussion about his wares. Are they the truly the best in town, as his sign says and other useless questions.
Provoked by the questions, the man offers Freed a sample, boasting about his quality. Freed nods along as the man explains the process of making the bread, interjecting with questions here and there. As the vendor launches into from one passionate speech into the other, Freed puts his nimble fingers to work.
It's the nonchalance of his actions that truly baffle Laxus. He doesn't even try to hide his actions, he casually swipes goods here and there and to top it all off? The vendor doesn't notice. At all. As someone who's gotten beaten quite a lot for getting caught pickpocketing, he's envious of the whole ordeal.
After purchasing a single slice of lemon cake and bidding the vendor goodbye, Freed returns to them. "I got you lot some breakfast, want it now or on the train?" Laxus' stomach rumbles at that very moment and as the tips of his ears colour slightly red, Evergreen doesn't spare him his dignity and gives a light chuckle. "Although circumstances", she glances at Laxus and he glares back, "seem to demand we have breakfast now, I'd advise to wait until we can sit down. I think it would make for a far more pleasing experience, right?"
Agreeing with her, they continue their walk. "Do you always gather your breakfast in that manner?" Laxus asks Freed and the man shrugs. "Is it of any importance dear prince? Is being fed not enough for your royal highness?"
"I'm wondering if you guys don't even have enough money to eat...How the hell are we going to get to Paris?" Freed's mouth falls open in a surprised 'o' shape and he covers it with his hand. "Oh my...there's some form of intelligence there after all", he gasps in faux-surprise.
As he moves to swipe at the guy, Freed swiftly stops him by shoving the lather large remnant of his slice of lemon cake into Laxus' mouth. Gross. That thing's been in the other man's mouth. He doesn't hesitate to voice his thoughts, but does throw in a little thank you because he had been hungry and contrary to other people, he knows what manners are.
"No problem", Freed says, voice honeyed and sweet. "The knowledge that you are enjoying your stolen goods, brings me the greatest happiness my dear prince!" Laxus swipes at him again and Freed dodges by smoothly skipping forwards. When he looks back and sees Laxus indignant face and puffed up cheeks, he lets out a laugh that sounds surprisingly close to genuine.
#fraxus#Freed Justine#Laxus Dreyar#freedxlaxus#Evergreen#Bickslow#Raijinshuu#fanfic#anastasia au#TheFairyWrites
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I Never Stopped Loving You
Directly follows the events of Reunion with a bang! Philly and Wendy talk about the elephant in the car.
1919 words (or about 5 pages) so buckle in
Philly was somehow unsurprised to see that Wendy's stuff was already neatly aboard Bessie as he went to put away the supplies they'd acquired for their dinner picnic. Well, that Wendy had acquired. He'd watched with interest as she shelled out money for nice wine and even nicer food. And she hadn't batted an eye about it. With the food put away, he wandered over to one of her bags of stuff, lightly touching it with his foot. It was heavy. Peering over the top of it he could see that it was full of weapons and other tech. He raised his brows approvingly. He'd ask more about it later.
"You wanna go anywhere in particular?" He asked as he came up from Bessie's interior, noticing that Wendy was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat already. She looked peaceful, in a way that left him feeling uncertain. He sat down in the driver's seat, brushing off the feeling.
"Nowhere." She replied, leaning her head towards him, meeting his gaze. "I want to go nowhere. Just drive and let's stop somewhere empty. Somewhere...that's nowhere."
Philly blinked, but shrugged. "Alright, I think I get it." He put the car into gear and they headed off, the sun beginning to set behind them.
The ride was quiet. Philly found himself nervous and sweating, but whenever he looked at Wendy...she appeared placid and calm. He wondered if beneath that exterior, she was as nervous as he was. It was hard to say. But the way she looked in the fading sunset, with her hair whipping about in the breeze...anything he wanted to say got caught in his throat when he looked at her. And there was so much to say, and yet...he didn't know how to say any of it. Not a single word. If he disturbed that calmness...would she shatter?
He noticed, as the last of the light was fading, that she held out her hand to him, barely looking at him out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to be sure, but her cheeks looked pink. He took her hand in his, wishing that the both of them had taken their gloves off. Ah well. It was enough to feel her hand in his, even with the fabric in the way. He had missed the feeling more than he realized.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. Christ, getting emotional already? Fucking ridiculous. What would she think?
...she wouldn't judge him for it. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.
So he smiled, and pushed the accelerator. She laughed a little at the engine revving, and Philly laughed too.
"I think we can stop soon." She said, looking back, satisfied not to see the town on the horizon. But it had been that way for some time. She just hadn't been ready. And, frankly, there was always the chance that someone would interrupt upon spotting Philly the Kid...but that was just an excuse.
"Oh, yeah, sure! Whenever you like, we can stop." Philly stammered out, eager to please, feeling more nervous now that she was speaking to him. They were just gonna have a nice meal and chat, right, nothing to be nervous about...after all, they were...
Well, he wasn't sure what they were right now. Perhaps the nerves were warranted after all.
Finding a large rock to park the car behind, he pulled over. With that done, he sat nervously for a minute, hands on his legs, trying to figure out what to say.
"Uh. So. How are things?" He asked, smiling nervously at her. He could feel himself sweating. He hoped it wasn't visible.
"Uh. Um. Y-you know..." She replied, feeling awkward at how awkward he was behaving. She rubbed the back of her head. "Stuff is. Stuff." The silence stretched on. "So how about that food and drink?" She laughed loudly to cover up the discomfort.
"Right, yeah, I'll get that!" Philly hopped to his feet, descending into Bessie more quickly than he intended.
Once out of sight, he leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths, his hand over his face.
"Why am I so fucking stupid?" He mumbled to himself, feeling his face warm. "It's just...we're just...I don't even know what it is she wants and I'm getting all worked up..." He sighed, straightening up and adjusting his tie nervously before grabbing the food and wine.
"Uh, thanks again for this..." He said, setting it down between the driver and passenger seats, taking his seat again.
"Oh, um, it's no problem! I thought it would be nice..." Wendy replied, pouring some wine for each of them. The moon was bright but it was still not super easy to see what she was doing, but she was pleased to avoid spilling. She handed Philly his, and their hands brushed for a moment, and Philly was surprised to feel that she had taken off her gloves as their fingertips brushed. He almost dropped the glass.
"S-sorry, haa, guess I'm just a little clumsy." He rubbed the back of head and grinned nervously.
"Oh, no it's, um, it's fine." Wendy looked down into her own wine glass shyly. Philly took this opportunity to quickly take his gloves off, shoving them in his pockets, feeling stupid for being so panicky about it. But by the time she looked up he was back to looking normal, if not a bit red. He hoped she couldn't see that in the moonlight.
They started eating. The silence was too hard to bare.
"Seems like you, uh, must've been doing some good business." Philly observed, referring to her purchase of the food and wine. "What's that about?"
She perked up at the topic. "Oh! Yes! Well, I had a little shop I set up, making and developing weapons and other tech...turns out I'm quite good at it, and I make good money if people know where to find me." She grinned. "The best things I don't sell, though. I saved those for y- er, f-for my own, my own use." She stumbled over her words, unable to fully admit the reason.
Philly could see a hint of the pink on her cheeks, and was able to put together what she'd almost let slip. "Oh, well, I'd love to try them sometime. I might've...broke the gun you left with me." He admitted, smiling sheepishly. "Some things happened, you know?"
"Oh, I know alright." She sighed. "You still never get to rest, do you?" She looked at him tenderly, and he felt his heart skip a beat.
"I'm resting now." He replied. "It's...nice. But yeah, once you start running..."
"You can't stop." She finished for him, expression sad.
"Yeah." His shoulders sagged. "Moments like this...make me wish I could." He gazed down at his hands, lost in thought. The zero in his palm, something he preferred not to see, a painful reminder.
He started as her hands came to rest on top of his. When had she stood up to be so close to him? She gently took his wine, setting it on the floor. He stared at her. Her hands moved to his face, and she leaned down, pulling him in for a kiss.
He was shocked. She was kissing him? It took a moment, but he brought his hands up to hold on to her waist, savoring the sweet feeling of her lips on his. Warm, and soft, and oh god how much he'd missed her-
He found he was crying now, but he didn't care.
When they pulled away, catching their breath, Philly couldn't help but stare.
"You...love me again?" He asked shakily, voice barely a whisper.
"Philly, I never stopped loving you." She replied in an equally shaky voice, tears pricking the corner of her eyes.
"Y-you...never stopped? But I...I was so selfish-" Philly started, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, feeling more tears flow.
"Maybe you were, maybe you weren't, I don't...it doesn't matter. You saved my life, Philly. How could I fault you for that?" She was crying outright now. "How could I- how could I say the things I said-"
Philly pulled her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her, pressing his head against her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning over him, trying not to sob.
"There's nothing I couldn't forgive." Philly mumbled. "I've missed you so damn much." They pulled apart. Philly made as much space for her as he could on the smaller seat, and she sat down, leaning into him.
"I missed you too. I...I just needed time. And I forgive you. And I'm sorry. And I'll never leave like that again." She grabbed his hands, squeezing them gently. "I...still though, I'm...it's hard to...to really...acknowledge that I'm immortal though."
"Heh. Yeah. It is." Philly replied honestly. "I'm not any good at it myself. I've squandered so much of my time. Everyone tells me that, anyway."
"It's wrong of them to make that judgement. They don't have a fucking clue what it's like." Her grip on his hands tightened for a moment. He squeezed back, and she relaxed. "It's hard. I wanted to sort it out before I came back to you, actually...but I couldn't." Her mouth twitched for a moment. "That's what took so long. Well, that and the fact that you're impossible to track down. No one has any real information on you. Ridiculous. But by the same token, I was glad about that."
He took one of his hands, wrapping the arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "Wouldn't be great if anyone could track me down, would it?" He teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"But...I gave up on...sorting it out. I thought maybe...maybe we could do it better, together..." She mumbled, feeling a little stupid as she said it. It just sounded like sappy shit, like he was gonna laugh at her.
"Yeah." Her gaze shot up to meet him, eyes wide with surprise. "You know, life didn't feel worth living until I met you. Until we...fell in love." He was looking up at the stars, a gentle smile on his face, and a blush to match the sweetness of his words. He turned his gaze to her, continuing to smile unabashedly. "So we'll figure it out together."
"Thank you." She pressed her face to his chest, sniffling again. "It means more than I can say."
They stayed like that for a few moments, pressed together, clinging to each other as if they might fall apart at any moment.
"So you'll stay?" Philly finally whispered.
"Yes. Forever." Wendy whispered back. They kissed again, gently, tenderly. "Should we go over to, I dunno, the passenger seat, which actually seats two?" Wendy asked cheekily, sticking her tongue out.
Philly rolled his eyes. "I guess. That will make it easier to eat and snuggle." They resituated, returning to eating and drinking and chatting.
"You HAVE to tell me stories about all the cool battles you got into. I'm sure there's a lot to catch up on." Wendy said, grinning wide.
"And you have to tell me about these new weapons of yours. And any cool fights you got into." Philly replied, also grinning.
"Deal. You first."
Several hours later, they fell asleep in each others' arms, content with the idea of eternity.
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Dusk til Dawn
Chapter Two <3
Harry’s raking his fingers through his hair as he’s sat on the edge of his bed. The early morning sun blinding his eyesight as he raises one hand to block it. The events of last night are slowly coming back to him before he realizes....
“Y/N. Shit.” He rips through the mix of blankets and sheets on his bed until he finds his cellphone.
Scrolling through his contacts, he finds your name and sends a text.
Harry: Are we good?
His fingers are tapping the back of the device awaiting a response. He can feel his heart rate speeding up, he’s hoping he didn’t secretly cross any boundaries.
Y/N: Why wouldn’t we be?
Harry’s confused. He could’ve sworn you scurried out of his bedroom the night before full of regret.
Harry: Last night? We... you know? Fucked?
Y/N: I have no idea what you’re talking about H. I’ll see you in class Monday!
Harry takes his index finger to scratch the top of his head. Was she too intoxicated to recall? Did he take advantage of her?
Harry: Y/N, I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.
Y/N: Harry. Nothing happened. Okay?
Harry: Got it.
You were just going to pretend like nothing happened.
Harry’s ego instantly bruised. He’d never been told he lacked in the intimacy department nor did he ever allow himself to perform so poorly that the other person would rather have amnesia? You and Harry had always mindlessly flirted, he believed last night was bound to happen. He also secretly wished a relationship would blossom from it, and he’s definitely feeling the opposite of what he thought he’d feel. So if you were going to pretend like Harry didn’t exist, he was going to make himself visible
****
Denver’s been mindlessly rambling about Zayn and the girth of his member for the last two hours. In a way, you were grateful. She was able to alleviate any thoughts of Harry in your brain, but not even Denver at her peak of annoying could run you from the truth. You weren’t sure why you chose to act oblivious, you’ve craved a moment like that since the moment you met Harry, but it still felt so wrong.
“Anyways, I’d hoping you’d come back with me to the frat party tonight. Zayn’s gonna be there!” In typical Denver fashion she has her lips formed in a pout with arms crossed across her chest, and she’s attempting to beg.
“No way Denver! I have a huge test at the end of next week plus piles of other homework. I’m staying in tonight.” You stomp your right foot down in protest.
“You’ve got all Sunday to finish on top of the week ahead of you. You can’t be perfect 24/7 sweets!” Denver sashays to the bathroom to get ready for the evening ahead of her.
There’s nothing wrong with a little perfection.
You slip back into the warmth of your bed and reposition your laptop back onto your lap. You weren’t ready to see Harry.... not yet.
After tackling different assignments for what felt like five hours. Denver walks back into your bedroom with her final form.
“So? What do we think?” She poses as if she was on a runway.
“Amazing D!” You stuff your mouth with the animal crackers you grabbed out of the pantry in between assignments. Not fully ready to commit to an entire meal.
“It’s still not too late for you to come with!” You juggled the options in your head before declining fully. Allowing Denver to bid you farewell and enjoy her evening with Zayn. You close your laptop and set it on your nightstand in exchange for the remote. Navigating your tv to Netflix, you settle on some reruns of Dear White People and before you know it, you’ve drifted soundly to sleep.
****
The exact second Denver walks in, hand in hand with Zayn, Harry immediately diverts his attention to the doorway. Hoping to see you trailing behind, instead he’s left disappointed. Zayn and Denver quickly walk towards him after his reaction.
“Hoping to see someone else?” Zayn’s half chuckling. Mostly for the light heartedness but pity is a close second.
“W-What? No. I just realized I have to see you again.” Harry takes a light jab at Zayn’s arm.
Zayn takes a pregnant pause before whispering into Harry’s ear,
“I promise you’ll feel a lot better if you’re just honest.” Harry avoids eye contact. Instead he pats Zayn on the back and slowly walks to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.
“Something’s got him down in the dumps.” In a room full of people, it’s still the only whisper he heard.
Harry twists the top off of a brand new bottle of tequila before lining up three shot glasses and deposing the liquid within each. He quickly throws all three back and slams each glass down after every swallow. A look of disgust traveling across his face as his mouth forms a yuck.
“Wow someone’s going through it, aren’t they?” The silhouette of a woman makes itself apparent through a dimly lit hallway.
“Oh, hey Ryan.” Harry swallows to gain some taste back into his mouth. “Just typical frat boy activities, you know me.” Harry’s got his hand on the back of his neck as his temperature is slowly accelerating due to the alcohol.
“I reckon, I’d love to get to know you more.” Ryan was a good fuck, just ask the entire fraternity house. But Harry wasn’t in the mood for a mindless hookup, he wanted Y/N in his arms while they watched silly romcoms and exchanged childhood stories.
His lack of response sparked confidence within Ryan. She took short nips at his neck marking her territory. Harry gave in just enough to give her access to his exposed skin. She lined his neck with prominent bruises. Just enough of a bite that stung and just enough of a sloppy kiss to leave him wanting more. He took gentle squeezes at her bum before she softly took hold of his two fingers and guided him up to his bedroom. Once there, she pushed Harry onto his back, he slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows. His head was pounding from the mix of alcohol and the bass from the stereo playing downstairs.
Ryan’s slowly undressing herself as she puts on a show. Swaying her hips side to side and giving him different views of her body.
Harry’s not paying her any mind though, instead his focus is shifted to his closed bedroom door where he mentally replays the night before. The sound of his slamming your body against the door as he thrusts from different angles makes him salivate at the mouth. Ryan must’ve peeped by now because she yanks his face toward her forcing him to keep his eyes on her.
Harry isn’t in the mood to fight her off, instead he grabs a condom from his nightstand drawer, ensuring this will be the last time he has to deal with Ryan.
****
Monday comes quicker than you anticipated. Today you decide to make a little effort with your outfit, the obvious reason being this would be the first time you saw Harry since that night in his bedroom. So you give yourself an illuminated makeup look and steal Denver’s favorite Fenty Beauty red lippie just to give you that extra umph. Topping it off with a timeless look. Satin creme high waisted trousers, with a knit wrapped top that plunges a bit at the cleavage and the Gucci loafers you splurged on after weeks of saving. Also, you might’ve saw Harry wearing them first and instantly fell in love. Hoping that these would be a conversation piece amongst the two of you in your 9 am.
Grabbing your backpack, you walk out of your front door. Your shared apartment with Denver was still technically on campus and only about a five minute walk so you opted out of your vehicle most days to save the planet. It made you feel considerably warm inside whenever you did decide to do this. Plopping in your earbuds, you listen to your favorite playlist on the way to class. Excitement was bubbling inside of you.
When you finally reach the classroom, you take a deep breath before walking inside. Your eyes immediately divert to the table behind yours hoping to see Harry. And you did see him, more or less. You just didn’t expect to see him like this.
He’s draped in all black with a huge hoodie engulfing his body and black sunglasses to cover his eyes. He looked like shit.
Now you didn’t know if his eyes were on you, but they were. As you confidently walked to your seat Harry watched your every move. Mentally noting how beautiful you looked and how that red lipstick complimented your skin so well. His heart is skipping several beats because he knew you only dressed that way when you wanted to impress someone or something. He was secretly hoping it was him. While his ego would normally allow him to bask in the fact that he finally got you to make an effort for him specifically, it was quickly clouded by the fact that he slept with someone else not even twenty four hours later. Neither one of you were exclusive to one another but he still felt his actions were uncalled for. Denver, Benji, and the remaining stragglers quickly trickle in right before the clock strikes nine on the dot. This Professor was pretty strict on time.
“Oi mate! It’s a beautiful day. Why are you all covered up?” Benji’s voice booms throughout the classroom causing half of the class to turn around. He then rips Harry’s hood off displaying his collection of love bites who, might I add, were a tad bit excessive.
You can feel your eyes grow wide at the site of them quickly turning back around to face the front of classroom. A large lump was forming in your throat that you couldn’t swallow if you wanted to. Shrinking in your seat, you instantly regretted even attempting to look good for Harry. Why would a frat guy even remember one of his many love affairs? But Harry did. And he knew the moment you saw how decorated he was, you’d no longer be interested. You weren’t a fool, and you definitely weren’t going to be one for him. So he slumps down lays his head on the table before him.
The entire class period is spent in silence yet again. Your wiggling your toes in the Gucci loafers you hoped were going to be conversation pieces, silently begging time to move faster so you can get out of there. When the professor finally releases the class, you scurry out before even Denver could get a word out. Harry was beginning to think all he’d ever see you was in a hurry.
****
The rest of your classes go by with ease the moment you rattle any idea of Harry out of your brain. You were never the type to allow another individual get the best of you. That’s how you prospered, being able to shake things off and keep your own life going.
As your released out of your final class for the day, you make your way to the library to hopefully get some extra studying in. Sitting down at a table amongst the shelves a books, you pull out your laptop and begin busying yourself.
That is, until your thoughts are interrupted with a slow but needy tap on your shoulder.
Whipping your head around you meet the same shit looking Harry. You’d be lying if your stomach wasn’t fluttering at the thought of him.
“Y/N I need to talk to you!” His eyes are still covered in his sunglasses, and his hoodie is still up but you can make out just a few of the love bites dancing across his Adam’s apple.
Instead, you give him a solid middle finger and go back to working on your laptop.
He takes the seat next to yours and puts his arm around your chair.
“I know you’re mad at me, but please talk to me.” Harry’s pleading , and you know if his bloodshot eyes weren’t masked at the moment, you’d completely lose yourself over his green orbs begging for forgiveness.
So you turn your body to completely face his silently.
Harry takes his cue to begin speaking,
“Y/N, I know that looked really bad earlier and. I know that you came to class like this,” he points to your entire outfit, “for me. When else have you ever worn Gucci loafers?” You smirk at his observation, he continues,
“Someone told me that I need to start being honest so here goes..” Harry’s voice is escalating in volume which causes the librarian to give him a stern shhhh. He bows his head in defeat and pulls you closer.
“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since the day I saw. I might even love you, I have no idea. Your smile brightens up every single one of my days, your intelligence turns me on, and God, don’t even get me started on that beautiful face.” You don’t realize how big your cheering until you physically force yourself to stop.
“What was I supposed to do when you basically wanted to pretend like nothing happened? So I did what a typical college guy would do and I drank. I drank all of my sorrow until an easy lay was there to make me forget about you. I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t value our time together. I’m telling the truth, you have to believe me.”
It could be his visible desperation that causes you to forget all institution but wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly on lips.
“I feel the exact same, H.” A soft giggle leaves her lips and Harry could feel the weight being lifted off of his shoulders.
“God, I adore you.”
He peppers kisses on your cheeks and nose, you finally feel like your in heaven.
****
The news of you and Harry dating was actually received well. Nobody was bold enough to comment on the pairing other than Denver, but she was too wrapped up in Zayn to even mutter a word. So the first couple of weeks was everything you wanted and more, the perfect beginning to the honeymoon stage.
But since you were who you were, you made sure not to get too comfortable. You refused to sleep with Harry again until you were completely ready. You wanted to make sure that he wasn’t using you for sex and actually wanted to spend all this time with you.
He brought you flowers to class a handful of times, as well as invited you over so he could cook dinner for you. Which was surprising, you’d never been to the fraternity house during the week so to see it so clean and empty was refreshing.
Everything was going smoothly, until it wasn’t.
It was typical Friday night. Another party being thrown as usual. Harry had his arm across your chest holding your backside as close as possible to his front. You could feel every movement. His breathy laughs causing the hairs on your neck to stand. Anytime you budged, you could feel his dick twitch against you. It turned you on more than you wanted to admit. The group of guys huddled up on one side of the house with their girlfriends, or whoever they were boning that night secured beside them.
As Harry entertained Benji’s antics, you took a glance around the room. A few guys and girls took glances at your group probably silently wishing they could be one of you. What really caught your attention was a young lady staring directly at you. She was visibly angry, and her directness caused you to shift the weight between your feet, but you stood taller, nobody was ever going to make you feel threatened.
Harry could feel her eyes through his peripheral so he secured his grip on you making sure your as close as possible. Notice Ryan moving closer, Harry excuses himself to grab you two another drink. He presses a gentle kiss on your cheek, and you lift your cheek slightly to share the moment. You also wanted to show whoever the hell was staring at you that he was off limits.
As Harry walked to the kitchen, you noticed the young lady watch him before disappearing amongst the crowd. Something was off.
Harry pours himself another concoction taking a quick gulp to rid his anxiety.
“Someone got cuffed rather quickly.” Ryan appears causing Harry to roll his eyes.
“Why are you here!?” Ryan takes large strides to Harry, leave just enough room between them that each hair on his neck rises slowly after each breath she takes.
“What’s your poor girl gonna do when finds out you slipped up just a few days into your brand new relationship?” She wags her index finger in front of his face letting a few tsk leave her mouth.
“You wouldn’t.” Harry’s grip tightens on his glass.
“Try me.”
#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#hareh styles writing#harry styles fanfic#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles preferences#zayn#zayn malik#zayn malik writing#zayn malik fanfic#zayn malik imagine
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An scenario where ichi has a fight with one of his brothers and leaves the house angry and walks around the city but he spaces out and trips and falls over a river bank and sprains/breaks his ankle and can’t walk. He doesn’t come back home that night and the brothers get worried they look for him
I altered this just slightly but here you go, hope you enjoy!
Ichimatsu was seething.
He kept his head low as he stormed down the sidewalk, hands balled into fists in the pockets of his sweatpants. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, and he didn’t care–he was pissed and needed to cool off somehow, far away from home. Or at least, far away from his shitty oldest brother.
How dare Osomatsu eat the dried sardines he’d bought for his cats with his own money, and then blame Ichimatsu for not hiding them better? They’d been tucked far in a corner of the highest cabinet in the kitchen, and he’d even taped a note to the front labeling them as his–not Osomatsu’s. Apparently Osomatsu lost all ability to read when he was hungry, because he claimed to have missed it entirely when rooting through the cabinets for a snack.
If Osomatsu wasn’t such a selfish pig always looking to fill his stomach this wouldn’t have happened…
It wasn’t like this behavior was unexpected in the oldest, but Ichimatsu was sick of it–and when it happened again today, he’d snapped. He’d yelled at Osomatsu, and Osomatsu had the gall to get angry and yell at him in return, even though he was entirely at fault. With no other brothers around at the time, there’d been no referee to get them to call it off, so it had dragged on longer than it had needed to (Osomatsu was just lucky Ichimatsu hadn’t hauled out and punched him in the face with no witnesses around). It had ended when Ichimatsu had declared Osomatsu was a horrible excuse for a brother, and from there he hadn’t even let himself see the reaction on the other’s face. He’d just bolted out of the room, out of the house.
In hindsight, it might’ve been too much. But whatever, he didn’t even care. Let Osomatsu be stung, he’d earned it.
Ichimatsu entered the park without much thought, heading directly for the clump of woods on one end of the park. At least he’d have some privacy there. Maybe he could punch a couple of trees to release this pent-up rage or something.
The woods weren’t too dense, but they were dark, secluded as they were by the trees and overhang of leaves that blocked out the sun. Ichi forged his way through some bushes, straying off the path slightly, just to get away. At least he could be reasonably sure Osomatsu would never find him out here should he venture out to look for him.
Not that he actually would, that lazy, self-entitled, good-for-nothing sack of—
Ichimatsu’s internal venting was cut off when he stumbled abruptly, tripped up by a gnarled tree root protruding onto the path in front of him. His sandal flew off as he fell face-first into the dirt, just barely managing to brace his fall with his hands.
He grimaced at the stinging pain in his palms, which were no doubt scraped up. Dammit. Figures that I’d hurt myself thinking of Oso, something’s always his fault even if he’s not there…
He attempted to push himself up and carry on with his walk….only for a sudden, sharp pain shooting through his ankle to cause him to stumble again, landing on his behind.
Well, shit…that’s not good.
Slowly, Ichimatsu wiggled his foot, then hissed as pain throbbed through his ankle. Crap, that hurt. He could see it was already swelling, too. He must’ve sprained it when he fell. Probably wasn’t a good idea to trek through the woods in sandals…
Panic stabbed at Ichimatsu’s heart as sudden realization set in–there was no way he’d be able to walk home like this, not when he couldn’t even stand up. He didn’t have a phone on him, and his brothers wouldn’t even know where he was because he hadn’t told anyone. He was too far now from the main path for anyone to hear him call for help.
No…shit, no, this is bad…
Maybe it had been foolish to storm out of the house like that. Maybe he should’ve at least told Osomatsu where he’d be and just told him not to follow. He wouldn’t have been in this mess if he had.
Fear and frustration mingled within him, making his heart race and his chest tighten. He called for help, just in case anyone was near enough to hear, but his cries were met with silence.
His heart plummeted when he realized the sun would be setting soon and he’d be stuck here, all alone, until who knew when.
I’m so screwed.
—————
At first, Osomatsu hadn’t thought much of Ichimatsu’s absence. It made sense he’d leave for awhile to cool off after their fight, that was how a lot of them blew off steam. Osomatsu had been too pissed at the time to overthink it…though over time, he did have to admit to himself maybe he’d gone too far when he had, in fact, been the one to eat what he knew belonged to Ichimatsu.
But as hours passed, the sky darkened, and dinner came and went without the fourth son, he began to worry. He wasn’t the only one either.
“It’s not like Ichimatsu to stay out so late,” Karamatsu commented, frowning as he peered out the window. “Where could be be…?”
“Do you think he could be feeding the cats at this hour?” Todomatsu asked, biting his lip pensively.
Jyushimatsu shook his head, his smile having vanished at the first worried mention of Ichimatsu’s disappearance. “He does that early so he doesn’t miss them—some of them leave at night, and others are sleeping, so he wouldn’t want any of them to skip a meal accidentally.”
“But where else would he go?” Choromatsu couldn’t disguise the anxious tone in his voice.
Osomatsu chewed on his lower lip nervously. “I mean…he’s probably just hanging out at Chibita’s stall or something, right…?” He had to say something like that, some suggestion to soothe his frazzled nerves and let himself believe he was somewhere safe.
Todomatsu cut a sharp glare in Osomatsu’s direction. “If you hadn’t screamed at him earlier, he wouldn’t have left! This is your fault!”
“Why’d you have to go and take his dried fish anyway?” Jyushimatsu added, uncharacteristically accusatory. “You know those are his! Of course he’d get mad at you for taking them!”
“Look, I know!” Osomatsu snapped. “Don’t you think I regret that now? Don’t you think I’d rather have my little brother home safe and sound right now?”
Silence followed Osomatsu’s outburst—it was clear now, all of them were worried about Ichimatsu’s whereabouts. Hostility toward the eldest lingered in the air, a dark and dismal cloud hovering over their heads. Osomatsu hated it, even though not so deep down he knew he deserved it.
He couldn’t stand it anymore, just sitting around waiting and worrying. Ichimatsu could be in danger for all they knew…and if anything awful happened to him, Osomatsu knew he’d never be able to live guilt-free after that.
With sudden determination, he rose from the couch and declared, “I’m going out to look for him.”
There was a pause, as if no one believed he would be willing to do it. Then, at last, Karamatsu cleared his throat and stated, “If you’re going, I’m going with you. It’s too dangerous to go alone.”
“I’m going, too,” Choromatsu rushed in. “It’ll be safer with three instead of two.”
Osomatsu gave a quick nod, not wasting time to argue. He knew he should go out by himself, because it’s what he deserved, but that would lead to a drawn-out debate they didn’t have time for.
“You two stay behind, in case he comes back while we’re gone,” he told the youngest two, who nodded quickly in agreement.
Then, armed with flashlights and Totty’s phone, just in case, the oldest three brothers set off. The whole time, Osomatsu’s mind raced.
Please…let Ichi be okay.
———–
They searched for over an hour to no avail.
They checked every alleyway Ichimatsu was known to frequent, but came up empty. They checked in with Chibita, but he reported that he hadn’t seen Ichimatsu at all that night. They checked local late-night convenience stores, just in case, but there was no sign of him.
Osomatsu felt sick to his stomach.
Where could he be?
“I don’t know where else we can look,” Choromatsu said, voice shaking like he was on the verge of panicking.
If something happened to him, I’ll never forgive myself.
“You don’t suppose he’s with that couple, do you?” Karamatsu proposed, clearly wracking his brain for any ideas. “The one he met at Christmas?”
Choromatsu shook his head. “I don’t think so…he likes to be alone when he’s mad. Anyway, I don’t know where they live, or their number, so we wouldn’t be able to check…”
Look…your brothers are freaking out, worrying about Ichi, all because of you. If you don’t find him, you’re the worst brother ever. Maybe Ichi was right….
“Maybe…we should check the park.”
Karamatsu and Choromatsu turned to look at Osomatsu, their expressions partially doubtful. “Why would he be at the park so late at night…?” Choromatsu asked.
“Why would he be anywhere this late at night?” Osomatsu countered. “And there’s that patch of the park going into the woods, he goes there sometimes to check for strays.”
Karamatsu thought silently for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Alright…it’s worth a try.”
“If nothing comes up here…” Choromatsu swallowed hard, gulping down his fears.
“We won’t know until we look,” Osomatsu stated gravely, brushing past the two and taking the lead. “Let’s go.”
Please…please…as long as he’s okay, I don’t care if he calls me the worst brother ever for the rest of my life.
I probably deserve it anyway.
—————
It was hopeless.
Ichimatsu’s throat was raw and sore from a combination of crying and calling for help. His ankle was killing him. He was cold, hungry, and terrified.
How long will I be out here? All night? Another day…a week? All because I had to be a baby and storm out…stupid shitty Osomatsu…
But he didn’t want to keep blaming the oldest for his predicament, even if he was partly at fault. At this point, he would’ve given anything to see Osomatsu, or any of his brothers. If only he hadn’t been so stupid…
“….Ichimatsu…!”
Ichimatsu’s ears perked up suddenly. Did someone call my name? He was sure he had to be hearing things…maybe fear was making him delusional.
“Ichimatsu…! Are you out here….?!”
The voices were clearer now, and with a start he realized he recognized them. They were overlapping each other as they called, but he could tell they belonged to Karamatsu and Choromatsu.
“Ichimatsu…please, if you’re out here, tell us…!”
That last voice…it was unmistakably Osomatsu. So he had joined the search party, too. And his voice, tinged with concern, sounded genuine and real.
Ichimatsu drew in a deep, shaking breath. He wasn’t alone, after all. They’d noticed, they’d cared, and they’d found him. Feeling ready to burst into tears, he shouted with what little strength he had left.
“I’m over here!”
—————-
Back home everyone fussed over Ichimatsu, making sure he was okay. Choromatsu tended to his wounds and bandaged his ankle, Jyushimatsu fixed him some leftovers from dinner, and Todomatsu and Karamatsu set him up comfortably with blankets and pillows.
The only one who hung back was Osomatsu. He was sure none of them wanted him around, least of all Ichimatsu.
He could only stay back for so long, though. The memory of what had happened earlier that had driven Ichimatsu out of the house in the first place gnawed away at him, and he knew he had to apologize.
He waited until the other brothers had finally left, before moving in. “Um…hi,” he greeted Ichimatsu weakly.
“Hi.” Ichimatsu didn’t quite meet his gaze, but his tone wasn’t venomous as Osomatsu had expected either.
“I…I have something I need to say to you.” Osomatsu took a deep breath, sitting cautiously on the edge of the couch beside Ichimatsu. “I just…want to say I’m sorry for what I did earlier.”
Ichimatsu opened his mouth as if to say something, but Osomatsu rushed on. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, that those dried sardines were yours. I guess I didn’t think it would be that big a deal to you…even though I know it is, and for good reason. It belongs to your cats. So you have every right to be mad at me.”
Osomatsu wrung his hands, his breath shakier now. “And…and because of something stupid I did, you got hurt, and couldn’t get help. I’m so, so glad we found you, Ichi…if we hadn’t, I don’t…I don’t know…”
Osomatsu was on the verge of tears, and he furiously blinked them away, still gazing downward.
Suddenly he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and glanced up in surprise to see Ichimatsu had scooted just a little closer, though he wasn’t making eye contact either.
“It’s…it’s okay, Osomatsu. Yeah, I got pissed, because I’ve told you not to do that so many times now…but I probably could’ve reacted better too. I shouldn’t have gone off like that without even telling anyone where I was going.” Ichimatsu sighed. “So…I guess I’m sorry too, for making everyone worry. And, uh, thanks…for coming to find me. You…you are a good brother. At least, sometimes.”
Osomatsu blinked, stunned. “You…really mean that..?”
“Yeah.” Ichimatsu finally glanced at Osomatsu. “Just…don’t tell the others we had a sappy moment, okay?”
Osomatsu nodded, smiling slowly. He could totally tease Ichimatsu right now, try to get him to call him “nii-san” or something cute…but no, he didn’t need to. Better to let him stay in this more calm mood than piss him off again.
“I won’t. Promise.” And with that Osomatsu couldn’t resist the impulse to lean in and hug Ichimatsu, being careful not to hurt him again.
To his surprise, Ichimatsu hugged him back.
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this one’s actually a request I got on the ao3 version of this drabble collection, butch!sak/tomboy!hina coffe shop au! and is this the first coffee shop au I’ve ever done?? I think it might be!
(requests open)
(ao3 mirror)
---
It had been a long morning and Hinata desperately needed caffeine.
She’d had to wake up hellishly early – which might’ve been fine if she hadn’t been up until three in the morning desperately trying to finish her thesis in time for her first class – then spent almost an hour being jerked around by the aggressively indifferent receptionist of her school’s laboratory, before learning that the time she had booked for her vital preliminary experiments, had in fact been given to another student and the next available slot wasn’t until the end of the week. Handily throwing a wrench in her entire year’s calendar that she would be trying to work around for months to come.
And, on top of all that, the heavens had opened up the second she stepped outside, releasing several days’ worth of water all at once, leaving her to trudge home through a downpour, or hang out in the waiting room of the lab until it passed.
With the smirking receptionist, who she was too polite to tell to fuck himself, but who she dearly hoped would suffer several minor inconveniences for the rest of the day.
She chose the cold, wet walk instead.
Perhaps it had been a mistake, she could probably have found an empty classroom to quietly study in for an hour or so if she’d tried, but with her mind only lightly tethered to reality in her current state, it was more likely she would’ve just had a cry-nap instead.
It wouldn’t be the first time, but if a lecturer found her like that again, someone was bound to try and contact her father to inform him of her struggles, and he would wield that knowledge like a sledgehammer against her dreams of a career of her own; one without constant parental oversight and criticism.
She was absolutely not going to let that happen. Right now, however, what mattered most was getting out of the rain.
Squinting against the water running off the hood of her coat, she searched for somewhere – anywhere – that she could duck into and while away the time until her next lecture in a few hours. When she spotted a small café tucked away between a derelict bookstore and a corner shop that proudly called itself ‘Cheap-mart’ she didn’t care how dingy it looked, she just threw open the doors and shook herself off like a dog the second she was inside.
The barista leaning against the counter with his head in his hand glanced up at her; she offered him an awkward smile as she tried to brush down her damp hair. He returned with his own smile, one somehow even more awkward than her own, but straightened up and waved her over.
“Welcome, what can I get for you today?”
She didn’t bother to peruse the blackboards painted up behind him. “Black coffee, thank you.” Definitely not a drink that fit her usual tastes – she was more of a tea person – but she was about five seconds from collapsing on the cold, hard floor and wanted as little diluting the terrible, life-giving substance as possible.
If she’d had a syringe with her, she would have injected it directly into her bloodstream.
“Can I interest you in something to eat?” he asked, voice robotic and smile unnaturally fixed in place. “A sandwich, perhaps even one of our homemade cakes?”
The word ‘cake’ immediately caught her fraying attention and she stared into the glass display to scrutinise the options available with the same keen eye she would use for chemical analysis. It was actually quite impressive how… unappetizing they all looked; sponges were wonky, frosting looked like it had been applied with a slingshot, one was painted in the garish colours of a toddler given free reign of the crayon box and they had apparently all been cut with a chainsaw, she had no other explanation for the crumbling edges and uneven slices.
“I’ll have the coffee and walnut.” She glanced back outside, noting that the storm didn’t look like it would be passing any time soon and she had already skipped breakfast. “Actually, make that two slices.”
Dark eyes blinked at her in pure shock, before the man wordlessly fulfilled her order, only breaking his silence to tell her the cost and exchange cash.
She barely noticed, taking her plate and her cup and her sopping bag, she stumbled to the nearest table and sank down into the wooden chair like it was a plush, feather pillow. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the barista slipping through a door that presumably led to a kitchen; she might’ve found that a bit unprofessional, if it weren’t for the fact that she was literally the only customer in right now.
As she gulped down half of her coffee – grimacing at the taste, but pushing through it regardless – she wondered if the place was always this quiet. Sure, it was a little out of the way and if she hadn’t been looking for somewhere to escape the weather, she probably wouldn’t have noticed it was even there, but it had a stylish interior, wall painted with abstract ink patterns and rustic furniture.
And, when she shoved a generous forkful of cake into her mouth, she had to wonder even more about how a café with such incredible goods had flown so completely under the radar.
She literally closed her eyes and moaned.
Her fatigue was completely forgotten as she eagerly shovelled another mouthful between her lips, then another, and another. She was onto the second slice in about thirty seconds.
“Holy shit, I didn’t actually believe it…”
Hinata glanced up, absolutely no clue who would be disturbing her mid-meal and, even if her mouth hadn’t been full of soft, melting deliciousness, she probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything.
The short, stocky woman, with arms practically bursting out of the sleeves of her chef’s jacket – which presumably had been white at one point, but was now littered with so many stains in basically every conceivable colour that it was basically tie-dye – pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down heavily, crossing her arms on the table and leaning forwards with a slight frown. “Someone actually bought a cake.”
She was still chewing and had to wash down her bite with a generous gulp of coffee, just to respond.
“Huh?”
Very eloquent. Her father would be proud.
“No one buys the cake, we get about fifteen customers a day, I would remember someone buying the cake before-” she jerked a thumb in the direction of the barista leaning boredly against the counter “-Sai was so shocked he immediately came into the kitchen to tell me about it.”
That a customer actually choosing to eat the food on offer was such an anomaly that the chef had to come out of the kitchen, just to see if it was true, was a damning report on the state of their business. “Really?” she asked, looking down at the slice on her plate. “I can’t imagine why, it’s delicious.”
Dark brows narrowed over her green, green eyes. “Are you making fun of me? Did my mother send you here? Are you an EHO?” The woman was standing up now, leaning ever further into her personal space, flour-covered hands steady on either side of the table. With her face only a few inches away, Hinata could pick out individual pores on her nose and several old, faded scars. “I assure you; all my paperwork is up to date,” she said slowly, in such a low, threatening tone that left Hinata less assured than ever before.
She waved her hands in front of her face and backed away as far as the chair would let her. “I don’t’ know what that means and I came here on my own, I just… really like the cake?”
The speed at which the chef’s entire demeanour switched left Hinata feeling a little dizzy. Suddenly her bright eyes were sparkling and she had a wide, toothy grin stretching across her face as she asked, “For real? Even though it looks like absolute dogshit?”
“Well, as long as it tastes good, I don’t think the appearance really matters that much.” A statement easily reinforced by the fact that she was wearing an old, faded hoodie and some leggings she’d technically bought just for the gym, but were so comfortable that they’d wormed their way into her everyday wardrobe anyway.
Also, she was still soaked through and probably looked like a bedraggled cat, but she was trying to ignore that right now.
“Finally, someone who appreciates my genius!” Slapping a hand against the table hard enough to make it rock on its uneven legs, she turned around to shout at her co-worker, “You hear that Sai?”
“As glad as I am to have a satisfied customer, I would point you to the forty-seven other slices of cake that have been consistently rejected by everyone else who’s come in today.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Hinata got the feeling that he really was trying his best. “You can’t decorate cakes for shit and no one wants to eat them.”
The scoff and dramatic rolling of eyes suggested that this was a regular argument for these two. “Ignore him, he just thinks that he’s a better artist than me-”
“I am an objectively better artist than you.”
“Anyway-” she displayed a middle finger at him over her shoulder, all while keeping her gaze fixed on Hinata “-I’m really glad you like the cake, I know my presentation’s a bit… rough, but I know what tastes good, just wish more people would give it a chance.”
Hinata had to give a wobbly smile at the woman’s childish pout; ohhh she was in trouble. “You do have a talent for flavour, I must admit,” she said, “I think this is the best coffee cake I’ve ever had.”
“Right? I’ve been playing around with some ideas for new recipes- actually wait here a sec, I’ll go cut you off some samples.” She was charging through the door leading to the kitchen before Hinata could object, but, looking at the rain still hammering down against the windows and taking another bite of beautifully soft cake… she could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than being fed a selection of baked goods by an incredibly handsome woman with biceps that could probably crush steel.
Maybe she could even come up with an excuse to touch them. Just to satisfy her scientific curiosity.
---
By the time the rain had settled down to a slow drizzle, she had completely forgotten everything that led her to the café in the first place, so distracted was she by chatting to the charmingly exuberant chef – who was called Sakura, she quickly learned.
They had shared several slices of experimental cakes and, while none of them looked very pretty, Hinata had been blow away by the taste each and every time.
If her alarm hadn’t started buzzing insistently, she would’ve happily spent the whole day getting lost in sugar and soft pink hair and distractingly shifting muscles and a boisterous, snorting laugh that had absolutely no right being as cute as she found it. Alas, she still had classes that she could not afford to skip and she really shouldn’t keep Sakura from her work for any longer. Even if she didn’t seem to have much to do.
As she gathered her things and pulled on her coat, she glanced down at the woman with a soft smile. “Thank you for all the wonderful food, and conversation.” She rummaged through her bag and drew out her wallet, dropping a few notes in the tip jar as she passed. One benefit to coming from a wealthy family, she afford to be very generous.
Sai grinned at her, slapping a hand over Sakura’s mouth before she could object to the payment – and judging from the look in her bright eyes, that was almost certainly what she was planning.
Rolling her eyes as she pushed his hand away, she leaned over the counter to grin widely at Hinata. “Please, come again!”
“Yes, and bring friends with you next time, as you can see, we’re pretty desperate for business.”
“Idiot, don’t tell that to the customers!” Sakura yelled, slapping a hand to her forehead hard enough to leave a red mark there.
He gave her a Look. “It’s advertising.”
“No, it’s desperation, you better not have been telling that to everyone who comes in here.”
“Are we not desperate?” He asked, voice completely even and reasonable. “Do I have to show you our account books again? Maybe you should focus on trying to find a cake decorating course, before you start criticising me.”
Hinata laughed softly to herself, but not quietly enough that she didn’t catch the attention of both workers. She smiled at the pair, marvelling at their bizarre friendship that she wouldn’t mind seeing a bit more of. “I’ll tell everyone I know that the food here is delicious and they need to come try it-” she glanced at Sakura, who was almost glowing at the compliment, and had to duck her head to hide her blush “-and I live pretty close by, I’m sure I’ll be coming in here a lot more too.”
Before she could rush out of the doors, a voice called out to her, “Hey, what’s your favourite kind of cake? I wanna make it for the next time you come here.”
She stopped and had to take several calming breaths before turning around. “Anything with cinnamon,” she said, not wanting to give herself too much hope, but unable to deny the rush of excitement fizzing through her veins at the thought of spending more time – much more time – with the wonderful, strange, charming baker.
Sakura nodded, eyes already sparking with ideas. “Alright, I’ll make you something amazing, you better come back to taste it soon!”
“I will,” she said, stepping out into the damp afternoon, feeling lighter than air and ready to take on the whole world.
---
#ictoan writes#sakuhina#hinasaku#hinata hyuga#sakura haruno#naruto#hinata is Relatable and sakura is a Disaster and all is right with the world
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If We Were A Movie (Kim Mingyu)
Hi babes! So Erin and I geeked out bc we finally reached 400 followers!!! We cried a bit and really thank you guys for everything! It’s not possible without y’all! Enough rambling. -Bee
“Another win for the ever-talented Kim Mingyu.” You raised your hand for a high five which he eagerly slapped. “Stop being such a good actor or we’ll probably have to build you a separate room for all your wins.”
“It’s luck,” he shrugged modestly. “And my ridiculously good looks.”
“Who are you if not your own biggest fan? Okay, so there’s an after party going on if you wanna go or we clear the rest of the night to get you to start packing because need I remind you that you leave for this next movie in five days.” You unlocked your phone and rambled off the rest of his schedule, each time grinning wider than the last until his laughs betrayed him and you looked up at him in confusion. “What?”
“Do you ever get a day off?” He shook his head. “I think you’re more concerned about this coming month than I am.” He took out his own phone and compared it to yours. “Jeez, you’re more of an overqualified agent than my assistant. Wait, I have a physical the day after tomorrow? Since when?” He gestured you to start walking to his dressing room so he could change.
“Since you agreed to the role three months back.” You shrugged. “Maybe if you paid more attention, then you’d know.”
“But not even my agent knows-”
“Your agent’s job is to make sure you book your roles and you don’t risk it, hence your lack of scandals. I’m just here to make sure you keep yourself alive and well because your fans will probably kill me.”
“I knew I didn’t just hire you for your cute looks.” He closed the door in your face, giving him the last laugh.
You pounded on the door, laughing. “You hired me because you needed a friend!” Well from what he’s told you at least.
He opened it, sticking his head out. “And you’re a good one at that. Now please let me get dressed so I can go to this party while you enjoy your night off.”
“Hey, unblock me while you’re at it you coward!”
*
You threw the shirt along with the rest of the rejected pieces of clothing. You weren’t expecting to be invited along to all sorts of parties and social gatherings (that was more Mingyu’s scene) but because you were constantly by his side, it’d make sense for you to dress the part in case it happened. All your casual and formal clothing had been packed in different suitcases (and as low maintenance as you were, you liked messing with him because he could honestly pack like it was the end of the world...well it didn’t help that his stylist Xu Minghao tailored his wardrobe to perfection and often made it a point to show it off, subtly of course.)
You checked the time, surprised to see it was a quarter to two (and that Mingyu had refollowed on every social media account he previously blocked you on but it was otherwise fairly quiet from his end.) If you didn’t get any sleep soon, you’d be too tired for your day to yourself. You’d made plans to do something by yourself whether it be a haircut, buy new clothes, or maybe even get yourself that book you were eyeing; you just wanted some quality time with yourself and if you didn’t start that now, it’d be...awhile. You left your pile of clothes right where they were, just in case they’d be better looking in the morning. You washed the makeup and dirt away from your face as you changed into your most comfortable pyjamas (which you were too lazy to do so hours ago), hearing the kettle whistling, signaling that your water was ready for your nighttime tea. You’d managed to pour yourself a cup before you got an incoming call from Mingyu. “Hello?”
“Y/N MY LOVELY ASSISTANT,” He bellowed from his end of the receiver and you had to turn down the volume despite the fact it was on speaker because he was that loud when he had a little too much alcohol in his system. “CAN. YOU. HEAR. ME.” You turned it down as low as it could go. “OH NO. OH NO. OH NO. GUYS I LOST Y/N.”
You laughed. “Mingyu I’m right here in the kitchen, getting ready to sleep. Are you home yet?”
“YOU’RE AT MY HOME. WITHOUT ME? HOW DO YOU HAVE MY KEYS? DID I LEAVE THEM IN YOUR CAR AGAIN?”
“Go home and get some sleep please. Call me in the morning.”
“I LOVE YOU BUDDY.”
“Me too pal. Me too.”
*
You watched in irritated amusement as Mingyu and his costar hung out behind the scenes as the subplot progressed onscreen, peering over at you occasionally just to make sure you hadn’t abandoned him completely, but also making sure he could see you in case he needed you to save him, not that he needed it. You knew one of his personal rules was to not date who he worked with, but this one seemed to bend the rules a bit. So far, they’ve had dinner after hours, went shopping a couple of times and even had Mingyu blow off parts of his day that you had planned for him to get done. All in all, you were amazed at it all. He was fighting it and fighting it well but you also knew you had to give him some kind of hell for it. After all, he’s missed several meetings even if they weren’t all that important; it was just mostly scheduling fanmeets, interviews and just anything to give his upcoming movie publicity. (The fans might’ve done that enough though.) They were called back to the main screen not much later with you telling him it was the final shot of the day and you’d meet him back in your hotel room, so while they were getting ready for the big climax, you used that as an excuse to grab breakfast/lunch/dinner.
You’d been there since early in the morning, only snacking on pretzels and whatever what was put out on the table and if you didn’t get food in your system soon, you were sure you’d pass out from lack of nutrition. (As it was, you were cranky and your headache wasn’t helping.) Fast food was, unfortunately your only option, so you grudgingly ordered your meal (and another for the ever ravenous boy because he’d cause a mini scene until you relented so you spared yourself the guilt trip early.)
Getting to your suite, you set everything on the counter, kicked off your shoes and turned on the TV, getting some rest before eating. (Being an assistant was more tiring than you let on. Mingyu tried his hardest to make it easy for you, treating more like an equal rather than someone who was constantly waiting on his orders. You very rarely saw his diva side, which he used only when cast and crew were both assholes not only to him, but to you. He admired your efficiency, occasionally buying you a card saying he appreciated what you did for him, and your friendly demeanor even when you were put in the worst circumstances. It was only at home and your you time when he released the frustrations.) You hadn’t even known that you had fallen asleep until you felt someone shaking your shoulder telling you to wake up. You opened your eyes to find Mingyu looking at you with slight concern and you waved him off, standing up and stretching. “I didn’t hear you knocking.”
“I just got home and I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite and go for ice cream afterward but I can see you got dinner covered and you look too tired to...get up again.” Which was true. You fell back on the couch which had made him pause his sentence. He shook his head and instead brought the bags of burgers and fries to you, taking a spot next to you. He passed you your order (which had grown cold) and changed the channel, growing more unsatisfied with every show he skipped. He finally stopped when he saw one of his old movies, wordlessly asking you if you were okay with it and you just shrugged. He smiled to himself, turning the volume up and finally taking a bite of his burger.
It was his first lead role, having just finished a television series as a supporting character (Jeon Wonwoo’s no less), which had you questioning why he had wanted to hire you of all people. He had seen you at a cafe and over the course of watching you carefully organizing your notes, taking various phone calls (because in this day, everyone preferred standard texting and email), and overall meticulously and painstakingly writing out your agenda for the week, right down to being able to pencil in a nap, he introduced himself to you. Of course you were starstruck and even a little afraid; of course you had a crush on him because of course you religiously had watched his show and were -unsurprisingly- counting down the day until you had a moment to watch his debut as a lead, not a side character. You first thought it was all a joke, some prank that was waiting to happen because of a date you had rejected a few days prior. Even when he reassured you that the offer was legit, you were skeptical because you were a student, not someone who had experience scheduling people’s life into your notebooks and keeping them busy.
He convinced you though, and as he got bigger, so did your paycheck, enabling you to pay off your debts and continuing your schooling online. He was happy with your choice because it meant he could spend time with someone around his age, and not lose his roots of being a young adult, trying to get parts of his life together. He didn’t tell you this sober but one night that he had too much to drink, he called you, emotions and alcohol impairing his speech but being able to thank you for being in his life and that the real reason he hired you was because he wanted someone to call a friend and remain faithful and not let fame get to his head. Thinking about that now, made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, despite shivering from your cold drink sliding down your throat. “I’m glad you hired me,” you commented to no one in particular, but you know he needed to hear it sometimes.
“Even though I scared the shit out of you?”
You mulled it over just a bit. He only reason he had come off as intimidating as he did was because of his height. He towered over you and you were initially afraid that if you rejected his offer, he would do something, so you fearfully agreed. Needless to say, he was as scary as a housefly. “Even then.”
He smiled in your direction. “Me too.” And just like that, his own eyes closed, the long day washing over him as he fell asleep, the burger half eaten on his lap.
*
The movie, needless to say, was a complete success, breaking his previous record and going straight to #1 at the box office on opening weekend alone. It helped with all the time he spent with his costar outside of the filming sets and with whatever you were able to book whether it had been planned from the get go or some strings his agent had helped pull as well as charity events.
Kim Mingyu had a certain boyish charm to him that had eyes on him constantly and the more he was seen in public, the better. His biggest asset, ironically enough was his clumsiness. Most, if not all, of his fans related to him due to clips you constantly uploaded to social media of him dropping things, falling from his bed, him forgetting about that last step at the top of the stairs which because you were busy recording, often had him tripping over it and taking you down with him.
Any dating rumors were squashed as quickly as they surfaced, which intrigued his fans as well as his costar’s and many quickly integrated, shipping them and discussing conspiracy theories that proved they were secretly together.
It was a funny thing seeing them fighting amongst the fans that were convinced it was you dating Mingyu. I mean, with all the time you spent together and all the times you’ve blocked each other and going live about it, it did seem rather likely. You yourself almost believed it, but you knew better and how well he maintained his professionalism with everyone. In all the time you’ve worked for him, he’s been in one steady relationship with someone when he went back to his hometown after his big break and was outed. It was apparently quite the scandal. Your quick thinking gave him time off and how to address the situation when the time came but that you knew of there was someone else a little before you were hired.
It seemed he brought back the zombie trend with his latest blockbuster because in the weeks that followed, you saw a lot of makeup tutorials that resembled the undead and official merch were popping up everywhere. You showed them all to Mingyu who never ceased to be awestruck and sometimes even dumbfounded because he was just doing his job: being someone else while maintaining his own personality.
His latest success meant a lot more interviews which was fine with you both until you had to leave him for a week because of a termite infestation that occurred in your apartment complex and while the bad news was that it was condemned, you were able to throw your belongings in a storage unit and you decided to deal with that after Mingyu took time off. During that time, you had a realization of just how much time you spent together. It was strange looking a few feet away from you and not seeing the six foot human within eyesight and sometimes you could swear that you heard his voice somewhere. You missed him terribly, you’d admit that much. It was one thing when y’all had vacation time and purposely silenced your work phone but it was another thing to constantly be checking on his replacement to make sure he was on schedule and you followed up with Mingyu himself because he knew how you could be. His favorite phrase seemed to be, “There was a little hitch...kidding!”, followed by his predictable events before ending with a subtle whine of when you were coming back which had him counting down the days, even though yougave him a wrong estimate.
The day you were due to come back, you were running late, leaving you frustrated because you had planned to surprise him over breakfast, but because life and delays, you didn’t get to him until late afternoon. According to the day’s schedule, he was at a fan meet, so you hightailed it to the venue and arrived, skid marks all but visible as you flew in. His replacement assistant looked relieved seeing you back, adjusting the headphone/microphone set that allowed you to hear what Mingyu and his fans were discussing in record time. You caught a lot of questions of why he looked so bummed and if everything was okay, and you could imagine him smiling as he assured everyone he was fine. He was not fine; he didn’t have you, according to everyone.
So you went up onstage to where he was at, putting a finger to your lips to hint at everyone waiting for him to remain silent. Because he was the star, he was at the very end, so it was quite a trek in your opinion at least, turning off your headset so the feedback wouldn’t give you away. You were behind him as a preteen fan finally reached him, trying to hold in her giddiness at seeing you two together. You waved her and her grin widened. “H-hi.” She held out a picture of him for him to sign. “C-Can I ask you a question?”
Mingyu nodded, the already preparing himself for his own generic answer as he autographed the photo. “Fire away.”
“Would you consider yourself brave like your character?” She eyed you when you put your hand over your mouth to hide your snort. Mingyu was about as brave as Winnie the Pooh going after heffalumps. It was you who often had to kill the spider to stop him from burning the place down. (No, you actually stopped by his place once to see him dousing his kitchen table with gasoline.) He’s even said he was staying with you once the apocalypse happened. (He was convinced it was inevitable.)
It still surprised you when he shook his head. “My character can do things I can only dream of like leading people and saving them and telling them what they need to hear. I can’t even say something without being afraid of what someone is gonna tell me…”
“Can I ask you something else?” She whispered this so low you almost missed it had Mingyu not nodded.
“If you could say something without fear...without consequence, what would it be?”
Smart kid, you figured, in both the question and the way she said it. It was a question that had you pondering.
Mingyu also seemed caught offguard by it, racking his brain to see how he could answer. Finally he spoke. “I guess I’d tell someone I’m close to how much I love them.”
“What’s stopping you Oppa?”
“A lot of things, I guess.” Her eyes widened and when they flickered to you, you shook your head, and used it as the opportunity to announce your presence by grabbing his shoulders and making him jump. You were really curious about who he was talking about, but that wasn’t your business.
“Yah, you punk,” he scolded you, “you were supposed to be here two days ago.” He broke out into his signature grin. “I missed you.”
“And they're here to see you,” you gestured towards his steadily growing line that had their phones out, recording the little interaction. You backed away slowly as he returned to his adoring fans, hearing everything they said, smiling at some of the comments and laughing when you heard something particularly funny (mostly when they mentioned him looking cheery because of a certain someone cough cough you.) Once the event was over, he rushed over to engulf you in a well deserved hug because in Mingyu time, a week was the equivalent of two years. You wrinkled your nose. “You’re gross and sweaty. Go shower and change your clothes. I’m gonna help everyone pick up.”
“But I wanna take you out to dinner. I haven’t seen you in a week. My shower can wait. ”
“I’m not going near you until you’re clean,” you pointed out. You folded a few chairs and took them to their place. “Why are you still here? Go.”
*
You felt like you could use the shower, but at least you felt useful. The crew thanked you tenfold and bid you a great evening as they retired for the day. You were happy to report to Mingyu (once he got out that is) that this was his last thing for awhile so he could finally go on that vacation he was planning, which sucked on your part because you just got back and you were already gonna separate again. And not to mention the house hunt you were about to go on. You walked back to where the dressing rooms were, hoping to rush the actor.
He was already waiting by one of the front doors, leaning against it. You walked up to him and he surprised you by meeting you halfway, saying nothing. He ran a hand through his damp hair, studying you, a very un-Mingyu like thing to do.
“Hey,” you greeted him shyly. “You ready to get going?”
He walked up to you slowly, a rather bashful smile appearing on his face, giving him the look a child who’s about to ask if he could have ice cream before bed, and expecting a no in return. “I...just have to do something first.” He bit the inside of his lip, exhaling slowly, gaining courage before taking your face in his hands and kissing you hesitantly, slowly, carefully, but reluctantly pulling away to assess your reaction, foreheads touching. You remembered what he had said to the young fan earlier, blanking out on what to tell him. The only logical reaction was to stare at him puzzled, and he chuckled, despite it not going how he quite imagined it, his voice sounding deep and labored. “I talked to a fan earlier, before you got there, and she asked me if I could do something and not be scared and she asked why I hadn’t done it yet…”
“Me?” You cut him off.
“You heard?”
“I caught a few of your conversations but I thought you’d had enough of everyone asking why you were sad. I didn’t think…” You exhaled. “Why me?”
“Why not you? Everything you do for me...to pushing me so I’m on top of it, to assure me I’m doing all I can, to just making sure I’m not overworking myself, and-and even with how much time we spend together...how can I not pick you?”
“It’s my job. I’m supposed to do all of that.”
“Y/N, not even my agent knows what I’m supposed to do until she has orders from you that it’s been okayed from physicians to trainers to nutritionists. I...I don’t know anyone else that would go that far. I’m pretty sure you even know when I’m about to get sick because sometimes I get a hint of something medicinal in my drinks.”
It was hard to look away from him, especially when his gaze was unwavering and he was as close to you as he was. You cared about him and his wellbeing; it was obvious enough when you let him get an extra hour or two of sleep instead of rushing him out the door to get from point A to point B, and when you cut off his sugar supply when he’s had enough; you even squeezed time in with his old friends because he worked hard, sometimes too hard. You tenderly brushed his hair from his face. “Me?” you repeated incredulously.
He nodded, looking as sure as he felt. “You.” He finally allowed himself to smile. “I just...I really love you.”
Your heart pounded at his confession. He had thousands, if not, millions of admirers worldwide, a dream to everyone who had known or met him, and his own heart...was yours. You hadn’t expected your eyes to shut to keep the tears in, but they did and it was your turn to exhale. “Mingyu.” You paused. “This isn’t just something because I just came back, isn’t it?”
“I missed you the whole time you were gone,” he confessed. “But it was also more than that. Every time you’re not around, it’s hard for me to focus and get everything done. It’s like part of me is missing and it’s dumb because I know you’re always here, but I’m afraid that one day you’re gonna go somewhere and not come back and the only thing I’ll have to remember you by is a text saying you’re sorry.” He shook his head at the thought, his confidence deflating because you hadn’t said anything to accept or reject him.
“Kim Mingyu, I think I’d at least tell you in person because really? A text?” You smiled at your half assed attempt to make him laugh, but you poked his cheek upward. “I-I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to. We’ve done too much together as it is...and it’d be a shame to not know what could be between us.”
He perked up at that. “I...you mean that?”
“Oh my god Mingyu! Just ask me out or I swear-” He cut you off with another kiss, this one longer and more passionate and full of happiness that radiated onto you.
#seventeen#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen kpop#kim mingyu x reader#kim mingyu imagines#kim mingyu scenarios#kim mingyu#mingyu scenerios#mingyu x reader#seventeen au#mingyu au#kim mingyu au#seventeen oneshot#mingyu oneshot#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop fluff
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Dwyer who hasn’t had much conversation with M!Corrin but thinks he’s really cute. One day he over hears a rumour that Corrin is into guys with some meat on their bones so Dwyer starts to gain steadily in hopes Corrin will notice and when ever he’s around Corrin he will just get super flustered and when Corrin looks over he just sees a flustered and tired over weight Butler. And yes Corrin falls for him immediately
Ever since Corrin rescued him from the Valla Soldiers during the raid of his deeprealm, Dwyer had fallen for the Nohrian prince, and his attraction for him has only grown bigger since then.
Dwyer never paid any mind to most of the things he said, since he never cared about what anyone but his father thinked about him, but whenever Corrin even talked to him he would become a flustered mess, stumbling over his words and his cheeks turning the same color of Corrin’s beautiful red eyes.
Whenever he tried to talk to Corrin, his mind would go blank and leave an awkward silence around him. Corrin would obviously try to lighten up the mood, but Dwyer knew he was just doing it to be nice.
He resigned himself to not winning over the Nohrian prince, after all, Corrin’s army was a very large army, and that meant a lot of options, and who would pick the insomniac asshole? That’s what he thought, at least.
Hell, how did he know Corrin wasn’t straight? He assumed that he might’ve had a thing for either Silas or for Jakob, the latter option making him shriek in disgust, but it seemed that it was nothing more but a mix of Corrin’s kindness and his adorable naivety showing whenever he’s talking to people.
Because of the seemingly impossible task of having Corrin be into him, Dwyer had fallen into a bit of a bad mood, and he did what he did best- repressing his feelings and ignoring them with work.
He spent the whole day cleaning the whole camp- Washing the dishes, dusting each room, washing all the clothes, preparing tea for at least 30 people, and a whole lot of other things that that helped Dwyer block feelings that were Corrin-related.
The day soon ended, and Dwyer was still cleaning room after room, and he had finished Keaton’s room, a room that Dwyer would classify as a clusterfuck. He then realised that there was only one room left- Corrin’s room.
“Shit.”
He thought of simply not cleaning Corrin’s room, but he immediately thought how much his father would boast about doing what he “forgot” to do.
Dwyer would rather die than let his father enjoy winning in the butler business, so he took a deep breath, and opened the door of Corrin’s room.
The Nohrian Prince’s room wasn't very messy. It had a few things laying on the floor- A bronze sword, a bag of vulneraries, and a small diary. Besides that, only a few tables required dusting and the sheets had to be changed.
After doing all the chores, he picked up the prince’s belongings that were on the floor- Dwyer polished the sword, put the vulneraries in their right place, and he was about to pick up the diary, but a rush of curiosity took over him. If no one found out, what was wrong with some snooping around?
He opened the diary and started reading the first few pages. It was mostly battle strategies and venting about how much of a bad father Garon was, but when he got to the middle point he started to notice some notes based on how he felt about the other members of the army.
Dwyer felt a small rush of happiness when he saw notes about how some of the guys were cute, so he was definitely not straight, at least that was something that made his day a little bit better.
He continued to scroll through the pages until the notes started to focus on something very peculiar- How fat they were.
Notes about how Keaton’s gut was very hairy, how Benny’s soft stomach complemented his adorable personality, and a lot of other details that Dwyer felt kind of weird reading. He didn’t expect Corrin to be this kinky.
Dwyer suddenly heard footsteps, and he quickly placed the diary on top of the night stand that was next to Corrin’s bed.
As he made his way out of the room, he met face to face with Corrin, to his dismay. Dwyer felt his cheeks burning as he gripped his cleaning utensils.
“H-hey, Lord Corrin…”
“It’s nice to see you again Dwyer. I heard that you cleaned all the camp, so I wanted to congratulate you on being a valuable member of the army!”. He shook Dwyer’s hand firmly with a huge smile on his face.
Dwyer felt a rush of adrenaline. How could he be so adorable?
“T-thanks. I’ll go to sleep, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s no big deal, Dwyer. Just know that you can stay in your room if you desire so, you worked hard today.”
Being congratulated by Corrin made Dwyer’s heart skip a beat. He was just so nice and kind that it made it impossible to not smile whenever Corrin talked.
Dwyer opened the door to his room and he flopped into his bed. It only dawned on him how tired he was, even more than his usual sleepiness.
He then started to think about what he read in Corrin’s diary. Dwyer found it interesting- Discovering that Corrin loved men like he did, how he was infatuated by their stomachs, and how he seemingly thought that the bigger a guy was, the better.
And suddenly, he had an epiphany. Corrin was into bigger guys, so then he came into a conclusion- If he wanted to win over Corrin, he had to pack on some pounds.
It wouldn’t be hard, since he wasn’t eating “super healthy” in comparison to the rest of the army, snacking mostly on pastries, so he just had to eat a little bit more than usual to catch Corrin’s attention. He had a head start as well, since he was already a little bit chunky.
Dwyer immediately got up and headed to the kitchen. He made sure no one was there so that he could eat at his heart’s content.
The coast was clear, and he started to grab everything he needed to start baking. He used the multiple ovens to bake multiple things- A chocolate cake, a batch of chocolate chip cookies, a pumpkin pie, and a batch of blueberry muffins.
While everything was baking, he munched on some biscuits inside the pantry. He really enjoyed how his father baked them, even if he would never admit it.
Soon after, the ovens finished heating all of Dwyer’s snacks. He placed all of them in the table, and licked his lips in pleasure as his stomach grumbled.
He grabbed a fork and a knife and started with the pumpkin pie. Dwyer cut a big chunk of the pie and shoved it into his mouth. He moaned as he felt the intensely good flavor of the pie.
“Oh man, I’m such a good cook.”
Dwyer soon dug into the rest of his giant meal, his taste buds being constantly bombarded with more and more sugary flavors.
The cookies were soon gone and only left a trail of crumbs on top of Dwyer’s chest, the muffins were shoved one by one into Dwyer as he slowly chewed them, and the cake was furiously devoured by Dwyer, even grabbing some chunks with his bare hands and shoving them in his mouth.
He ate like he had never eaten before, during every single bite he thought about Corrin, and how much he would hug him and kiss him after getting fatter.
If every day was going to be like this, Dwyer was going to enjoy one hell of a lifestyle.
---
Dwyer woke up, and immediately headed for the kitchen. He made sure to wake up early, something that he has never done in his life, to grab as much food as he could. He wasn’t in the mood to be judged by his father.
The butler grabbed as much as he could find- A plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes with chocolate chips and whipped cream, bacon sandwiches, a plate of biscuits, and a small slice of cake.
The same thing that occured last night happened again. Dwyer ate shamelessly, thinking about how good it would feel for Corrin to squish his belly, and how it would feel even better when he got as big as Corrin wanted him to be.
By the end, Dwyer’s belly was bloated, his pajama shirt’s buttons were straining, and his face was red as a tomato as he felt a mix of pain, embarrassment, pleasure, and satisfaction as he rubbed his belly.
His stomach growled in order to protest the amount of food that was put inside of it, but Dwyer didn’t care. He was too busy planning out what he was gonna eat for lunch.
---
A month had passed and Dwyer had certainly packed on some extra pounds. His thighs had grown in size dramatically, his butt growing juicier and making his undies and pants struggle to contain it, a pair of moobs starting to appear that seemingly looked as big, if not bigger, than Kagero’s, but the biggest thing was his gut. He couldn’t even see his feet now, and carried his giant stomach with pride.
He noticed Corrin was starting to pay attention to him, catching him staring and freezing every time they encountered each other in the hot springs, allowing the Nohrian prince to get a good look at his giant body.
Dwyer decided to wait a few months, allowing him to grow even bigger. Just in case “competition” showed up (Keaton had started to become plump as well, but nowhere near Dwyer’s current weight)
He woke up, taking off his sleeping clothes, that were nothing but a pair of dark blue briefs that really accentuated the roundness of his butt, and put on his new butler clothes, that were custom made to accommodate to his gargantuan size.
Dwyer knocked on Corrin’s door, his bigger size giving him a boost of confidence he desperately needed.
Corrin opened the door, but his eyes widened when he saw the bigger and fatter butler towering over him. A small blush appeared on his face as he waved his hand in order to say “Hi”
“Hey Corrin…” Dwyer had a shit-eating grin in his face. He knew Corrin was currently crazy for him, since every time he cleaned his room he took a small peek into the diary of the prince. “I’m pretty hungry…”
Corrin fumbled with his words before managing to mutter “D-do you want food?”
Dwyer patted his belly. “Yeah… I’m in the mood for wyvern steak.”
Corrin ran into the kitchen embarrassed, Dwyer being able to hear the prince the phrase “Oh My God” repeatedly under his breath.
The dragon prince came with a catering cart full of multiple plates that had dishes that had a giant wyvern steak on top of it, and when he opened the door, Dwyer was laying on bed in othing but his boxers, giving him a cheeky smile.
Corrin’s face went red and he shut the door, not wanting to be seen doing something so embarassing.
Dwyer had finally stolen the Dragon prince’s heart, and his love for him was almost as big as his gut.
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