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broadwayandnetflix · 3 years

Note

i have a request for bo burnham!!:) maybe like the reader and bo watch the special when he gets done editing it and doing all the other stuff he has to do for it, and he records her reaction to the whole thing and that’s how he announces the special?? i know that’s weird but it’s been stuck in my head, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

Test Run - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: FLUFF (angst if you like squint)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: y’all I wrote this so fast, like kachow. I hope you enjoyed it, and got a break from all of the angst. but angst is still good. but this fic is not me fangirling over inside. never, couldn’t be me. I hope you enjoyed the fic though @bos-a-feminist I had sm fun writing it.

It had been late one evening when Bo had practically burst into the door of your bedroom. You sat puzzled as you gave the man time to catch his breath, as he gave you an eager look.

Trying not to giggle as Bruce yipped at Bo’s feet in pure excitement, it seemed he too was trying to figure out what was going on.

“What? Are we finally gonna have sex again?” you say humorously, causing the man to break composure for just a second.

“No! I mean what the fuck? Yes, yes, and to answer your question, yes. But not right now.”

You giggle as he looks at you with an expression you couldn’t fully decipher. In any constellation, it had been months since you had seen the man this energetic.

Usually, when Bo would come back from his long days in the guest house, he’d tend to be exhausted. Often just giving you a quick kiss before collapsing onto the mattress.

His blue eyes softening towards you as he extends his hand for you to take. Which made you realize that there was an ounce of seriousness in his actions.

Your hands fitting perfectly in his as he pulls you up from the bed, one hand making sure to hold the small of your back.

“Where are we going?” you breathe out.

Bo remained silent, but you found out soon enough as he led you outside to the guest house.

You had stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to do the same. Eyes widening as you realized what was gonna happen, turning to Bo and giving him the biggest grin you could muster.

From the minute he had set foot in the guest house to begin his special, he had been very secretive about it. Something about how it helped him to create something that no one really knew about.

I mean, you had some idea when the UPS trucks kept delivering camera equipment. Or when he had asked if he could take some of your clothes. Other than that, though, top secret.

It had been about roughly a little over a year when he had started the special. A year of emotions and hard work, and by the looks of it.

It seemed as though he had finished.

“Wait are you doing what I think you are doing?” you say, looking at him expectedly.

“Shit babe you catch on quick. Yes, if we are on the same mindset. I think we are, now hush, or I’ll never get to show you it.” Bo instructs before leading you inside.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. The last time you had seen the guest house had been roughly two years ago. Now? It looked completely different.

Wires and different camera equipment lay waste on the floor, making it almost a hazard. Other lights of various types and sizes filled the room like mini metal trees. It looked disorganized and yet organized at the same time.

Yet Bo walked through the maze of equipment with ease, almost as if it wasn’t even there. You smiled before tiptoeing to the clearing that Bo had made for you.

“Yeah apologies, I wasn’t expecting company.” Bo smirks as you break into laughter.

“It looks…well it looks well used.” you reply, getting comfortable on the chair he had provided.

In front of you sat a projection on the wall of what seemed to be an editing software. You looked back at Bo with an eager grin; he gives you a slight wink.

Anticipation settling in the air as you watched him mess around with the monitor. Until his cursor finally presses on a folder and a video screen pulls up.

You half expected him to sit beside you. Still, instead, he remains behind the computer, amongst his sea of technological instruments and cameras.

“Y/N, I’m showing this to you. Simply because you deserve to see why I’ve been so busy for like a year or more. Plus, you mean the world to me and I wanna know your input.”

Bo says softly. You can detect a hint of nerves in his actions and tone; you practically melt, realizing that was he anxious. Regardless you knew without a shadow of a doubt you were gonna love whatever he puts out.

You open your mouth to reply before he presses play, and an eerie ringing fills the room. Music filling your senses as the special, titled Inside, plays before you.

The next hour or two fills you with a multitude of emotions that you can’t quite place. It seemed like Bo was making you laugh seconds ago, and now you can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes.

Cinematically it was stunning, breathtaking even. It was hard to believe that Bo had turned the little guest house into a studio. Or at least to the extent that it became, with its gorgeous displays and production.

Performance-wise, it was a completely different ballpark. Bo fucking delivered in more ways than one, whether in humor or just pure raw emotion.

Acting or not, it broke your heart to see the man you loved so dearly in the state that he was in. Of course, you could tell something was up even then when he was filming, but he never gave away the extent of it.

Just hearing him cry made your stomach twist in knots; you wanted to comfort him. Only to be reminded that it was just merely a video of him.

Even at the moment, it took you everything not to look back at Bo; you knew how much he valued your attention. Plus, you wanted to experience the special in full, just as you would if he were on stage.

The special wasn’t the same as his others, but it was well needed for a time like this. It felt personal and introspective, but it was also oh so clever and in-depth. You adored it and the time and effort that he had put into it.

As the credits rolled out and you saw an acknowledgment for your name, your heart soared.

You knew that the two of you had worked hard to be there for each other the past year. Especially with everything that was going on and Bo working most of the time.

To know that you had helped him in any shape or form. It just meant a lot, in more ways than he’d ever know.

The lights in the room flickered on as if he had made a make-shift movie theatre. You wiped away any stray tears, and before he could even say anything, you ran into his arms.

Bo jolting back in surprise before accepting the embrace and holding you tighter into his chest. His head resting gently on top of yours due to his taller stature.

“God I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. I seriously don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive this past year if I didn’t have you.” he croaked into your hold.

It took you a second to realize that the man was crying, and you pulled away to meet his eyes. Your fingers brushing away his tears before reaching up to give him a kiss.

His figure bending down just a tad to meet your lips as he kisses you back sweetly. It’s light and yet so filled with passion for making up for what time that had been lost.

Yet as he looks down at you, a smile etching across his lips. As he asks you about what your thoughts are on his special, he already knows your response.

Unbeknownst to you, he had recorded your entire viewing experience. Of course, if he were to ever share it anywhere, he’d ask your permission, but it was apparent.

Even as you told him how much you loved it and how much you enjoyed it. You knew that he knew that you understood the special the way he had intended it.

It was one of the many things that made him adore you endlessly. You meant the world to him.

“We should celebrate babe! Maybe order a pizza or something.” you exclaim, arms still wrapped around his neck in your embrace.

“We definitely should, but what pizza places are open at this hour?” Bo smirks as you give him a slight frown.

“I don’t know, that’s a good question.” you hesitate.

“Actually I do know one place that’s really good and delivers.” Bo whispers seductively up against your ear.

You giggle and gesture for him to continue as he swiftly pulls away from your hold. His hand outstretched for you to take once again as he leads you towards the house. Or, more importantly, towards your bedroom.

“Me.”

——————————————————————------------------------------------

Bo sat anxiously beside you as his fingers lingered over the ‘post’ button on his different social media accounts.

The post in question was a video that he stitched together of you watching the special. With your consent, of course.

It had been edited together to be vague enough that he wouldn’t spoil the special. But nonetheless, it was sweet, and he totally made sure to include you tearing up in it.

You made it a priority to tackle him for that one.

The video was sweet and short, but it got the intended message across, and you personally loved it, just like you loved Bo and the special.

“Any-day now Robert.” you tease as you hold his one hand in yours.

“Do you think that they’ll wanna watch it?” he whispers quietly.

“Of course they will, it’s you. Baby you are so talented, your fans will be so excited.” you reassure.

Bo sighs before squeezing your one hand tightly before pressing the button. And letting Inside out into the world.

#@broadwayandnetflix #bo burnham x reader #bo burnham #bo Burnham x you #2021 #fluff #Fanfic Request #inside #make happy #words words words #what

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lulu-zodiac · 3 years

Text

Hidden in Plain Sight

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Jeremy Bradshaw

Tags: Early seasons Dean, pre-podcast Professor Bradshaw, denial, unresolved sexual tension, bickering, smut, gratuitous owl references, case fic

Summary: It's the fall of 2006, and a string of grisly deaths linked to local lore brings Sam and Dean to the village of Bridgewater. There, Dean finds himself working closely with the frustrating and unexpectedly compelling Professor Bradshaw.

---

Dean feels about as comfortable in old colleges as he does in churches. There’s the same sense of exclusivity, that same reverence of things Dean has spent his life stuck on wrong side of. This campus even feels a little like a church, with its old architecture and sprawling ruby ivy and slit windows like narrowed eyes. His footfalls echo heavily along the cold stone corridor, making him feel uncomfortably aware of his own existence.

The door he’s looking for is old and made of oak, nestled in an alcove near the staircase, with a small plaque on it that reads Professor J Bradshaw.

Dean pauses for a moment, then knocks abruptly, suddenly noticing his knuckles are still smudged with earth. From within, a muffled voice instructs him to enter, and he does so, wiping his hand surreptitiously against the side of his leather jacket.

The first thing that hits him is the sheer volume of books in the room; they clutter every available surface, piled high in front of the big bay window like a strange line of defense. There are stacks of loose papers everywhere too, haphazard but clearly organized, some held in place by empty coffee mugs or odd-looking artefacts. The air is bright and warm, like this room catches the sun when it’s slow and mellow in the afternoons.

The second thing that hits him is the man sitting at the desk.

He doesn’t look up at Dean’s entrance, continuing to scribble away in a leather-bound notebook with intent dexterity, seemingly utterly lost in his own thoughts. He’s not what Dean expected; surprisingly young, maybe approaching forty, with a sharp jaw and tousled hair that just brushes his broad shoulders. When Dean clears his throat awkwardly, the man finally looks up with striking blue eyes that immediately pin Dean in place.

“Yes?” his voice is inquiring and several octaves deeper than Dean would have imagined, low and gravelly. He sets down his pen, looking at Dean with piercing focus.

“Uh – hey. Professor Bradshaw?” Dean feels distinctly self-conscious.

“Who wants to know?” the man closes his notebook with a snap and stands with surprisingly fluid ease, eyes still intent on Dean as though he’s cataloguing him.

He’s wearing a faded navy-blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up, slightly crumpled shirt tails poking out at the hem, just visible.

Drawing on years of sizing people up, Dean guesses that the guy probably has no one to go home to at night. If he goes home much at all, that is; the office has a distinctly lived-in look. It’s strangely reminiscent of the makeshift home feel of the impala’s interior.

“Um – Dean. Dean Collins,” Dean answers hastily, suddenly realizing he’s spent a little too long looking. “I’m uh – a student in one of your classes,” he lies the best way he knows how: with a charming smile. “I was wondering if you’ve got a moment? I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions about your work.”

“Come in, please,” Professor Bradshaw sits back down behind his desk, and gestures for Dean to close the door. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Dean shuts the door and awkwardly removes three hardback books and a small, slightly drooping fern from the only available seat in front of Professor Bradshaw’s desk.

“Sorry – let me –” Professor Bradshaw leans over the desk to relieve Dean of the books and the plant. Close up, Dean can see faint lines softening the corners of his vivid eyes, and when he breathes in, he catches a hint of peppermint and the musk of warm skin, strangely compelling. Their hands brush for a moment as Professor Bradshaw takes the items, and Dean flinches, jerking away and planting himself firmly on the chair.

“So – Dean, yes?” Professor Bradshaw settles back into his seat. He’s still looking intently at Dean, gaze startlingly blue.

Wordlessly, Dean nods. He doesn’t know why he can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re not in any of my classes, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, with a slight edge to his voice. He reaches for a half-drunk mug of tea on his desk, expression skeptical.

Dean feels his stomach drop. “Uh, yeah – I’m new, just transferred a couple weeks back,” he bluffs quickly, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. He feels strangely flustered, visible.

“No, I don’t think so,” Professor Bradshaw says, flatly. “I believe I would have noticed,” he adds, wryly, with a kind of impatient warmth in his expression that makes Dean’s cheeks flare with heat all over again. Professor Bradshaw merely swallows a mouthful of tea and sets the mug back down, still looking at Dean. “So. Who are you?”

“Alright,” Dean puts his hands up in mock-surrender, smiling wide even though he feels stupidly on edge, knocked off course. “You got me. I’m – uh – a journalist. My boss has me writing a piece on local legends, and I was hoping to pick your brains. Heard you’re the expert on all that stuff around here, and thought I might be in with a better chance of talking to you as a student instead of some annoying reporter.”

“I see,” Professor Bradshaw leans back in his chair, contemplative. A shaft of sunlight filters through the bay window behind him, illuminating a hint of tawny in his dark, untidy hair. Dust motes hang everywhere like suspended snow. “Well, luckily for you, Dean, I find that my students can be just as annoying as reporters. And I still talk to them on a daily basis.”

Dean grins a little awkwardly, “Yeah?”

“Of course, I do get paid to do that,” Professor Bradshaw adds, dryly. “But perhaps I do them a disservice. Some of them are really quite inspiring.” He pauses, raising his mug to his lips. It has an owl on it, Dean notices absently. An overly fluffy one, with a slightly threatening glare. “I daresay I can spare five minutes. What is it that I can do for you, Dean?”

“Uh, so you study the supernatural, right?” Dean asks, clumsily. His hands are sweating where they’re shoved in the pockets of his jacket. “Ghosts and demons and all that shit?”

“I study the lore and mythology of supernatural beings, and why it’s important to humans to create such stories,” Professor Bradshaw clarifies, shortly.

“Right, got it,” Dean agrees, hastily. “But you’d know a bit about the Bridgewater coven?”

“I am familiar with the legends, yes,” Professor Bradshaw replies, reaching for his mug again. There’s an ink stain on the side of his index finger, smudged deep blue. Dean fleetingly wonders if it would rub off easily if he touched it, if it would leave a ghostly imprint on his own skin.

“Yeah – uh – so there’s been quite a lot of interest in the coven recently,” Dean blusters, annoyed with himself for how stupidly flustered he feels, “You know, since those bodies were found last week? At the burial site in Bridgewater Forest that’s associated with the legend? Yeah. Well, anyway, I was – hoping you might be able to tell me a little more about the legend of the coven.”

“I don’t see what the recent tragedies could possibly have to do with the legend,” Professor Bradshaw narrows his eyes skeptically.

“Right – yeah – nothing, I’m sure,” Dean lies hastily, “But the location of the crimes has definitely raised awareness about the existence of the legend, and that’s what we really want to provide for our readers.”

“Well, certainly, I can tell you the history,” Professor Bradshaw replies, briskly, “In fact, I teach an undergrad course on witchcraft in history and my lecture this Wednesday actually covers the legend of the coven. If you want a more detailed, nuanced version, you’re more than welcome to come along then – it’s at 11am in the Milton building. But I’m happy to give you the short version now, if that would be helpful?”

“Thanks – yeah, that’d be great,” Dean says, gratefully. “On a bit of a tight schedule today.”

“Well, the local legend about the Bridgewater coven has existed for almost two hundred years,” Professor Bradshaw starts, and immediately Dean can picture him talking in front of a lecture theatre full of kids. He’s a natural, something inherently captivating about the way he speaks. “In the 1800s, this village was an important site of religious pilgrimage. However, according to the legend, the village was also home to a small coven lead by a witch named Iris. Iris’s coven was said to have lived in secrecy in the forest on the outskirts of Bridgewater for years, and not to have troubled the village people. However, by 1816, the legend claims the coven had become very hostile, specifically towards the church. There were fears the coven had begun indoctrinating – or bewitching – members of the congregation.”

Professor Bradshaw pauses, swallowing another mouthful of tea. The muscles in his throat work, drawing Dean’s attention to the way his pale blue shirt isn’t buttoned up properly. He’s filled with the sudden, inexplicable urge to button it up correctly.

“More and more people started disappearing in connection with the coven,” Professor Bradshaw continues, setting his mug back down on the desk, and Dean jerks his gaze guiltily away from the line of his throat, clenching his hands into fists inside the pockets of his leather jacket. “The rapidly diminishing congregation lived in terror. The remaining members of the church all turned against each other. Then, at the height of local hysteria, Iris is said to have murdered Blanche, the minister’s daughter, in what is portrayed in the lore as some kind of statement of the coven’s power over the church.”

“Bet that didn’t go down too well,” Dean remarks, sardonically.

“Quite,” Professor Bradshaw catches Dean’s eye, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Anyway, according to the legend, the tragedy of Blanche’s death united the warring members of the congregation. They captured Iris and entombed her alive, using her own magic against her to keep her trapped. Iris’s death broke the spell on the members of the congregation who’d been indoctrinated against their will, and peace was restored to the village. The few remaining members of the original coven fled and were never seen again.”

“Wow,” Dean raises his eyebrows, “Very love-thy-neighbor.”

Professor Bradshaw snorts, “Yes. Religious leaders in the 1800s were renowned for sitting down and resolving their problems through compassionate discussion,” he remarks, dryly.

“Okay, but what about the other versions of the legend?” Dean asks, trying to remember the things Sam had told him to ask about, but drawing a total blank. His brain feels weirdly scrambled. It’s hard to remember what happened before walking into Professor Bradshaw’s office. “The other stories about the coven I’ve come across so far all seem pretty different.”

Professor Bradshaw frowns slightly. “It’s true, there are many conflicting accounts. Which is often the case with legends, being human constructions of the past,” he regards Dean slightly disapprovingly over the rim of his owl mug, a kind of skeptical stubbornness in the set of his mouth. “It’s not about knowing which ‘to believe’ – it’s about looking at why historically people have favored one version over the other and what that tells us about them.”

“Right, yeah, but aren’t legends often based on fact?” Dean pushes.

Professor Bradshaw pauses, contemplatively, “Yes. That’s certainly true in some cases.”

“Do you think it’s the case in this one?”

“Possibly,” Professor Bradshaw replies, haltingly. His expression is serious and he hesitates for a moment before elaborating; “In fact, I’m currently writing a paper about the historical figures who feature in the legend of the Bridgewater coven.”

“Yeah? Which ones?” Dean presses. He’s used to having to fake interest to get information out of people like Professor Bradshaw, but for once, he finds he’s genuinely interested. There’s something compelling about Professor Bradshaw’s evidently obsessive quest for obscure answers, something that resonates with all too much familiarity.

“Iris, predominantly,” Professor Bradshaw replies. “I’m very interested in the historical reasons women were condemned as witches. Often, it’s as simple as jilted male lovers using accusations of witchcraft as a means of revenge, or the women using herbal remedies that threatened contemporary male ideas of medicine and the body. Sometimes it’s to do with female homosexuality and society’s unacceptance of same sex relationships or women as sexual beings. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for gay men to be condemned for witchcraft either. But statistically, more homosexual women died as a result of such accusations.”

“Uh – right –” Dean swallows, looking away. His hands are sweating again, and he wipes them surreptitiously on the insides of his pockets. Clearing his throat, he changes the subject, suddenly remembering the other thing Sam had told him to ask Professor Bradshaw about, “What about the runes?”

“Ah yes, the runes on Iris’s supposed tomb,” Professor Bradshaw’s gaze is suddenly inscrutable in a way that makes Dean’s heart thud uncomfortably in his chest. It sweeps over Dean, lingering and unnervingly blue for a moment, before he continues, “Very interesting. I’ve been studying them a great deal as part of my research. The true nature of them has always remained a mystery, and any attempts to discern their meaning haven’t fitted with the legend at all. I believe they may be key to understanding the history behind the creation of the legend. But,” he smiles, wryly, “It’s not an easy task. They’re unlike any runes I’ve come across anywhere else before.”

“Can I see?” Dean asks, partly out of interest, and partly for some way of distracting himself from the way his heart is still thumping uncomfortably fast.

“You’d have to visit the forest burial site to see them in person, but I do have a couple of sketches of the lines I’m working on at the moment,” Professor Bradshaw gets to his feet and crosses to the cabinet by the window, pulling the top drawer open.

The fall chestnut trees outside smolder amber behind his silhouette, midday sunshine pale gold and still where it filters through the window. Time seems strangely irrelevant. Dean watches as Professor Bradshaw flicks through a green binder, fingers quick and dexterous, skilled and uncalloused in a way Dean’s have never had the chance to be.

Dean swallows and looks away, ignoring the thud of his heart as he stares around at the rest of the room. He clocks a bunch of compendiums of mythology on the bookcase nearest him, and two other eccentric and slightly neglected looking plants. There’s a thick plaid rug on the couch in the corner, not quite concealing a plate of half-eaten toast. On the windowsill, there’s a little tin mug with a toothbrush in it that makes Dean wonder again just how often Professor Bradshaw goes home at all. He finds himself wondering whether Professor Bradshaw has always had nothing but an empty house to return to, or whether that’s a more recent development. He’s definitely old enough to be going through a divorce. The thought sits uncomfortably in Dean’s chest for reasons he doesn’t particularly want to identify.

“Here we are.” Professor Bradshaw’s gravelly voice, suddenly much closer, makes Dean jump. He glances around to find Professor Bradshaw standing beside him, holding out a sheet of paper. The smell of warm skin and peppermint catches Dean off guard, stronger this time, and still strangely compelling.

“Uh – thanks,” Dean says awkwardly, taking the proffered page. He feels Professor Bradshaw’s fingers brush against his fleetingly, warm and ink-stained.

Dean swallows, forcing himself to focus on the page in front of him even though his cheeks are hot with something he doesn’t want to think about. The sketches are good, a few strange vaguely Norse reminiscent symbols drawn hastily with accompanying, scrawled notes in the margins. There’s something about the runes that niggles at Dean’s brain, familiar and unfamiliar all at once, like something he’s known his whole life but can’t put his finger on.

“These are interesting,” Dean he frowns, tracing his finger along the two last symbols.

When he glances up, he finds Professor Bradshaw looking at him intently, blue eyes inscrutable. “Yes,” he says, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms across his chest. “Those are the ones which struck me too,” he’s speaking a little quieter, low voice distracting Dean from why the runes are so familiar. He hopes he can remember them, that Sam will be able to place what he can’t about them.

“So, uh, this tomb. The one with the runes on it – that’s definitely where that guy’s body was found last week? It wasn’t just nearby or something?” Dean forces himself to ask, ignoring the way his heart is suddenly thumping again. “And the girl found the week before – she was directly linked to the burial site too?”

Professor Bradshaw clears his throat, unfolding his arms. “I believe so, yes.”

“And that doesn’t seem – I don’t know – a little strange, to you?”

“Human beings committing violent acts against each other is generally something I find a little strange,” Professor Bradshaw replies, in clipped tones. “But beyond that – no. Now –” he breaks off, glancing at his watch. “I’m afraid I have a seminar to deliver in ten minutes,” he confesses, and there’s something unfinished about the way he says it, something almost reluctant. Like he half wants to stay here talking with Dean.

“No problem,” Dean stands, and takes a last glance at the sketches before handing them back, trying to commit them to memory. “Thanks, Professor.”

Their eyes meet as Professor Bradshaw accepts the page, and the room suddenly feels very airless, a pause suspended between them. Neither of them moves away.

This close, Dean can see miniscule flecks of grey like tiny stars lost in blue of Professor Bradshaw’s eyes, the way that his full lips are slightly chapped, like maybe he worries them between his teeth when he’s thinking. They’re soft pink and warm-looking, and Dean wonders fleetingly if they taste like peppermint tea.

“It was nice meeting you, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, gently, and his eyes are so blue.

“Uh – yeah – you too. Thanks. I’d – uh – I’d better get going,” Dean stammers, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and cursing the way his cheeks are suddenly flaming with heat. His thoughts churn unsteadily; he ignores them the way he’s learnt to.

Still feeling strangely wound-up, he nods awkwardly at Professor Bradshaw and turns reluctantly towards the door.

“Wait a moment, Dean –” Professor Bradshaw’s voice halts Dean in his tracks as he reaches the door, and Dean turns expectantly, heat thumping a little painfully.

“Yeah?”

“Here – you’re welcome to borrow a couple of books on local history,” Professor Bradshaw is pulling a couple of books down from the overflowing cabinet by the window. “They should have a bit more about the legend of the coven that you might find interesting. Divergences of the legend and so forth. I’ll need them back by Thursday morning as I’m teaching a class on them in the afternoon, but you’re welcome to borrow them until then if they’d be helpful.”

“You sure?” Dean takes the proffered books awkwardly, and swallows the strange disappointment sinks in him like a stone as Professor Bradshaw steps back again. “Thanks.”

“As I said, I’m also giving a lecture on Wednesday where I’ll be examining the history behind the legend of the coven. I meant what I said - you’d be more than welcome to attend,” Professor Bradshaw says, sincerely. His eyes are intent, and there’s a hint of something almost like hopefulness hidden in the depths of his gravelly voice. Working on long ingrained instinct, Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Thanks, I’ll – I’ll see what my schedule’s like,” Dean replies, haltingly.

“Of course,” Professor Bradshaw agrees. He turns back to his desk.

“Can I ask –” Dean pauses, watching Professor Bradshaw stuff another notebook and a stack of handouts into his briefcase. “You said you’re writing a paper about the runes at the forest burial site– do you go to there much?”

Professor Bradshaw glances up, distractedly. “Yes, I spend time there every week.”

“So you haven’t noticed anything – I don’t know – anything unusual when you’ve been there recently?” Dean ventures.

“Unusual how?” Professor Bradshaw closes his briefcase with a snap and looks up at Dean properly, eyes narrowed with sudden skepticism. It’s stronger than the hints Dean has caught at other points during their conversation, sharp and blue, a world away from the observant warmth of a few moments ago.

“I dunno – odd noises, sudden drops in temperature, shadows –”

“Just what are you asking me?” Professor Bradshaw demands, voice clipped and defensive.

“Have you seen anything like that?” Dean presses, stubbornly. Irritation prickles his skin.

“No, I haven’t,” Professor Bradshaw says, bluntly. “And you know why? Because yes, I study the supernatural – but it’s not real, Dean. I don’t know what kind of sensational article you’re writing about local lore, but I can assure you, lore is all it is.” He winds a striped scarf haphazardly around his neck, and grabs his briefcase off the desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

Sam is eating some gross looking granola yoghurt pot with a plastic spoon when Dean eventually clambers back into the car, feeling distinctly frustrated.

“You took your time,” he remarks idly, raising an eyebrow as Dean adjusts the mirror with an unnecessary amount of force and turns on the ignition.

“Goddamn waste of time was what it was,” Dean mutters mutinously, pulling out of the space and then immediately being forced to hit the brakes when a cluster of students cross the parking lot in front of him. He grinds his teeth and resists the urge to honk the horn. “Thought I was getting somewhere but he completely shut down the minute I asked him if he’d noticed anything weird at the burial site.”

“Suspicious?” Sam frowns, through a mouthful of granola.

“No, don’t think so. Just really damn touchy,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as he waits for the students to move, “And a bit of an asshole. I dunno, suppose working in his field he’s probably used to people thinking he’s just some lunatic who believes in the supernatural.”

“And does he?”

Dean snorts. “No way. He’s got a real bee in his bonnet about it. You’d think someone who’s spent the last twenty years with their head buried in books about ghosts and covens and demonic possession might be a little more open to the idea,” he shrugs, and gives in to the temptation to lean on the horn, reveling in the brief satisfaction of making the students jump and scurry out of the way, “But no. The guy’s absolutely blind to it all, and could rival you on stubbornness.”

Sam purses his mouth in annoyance, but doesn’t rise to the bait. “Get anything useful at all?”

“He did lend me a couple books,” Dean admits, nodding in the direction of the backseat. “Have to take them back on Thursday morning, though. He needs them for some class.”

“He leant you his books?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugs, skin prickling in annoyance, “What of it?”

“Dunno, that’s just,” Sam swallows a mouthful of yoghurt, “Pretty trusting. Academics usually treat their books as if they’re their first borns.”

“Don’t mess them up when you read them, then,” Dean says, dismissively, as they pull out onto the main street. “You find out anything useful about the victims?”

“Not really,” Sam leans back in his seat with a sigh, “Both from middle class, religious families. Seem to have been pretty well liked by people. Hard to establish any link more than that. The wife of the guy that was killed last week seemed a bit cagey, though,” he shrugs, “Might be worth a second visit to see if she’s holding out on us about something.”

“Right,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as they wait for a light to change. It’s starting to drizzle, tiny flecks of grey hitting the windshield. “Are we still definitely thinking ghost?”

“Seems like it,” Sam affirms, “The way the victims died definitely points to a vengeful spirit. But the place they were killed – connected to the burial site associated with the coven? I don’t know, I was thinking maybe it’s no ordinary ghost. Maybe it’s the vengeful spirit of a witch, and that’s why it’s so powerful?”

“Hm,” Dean mulls it over, flicking the windscreen wipers on as they continue to wait. They squeak slightly, repetitive and familiar. “You could be onto something there.”

“Yeah?”

“Professor Bradshaw was telling me about the local legend of the coven. Apparently, its leader was entombed alive by a bunch of angry churchgoers,” Dean steps on the accelerator as the light finally changes, and the rain-slicked village slides past in a blur. “That’s got to be some pretty good vengeful spirit material right there. And you said the victims were both religious, right? Can’t be a coincidence.”

“Why now, though?” Sam frowns. “It’s been what – two hundred years? There must have been plenty of churchgoers who walked by the burial site before now.”

“Dunno,” Dean shrugs, staring out at the rainy smudge of fall colors. The chestnuts trees lining the street are the same smoldering hue of amber as the one outside Professor Bradshaw’s window.

They drive in silence for a few moments, wipers squeaking.

“Okay,” Sam says, at length, “So I’m thinking – we go check into a motel, get through as much of these books from your professor as we can while we wait for the rain to stop, and then check out the burial site later this afternoon before it gets dark?” Sam asks, chucking his plastic spoon in the empty yoghurt container.

“He’s not ‘my professor’,” Dean says defensively, and suddenly has to step a little too hard on the breaks to avoid running a red light.

“Alright,” Sam says, slowly. “Okay.”

“Anyway, yeah,” Dean blusters, hastily, ignoring the weight of Sam’s gaze on the side of his face, “Works for me. But first,” he flicks on the indicator and pulls into a space near a little line of local shops. “Food. Not that yoghurty shit you’ve been eating. Real food.”

The forest is steeped in quiet in the way all ancient places are, fall singing the leaves on the gnarled branches that claw their way towards the fading gold of the late afternoon sun. Dean breathes in the wet, cloying smell of moss and follows Sam’s careful path through the trees. There’s a chill in the air, but the handle of Dean’s blade is hot in the palm of his hand.

“How much further to this place?” he hisses at Sam’s back, swatting a frond of bracken out of his face and casting his gaze edgily through the twisting branches and burnt amber.

“Nearly there, according to –” Sam stops so abruptly that Dean nearly collides with him, throwing out a cautionary arm.

“What?” Dean whispers urgently, instantly drawing his blade. His heart is racing now, whole body tense, coiled, ready to attack. His gaze flickers rapidly through the mess of branches and he stands on his tiptoes, trying to see past Sam’s stupidly large frame. “Sammy,” he hisses, impatiently, when Sam doesn’t immediately answer, “What is it?”

“There’s something there,” Sam breathes, almost inaudible. His posture is still, alert. Dean can see Sam’s hold on the gun in his back pocket tighten.

“What kind of something?” Dean whispers, craning his neck to try and see. The light seems somehow dimmer already, the fading sun sliding further towards the ground. When he breathes in, the smell of wet leaves is stronger, now that they’re in the heart of the forest. His heart is thrumming so fast but everything else feels suspended in time, unnaturally still.

“I think it’s a person,” Sam murmurs, and somewhere close, Dean hears the brittle rustle of dead leaves, loud and unnerving in the wooded quiet. He watches the quickened rise and fall of Sam’s shoulders as his breathing suddenly sharpens. “They’re holding something. They – shit, Dean, they’re coming this way.”

Dean reacts immediately and on nearly twenty years of protective instinct; he shoves Sam out of the way and stumbles out into the clearing, blade brandished in front of him.

---

#did i really just create a new ship tag on ao3 just because i couldn't get the idea of early seasons dean and pre-podcast jeremy meeting?#yes #yes i did #feedback truly makes my day <3 #crossposting from ao3 #bridgewater #bridgewater podcast #supernatural #dean winchester #jeremy bradshaw #dean x jeremy #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #my stuff #my posts: fanfic

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just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh · 3 years

Text

Waiting Room

Summary: Stiles is badly hurt, with only y/n to save him

Pairing: None in particular but sort of reader X Derek?

Warnings: Mentions of blood and fighting, also talk of hospital

Word count: 2188

Original piece please don’t copy :)

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Sitting in the hospital chair with your head in your hands you focused on your breathing.

Out

Flashes of claws plagued your vision, swiping before you.

Out

You scrunched your eyes hearing the piercing sound of your own scream, the eerie sound playing back in your mind, filling your head.

Out

You sat up leaning back against the plastic chair, rubbing your face up and down trying to regain some perspective. You stood up, unable to sit in those horrid chairs any longer and also wanting to be moving, anything to distract yourself.

Pacing back and forth in the hallway you consistently looked up at the closed doors in front of you.

‘SURGERY – Authorised personal only beyond this point’

The door stood still, you begged for it to open, for someone to come and tell you, they were okay, that they would survive. You needed something, anything to hold on to. Even false hope was still hope right?

Shaking your head, you sat back once again on the hospital chair.

***

“Y/N RUN” Stiles screamed.

You barely had a chance to face the boy before you were knocked to the ground, the cold floor welcoming your body. Whatever it was that knocked you was now headed towards stiles. You blinked a few times, trying to stop the world from spinning around you. You pulled yourself up against the lockers that lined the boys changing room. Wincing as you touched your forehead, your fingers instantly becoming coated in blood. You looked up and saw Stiles slowly backing away from a large figure, his arms up in defence. You could see his mouth moving, but the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing Stiles’ pleas.

Eventually Stiles had retreated as far as the room would allow, feeling his back against the wall, his hands searched either side of him, a failed attempt at finding something to defend himself with.

The assailant’s hand was raised, his claws gleaming in the poorly lit locker room, and in one swift motion he had sliced Stiles’ stomach.

You screamed as his body slumped against the wall, the attacker simply left the room, disinterested in continuing the fight he thought was futile. Stiles’ torso began turning ruby red, the blood coating his middle in moments.

Scrambling to your feet you ran to him.

“Stiles? Hey, it’s okay I’m here I’m here” the words came out weaker than you intended. He looked up at you, his hands covering his stomach, a useless attempt at stopping the bleeding. You looked around the room, you needed to stop the bleeding. Grabbing a towel from a nearby bench you wrapped it and placed it on his abdomen, he grimaces at the sudden pressure.

“I’m sorry okay, I gotta stop the bleeding, just stay with me okay? Don’t you dare leave.” His slight head nod was all you needed to know he heard you.

“You gotta keep talking to me okay? I need another towel, and I’ll call an ambulance, or I’ll call Scott and we will get out of here okay?” You pleaded, trying to convince yourself it was going to be okay. You had seen injuries like this before and they always put pressure on the wound trying to stop the bleeding so that’s a good place to start. Your mind suddenly racing, scrambling to remember information they taught you in that stupid first aid course the school made everyone take. Logical and rational thinking was the only thing that would give Stiles a fighting chance. Placing Stiles’ hands over the now blood-soaked towel, you stood taking a deep breath, and began looking for more supplies.

“Talk to me Stiles, I need to hear you.”

“I don’t want to die at school.” He whispered.

“You’re not going to die; I won’t let you okay? Who else is going to tell me when I’m being dramatic or bring Scott and I into the woods at 1AM looking for a body? Who else is going to defend me even when I’m not there to defend myself? Who else is going to make me laugh when all I want to do is cry?” You finished your sentence as you kneeled next to Stiles, your arms filled with towels. Removing one you replaced it with two more, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You gotta tell my Dad, y/n”

“What? Tell your Dad what?” You were focused on his stomach, placing towel after towel anywhere you saw red.

“Tell him I love him okay?” Your breathing hitched in your throat and you looked up at the boy. His face was pale, more so than usual. His eyes lacked the spark that normally filled them.

“He knows Stiles. He knows.” Tears brimmed your eyes.

“You gotta tell him though okay? Promise me?”

“I promise, but you have to promise me something too.” He looked at you, unable to continue talking, allowing you to proceed. “You have to ask Lydia to the winter formal.”

His eyes widened, and mouth opened to object, no sound passed his lips.

“Come on Stiles, if- No- WHEN we get out of this, you have to do it.”

Stiles nodded as his eyes began to droop closed.

“No no no, you can’t Stiles come on.” You reached up to his face, your blood-soaked hands covering his cheeks with the liquid unintentionally. You shook his head and begged him to come back to you.

His breathing shallowed, only a whisper of air exchanging in his lungs.

The next few minutes were a blur. You had called an ambulance and then called Scott. Rode in the ambulance to the hospital and were told to wait outside while they wheeled Stiles into surgery. You stood at the entrance of the doors just staring, unable to move from your spot. Maybe if you didn’t move you would wake up from this horrible dream. Maybe if you didn’t move Stiles would walk out of there telling you it was all a mean joke. And so, you stood. Until a nurse came and asked about your head. You didn’t hear her the first few times she spoke to you, until she placed a hand on your shoulder, and you snapped out of your trance. Your face was wet from the tears you had no idea were even falling, too numb to feel anything other than helplessness.

The nurse walked you to a vacant bed, holding your arms and leading you away from the door you so desperately wanted to stand before. She cleaned your hands, the red painted sink yet another reminder of the events. She cleaned your wounds and stitched your forehead together before placing a bandage on your forehead. Her question didn’t register with you the first time, your eyes fixated on the wall ahead, the imagine of Stiles’ body permanently engraved in your mind.

“Sweetie?” You looked at the nurse. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” The sympathy evident in her eyes and tone of voice. Taking a few moments to answer you searched your mind for who you might want to call. Your parents were out of town on business, too busy with their jobs to worry about raising a child. Scott was already on his way, bringing Derek with him. The face of the sheriff came to the forefront of your mind. Feeling the guilt of having to tell him that his only son, his only child, was in a critical condition all because you wanted to sneak a copy of the test answers from Coaches desk, a fresh batch of tears lined your eyes.

“McCall.” You whispered. “Mellissa McCall.”

The nurse simply nodded and left the cubicle.

‘Mellissa McCall can you please report to emergency bay 3 please, Mellissa McCall to emergency bay 3’ the intercom speaker sounded through the hospital.

Moments later the privacy cloth dividing your bed from the emergency room was whipped open. Mellissa’s distraught face appeared behind it, she ran towards the bed, wrapping her arms around you and tightly holding as your body collapsed into hers.

“I tried Melissa, I tried but there was so much blood and it was everywhere-” you began

“Shhh it’s okay you did great okay?” she comforted.

“I can’t tell him. I can’t tell his Dad, I can’t.” You begged.

“Hey, we will do it together okay? I’m right here.” Melissa always had a way of soothing anyone. Maybe it was her motherly touch or the way her voice had a calming tone to it, but it always helped. Always. After a few minutes she pulled away, told you she was going to call the sheriff and ask him to come down, then she was going to go into the theatre to check on Stiles’ progress.

Leaving your cubicle, you sat on the chairs in front of the surgery. Your head hurt but it didn’t faze you. Losing your best friend was at the forefront of your mind and the thought of not having your cheeky sidekick beside you was too much to handle.

Quick footsteps sounded the halls and your heart raced. You weren’t ready to tell Sheriff Stilinski about his son. Looking up you were somewhat relieved to see Scott and Derek.

“Hey.” Scott said softly as you raised to your feet and were pulled into a tight hug. “Have you heard anything?” Shaking your head, you pulled away, not wanting to make eye contact with the werewolf Infront of you, too ashamed to see the distress on his face knowing you caused it.

Scott stepped back allowing Derek to hug you next. He didn’t let go when you tried to pull away after a few moments, knowing you needed to be held just a little longer. Sniffling, you pulled back, Derek allowing you to this time. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, his hand comfortably placed on you hip.

Collectively everyone looked up at the sound of another person running towards you all. A worried sheriff Stilinski appeared at the end of the hall, sprinting towards you. Before he could ask where his boy was and what had happened, the surgery doors swung open, a gowned-up Melissa exiting the room. She removed her protective gear and took a deep breath. Derek pulled you closer, preparing for the news.

“He lost a lot of blood. Almost too much.” She looked towards the sheriff. “But that boy in there is as stubborn as anything. The doctors believe he will make it.” Everyone sighed in relief and Derek pulled you into his chest, closing his eyes in relief. You felt your knees go weak and let out a soft cry.

“Y/n, you saved him.” Melissa approached you. “If you weren’t with him, he wouldn’t be here.” You nodded into Derek’s chest, unwilling to separate knowing you would have to face your best friends Dad. Mellissa hugged Scott and then the sheriff, both thanking her for her help.

You felt a hand on your upper back, slowly pulling away from the safety of Derek’s chest you turned to face Noah. His eyes were soft, tears falling from them freely, he softly smiled before pulling you into his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered.

“Hey it’s okay, he’s okay, we’re okay.” He replied.

“I didn’t mean it I swear we didn’t know we weren’t alone.”

“Y/n stop” He paused, separating the two of you, holding you at arms distance and tilting his head down. “We just need him to recover okay? That’s what you need to focus on.”

Simply nodding you were pulled back into the arms of the sheriff. Looking over his shoulder your eyes connected with Scott’s, his worried expression was replaced with one of anger. Eventually the Sheriff needed to sign some paperwork at the front desk, or maybe Melissa just sensed you guys needed a minute. Either way you were grateful for the opportunity to be able to explain the events to the boys.

“Well?” Scott looked at you expectantly. You sighed and looked at your feet.

“We wanted the answers to Tuesday’s test, neither of us had time to study so we figured we would find the answer key in coaches’ desk and borrow it.” Scott rolled his eyes and breathed out heavily, his mannerisms dripping with disapproval. Derek could only watch on as you continued to explain yourself. “When we got there, Stiles said he thought we weren’t alone, I thought he was just trying to scare me. We got to the boy’s locker room and were about to head into coaches’ office when Stiles yelled at me to run. Everything else is just a blur.” Finally looking up and meeting Scott’s eyeline you saw him deep in thought, the stress of the night’s events, evident in every inch of his face. “Scott?”

“I’m thinking.” He was short.

“There’s one more thing.” He looked towards you, ready to be annoyed with whatever you were about to say next. “Whatever attacked stiles, it had claws.” His eyes widened and looked towards Derek who looked like he had just made the same connection as Scott.

“There’s another werewolf in Beacon hills.”

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imaginethoseguys · 3 years

Text

Liquid Courage

Hi, I need to submit a seminar paper in 10 days so naturally I wrote this 3k+ fic for Itadori Yuji girl, bye

Pairing: Itadori Yuji x fem!S/O Word count: 3.3k Warnings: fluff, drinking, drunk confessions, slight angst, au motifs Summary: No matter the chosen activity, Yuji would be equally excited to simply spend time with her. He didn’t even need her to reciprocate his feelings. He felt comfortable in his lovable bubbly state, and she most likely loved him as a friend, so all was well. Trying to take things further would be a risky move anyway and he would not dare take his chances at the expense of making things worse between them because the last thing he would ever want is to make her upset or uncomfortable. He still remembered all her stories about friendships she inescapably lost after the “I need to tell you something” texts in the middle of the night from guys who she felt comfortable enough to be herself with.

Yup, no way that was happening. a/n: Itadori's in his 20s (as well as s/o)

gif credit

It wasn’t Yuji who offered to spend the Friday night at a bar. He didn’t enjoy drinking that much, and there was some weird old movie at the local theatre that they could watch and make fun of together. But it was an unusual occasion, they were on a week-long mission, dealing with curse activity in Osaka, and, well, it was her who asked, so of course he agreed. He never went against her suggestions, he trusted her fully, maybe even too much. Possibly, it was her way with words. Somehow, she knew exactly what to say in situations where Yuji often found himself at loss for words. She was reliable and reassuring and had a certain kind of warmness to her.

Or, possibly, it was Yuji’s six-years-long crush on her that had him blushing and hyperventilating at anything she did, so opinions were divided on this one.

No matter the chosen activity, Yuji would be equally excited to simply spend time with her. He didn’t even need her to reciprocate his feelings. He felt comfortable in his lovable bubbly state, and she most likely loved him as a friend, so all was well. Trying to take things further would be a risky move anyway and he would not dare take his chances at the expense of making things worse between them because the last thing he would ever want is to make her upset or uncomfortable. He still remembered all her stories about friendships she inescapably lost after the “I need to tell you something” texts in the middle of the night from guys with who she felt comfortable enough to be herself. Yup, no way that was happening.

“Oh, look, they have homemade plum wine!” her exclamation brought Yuji’s attention back to reality. “And it’s in pitchers too. Lucky!”

“You do remember you can’t hold your liquor, right?” he said, propping his face on his right hand while watching her mumble giddily “plum wine and soda, plum wine and soda.” She lowered the laminated menu sheet and leveled him with an annoyed gaze.

“I am a grown young woman who earns a living by exorcising curses, I’m pretty sure I can handle a glass or two, Yuji .”

“Including that time when you threw up on Fushiguro mid-conversation?”

“That was graduation! And we did shots.”

“Yeah, it was also 7pm.”

“Enough of you, mister.” She threateningly pointed a finger at him and turned around to call the waiter. Receiving an acknowledging nod in return, she turned back. “Besides, if we’re talking about you, everyone is terrible at holding their liquor in comparison.”

“I’m just heavyweight.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re just a beast machine who suppressed the King of Curses and can run 50 meters in 3 seconds,” she shook her head at her own description, “no wonder you’re Special Grade. Why do you bother drinking at all? Pretty sure it does nothing to you.”

“I don’t do it on my own. I like the company.” He said timidly.

“Aw, see? This is why I love you.”

Yuji’s eyes widened unintentionally, but she didn’t look at him long enough to see it, her attention swiftly taken away by an approaching waiter. He assured himself he was better at controlling his feelings, but it was all falling apart now, like a bunch of lies, because he could feel his entire face and ears pulsate from heat. He stared at the way her lips moved, making the order.

as a friend as a friend as a friend as a friend as a friend

“Yuji? Yuji!”

He snapped back, looking even more surprised.

“You wanted the Ginjo-Shu, right?”

His gaze lingered on her face, open and bright, with eyebrows slightly raised.

“Yeah.”

This is fine.

* * *

“Ah, see? This is exactly what I was talking about.”

Yuji furrowed his eyes helplessly and took the glass from her hand. She tried to down her drink in one motion but missed and spilled it over herself. Looking back now, he wasn’t sure if it was her being lightweight or her not stopping in time.

“When did that even happen,” he mumbled to himself, “she was fine a minute ago.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” she moaned in drunk annoyance, “because I am here.”

“So it seems,” Yuji smiled.

“And I may be many things, but there’s one thing that I am not, and it is deaf. Or stupid.”

“Yup, that’s two things though.”

She sighed loudly and leaned back on the wooden wall of their booth. They were surrounded by soft mixes of white noise: distant frying and sizzling from the kitchen, clinking of glasses, and giddy discussions of the upcoming weekend. They could almost feel like they belonged here, to the normal crowd of Osaka drinking their weekly stresses away, complaining about their bosses, bills, and personal dramas.

Is that what it’s like to be normal? Both of them thought.

Yuji looked over at her and felt the heat returning to his cheeks. This drink spill felt too deliberate to be accidental. And her bra was very thin, and the bar’s AC was on and—

Yuji groaned and swiftly took his hoodie off, almost throwing it in her direction.

“Wear this, please.”

She didn’t really fight it and slowly put it over her head, beginning to crawl inside. She stopped somewhere in the middle and breathed in.

Ah, it smells so good. Smells like him.

She pressed the fabric into her face, taking in his scent. When did he manage to put on cologne? That’s just unfair.

“You okay in there? Are you stuck?” Yuji looked questionably at the wrinkly bundle that was now his hoodie with her somewhere inside.

“Listen, Yuji.”

“You’re just gonna talk to me like this, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a soft voice. “I know this isn’t how you would spend your night, but—I wanted to—you know. But in the end, I just—and—”

Suddenly, she felt a gentle tug, and her head popped out of the hoodie, revealing Yuji’s face lightened by a warm smile.

“I told you, I like the company.”

There was a needle prick somewhere around her heart, and she pressed her lips together, taken by a sudden wave of sadness.

“Let’s get back, yeah?”

* * *

Their hotel wasn’t far from the bar, but due to her condition, the walk back took longer than usual. Summer was ending, the air was still warm, but there was a tingling coldness with each wind blow, a careful reminder of the approaching grey sky and smell of wet concrete, covered by tired leaves.

The path to the hotel entrance was hidden among the sleeping quarters, illuminated by floor lights, and framed by tall bamboo sticks. Yuji walked first and was right in front of the automatic sliding doors when he stopped and turned around to check on her. Instead of right behind him, he saw her at the beginning of the entrance path with her head down.

“Hm? Are you okay? Wait, are you sick?? Then stay right there, if you wanna throw up, do it—um—” he swiftly looked around. Seeing a gardening pot near one of the doors across the street, he pointed at it. “Here, maybe in this pot? Wait, no, this is a nice neighborhood, imagine waking up and finding vomit in your plants… ah, maybe in this bamboo? I’m not sure if it’s real though… ah, but this hotel allows hosting of jujutsu sorcerers because the owner is a friend of someone from the higher-ups, and if we vomit here—"

“Yuji.”

“Oh, maybe vomit in my t-shirt? And I’ll carry it to the nearest dumpster? No, that’s a horrible idea. Are you sure you can’t hold it until we get to our room? Then—”

“I’m not sick, Yuji!” she said loudly, maybe even too much so. “Although all this vomit talk is grossing me out.”

Yuji raised his eyebrows. “Then what’s wrong? Wait, did drinking uncover your hidden phobia of hotels? I read that somewhere…”

She smiled sadly. “You’re such an idiot.”

He bared his teeth, clearly offended. “Well, I’m sorry for trying to be helpful! Jeez, if you can’t walk – just say so, I’ll carry you to our room.”

“I don’t want to go to our room!” she yelled again. Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

“Because then we go to sleep, come back to Tokyo and—I—” She squeezed the hem of his hoodie, “and I’ll never get another chance.”

There’s a short silence after her outburst. Yuji glanced over her hands that were clenched in fists and looked to the side.

“I mean, it’s not like this is our only chance to visit Osaka, we can always book a vacation and come back here.”

“Huh? Who cares about Osaka? It's—”

“I’m not very smart,” he interrupted her quietly, “so you’ll need to be straight with me, otherwise I won’t understand what you mean.” Then, his voice got even quieter. “Or I’ll start imagining things that aren’t real.”

“Yuji, I—” she tried to speak fast, because she felt a betraying lump in her throat, “I never wanted to drag you into a bar. There was this old movie at the local theatre that we could have watched, but I—If I didn’t drink, I would have never gotten the strength to say the things that I’ve been meaning to say for a long-long time. And this trip felt like a perfect opportunity, and you’re right, I’m a lightweight and I overdid it, and I was so close to saying it, but I thought—I cherish you so, so much , Yuji, it hurts me to even think about it. I tried to tell you before, after graduation, but you distanced yourself from me that night, so I figured it was a bad idea. I still think it is, but I—Yuji, I—”

Yuji shortened the distance between them with a desperately fast sprint and grabbed her with both of his hands, squeezing her so tight that she could barely talk anymore, her face pressed into his chest. He was silent for a bit.

“I distanced myself from you during the graduation night because you looked so vulnerable. I thought you were doing things you would regret the next day, so I didn’t want to take advantage. Because when you’re like this with me, I,” his hands trembled, “It’s so hard for me not to be selfish.”

“Wait, Yuji,” she tried to move away from him, but no matter how hard she pushed, she would never win Yuji in a battle of strength. “Please, let me finish.”

“No,” he sounded uncharacteristically serious. He lowered his head and pressed his cheek to her forehead. “When you say that this is not the way I would spend my night… You can invite me to dumpster dive or read books about molecular physics in a public library, or lick poles in winter, and I’ll choose it over anything else. When I found out we would go on this mission together, I was so happy. I can be doing the grossest, most stupid, and pointless things, but if I’m with you – it would be the best way to spend all the time I have. I hate being alone, and it's all I ever felt for so many years of life. But when I met you—when I’m with you – I feel so warm. You make me forget about the bad stuff. When you’re next to me, I—I feel wanted. So please,” his hands weakened his grab on her frame, letting her lean back and catch a glimpse of his face. “Please, don’t give me false hopes.”

Their breaths were hot and shaky as they looked each other in the eyes, hypnotised by each other’s presence. She cautiously moved closer to him and cupped his cheeks. Yuji swallowed thickly, he had to stop himself, but her hand was soft and warm, and the number of times he dreamt about this exact moment didn’t let him move an inch of his body. She raised herself on her tiptoes and leaned to his lips. She smelled so sweet, and her body was so close to his that—

“Ghh, stop,” Yuji groaned and pressed his forehead to hers in agony.

“Why?” She asked breathlessly, “you don’t want this?”

“ No ! I mean, yes. God, I want this so much my head could explode, b-but,” he leaned back slightly, revealing his glowing red face, from the neck to the tips of his ears. “You’re drunk, and we’re tired and I,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I want this to be right. If you wake up tomorrow and don’t remember any of this, I—”

“Stop talking,” she moaned and pulled him back by the fabric of his t-shirt, crushing her lips into his, arms then moving up to snake around his neck. Yuji had to resist. He had to, but when she touched him like this, the taste of plum on her lips, and when her—

“Mhm,” Yuji groaned hopelessly, feeling her tongue explore the insides of his mouth. It was hot and wet, and he felt like his heart could stop. Suddenly, he was so putty in her hands, he would do anything for her to keep touching and kissing him like this. No, for her to do anything she wanted with him. He would make a pact with a curse and sell his soul to stay like this a little longer, or to never feel the need to breathe again, so her lips can remain sealed with his forever. Still desperate for air, however, he forced himself to pull away, a shining string of saliva stretching between their lips.

She breathed in, preparing to talk. “I—”

“No, please, don’t say it.” He pressed their foreheads together again, breathing heavily. “Allow me to be selfish. I—I want you to say it tomorrow, in the morning. So that—”

“—It’s real?” she finished for him.

“Yeah,” he smiled bashfully, looking into her eyes. He could see himself in the glassy reflection of her eyes. They were bright and kind, and they looked at him the way he never thought would ever happen. He never thought he would be close enough to her to have the chance of examining just how deep and gentle they are.

Yuji moved a hair strand away from her face. “C’mon, I’ll carry you.”

He lifted her in one motion and pressed firmly to his chest. She could hear the rapid pounding in his chest, and it made her heart race after it. Pressing her ear closer, she could almost hear his thoughts. She didn't really need to hear them, she got the general idea from how uneven were his breaths and how his fingers trembled around her form.

While they waited for the elevator inside, she looked at him.

“Can I keep kissing you?”

His face heated up for a hundredth time this night, as he diverted his gaze nervously. She could feel his hands now squeezing her a little tighter.

“Y-yeah. I would like that.”

* * *

Yuji did not know that pain can bring such an amount of happiness with it. There were two single beds in their room, but they ended up sharing one of them together, which resulted in soreness and numbness in different parts of Yuji’s body. His back ached from arching it so that he didn't fall, and he couldn’t feel his right arm anymore because he went to bed while hugging her. Not that he was complaining though. He could go to sleep on hot coals for all he cared if that meant she would lie on top of him. Feeling her body next to his sent vibrations down his spine. Suddenly, he heard her groan, and his heart fastened its pace.

Nanami Kento was right when he said that getting old is manifested in small things. One of them was getting morning sickness and headaches from any amount of drinking, moderate or otherwise. She hid her face in both of her palms and turned to the side, trying to hide from the morning sun. Sliding the palms down to her chest, she was met with Yuji’s glowing but anxious face: his hair was a mess, and there was a big imprint on his right cheek from the pillow wrinkles. She smiled softly, reaching out to fix one of his hair strands.

“Hi,” she rasped.

“Hi,” he responded, sounding relieved.

“Remind me to never drink again,” she said, turning on her back tiredly. “I lose years of my life from each hangover.”

“I mean, it’s exactly what I’m doing each time, but the strategy doesn’t seem to be working.” He chuckled, slowly getting up from the bed. “I’ll bring you an aspirin.”

Her eyes traced his features radiating in the morning sun as he made his way to the coffee table across the room. He had plenty of scars across his back and more on the chest. None of Jujutsu High students got anything close to normal school life, but Yuji certainly took the cake. And to remain so gratuitously giving and caring all while dealing with so much burden and pressure—her heart sank from just the thought.

She sat up as Yuji sat in front of her on the side of the bed, giving her a glass of fizzling water. She smiled in gratification and brought it to her lips.

“By the way, can you tell me what we ended up doing yesterday? I don’t remember shit,” she said nonchalantly before starting to gulp down the medicine.

The look on Yuji’s face filled with terror and chagrin; he felt his fingertips grow colder as he grasped the bedsheets beneath his hands. He lowered his gaze in silence, feeling the heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Meanwhile, she downed the glass and put it on her nightstand. Looking back at him, she lifted the corners of her lips.

“Kidding.”

He let out a questioning yell and grabbed a pillow, aiming a blow. “You’re so mean! Never ever do that shit again!”

He threw the pillow into her face, and she laughed, grabbing his hand, and pulling him on top of her. Yuji positioned his hands on both sides of her head and felt the familiar heat run up his neck to his cheeks, nose, and ears.

“Sorry,” she whispered softly.

“I’ll think about it.”

She lifted her hands and palmed his face, looking deep into his amber eyes. Yuji swallowed thickly, both of his palms twitching uncontrollably.

“Yuji.”

“Y-yeah?”

“I love you.”

The warmness from her hands went deep beyond his face. He felt her arms reach out gently into his chest and cradle his heart, calming its frantic heartbeat and holding it with such care that it sent lumps to his throat. He fought back the quivering of his lips as her thumb stroked across the scar right beneath his eye.

“I love you so so much,” she murmured fondly, squinting from her growing smile. Yuji lowered his body closer to hers and hid his face in the crook of her neck, hugging her from behind.

“If you don’t stop, I might die.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t… feel this happy.”

She closed her eyes contently and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a slow kiss to his temple. “Well, that’s not for you to decide, dumbass.”

She played with his messy hairs, breathing in his scent.

“But if you don’t reciprocate, I might die as well.”

Yuji rose sharply on his hands and leaned forward, crushing his lips into hers for a quick second.

“I love you,” he said loudly after breaking the kiss. Then he leaned in and kissed her again.

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you,” he kept repeating after kissing her over and over again. “I lov—” She interrupted him mid-sentence and took initiative, thrusting into his lips and parting them with a twirl of her tongue. He moaned and gave in, moving his head to the side.

Please, don’t leave me

I’m with you until the world collapses

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #itadori yuji #itadori yuji x reader

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

a little something for @bruciesnat :) i know i've promised it like a lifetime ago, sorry for the delay! oh, and i decided to combine it with a prompt i also received a long while ago <3

Mike doesn't know why he's doing this. Doesn't understand how he agreed to it, can't comprehend why Erwin would make him do it. Mike doesn't know what he had done to deserve this- this punishment.

He's- he's a good man. An honest one. He serves to ensure the future of humanity, he risks his life to give others a better one.

He's good at it too, he's excellent at fighting and slashing and scouting. He was the best one at it, before- before the annoying midget came.

The same annoying midget, who is insanely strong and easily irritated. The same annoying midget, who has a crush on their adorable Hange. Hange, who Mike has to seduce to test Erwin's theory that Levi, insanely strong, easily irritated Levi, truly has a crush on their Hange.

Mike swallows heavily as he sits next to Hange, just a little too close as Erwin instructed. He smells that it won't end well.

He cringes, as he puts his arm around her shoulders.

Mike likes Hange, a lot actually. Sometimes he feels like they're siblings that were torn apart by some bigger entity. So yeah, he likes Hange. But definitely not like that.

But, oh well, anything for the cause, right?

"Hey, Hans," he murmurs, adopting his most seducting tone. He hopes that his smile is charming enough to captivate their dear scientist. "Are you free tonight? I have two tickets to the theater perfomance," he leans in closer, lowering his voice to what could probably (Mike is an eternal optimist!) be called an enticing whisper. "They're showing the creation of the the Walls tonight."

Somewhere on his periphery, Mike can see a swift dark shadow that oozes the smell of detergent. That shadow, it grows closer, its aura becoming more menacing.

Mike can only hope that if Levi attempts to kill him, Erwin would intervene.

Although... knowing Erwin, he'd just write Mike's death off as a necessary sacrifice.

He takes his hand off Hange. The shadow retreats a few steps back.

"Sorry, Mike," Hange shrugs with a small, apologizing smile. "I showed that play to Levi a few weeks ago. I had my fill of religious propaganda for now. But if you're looking for someone to accompany you," she winks and turns around. Mike's heart sinks. "Levi really liked going to the theatre! He'll be happy to tag along, right, Levi?"

Mike meets Levi's eyes, and sees nothing but desire for murder inside.

Mike quickly scrambles to his feet. "You know, I'll just ask Gelgar to go with me. I'm sure he doesn't have anything better to do."

And they can get wasted afterwards. Mike really needs that after this conversation.

Just as he retreats, Levi takes his place, sitting down next to Hange, also just a little too close.

The mission had failed spectacularly, but, Mike consoles himself, at least he learned that Hange and Levi went to theatre together. And sometimes intel is more important than the victory, right?

Ah, if only Erwin would share his opinion on that.

***

Erwin's second attempt is even worse than the first one, but, at least, this time it doesn't directly involve Mike. Still, he's an unwilling spectator to it, and, just as the last time, he doesn't like where all of this is going.

He already feels bad for the poor guy Erwin hired to hit on Hange during the annual military ball. Where did Erwin get the money - did he take them from the Corps' funds or his own allowance, Mike doesn't know, and, frankly, he isn't sure which option is more disturbing.

At least, the actor is handsome, Mike doesn't know if Hange would like him, he doesn't know if she has a type, and if she does, he hopes it's not annoying midgets, but the guy is handsome, there is no denying that.

Hange has cleaned up fairly well too, the white suit looks excellent on her, bringing out all of her best assets, demonstrating her wide hips and lean, long legs. The hair, gathered in a neat bun, shows her long, gorgeous neck, and the light make-up make her even more gorgeous than usual.

When she and Erwin walked through the front door - him in his blue suit and Hange in her white, symbolising their Wings of Freedom, everyone had their breath taken away.

Even Mike was a little shocked to see Hange dressed up like this, and Levi, who stood right next to him, was completely blown away, staring at Hange with wide-eyed, lovestruck look.

Thanks to Levi's ridiculous expression, Mike now understands why Erwin goes to such length to bring their resident weirdos together. It is delightful to watch Levi behave like that, and Mike longs to see more of this side of him.

Soon after Hange and Erwin make their grand entrance, their guy makes the first move.

He approaches Hange, his eyes bright and smile so charming it makes Mike envious that Hange is at the receiving end of it. He kisses her hand, whispers something in her ear.

"He praises her recent experiment. I thought it was a good place to start," Erwin explains quietly to him.

"Ah," Mike nods. So Erwin thought every detail through? Not surprising at all. "Think this would have an effect on Levi?"

"It already does," Erwin says, pointing to a furious cloud of black hair and suit that is approaching them at a rapid speed.

"Has four-eyes lost all shame?" Levi practically growls, his eyes throwing flames. "Is she seriously flirting with a fucker from the MP?"

"He's not a soldier," Mike answers, reciting a legend Erwin created. "He's actually a wealthy merchant from the South. Heard he sells apples to the King himself."

"And since when Hange is interested in someone like him," Levi crosses hands on his chest, his glare turning even darker, as Erwin's actor takes Hange by the hand and leads her to the dance floor.

"You know, you can ask Hange to a dance," Erwin advices with a pleased smile. "Then she won't be able to flirt with others."

Levi scoffs. "I would rather fight a horde of titans than dance with stinky four-eyes."

Maria, Rose and Sina, Mike thinks. They're worse than children.

"Hange has taken a bath before coming here," he tells Levi.

Levi rolls his eyes. "And now she looks even more awful than usual."

Mike shares a look with Erwin. Does Levi prefer usual Hange, when she doesn't bath for days and her eyes water from the lack of sleep? It almost sounds cute.

"This is the last time I'm attending this shitty ball," Levi swears to Erwin. "Even wine here is shitty."

He marches away immediately after that, heading to the table with wine. Mike can barely stop his laughter, as he watches Levi take a glass of wine, drink a few large gulps of it, and then wince, his mouth moving as he probably murmurs violent curses. He doesn't take his eyes off Hange and her dance partner, and relaxes only when the song ends.

Both Mike and Erwin watch intently as the actor kisses Hange's hand once again. Hange blushes, and Mike almost coos. Levi grabs another glass of wine.

When the actor starts leading Hange away, in the direction of the balcony, Levi starts moving too. He intercepts them just at the edge of the ballroom.

Mike knows he should have expected something like that, knows that Levi doesn't exactly possess the best of manners, but pouring wine over someone? Over his own colleague and friend? Mike certainly didn't expect that.

He's delighted to see what happens next, though.

What happens is that Hange's gorgeous white suit is ruined and Levi wraps his hand around her wrist and drags her to the bathroom. He sports a unusually pleased expression and Hange is laughing herself silly.

Not a bad ending to this endeavor, Mike thinks.

"Another disaster," Erwin sighs.

***

Third time is a charm, or so Mike hopes.

This time Erwin decides to take matter in his hands, and that another sign that this plan will succeed.

The plan is simple, yet, hopefully, effective. Erwin is to whisk Hange away to some remote location, create a scene that would look like a moment between lovers, and Mike is to call Levi there and make sure he witnesses it all.

Erwin is a brave man, Mike thinks, as his Commander explains the plan to him. He would never dare to do something like that to humanity's strongest. To awaken his jealous streak... Mike is glad he's not in Erwin's place.

One sunny afternoon, the plan is set in motion. Erwin takes Hange, and Mike goes to find Levi.

He finds him fairly quickly, in the middle of cleaning Hange's room. Man, he could at least try to make his crush be less discreet. But that's beside the point now, because Levi is cleaning Hange's room and not watching Erwin and Hange. Mike confidently strides up to him.

"Levi! I've just been looking for you."

"What do you need?" he asks boringly. "And have you seen four-eyes? I can't find her all day."

Erwin prepared some legend, a reason why Mike needs Levi, but in the heat of the moment, Mike can't remember a single word. So he just yells "Come with me!" and hope that Levi follows.

Thankfully, he does.

Mike leads him to the stables, where Erwin is already at it. His palm is on the wall, next to Hange's head, and from Mike's point of view, it certainly looks like they're in the middle of... something naughty.

Next to him, Levi tenses, and Mike can practically hear his teeth grinding.

Mike prepares for something very ugly, but then...

"I- I didn't know that Erwin and four-eyes-" oh, fuck, it sounds like Levi is genuinely sad, like he's heartbroken or something. Mike feels a strange desire to hug the little guy and pat his head. But then he remembers that he and Erwin are the reason for Levi's distress right now, and... remorse starts kicking in.

"Levi, listen, it's not-"

"Levi!"

As always, Hange is the one to save the day.

She breaks free from Erwin and sprints to Levi, a wide smile on her face. "You won't believe what Erwin had just told me! He gave me permission to go in the town's library and bring back all the books I want! I'm in dire need of your muscles, humanity's strongest, you'll go with me, right?"

Levi still seems grouchy, but under Hange's sunny grin, his angry facade crumbles. "I don't know if Commander will allow it..."

He doesn't even try to hide his bitterness and irration. Mike disguises his chuckle as a coughing fit.

"Erwin!" Hange turns to him, eyes pleading. "Can Levi go with me?"

"Sure," Erwin nods. "Take all the time you need."

Hange yells in triumph, loud enough to make Mike wince. She grabs Levi by the hand and drags him away. Erwin watches them with a wistful smile.

"I don't think we should get involved in their relationships," Mike says, as he approaches Erwin. He stands close to his Commander, their shoulders pressing against each other. "We should let them figure it out themselves."

"Agreed," Erwin says. "I'm sure they'll manage well enough even without us."

Mike watches Hange wrap her arm around Levi, and is inclined to agree. They will certainly manage without them both.

Or, at least, Hange is able to manage.

And that should be enough.

#levihan

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reignstormz · 3 years

Text

| Lion & The Lamb |

INTRO; After hiding your secret crush on the hottest guy in school since freshman year, senior comes around and you finally come face to face with the Samoan, sharing an intimate moment together.

WORD COUNT; 2,300 (maybe, not sure, had some issues, pretty short)

WARNINGS; Takes place in 1984, Bullying, Sweet interactions.

CAST; Y/N ( Yourself) Y/B/F/ N ( Your best friend's name) Roman, Jey, Jimmy, Naomi, and Galina Anoa'i. (Just a story, not saying Galina is anything like her character in this fic)

MINI PLAYLIST; Give Me Your Love - Pebbles/ Two Occasions - The Deele / Ready Or Not - After 7 / Rock With You - Michael Jackson / Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

🦋

NOVEMBER 9th, 1984

The sounds of teenage laughter filled your ears as you sat in the passengers seat of your best friend's car. You sighed, trying the best you could to block out the noise as you read your book that was sitting in your lap. It was a hectic, busy Friday night. Your school's football team had just won yet another game and everyone was at the Drive In Movie Theatre to celebrate, goof around, or get down to business. Typical things that high school students would be up to. You on the other hand, didn't go to the game and was only here because your best friend practically dragged you out of the house.

You were not so big into the normal teenage, high school experiences. You were very quiet, antisocial, and didn't have many friends. School dances weren't your thing, especially parties. Instead, your way of having fun was just keeping yourself company. You were one of the smartest, if not, the smartest girl in school; You were a straight-A student, and you loved to read. Reading brought you joy and gave you the opportunity to escape to a different reality. Many people labeled you as nerdy, but you could care less.

You were over people picking on you, and judging you, which was one of the biggest reasons why you were so reserved. You got bullied heavily up to 4th grade, and your parents decide to homeschool you until high school came around. They wanted things to turn around for you, but it was the exact same. The only difference was, you made one solid friend and you ate school lunch, something other than food from your refrigerator.

Currently, the theatre was going to show Prince's "Purple Rain" and you were in the car waiting for it to start with your best friend. She also happened to be a cheerleader. You met her in PE class, one joke led after another and you guys became very tight. You were kind of surprised that you two were friends since you were so opposite from each other, and from different crowds.

Y/B/F/N's turned her head to look at you. She sighed, rolling her eyes briefly before she snatched your book out of your grasp. You groaned with irritation, and turned as well to make eye contact with her, "Can you stop? You made me lose my place."

"Can you just have fun for once? Girl. We're at the movies and the first thing you want to do is shove your nose into a book." She shades, throwing your book into the backseat.

"I didn't want to come tonight." You stress to her, "I have studying and homework I need to do-"

"That's all you ever do." She cuts you off. "Come on, you've known how long I've wanted to see this movie. Just do this one thing for me, please?"

"So you want me to sit in a car for an hour?" You questioned. A smile slowly creeped onto her face, which quickly answered your question.

You sighed, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car. She furrowed her eyebrows, "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm getting snacks." You replied, and before you got out of the car she grabbed onto your wrist.

"Can you get some popcorn? Please?" She asked, with clear as day begging look on her face. You rolled your eyes and got out of the car before she asked for candy as well. Any ounce of candy in her system was a not an option, especially since she had to still take you home tonight. As you walked to the concession stand, you saw just about every single familiar face from school. You were so focused on not making eye contact with anyone that you accidentally bumped into another person in front of you, causing their drink to spill all over your white long sleeved shirt. A couple people who were walking by giggled and the girl you bumped into couldn't of been worse.

"Even those ridiculous glasses you wear still can't help you watch where you're going." Galina dissed, looking you up and down before pushing past your shoulder. Her best friend, Naomi, looked at you apologetically for a second before following behind her. You sighed, looking down at your ruined shirt and turned your head, glaring at her. You saw Galina and Naomi walk back to their car, where the the most popular guys in school happened to be. The twins, Jimmy and Jey Uso, were sitting in the trunk of the car while the guy you've had the biggest crush on for the longest was leaning against it.

Roman Reigns was by far the hottest guy you've ever laid eyes on. He was the captain of the football team, he was smart, and also very kind as well believe it or not. You've only talked to him once, and that was when your chemistry teacher paired you two up for a project not too long ago. Roman was nothing but sweet to you, but since you were extremely shy and quiet, you barely said a word to him the entire time. Not only that, you didn't want any rumors to get out that you liked him. You would get teased nonstop, and Galina, who happened to be his girlfriend, would go out of her way to publicly humiliate you. However, it was nothing new. She was the typical mean girl that everyone was afraid of; You, well you weren't afraid of her really, you just didn't have the energy to deal with her bullshit so you always held your tongue.

"What happened to my fruit punch?" You heard Jey ask Galina. She sighed, wrapping her arm around Roman's waist while he looked down at her.

"Some nerd bumped into me and got it everywhere." She replies, and Roman raised his eyebrow.

"What nerd?" He says. Galina nods towards you. Before you and Roman made eye contact, you quickly turned back around and hurried to the bathroom to try to clean yourself up. This night couldn't get anymore embarassing, you thought.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a lost expression. There was no way you were going to get this stain out of your shirt. You heavily sighed, adjusting your slightly crooked glasses. As you let a hand fall from your nose to your chin in stress, a strand of your sleeve ended up getting caught on a piece of your braces.

You rolled your eyes, groaning. You hated wearing braces for a million reasons, but this was the main reason why you couldn't wait to get them off soon. They got caught into everything. You tried again and again to get the strand to untangle itself but it wasn't budging. Shit, you thought. Now you had no choice but to go back to the car so your friend could help you. So many things were going wrong tonight and all you wanted to do was just go home at this point.

You took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone else for the second time. You sighed, closing your eyes for a second before looking down.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, sounding a little funny since the strand was still stuck on your braces.

"Damn, you need some help with that?" An attractive voice said, that you immediately recognized. Fuck, you cursed in your head. You slowly looked up and saw the tall Samoan tower over you with a concerned look on his face. You nervously started to tap your foot and your heart began to beat very fast.

His facial expression turned into an amused one and he gently took the strand out of your hand to help you get it loose, "I'll take that as a yes."

Within a minute, he got the strand loose from your braces and you were finally able to rest your arm by your side. You shyly pulled your sleeve shirt down, "Thanks.."

He nodded with a faint smile on his face. Little did you know, Roman always had a thing for you as well. He knew you as the quiet girl in class, ever since freshman year. It was now senior year and you haven't changed a bit. You guys were in classes together but never spoke before, or even sat together until one project. He admired the fact that you were different; Girls threw themselves at him all the time, which made you think that you could never stand a chance but you were wrong. He loved the fact that you were extremely smart and had a head on your shoulders. You had a unique type of beauty that he adored; The glasses, braces, the infectious laugh and the shyness. Roman deep down has a weak spot for the nerdy girls, even though no one knows about that at all. People assume all the time of what his type is or who he was as a person, when really no one knew who he truly was. The only people that knew him best were his family, and Galina at one point but as time went on Roman wasn't happy with the person she's become.

Galina was practically Roman's day one, they've known each other since they were kids through a family friend. She was never like this intimidating, rude person that she was now. Galina actually use to be very sweet, but ever since high school came around and she started hanging out with certain crowds, that's when the popularity really went to her head. Even though it made Roman sad at times that she wasn't the same person she used to be, he was not afraid to let her know how he felt about it. She promised him she'd change, but she's so far gone that it's out of control. You can't make people change, they have to do that on their own and if not, it's time to let them go. Roman thought about doing that many times, but he just didn't want to hurt her, especially with the history they had. It was just hard all around, and you made it even more tough for him.

"Whatchu' doin here all alone?" Roman asks curiously, then looked down at your shirt subtly. He saw a huge red stain and his mind went back to Galina saying she spilled her fruit punch on someone. He couldn't really make out your face since you walked away so fast, but now he figured out that you were the person that she might of spilled it on. Shit, he cursed in his head. Roman felt very guilty.

You noticed that he looked down at your shirt, causing you to slightly cover yourself from embarrassment. Chuckling nervously, you say "Oh, um. I accidentally spilled my drink everywhere..so I came here to clean it up."

He knew that you were lying since he was aware of what happened, but he didn't push it. He's noticed a lot of people cover Galina's ass so they don't get on her bad side. Roman nodded, looking down and unzipped his black jacket that was apart of his track suit, "I got sum' for you then."

"No no that's okay," You kindly reject. You look behind him to see if anyone walks in on the two of you and your heart starts to race. Lord knows that no one can see you in his jacket. Especially Galina, if so, everyone would be on your ass. You didn't feel like dealing with that drama.

Once he took the jacket fully off, your eyes went directly to his arms. Damn, his biceps were huge. You were completely glued to them until Roman jokes out of the blue, "You know, if you wanna' feel them you can just ask."

You snapped out of it and you covered your face, trying to hold back a laugh while blushing. You looked back up at him with a smile on your face, "That's hands down the corniest thing you've ever said to me."

"At least it made you laugh." Roman says with a small smile on his face. You admire his gorgeous smile while you had one of your own, gently grabbing the jacket out of his hands. You couldn't help but take it after that. This reminded you of all the times Roman would crack the dumbest jokes in class just to get you to smile, since you were so quiet and rarely talked to him. It went over your head that he only did it to impress you.

"I should probably back to my friend before she freaks out." You say shyly, thanking him for the jacket before getting ready to leave. Roman didn't want you to leave since he was enjoying this moment alone he had with you, so he thought fast and quickly stood in front of you. Real smooth, Roman.

You looked at him weirdly and Roman's face turned red. He was going to say something but he completely forgot his train of thought, making you want to laugh. The look on his face was priceless. The both of you grinned at each other before you fell out laughing.

"Don't look at me like that, girl.." Roman said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck while you giggled.

"I'm sorry, but you should've seen the look on your face." You pointed towards his face, not being able to contain your laughter, making him laugh even harder. He had the cutest laugh, you could listen to it all day. Once you guys both pulled it together, you both stared at each other in a comfortable silence before he asked, "Do you mind if I can buy you some popcorn or something?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that Roman-"

"Don't worry bout' it, come on." He chuckles, nodding towards the exit. You smiled at him, secretly loving every second of this. Never in a million years you would've thought a crush of yours would go out of his way to do this for you. Roman was such a good guy; You were having such a bad night before and he instantly made it better.

You both walked out of door and to the concession stand. The entire time, you guys stood there goofing off and talking while you waited in line. As you guys were occupied in a conversation, you noticed that you were getting a couple of suspicious looks since you were wearing Roman's jacket. However, no one dared to mess with you or give you slick comments either since they were shocked that you happened to be friends with him. Roman wouldn't hesitate to defend you if they did anyway in a heartbeat, but they knew better. You've seen Roman on multiple occasions stick up for people who got picked on at school, and it made your heart beat even harder for him. If there was a way you could just tell him how you felt, you would, but there was just no way in hell that was possible.

"Thanks, Roman. Even though I really don't need all of these snacks-" You giggled softly, looking down at the bag of snacks he had gotten you. Even though you couldn't never complain about snacks.

"Shh." He joked, cutting you off and took the opportunity to sneak cotton candy in your mouth so you'd stop talking, making you laugh. Roman smirked, taking his thumb and wiped off your bottom lip a little bit.

A frog got caught in your throat again as he flirtatiously wiped your lip. You both gazed into each other's eyes for what it seemed like forever until you both heard the movie start. You cleared your throat, and from behind him you saw Galina, Naomi and the Usos stare at you while they were still at the car. The Usos looked at each other with dumbfounded look on their face, like they wanted to laugh but they knew Galina would kill them. Naomi softly smiled at the two of you, while Galina had the most pissed off look on her face.

"Hey..I'll see you at school?" You say to him, with a soft smile on your face but not too noticeable since you knew Galina was staring at you.

Roman simply nodded, returning the smile and just stared at you in awe quietly. You said your goodbyes before you went back to your friend's car.

"Damn, Y/N. I just said popcorn not the whole concession stand." She says, looking at me weirdly. Then she just blankly stared at you for a minute before her eyes widen, realizing what you had on.

"Bitch, is that Roman's Jacket?" She squealed, and you hushed her real quick before she got excited.

"I'll explain later, okay?"

Your friend alternated looks between you and the movie, giving you the side eye as she took the popcorn out of your lap, "This conversation isn't over."

TAGS; @gold--gucciempress @wwzentertainment @flawlessglamazon @nicolewoo @romanreignshairdresser @sassymox @pennysky @lemonjvicey @thandiwethagirl @haharollins @rollinshield3 @sheerbeautyreigns @zaddyreigns @brookethegamer @alination @vir-tual @reigns-5sos @wickedsunfire

#roman reigns #1984 #80 #the Usos #naomi wwe #galina anoa'i

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 3 years

Text

Mine

*Daveed Diggs x Reader

*Request: Anonymous asked: “heyyy i really enjoyed reading your writing of Daveed diggs! Can i request one where Daveed diggs and y/n(maybe like a stagehand or a stage manager) meets in hamiliton, and they are friends with benefits, but they also have feelings for each other, and then daveed gets jealous seeing you flirt with other guys and confesses? (iknow its kinda cheesy but... Thanks!”

*Warnings: Language, jealousy, smut (like this fic starts out immediately with a smut scene), light dom/sub, choking, spanking, use of ‘baby girl’, fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, dirty talk, grinding, hair pulling, marking, unprotected sex (wrap it up). Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! I’m beginning to notice my smut fics are a lot longer (this one’s about 7.5k). Anyways this got filthy and I think that says a lot about me lol. ALSO BIG WARNING THE FIRST SCENE IN THIS IS A SMUT SCENE SO YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

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**********

You knew you had to get ready for work, but at the moment, you didn’t care. His hand rested heavy on your hip, grip tight enough to bruise, while his other held your body up against his. He pounded into you, low groans and pants right next to your ear letting you know just how close he was.

“You take me so good, baby girl. So fucking wet for me,” he rasped before biting down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, muffling his noises. You whined, wanting to hear him just as much as he wanted to hear you. He seemed to get the message, kissing the fresh mark before he started talking again. “You’re gonna be late, but you just had to get fucked, didn’t you? Last night wasn’t enough, you just needed me again. I can feel you getting tighter, are you close, baby?”

“Fuck, Daveed, I’m so close. Please,” you whined as he somehow managed to speed up his thrusts.

“Please what, baby? I wanna hear you say it for me.”

“Please let me cum!” Daveed practically growled as the words left you, bringing his hand from your waist to rub your clit. He always rewarded your obedience.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he demanded. The second he gave permission, you could feel the jolts of pleasure through your body as you coated his length in your release. He didn’t last much longer, his thrusts staggered as he chased his own pleasure. He pushed as deep into you as he could before he came with a loud groan, holding you close to him. “Fuck, you always do so good for me.”

You could already feel the fatigue settling in as Daveed moved you to lay with him, his arms around you. If you weren’t already running behind schedule, you would’ve loved to stay there with him, ignoring the mess between your legs until the last possible second. Maybe you’d both drift back into sleep, then go for a lazier round when you woke up again. Maybe he’d join you in the shower, complaining about how hot you always ran the water. But nope, you were already risking being late.

“Alright, let me up. I gotta go shower,” you said, trying to get out of his hold.

“No, lay with me a bit longer,” he whined. You tried not to laugh; he was always so clingy after sex, even when you were on a tight schedule like this.

“I don’t wanna be late. You can stay in bed, but I swear if you’re late, I’m gonna kick your ass,” you warned, finally slipping out of the bed. Daveed mumbled something into the pillow, but you ignored him as you left for your bathroom. As you waited for the water to heat up, you assessed the damage he’d done. Hickies adorned your bra line, finger-shaped bruises decorated your hips, and even though it wasn’t too aggressive at the moment, you could tell the bite mark he’d just left on you would bruise nicely. You ran your finger over the mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so tempted to just go back to Daveed’s warmth in your bed. Before you could convince yourself to join him, you jumped in the shower.

You left Daveed in your apartment with another threat to get to the theatre on time and a reminder to lock the door after himself. The two of you never got to the theatre at the same time, trying your best to hide the little friends with benefits situation you had going on. Sure, people could tell you had a little flirty thing between you, but that was just how the two of you being friends worked. It was always nerve wracking when people (see, Lin) tried setting the two of you up, but you managed somehow. You had the feeling it wouldn’t work if the two of you tried anything more than your current arrangement, not matter how much you sincerely hoped it wasn’t true. You weren’t willing to risk it though, content with just being able to sleep with him.

You enjoyed the walk to the theatre every morning, the brisk air waking you up to deal with everything that was bound to happen during the day. Today wasn’t a show day, so that meant you didn’t have to worry about things going wrong ten minutes before curtain. Rehearsal days were actually pretty calm for the most part. Well, as calm as they could be considering at least half the cast were really just overgrown children.

As usual, you were one of the first ones in the theatre. You took the chance to do your initial once-over, making sure things were where they needed to be for the day. Though you technically were supposed to have one of the stagehands do this, you enjoyed the time to yourself before the day started. Quiet moments were rare in the theatre, and the music playing softly in your headphones allowed you to get lost in your work. The next time you’d get the chance to do this would be after rehearsals were done, and by then you would be too tired to enjoy it.

Once your check was done, all you could do was wait for the others to show up. It would be at least another half hour until people started trickling in - Leslie normally being the first to join you. You waited by the Keurig for your coffee to finish pouring, lost in your thoughts for the things you’d need to do for the day. A new stagehand was going to be joining you, and most of your day would be training them. Even though - once again - this was something one of the stagehands could do, you enjoyed doing it. Before you could get lost further in your thoughts, you jumped at the feeling of a hand placed on your waist.

“What the f-” You turned, tugging one of your earbuds out. You were kind of surprised to see Daveed standing there, smiling wide at your reaction. “What the fuck, Diggs?”

“What? You told me not to be late,” he said, still amused at how he managed to scare you. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t have both earbuds in when you’re here alone, you never know who might come in.”

“Yeah, it might be one of the asshole actors,” you bit back, finally managing to get your heart to stop racing. You turned back to grab your coffee, taking enough of a drink to burn your tongue a bit.

“I mean, you weren’t calling me an asshole this morning,” he teased, leaning in until he was just a breath away from kissing you. Despite your body yelling at you to accept his kiss, you put your hand to his chest to push him back a bit.

“Hey, what did we say about work?” You tried to remind him. Almost getting caught at work a couple times really made it so you had to set at least a couple boundaries.

“Aw, am I really not allowed to touch you, baby girl? You know no one’s gonna be here for a while, we have some time,” he tried convincing you, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. Even the seemingly innocent action had your heart racing yet again.

“Diggs, chill it,” you said, trying to ignore the slight whine in your tone. He was getting to you and he knew it, but he respected your words enough to step back, going to make his own coffee. “So, why are you here so early? I thought you were going back to sleep.”

“I couldn’t after that little wake up call you gave me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes even as you smiled into your cup. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“You guys are gonna run through Act 2, I think. I’m not gonna be too invested in that, though.”

“Aw, why not?”

“We’re getting a new stagehand and I’m gonna train them,” you explained. “I wanna make sure they’re ready to work by the show on Saturday.”

“I’m gonna miss seeing your pretty face trying to act like you’re not staring at me.”

“Bold of you to assume I stare at you when Oak is right there.”

“It’s not assuming since I know you scream my name and not Oak’s.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t scream his too,” you quickly took another drink to hide your satisfied smile. Daveed looked completely offended, exactly what you were going for with your little jab. If you hadn’t been at work, you knew he would do something about it, but he was just going to have to go about rehearsal dealing with it. You didn’t know if there would be repercussions later, but that was all part of the fun.

“You little…”

“Wow, Daveed actually woke up early today?” Leslie interrupted the two of you, already sounding like he’d been awake and ready to go for ages. You didn’t know how true that was, considering it was barely nine in the morning, but he was always ready to go.

“Dude, I’m capable of waking up early.”

“Really? You were dead before that one interview we had-”

“That was at six in the morning!”

“Get on my level, Diggs. I have to wake up that early every day except for show days,” you teased. “Normally Leslie and I get the chance to hang out before everyone else shows up, you’re kinda killing our routine.”

“You hurt me, (y/n). Here I was thinking I’d surprise you by showing up early, but apparently I’m just unwanted,” Daveed whined, finally taking his coffee so Leslie could make one if he wanted to. Leslie was quick to jump in, making himself a mug of tea for the morning.

“I’m glad you understand,” Leslie quipped. “(Y/n) and I have to stick to our routine.”

“I see how it is. I’m gonna go take a nap in my dressing room, come get me when people who aren’t mean get here.” Daveed was practically pouting as he left the two of you, cradling his coffee mug in his hands. As soon as he was out of sight - and earshot - you and Leslie couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore.

“He’s so easy to mess with,” Leslie said once he finally caught his breath. “So, the new stagehand starts today, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t know when they’re supposed to get here, but I’ll probably be training them for the rest of the week.”

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to set when the stagehands get here?”

“Well, yeah, but if people get here early or like a few minutes late then I’m not gonna hold it against them. Public transportation isn’t exactly reliable and traffic is a bitch,” you said, shrugging. “Kinda bummed Angel resigned, though. They were really reliable.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to whip this one into shape pretty fast, though. Don’t worry about rehearsal, I’ll handle it,” Leslie reassured you. If someone could keep an eye on everyone, then rehearsal was bound to go smoothly.

“You’re literally the best, you have no idea how much I appreciate you.” Leslie smiled brightly at your praise.

“You do a lot for us, I just wanna make things easier for you. So, are you and Diggs, you know?”

As amazing as Leslie was, he could also be a bit of a gossip. Not that he would ever share anything, he just liked knowing things. “Nah, you know we’re not like that,” you brushed him off.

“I mean, you could be. I share a dressing room with the guy. I know he likes you,” Leslie said. You had to admit, you were a bit intrigued by this. While you knew the both of you definitely had sexual chemistry - as if the frequent nights spent together weren’t enough to confirm as much - you figured that was where the line was drawn. I mean, you could definitely be physically attracted to someone without being romantically interested in them, and you were sure Daveed only really saw you as a friend. If he didn’t, he would’ve told you by now, right?

“What’re you talking about, Leslie? We’re just friends,” you insisted.

“Sure. So you don’t wanna know what he says about you?”

“And here I was thinking you weren’t a gossip.”

“I’m not usually, I’m just tired of you two dancing around each other.”

“Now you know Diggs can’t dance.”

“Oh haha very funny,” Leslie said deadpan, staring at you. You were trying to use humor to cover up your own curiosity. There was the chance Leslie was just thinking too much into things, being the romantic at heart that he is, and if you got your hopes up just to find out Diggs didn’t actually like you like that? Nope, it wasn’t worth it.

“Thank you, I try,” you said with a smile. “Now, tell me how Nicolette’s doing. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“You know, sometimes I think you like my wife more than you like me.”

“Of course I like your wife more than I like you.” Leslie held his hand to his chest in mock hurt. You smiled. Mornings with Leslie were always fun.

**********

Everyone else started trickling in within the next half hour or so. Diggs finally came out of his dressing room once Anthony and Oak got to the theatre, having some form of protection from your and Leslie’s “bullying”, as he put it. Once most of the cast got to the theatre, you began looking around for the new stagehand. Just as you were prepared to send them a text, you heard someone coming up behind you. You looked up, prepared to help whoever was coming up to you, when you realized you didn’t recognize this person.

“Uh, hi. Are you (y/n)?” He asked fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. Oh Lord, he’s kinda cute. That’s a problem.

“That would be me! Are you Michael?” He nodded, still looking around as though he was scanning the room. Of course he’d be nervous, it was his first day on a pretty major show. He was honestly adorable, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to protect him or pursue him.

“Yeah, uh, sorry I’m a little late.”

“No worries, I know how traffic is. Just try not to be more than fifteen minutes late or I’ll actually have to note it down. Right, I’ll show you where your locker is and then I’ll give you a tour of the place before I start your training. You’ve worked as a stagehand before, right?”

“Yeah, but mainly for community theatre. This is like… really different for me,” he admitted, getting a little flustered. Instead of fiddling with his messenger bag, he went to adjust his glasses, making you melt just a little bit.

“It’s not so bad. C’mon, let’s go,” you nodded towards the locker area, smiling at him.

Daveed watched you from across the room, wondering who you were talking to. He’d never seen the guy around before, and now you were walking off with him. He turned his attention back to the group he was sitting with. “Hey, Leslie. Who’s that guy (y/n)’s talking to?”

“Oh, I guess her new stagehand showed up,” Leslie commented, following Daveed’s gaze. “They’re gonna be working pretty close while she trains him.”

“Shit, really? Why can’t someone else train him?”

“Hey, Diggs, why do you care so much?” Anthony decided to jump in, seeing a prime opportunity for teasing. “I thought you said y’all were just friends.”

“We are! I just don’t like the idea of her being alone with that guy.”

“You sure you don’t like her? Kinda sounds like you’re jealous,” Oak commented.

“Man, shut up. When are we starting?” Diggs asked, trying to change the subject. He looked around, trying to see if he could spot you from where he was, but you were gone. Shit.

**********

Training the new guy ended up taking a lot more of your time than you expected. He was quick to pick up on the little tech stuff from his previous jobs, but you still had to prime him for working with your crew and the cast. Michael stuck close to your side, asking you about little things to make sure he’d be ready for Saturday’s show. Even when he didn’t have to be there - during breaks and lunch - he still hung out with you, just chatting about anything. You had to admit, you really liked his company. He was a good kid.

Being so busy meant you didn’t really get to hang out with Daveed as much, the only real time you got with him was when he insisted on walking you back to your apartment. There were a couple times when you were walking that Daveed took your hand in his, making your heart race. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for him to do, but with Leslie’s teasing at the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but read more into it. Then again, this was Daveed: your best friend that you happened to sleep with multiple times a week.

When the two of you got to your building, Daveed would kiss you on the front steps, that little fire and hunger burning in the movements of his lips against yours. Your body and mind buzzed, overwhelmed with the sensation of him, but your exhaustion would nag at the back of your mind, making you break the kiss far too soon for either of your liking.

“Can I come in?” Daveed would ask, desire evident in the way he looked down at you.

“I’m sorry, I’m just too tired tonight,” you’d apologize even as you wanted to lead him up to your apartment, to your bed. Even though you could tell he was a little disappointed, he nodded, respecting your decision. With a promise to text you when he got back to his place - and the unspoken promise to call until you both fell asleep - Daveed would call a Lyft to take him away for the night.

As you laid in bed, listening to Daveed’s voice over your phone speaker tell you random stories and whatever just popped into his head, you couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would be if you could actually do this. If you could actually fall asleep to him next to you, his arms wrapped around you, maybe pressing a kiss to your head when he thought you were asleep. Sure, when the two of you fucked, he would stay the night and hold you in his arms, talking to you as you drifted off to sleep, but you knew it wasn’t the same. Even though the two of you were friends, you couldn’t imagine you having a right to that if you didn’t provide benefits for the night. So you would settle for the phone calls and the calls of your domestic fantasies.

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were kind of excited. You’d get to sleep in since you didn’t need to be at the theatre until noon, Michael was going to have his first run without you hovering over him like an overprotective mom, and you were finally going to have the chance to spend some time with Daveed after the show. You had to admit, you were looking forward to that last one the most. Not sleeping with him for almost a full week and having that post-show adrenaline? It was going to be fun.

Once you got to the theatre, you were energized. You’d gotten more sleep than you usually did, you decided to splurge a bit on a drink from the overpriced coffee shop down the street, you actually had breakfast for once, things were looking like they were going to be good. As soon as you walked in, Daveed quickly attached himself to your side before Michael had the chance to. This, of course, led to teasing from the others.

“Dude’s acting like he was going through withdrawals,” Anthony joked when he was sure you and Daveed could hear him. He was talking his shit and he wanted you to know it.

“Don’t act like you’re not like this with Jazzy,” you quipped back. As sweet as Anthony (normally) was, he was whipped for Jazzy and everyone knew it.

“Yeah, but she’s my girlfriend. You tryna say something about you and Diggs?” Anthony shot back. Fuck, he had you there.

“Sorry you don’t have any friends so you can’t relate,” Daveed saved you. Anthony glared at him.

“Then what’re all you guys?”

“Coworkers,” you said, completely deadpan. Anthony’s glare turned into a look of hurt. You almost felt bad for him.

“You know what? I don’t like getting bullied like this.”

“Then don’t start shit you can’t finish, Ramos,” you told him. As much of a sweetheart he could be, he was definitely a little shit too. You were beginning to notice that was a bit of a common theme with the people you worked with.

When you and Diggs were in his dressing room later before the show - you putting his mic on for the show - he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. You weren’t used to him being touchy like this, so your immediate response was to gently shove his face with your hand and tell him to stop it while you laughed. He smiled at you, letting you do your job.

“So, you gonna come over tonight after the show?” Daveed asked.

“I dunno, am I?”

“C’mon, it’s been a while. I know I’m not the only one that’s a mess, baby girl.” Heat rushed through you at the pet name, one normally reserved for just the bedroom or when he was trying to rile you up. And he was really succeeding at that second thing. Before you could answer, though, there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

“Hey, uh, (y/n)?” Michael asked, peeking his head in the room. He brightened up when he saw you were in there, though you had no doubt he’d been asking around to find you. “Can I ask you a quick question before show starts?”

“Yeah, sure thing! Just let me finish up with Diggs’ mic and I’ll be out,” you said. Michael smiled brightly before excusing himself, closing the door again. You looked down at Daveed to find him glaring at the door.

“Yeah, you’re definitely coming to mine tonight.” You just tilted your head in confusion, but Daveed only waved you off. You shrugged, finishing your job. You’d have time to ask him after the show.

**********

The show went by a lot faster than you expected it to. Then again, when you were running around backstage, making sure everyone was ready and in places and didn’t have any costume or tech mishaps, you didn’t have a real concept of time. In the brief break you had during intermission, Michael found himself at your side, gushing about how cool the entire thing was. You watched him with a fond smile, glad things were going well during his first official show. You could feel someone looking at you, though, and looked up to find Daveed watching you, obviously not paying attention to whatever Leslie was telling him.

You kept it at the back of your mind as Act 2 started, getting back to your job. There would be time to question him about everything later. Act 2 flew past just as quickly as Act 1, and you watched in the wings as everyone took their bows. Daveed spotted you, giving you a bright smile. As soon as curtains closed, Daveed rushed up to you.

“Just let me get changed and then we’ll head out,” he told you. You could see him almost lean in, but he stopped himself at the last second, opting to ruffle your hair instead before booking it to his dressing room.

“Asshole!” you called out after him even as you laughed. You went to grab your backpack from your locker, not really having a way to kill time after the show. You could always talk to some of your coworkers, but you were sure they just wanted to head home as soon as possible too. You leaned against the wall, just messing around on your phone, when you heard someone walk up to you.

“Hey, (y/n)! I think the show went great!” Michael said as soon as you looked up.

“Yeah, it really did! I heard good things about you today, but how’d your first day go?” You asked, pushing yourself up from the wall. Michael immediately jumped into telling you about everything, really giving off puppy energy. You didn’t know how long you were talking to him, but you could tell he was dancing around something.

“You know, I really appreciate you taking the time to train me yourself. I’m sure I wouldn’t’ve done half as good if you didn’t. Uh, do you think I could like take you out for drinks or something as thanks if you’re not doing anything right now?” Michael finally said.

“Sorry, she has plans,” Daveed said, seemingly coming out of nowhere to put his arm around your shoulders. You jumped slightly at the sudden contact.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna get fucked until she can’t walk tomorrow.” This immediately drew a gasp of his name from you, but he ignored it and continued. “She’s mine, so you might wanna think again about asking her out.”

Before Michael could even think of saying anything else, Daveed practically dragged you out of the theatre. You struggled to keep up with him, cursing his long legs as you tried to figure out what the hell was going on. A Lyft was already waiting for the two of you outside, and he opened the door for you to get in. The ride was quiet, tension heavy in the air between the two of you, and you could tell the driver was a little uncomfortable even though they had no idea what was going on. As soon as you were in Daveed’s apartment, you turned to him.

“What the hell was that?! You really just said that to the new guy?! What the fuck is your problem?” You demanded as he closed the door behind him.

“He obviously has a crush on you, I needed to make sure he knew where he stood,” Daveed said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Even if he does have a crush on me - which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t - you don’t have the right to do that shit! We’re literally just fucking, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You inhaled sharply as Daveed took a step into your space.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Daveed asked, looking down at you. You tried to straighten up to your full height, but the height difference was still enough to make you feel small.

“Get what?” You tried to keep the venom in your tone even as your heart raced.

“It’s not just fucking. It’s hanging out with you even when we don’t do anything. It’s doing anything to make you smile, even if it’s because you’re bullying me. It’s being nervous to hold your hand but never wanting to let go. It’s wanting to just hold you when we’re in bed, not wanting to let you get up in the morning. I’m so fucking in love with you, and I have been for months now,” Daveed said, cupping your face. “I don’t want you with anyone else. You’re mine.”

“Wait, what?” You didn’t know how to process everything he just told you. You needed a second for it to register, and just as Daveed was about to speak again, you cut him off, pulling him down for a kiss. You didn’t know how to explain it, but this one was different from all the other times you’d kissed him, even from the first one. When you pulled back, you smiled at him. “You’re so sappy.”

“What, did you need time to load?” Daveed teased.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t exactly expect to get a confession from the guy I’ve been silently pining over for way too long now,” you admitted, pulling him back down for another kiss. You almost got upset with the little smile you could feel against your lips, but there were more pressing matters at hand. You broke the kiss again, pleased at the way he seemed to chase your lips. “Now, uh, what was it you told Michael? I was gonna get fucked until I can’t walk tomorrow?”

You could immediately see the change in him, a wicked smile growing on his lips. “You wanna play that game, baby girl?”

You nodded, biting your lip as the air around you seemed to change. The tension from before was back, but instead of the unbearable silence that plagued you on the ride back to his place, it was laced with anticipation. Daveed pulled you back in, one hand on the nape of your neck to hold you to him. His other hand started roaming, tracing lightly along your side before settling on your hip. When he was sure you wouldn’t break the kiss, he brought his other hand down. He bent down slightly, hands moving to your thighs. He pulled back for a breath before giving you a simple demand. “Jump.”

You did as he said, jumping just enough for him to wrap your legs around his waist. He started walking to his bedroom, distracting you with kisses and nips to your neck. The first night you guys spent together, you’d set up some ground rules to not get caught, the first one being absolutely no marks that couldn’t be hidden. That rule seemed to go out the window now that there was nothing to hide. A small whimper escaped you at the mark he was sucking high on your neck, not used to the sensation there.

His distraction worked; before you knew it, he was placing you on the edge of his bed. As soon as his hands were free from carrying you, they went to the front of your shirt, unbuttoning it with practiced ease. His lips followed his hands, kissing down your front. He ended up kneeled between your legs, letting your shirt fall open and frame your figure. “Talk to me, baby girl. What’s the safe word?”

“Red, and yellow if I need a second,” you recited. Just the fact that Daveed made sure to do the check in meant you were in for it, and you couldn’t be more excited.

“Good girl.” You barely had a second to process his words before he pressed up to kiss you, pushing your shirt off of your shoulders. Your bra was quick to follow, and once your top was exposed, Daveed pushed you to lay on your back. He planted his arm beside your head, caging you in as he lowered his body to yours. The kiss would break for a second just to let you get more air before he reclaimed your lips, and as much as you loved kissing Daveed, you needed more. You knew this was all part of his teasing, and as much as you were normally a brat, you needed him.

“Please,” you whimpered out, rolling your hips against his. You could feel his arousal so close to where you needed him, separated only by a few layers of clothes.

“Please what, baby?” You couldn’t see his smirk, but you knew it was there.

“Touch me.”

“I’m already touching you, isn’t this enough? If you’re gonna be greedy, you gotta tell me what you want.” Against his words, he started trailing his free hand down the side of your face, down your neck, down, down, down, stopping right at your waistband. He pressed his lips to your neck, letting you feel his smile. “What do you want, baby girl?”

“Daveed, fuck, please. I want you to fuck me,” you said, trying to grind into him again. His hand at your waistband held down your hips, not letting you have any room for movement. He sat back on his knees, looking down at you.

“There you go, baby. All you had to do was ask.” He undid your pants, the sound of the zipper seeming to echo in the room as he slowly pulled it down. You wanted to complain about him still teasing, but you knew you wouldn’t get what you wanted if you did. He pulled your pants down and off, you lifting your hips to help ease the way. You reached down to remove your panties, just wanting the job to be done already, but Daveed gently smacked your hands away. “No. I wanna take a bit to look at you, all gorgeous and needy.”

“Stop teasing,” you whined.

“Normally you’re such a brat. What happened?” Daveed asked, still teasing. His hand toyed at the hem of your panties, the slight touch enough to make you shiver.

“I thought you like when I listen to you,” you shot back, finally moving to sit up. You liked his little games, but you were starting to get tired of it. You needed him to touch you, actually touch you, and if he kept going like this, it was going to take forever. Before he could say whatever smart ass remark he was going to, you pulled him by his shirt into a deep kiss. You broke the kiss for a second, starting to tug off his shirt. It didn’t take more than a second for him to realize what you wanted, quickly taking it off. You went back to work, not wanting to give up the slight bit of control you had gained.

You moved your kisses down his neck, wanting to leave some marks of your own. As your hand trailed down to palm his erection through his sweats, he grabbed the back of your hair, forcing you to look at him. His pupils were lust blown, he was panting slightly, and he looked like he was seconds away from losing it. You had the feeling you didn’t look much better. “Nuh uh, baby. Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“It’s gonna be me if you don’t hurry up,” you challenged. You inhaled sharply when the hand in your hair tightened its hold, but you kept your eyes locked with his.

“There’s the brat I love,” he said with a small huff of amusement, trying not to smile. He moved you back to lay down, finally touching you where you needed him, even if it was still over your panties. “You know how I know you like these little games? You always get so fucking wet for me.”

Daveed pressed one more kiss to your lips before settling between your thighs, pulling your panties off and tossing them somewhere to the side. You leaned back on your elbows, wanting to watch his next moves. He kissed your inner thigh, making your breath hitch as the simple touch lit up your nerves. You could tell he was leaving more marks as he kissed and nipped on the soft skin, not even really registering his hand moving between your legs until you jolted at the slight pressure on your clit.

Daveed moved his attention to your other thigh, repeating the motions as his thumb lazily rubbed over your clit. Your thighs tried to close on their own, only to be met by a sharp bite. Breathy whines and moans escaped your lips, your head rolling back as Daveed took his time. As much as you were expecting him to take you rough and make you beg until you were crying, this slow build up was an entirely different kind of torture. When his fingers finally teased between your folds, guiding the way for his tongue, you couldn’t help your high whine of please.

He took mercy on you, his tongue teasing your entrance before settling on tracing patterns over your clit. While his mouth worked on your clit, he eased two fingers into you, your arousal making it easy for him. Your hips bucked at the slight burn, but the way he dragged his fingertips along your walls quickly replaced the feeling. Daveed knew exactly how to take you apart, watching your reactions for the slightest changes. Just as your thighs started to quiver, the pool of arousal in you getting to just this side of too much, Daveed pulled away.

“You fucking-”

“Watch what you’re gonna say to me, baby girl. You’re already on thin fucking ice,” he warned, getting up to take off his sweats. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be gone for long, you missed his touch on you. Not that you were gonna let him know that.

“You asshole, I was almost there.” You bit your lip, barely hiding the gasp that threatened to escape you at the smack he gave to your thigh. The skin stung, but the prickling of pleasure was always enough to overwhelm it.

“I know, sweetheart.” He gave you a wicked smile as he took his place between your thighs again, resting his length against where you needed him. You didn’t even realize you whimpered at the feeling until his thumb started rubbing circles into your thigh. “Aw, someone’s needy. I only want you cumming around me when I say you can, understand?”

You nodded, but Daveed just shook his head, the little pout on his lips mocking you. “Nuh uh, baby girl. Use your words and then I can fuck you the way you want, okay?”

“Yes, I understand,” you finally said, voice smaller than you would’ve liked. You rolled your hips up, trying to feel more of him. Daveed’s hand tightened on your thigh, hard enough that you were sure you were going to have finger-shaped bruises there in the morning. “Now can you please just hurry up and-”

You cut yourself off with a whine as Daveed ran the tip through your folds, collecting your wetness before teasing the head over your entrance. His little self-satisfied smile as he slowly pushed into you was annoying, but you had better things to focus on. He pulled you closer to him, thumb rubbing circles on your thigh yet again as he rolled his hips a few times. As much as he talked about ruining you, you could always tell there was a slight hesitation before he really got into it. You loved his concern, but he did have a promise to keep. His thrusts were still slow and controlled, so you decided to give him some motivation.

“I know you can go harder than that. You know, I bet Michael would-” This time you were cut off by Daveed’s hand on your throat. You looked up, a small smile gracing your lips at finally getting what you wanted, only to falter a bit at the hard look Daveed was giving you.

“Michael wouldn’t do shit,” Daveed said, finally thrusting into you harder. You knew you shouldn’t be as smug about it as you were, but you were thriving. This was what you’d been waiting for. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands fisted in the blanket. Just as you were starting to get comfortable, enjoying the ride, Daveed forced your leg over his shoulder, driving his length deeper into you. “He wouldn’t know how to fuck you like I do. Even if you went to him, you’d be thinking of me. You and this pussy belong. To. Me.”

Daveed punctuated each word with a rough thrust of his hips, making you see stars. You were babbling at this point, whines and moans mixing with your pleas for more. Daveed’s hand rested on your throat, not quite choking you but acting as a reminder to watch yourself. He was treating you with the roughness you craved, and you could feel yourself getting closer as he went on. You didn’t know if you were the one that moved or it was him, but he hit that spot. That spot that had your vision edging with white, that had you yelling out as you came hard, not even bothering to ask permission. Instead of letting you ride it through like he normally did, Daveed pulled out of you, dropping your leg from his shoulder.

“Wha- why’d you stop?!” You cried out even as Daveed flipped you over to your stomach. He pulled your hips up, arching your back for him before laying a hard smack on your ass.

“Did you ask?” Daveed demanded, smacking the same spot.

“What?”

“What, you get fucked a little and forget your manners?” It finally clicked for you, a little embarrassed that Daveed had to point it out like that. Normally, you’d be apologetic, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care at the moment. You just wanted Daveed to keep fucking you, you could deal with the consequences later. You tried rolling your hips back to his, but his hands kept a tight hold on your hips.

“I’m sorry,” you whined, still not meaning it. “Please.”

Daveed huffed out a little laugh, but when you tried turning your head to look at him, his hand fisted in your hair, pushing your head down into the pillows. You would have complained, but the feeling of him sliding back into you cleared your mind of anything other than him. He was quick to go back to his fast pace, holding your head down to keep you in place. “Don’t know why I fucking asked for an apology, I know you don’t mean it. You just want me to fucking ruin you.”

You couldn’t do anything but whimper at his harsh tone, trying to fuck yourself back on him. But no, he controlled the pace, he controlled your pleasure. You were his. All you could do was take it, trying not to repeat your mistake from earlier. Time seemed to fade away as the sound is his hips against yours, your muffled moans and whines, his small grunts and praise filled the room. It wasn’t until Daveed finally let go of your hair to rub at your clit instead that you could tell he was getting close. His thrusts started getting sloppy and you could feel the build up inside of you yet again.

“Please, baby,” you whined, the two words already being a struggle. You’d hoped it would be enough, but of course it wasn’t.

“You gotta say it, baby girl,” he said, voice slightly strained from how close he was.

“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad, please baby please,” you kept going, only able to repeat please, baby until he finally took mercy on you. You were trying your hardest to be good, needing to be good for him, but you didn’t know how long you could keep this going.

“Fuck, such a good girl. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.” His permission was all you needed, your orgasm hitting you as soon as you had it. Your legs shook, nerves sensitive as Daveed chased his own release, making you cry out into the room. Daveed followed soon after, pushing deep in you as he called your name in a delicious groan.

The quiet that followed was new, your heavy breathing the only noise breaking the silence. Daveed stayed for a few seconds before slowly pulling out, making you whimper at the sensitivity. You let your hips fall, content to just stay there laying on your stomach, but Daveed had other ideas, rolling you onto your side so he could pull you into his arms.

“Hey,” he said in a near whisper, a little smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“Hey,” you said with a smile of your own. The moment was a bit cheesy, but it made you feel warm inside.

“So, how was that?”

“I mean, it was different.”

“Different good or?”

“Yeah, but just different. Like, knowing that you’re in love with me or whatever.”

“Don’t ‘or whatever’ that! Every time we’ve fucked before I’ve been in love with you,” Daveed seemed to add that last part as an afterthought. Thinking the conversation was done, you started to get up only to be pulled back to the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To go shower?” You looked at Daveed, tilting your head slightly. You were met by a hungry look, immediately sending a shiver through you.

“We’re not done yet, baby girl.”

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299

#daveed diggs x reader #daveed x reader #daveed diggs imagine #hamcast imagine #requested #Smut

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

innocence - 02

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m still stunned at how many of you are enjoying this story. thank you so so much for your support. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky always woke up at 5AM and waking up at 5 AM was already considered a victory for him - to sleep through the night. Once the digital clock flashed 5 AM in electric red, his eyes were wide open, the sight of constant darkness being the only thing he could see. His routine was precise, as precise as time itself and it barely changed - gym then a dark cup of coffee followed by reading whatever coffee side table book Steve would linger around.

Y/N, unlike him, didn’t have a precise routine. She enjoyed routine but her mornings were always her own time, away from everything. On her free days she would try to wake up by at least 10. After she was fully awake she would turn on the TV in her bedroom and turn on the kettle for a nice tea. She would then lay in bed, surrounded by her blankets and dressed in an oversized cardigan while some random show played.

Bucky’s mornings were always filled with people coming in and out, that was life living in the Avengers headquarters. Some mornings he thought about moving into the apartment in Brooklyn but that would just upset Steve. Heck, he didn’t even know Bucky had bought the apartment, it had been an impulse buy and he would go there every week to check on it. However, Brooklyn wasn’t as close to Y/N’s in SoHo so he guessed he would stay. Y/N’s mornings on the other hand were quiet, too quiet. It was just her, just her in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of wealthy SoHo.

- Morning, Buck. - Steve, like always, walked into the kitchen, coffee mug saying number one dad in hand. He always had this smile that Bucky couldn’t find the words, a smile that was almost glad that he was still alive yet pitiful. The pure look of someone who’s been burdened, a mother to a child’s look, one she didn’t want. - Excited for guarding your first client?

- Feels more like guarding property. - he mumbled over the dark coffee, chugging it all before anymore questions could be asked.

It shouldn’t be a hard day, he thought to himself, mostly looking after her if she decided to go out for anything. He had looked into her profile, she was an easy target. Almost always wearing heels, flowey clothing, things that wouldn’t help her if someone was after her. Anyway, looked like an easy job, easier than saving the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N was laid in the middle of her covers, remote in hand as she skimmed through the channels. Looking around she noticed the loneliness she was in, the empty walls decorated with her own choosing but still empty. No sounds, too quiet.

She rose from the bed, big socks touching the cedar wood floor as she padded up to the kitchen. The agency had had everything decorated and the fridge stocked but as she opened the door she couldn’t find a single thing she wanted to eat. Disappointed, she closed the fridge, leaning against it to look at the rest of the flat. It was quiet, too quiet, filled with the sounds of quiet if that was even a physically possible thing. She let herself slide down the fridge front, sitting on the floor as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her script yet, or at least more than two pages of it and going outside was the least thing she wanted to do today.

Y/N was about to fall asleep on the ground against her fridge, she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got onto her feet, rushing over to the door so fast she almost slipped. Pushing the peep hole away she put herself on her tippy toes to see if one of the neighbours was home.

- Y/N, are you staring out the peep hole? - the person whose steps belonged too was definitely better than any neighbour. Quickly, she unlocked the door, pushing the metal that held it shut to the wall and opened it to see Bucky in a much more casual attire than before. Red henley with some loose dark jeans looked better in her opinion. - If you hear someone it’s always a terrible idea to use the peep hole. Almost always let’s them know someone’s in.

- Then what are peep holes for? - Bucky playfully rolled his eyes but not before observing what she was wearing. She looked more comfortable. - Do you wanna come in?

- Miss Olson said I am to wait outside your door until you want to leave the apartment.

- What if someone broke my window and took me?

- Trust me, Y/N. I would know and would win that fight.

- You sure you don’t wanna come in? I could cook you some breakfast. Whatever you like. - she had that shine in her eyes, Bucky couldn’t explain it. He just knew it didn’t felt forced but she surely was nervous judging by the pushing of her oversized cardigan’s sleeve to cover her hand. - The agency filled my fridge with so much food I don’t know what to do with it.

- I’m not a breakfast kind of person, Y/N.

- Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. - her small hand came to rest over his wrist, pulling at it so he would go inside. He found it amusing how someone who was much shorter than him, head barely hitting his collarbones, would try to move him. Although, surprising wasn’t the fact that he moved but the fact that she touched him, she touched the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t naive and he lacked Steve’s “all good” view of the world so he knew what people thought of him. They thought he had been of use but at the end of the day he had been the Winter Soldier for 70 years. They didn’t dare touch him but her she was inviting him into her home and touching him as if he were an old friend.

Once he got in, he immediately looked at everything. There were fake flowers everywhere in little glass jars, if they were broken and she were trying to escape she would get hurt, too many windows and not a lot of mirrored surfaces, people could look in.

- Would you like some pancakes? French toast? - her voice interrupted his inspection. - My mom was a cook, I can cook pretty much whatever you want. Can’t promise it will be as good as a cook’s but it’ll be edible.

- You really don’t need to feed me, Y/N. - his gaze returned to her apartment, open doors everywhere.

- I just thought ... since you’re going to be around a while we should be friendly with each other. - she looked down at her feet before looking up again, head slightly looking to the side. - I don’t know anyone in here, I didn’t even pick this apartment so I thought I would at least get to know you.

She felt ashamed, heat seemed to radiate from her cheeks to her whole body. Back at the theatre everyone knew each other, they all had show themed hoodies and would say hi whenever they came in and left but things in Hollywood were different. In her first movie she had made friends with only one cast member who still spoke to her but everyone else did their job and returned to their lives without a single hello. She thought that maybe knowing Bucky would make having someone constantly in her life a bit easier but she understood his position.

Bucky himself seemed to read that all on her face and as he did a thought popped into his head “they are gonna eat her alive”.

- Let’s try that French Toast. - she smiled at his answer, once again pulling his hand towards the kitchen. It was spacious for a SoHo flat, with cut edge technology and also a very visible knife set. He would have to tell her to put that somewhere else.

She on the other hand quickly assembled all she needed, placing it on the marble countertop, a happy grin on her face as she started to prepare the meal. It reminded him of memories he had tried to suppress.

- Mum’s a cook, why are you an actress? - those memories were still memories he wasn’t ready to get back and as such he reckoned speaking with her would keep it out.

- I don’t really know how to explain it. - she smiled, pulling a few hair strands behind her ear. - My mum took me to a musical after I didn’t get cast in the nativity play. It was Phantom of the Opera, I just remembered that chandelier rising and crashing and the energy of the performers. There was just ... that was time stopping and rushing at the same time. And the look on the performers faces as they finished a piece, god it was just, I had never seen and I don’t think I have ever seen such passion in someone’s face.

Bucky moved his head ever so slightly, she seemed to be lost in her own memories, a daydream gaze washing over her features. He wondered what it was like to have memories to be proud of.

- I’m sorry, I must sound like a sap. Why do you become a bodyguard?

- I like a challenge.

- That’s what you told me yesterday. - she placed a beautiful set plate in front of him. Beautiful things make beautiful things, that’s what his mother once told him. Maybe she was right.

- What can I say, I’m not that interesting.

- I don’t know if that’s true. - she added a coffee cup to the French Toast, before pulling a chair. - You know, if I’m at home you don’t need to be outside my door, you can come in.

- I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space.

- It’s not really my personal space. The agency bought the flat and decorated it themselves so I guess it’s just the space I live in. I don’t really know the city yet so you’re mostly waiting outside for nothing. - she shrugged.

- How long have you been in New York?

- A little over 5 months. I was in California during my last movie and prior to that I was living in Haymarket in London. How long have you been in New York?

- I was born in Brooklyn, about half hour away from here. Lived here my whole life ever since ... at least the part of it I could control.

Bucky waited to see that pity look, the one everyone in the team seemed to give them whenever they looked at him but she didn’t. She merely wrapped her hand around his, caring smile of someone who almost looked proud he existed or proud he was alive. They’re gonna eat her alive, he thought to himself once again.

- Hey, you could show me around. - she suggested, jumping from the high chair onto the floor.

- I don’t hang around SoHo, Y/N.

- Well, you could show me Brooklyn. Isn’t Coney Island in Brooklyn?

- You wanna go to Coney Island? - he chuckled. - I don’t think your agency would enjoy that. Too public.

- They don’t need to know. - she smirked playfully. - If you don’t tell them they won’t know.

- You’re a celebrity, trust me you’ll be noticed.

- You said on your CV you were good at blending and disappearing into a crowd. Please, I’ll get you whatever you want in Coney Island.

- Whatever I want? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her and she nodded. - Alright, Y/N.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess

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sterekficrec · 3 years

Text

Lost fic masterpost 2.0

This is the new masterpost list for lost fics we haven't found ourselves yet and we need some help with finding. This list contains all asks that are asked after May 31st, 2018. If you asked us something before that date and it hasn't been answered, please check out our Last Chance Asks post first, if it isn't on there feel free to send us the ask again.

If you know what one (or more) of these are then let me know through an ask and mention the number.

Thanks in advance for all your help :)

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Hii! I'm looking for this fic I read a while ago, it was on ao3 and kind of short I think.. Stiles catches Derek smoking weed naked, and it involves shotguning.. I remember it had embeded images of shirtless Derek(or some model who looks like Derek more likely) sitting on the floor by the bed.. Hope somebody knows this, I really want to find this :'(

Hi! I don’t know if you can help with this but I’ve been looking for a fic everywhere. Stiles is older than Derek and Talia brings him in to help Derek through his rut or heat. I can’t remember much else. I hope you can help!

Hey, I was wondering if you could help me find a fic where stiles thinks Derek doesn't find him attractive Derek doesn't get hard, and Derek thinks that stiles doesn't want him because of this and there's just hella miscommunication?

Hey I was hoping maybe you could help me find a fic? All I remember was that is was like a retelling of season one but Stiles was older and an FBI agent?

Hey there! I wanted to ask about a fic I read some time ago. It’s sort of au. Stiles doesn’t live in Beacon Hills anymore but helps out Deacon and him and Derek meet when he helps out Dereks pack with something. He’s a witch or something like that. I’m sorry for being so vague and in one of the cases Derek gets possessed by a demon, who kills people by dehydrating them. And Stiles gets the demon out of him. Have you guys recced anything like it? I really want to read it again. Thanks :)

Hey!!!! So I was wondering if you could help me find this sterek fic?? They are married and they have a few kids I think mpreg. It has a lot of chapters and in one of them their daughter I think her name may start with an l goes to a dance with a vampire, Derek isn’t so sure ab it. And one time stiles has to go on a trip for work or maybe a retreat with Scott and Derek has to console there few month old, as he hasn’t been away from stiles. Please please!!

I was wondering if you’d be able to help me find a fic? Derek and Stiles are on a date and they have Cora with them. When they’re buying tickets, the person at the ticket counter flirts with Derek and assumes he’s chaperoning a date between Cora and Stiles. I think Stiles yells oh hell no and then kisses Derek?? I wish I could remember more, but that’s all I recall..

I've been looking for a certain nsfw fic where someone "gives" Stiles to Derek as a birthday present, I'm pretty sure Stiles is tied up in a hotel bed or something like that. Thank you so much in advance 💖

10.

Hello! I read a fic once and I cannot find it again and I would really like to reread it. Of what I remember the sheriff is an alpha and dies and Stiles has to take over and the sheriff left a lot of debt. So Stiles starts to sell off chunks of land and works a ton of jobs to try to pay it back.

11.

Hey, I’m looking for a fic where Stiles is a spark, but he’s hella freaking powerful because when his mom died he kind of tried to bring her back, but it latched onto his baseball bat? I think Lydia is actually the alpha of the pack, and Laura and Cora are alive (I think the rest of the Hales are too?). Derek was like, literally married to Kate for a while and then they divorce and Stiles and him break into her house and totally trash it. Help????

12.

I was wondering i you could help me find a fic (i'm desperate), the only thing i can remember is that derek keeps a 20 dollar bill by his door in case any girl scouts come by, but they never come because the moms think he's some kind og bad guy. Stiles meets a girl scout mom and konda confront her about it (and by confront i mean like really yell at) i think it might have been a slowburn fic Thank you:)

13.

I've been looking desperately for this fic where Stiles gets Emissary/Druid training from Deaton but eventually Deaton refuses to teach Stiles anymore so Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in search of another teacher he leave sometime before the alpha pack he finds a teacher and travels a lot but eventually returns Beacon Hills after a few years very powerful helps them defeat somthing and eventually hooks up with Derek.

14.

Hi please if u could help me this sterek fic? Both derek and stiles were deputies . Derek was new there and parrish like stiles which made Der jealous . I dont remember much but help ..

15.

Hey I was hoping you could help me find a fic? It's been a while since I've read it, but I know it was based around the sacfricial killings, but they were being used to resurrect some people I think? It was magic!Stiles, and at the end he kinda changed the spell to resurrect the Hale family instead? Sorry I can't remember much else, but I know I really enjoyed it and I can't find it at all. It would mean a lot if you found it!

16.

Hello. Love this blog helping find fics for other people some of which I’ve read and loved. I’d love if you could help me find a fix where stiles, Jackson, Erika, issac and Boyd are selected to be seventh to the hale family. Mr. Harris is the servant and the living family is Cora Derek Laura Peter and the grandmother. Stiles of course is Derek’s servant and finds the truth out about his forgotten pass and what he is to Derek’s. Changing him Erika and issac into werewolf’s. Hope you can find!!

17.

Hello! I was wondering of you could help me find a fic. From what I remember, Derek comes home (from college I think) for the first time in years, and finds that his family loves Stiles, who he has never met. They hate each other in the beginning. Thank you for any help you can give, and thank you for all you do for this amazing fandom! :D

18.

hi!im looking for a sterek fic that has stiles staying in beacon hills as a supernatural doctor? and then he gets an email from derek that says that derek is hurt. stiles also has a bunch of journals full of information about the pack. and them stiles has a really bad leg injury. and the sheriff is dead. stiles listens to either mozart or bach to calm down, i can’t remember. please, help me. sorry if my descriptions are a little messy, im stressing over it bc i want to reread it. thanks.

19.

i’m trying to find a fic where the pack accidentally wishes on a shooting star about stiles, and they wake up in this alternate universe where stiles doesn’t know who they are and he’s being brought in by deputies, && they find out that stiles is a mage of some sort in another pack, i’ve been trying to find it forever. also thank you!

20.

For the prompt you asked: what about Stiles going crazy trying to plan the perfect Christmas party with the pack but everyone has a different religion or belief and Stiles is squishing a little of everything in there, the party wont even be on Christmas eve but in a different neutral date or smthng. And obviously since most of the pack is still busy with school(or college?)he ropes Derek into helping with preparations. Obviously they end up making a big mess out of everything. they also fight a lot untill Derek snaps and Stiles realizes that Derek's only problem with Christmas is he misses his family so much(and the only reason Stiles wants to party it's bc it makes him remember his mother)And the pack arrives at the new Hale house to find them like that, depressed and with a burnt out dinner in the kitchen, ligths popped and tree destroyed. And it magicaly snows in that moment(or maybe it's Stiles?)

21.

Hi, sorry for my bad english. I’m looking for sterek fic. I know I read it in AO3. I don’t remember much but almost in the end Stiles and Chris are arguing because all the stuff his family did. How bad Stiles was tortured by Gerard and I think Stiles was pemanently injured in one ear and one eye. And also Chris was yelling that he killed his father and Stiles said in the end it didn’t mather because He was damage forever. I really hope you can help me.

22.

hi, so i was hoping you could help me find a sterek fic where stiles and derek are childhood friends, and stiles is pining after him but derek and paige are dating, and stiles gets jealous when paige is sitting in his seat and almost has a mental breakdown? i think stiles starts ignoring him, and derek realizes that he no longer sees paige as his future mate but stiles. thank you!!

23.

Hi, Sterek fic I can't find. With Stiles drowning, bc of himself or feelings being too much, Derek notices and saves him, and the Derek warms him by turning into his alpha form? Stiles really like shifted Derek. Thank you guys! :)

24.

Hi I was wondering if you could help me find these 2 sterek fics where: 1. Derek and stiles are on a stakeout looking at a bank I think when someone approaches the car and Derek pulls stiles into his lap and stiles begins to question his sexuality and if Derek likes him. 2. God I can’t believe I didn’t save this one but I can only remember a scene in the fic where stiles and Derek were at a drive though movie theatre and they were kissing and it was all about Derek self healing. Pls help.

25.

Hey I'm trying to find this fic on archive that I read before but I can't seem to find it. If you don't do this sort of thing sorry in advance. But if you do all the teenagers are alive and Stiles is getting bullied by a group of douches so the pack challenge them to a series of games. Girls vs girls and boys vs boys. They win of course. Anyway if you know of this fic please let me know

26.

I need help finding a fic pls. Stiles meets Derek young (around 4ish) and they're soulmates (Derek knew when Claudia was still pregnant). There is def an age gap. Stiles grows up knowing Derek is his mate, and tries to mate with him, but because they spent so much time together while he was young, stiles's wolf develops quicker than it should and goes into heat, so they try to separate them. Mama S. and Hale family is still alive, and theres an alpha/alpha mate convention at some point. Thanks!

28.

hey! i'm looking for a fic where stiles is living on the east coast working for the government and then he saves somebody's life by recognizing that the agent was walking into a trap of a vampire coven so he starts working with this supernatural sector of the government (and people named jessica and jason i think) and gets sent to a national council thing and reconciles with derek and the pack after having left beacon hills and stuff

29.

Hi! ❤️ thank you so much for taking the time, I was just hoping someone could help find that sterek fic where it’s established relationship, and stiles works for a company because he came up with a famous slogan for some type of candy/food and the company rlly loves him, at one point goes on a business trip where someone tries to have an affair and stiles is like WHUt NO and goes back to Derek immediately feeling guilty even tho he was 100% loyal? Thank youuuu ❤️

30.

Hello! I love this blog a lot , keep up the good work. :) I was recently reading a fanfic where stiles is kidnapped by jennifer and she uses derek’s semen in a spell to make the “werewolf messiah”. Can you help me find it?

31.

I am looking for a fic. Derek is the alpha and he and stiles get together and cook meals. First Boyd is added to the group and then Isaac. Isaac becomes a foster of Boyd's parents. Then Erica is added. They give Erica the bite after discussing it with her parents. Please help

32.

Hi! Looking for a fic where Stiles is bitten by a fox at the zoo, changes into an actual fox, which means he’s terrified of the werewolves, including Scott and Derek. Derek has to lure him out with a trampoline (definitely inspired by that video of a fox on a trampoline). I looked everywhere I could think of but no luck :/ hopefully someone’s heard of it! Thank you!

34.

Hi! I’m scouting the internet for an old sterek fic I read once where stiles and Allison bond over the summer after s2 and in a drunken mistake Allison gets pregnant but it’s not romantic? I can’t find even a trace of it anywhere but I VIVIDLY remember it

35.

Not a fic Rex but could you help me find a fic? It’s been months apon months since I have read this fic but it’s a sterek fic and stiles was kinda of controlling and would never be a good bf to Derek so they never did anything derek wants to do only stiles. And I remember they talked about it and were getting better and Derek asked to go on a hike to show stiles this pond or something idk for sure and stiles almost says no and it’s angsty and amazing.

36.

Hi! I've been looking for a fic that I read a while ago, I don't know if it's been deleted or not and I don't remember it clearly. But from what I remember, at some point Derek stayed with Stiles and his dad in his wolf form because he was traumatized and felt like he was inconvenient to everybody? Sorry I'm not being very clear but if that rings any bell... Thank you!

37.

hi! There was this Sterek fic form Isaac's POV where he was Stiles' PA and he really shipped him with Derek, but all the other two do is fight-- and in the end, he finds out they've been married for around 5 years. Do you know it's linked, by any chance? :)

39.

Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere but I can’t find this Sterek fic and was wondering if you could help me? All I remember is that Stiles is pregnant, him and Jackson are really close friends, and something about ‘is Thursday a good day to tell your ex you’re pregnant?’. Thank you so much if you could help! ❤️

40.

Hello! Okay so I have my been here in a while, but I've ran out of fics to read. And I'm not sure if you guys are still active. But do you guys have some where Sterek start dating, but it's because one of them like the other and the other one thought, "why not?" But they end up falling for the other. Sorry I know this is too specific. :/ but thank you!!!

41.

I'm looking for a fic that Stiles was invited to Derek's wedding to Julia/Jennifer, but it turns out he was magically controlled to go along with everything so she'd have control of the pack???? Eventual sterek.

42.

Hiiii! I'm wondering if you can help me. I read this fic forever ago and it was a supernatural FBI type situation. Stiles was magic and sold potions on the side (I know to at least Ethan). Deucalion was selling drugs that were killing people. I remember that the drugs made you hover in the air before you died and Stiles got drugged (also pretty sure he was a suspect). Derek was an agent. Thanks in advance!

43.

Hey I'm really sorry to bother i am looking for a fic were stiles and derek are in a long term relationship but derek starts to neglect stiles so he decides to leave for a new apartment and derek realizes how much he has been missing. thank you i hope you can help me

44.

Hey! So I’m looking for 2 sterek fics that might have been deleted but I’m not sure. The first, someone is poisoning the wolves to makes them shift, and stiles and Derek get locked in a cage so that Derek would kill stiles. The second one, the pack goes to college, but Derek breaks up with stiles to keep him safe, and stiles starts taking pain killers. The Alpha pack shows up, but at the end Peter tries to kill Scott or Derek to become an alpha again. Any idea? Thank you!!!

45.

Hey I'm looking for a sterek fic and going out of my mind because I cant find it! All I remember is that they had at least one kid together and in the epilogue or sequel or something they were having a family dinner where their college age oldest daughter was bring home her boyfriend to meet the family. And I think the younger brother was non-binary of some sort and they were worried how the boyfriend was going to handle that. And werewolves existed but still a secret. Thank you in advance!!

50.

Im sorry i might be stupid but i cant find the askbox, im looking for a fic where stiles and derek are mates and there might be a abo dynamic, derek knows they are mates before stiles is born because he meet Claudia while she i pregnant, they start of young in the fic but get older as i goes. I must have been an explicit one. Sorry for any inconvinience

51.

Hi! Looking for a stereo college au where stiles is obsessed with Greek mythology and even got a tattoo of it. Some internal homophobia in there too. Thank you in advance!

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

hi! i am looking for this sterek fic i read last year I think. Stiles and Derek are both in college and Stiles is crazy about greek mythology - has some of the stuff tattooed on him. Derek is kind of closeted and maybe a little internally homophobic but is crazy about Stiles. Stiles has some Dark Things that happened to him back in BH.....Eventually Derek gets him a ticket to go to Greece? Any ideas? Thank you in advance!

I think these two are asks for the same fic, if not I seperated them in a. and b. so let me know the latter if they are not the same.

53.

Hello, sorry I have another ask. I'm looking for a fic where werewolves are known and the hale family is alive. Stiles has to spend time with every member of the pack to determine compatibility I think? They all dislike him. Laura hates him because they had a previous encounter and she bruises him. It's a sterek fic I think. Thanks!

54.

there's a fic i read years ago about stiles and derek both being accountants and working together. i think stiles was a new employee? possibly a student/graduate? sorry i dont have much information, its been years since i read it and i just randomly thought about it but cant find it

55.

Hey! I swear I got this Fic from y’all but I cannot find it now for the life of me. It’s a college AU where stiles rushes fraternities on a whim and meets Boyd. Boyd is a legacy for Derek’s fraternity and joins them, Stiles ends up rushing and joining Scott’s fraternity. There’s a whole bunch of pranking that ensues including Stiles stealing Derek’s pledge paddle... it’s a fantastic fic but I can’t find it

56.

hi!!! i was wondering if you know the fic where the pack finds actual wolf cubs and decides to raise them??? i remember it being a WIP and the wolves names were sköll and haiti (?). btw: i love this blog so much 😭😭💝

57.

hi! I’ve been looking for a fic where stiles (for a reason that I forget) pretends to be gay and ends up dating Derek while still pretending to be gay and then actually falls for Derek in the end. I can’t seem to remember what it’s called and I really wanna reread it. Hope you can find it!

58.

Hi, I’m wondering if you could help me find a fic. One where Derek had to sacrifice his love for Stiles to keep his family alive (some sort of curse on him to make him fall out of love) and magic!Stiles does everything to break the curse? If you know it please help

59.

Hi! I’m looking for a Sterek fic on Ao3 where the day after Stiles and Derek finally go forward in their relationship this random ass guy shows up, claims he’s an old friend of Derek’s from New York and convinces the whole pack, minus Stiles, too. From what I remember he used their names to place a spell on them to control them. Derek attacks Stiles then kicks him out of the group, Lydia shows up and helps Stiles break the spell because she’s queen, and they get the guy arrested. Plz help?

60.

Hey guys no pressure but theres been a fic stuck in the back of my head for months and I can’t find it. What I remember is that the pack are in a bar when a siren does a siren thing and everyone in the bar is under his spell and it was something d&s could resist only because they were truely in love. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense, English is hard for a dyslexic

62.

Hey!! First of all...... thank u so much this is always so helpful..... Second of all, I can’t remember the name and hopefully you can help?? It’s Sterek, it’s not an AU. Derek leaves and moves to Montana? Colorado? Something like that and coincidentally Stiles ends up going there for college and slow build???? And knowing these boys, some Angst™️

63.

UGH!! Can you help? Stiles goes to stay with Derek in Brazil?

64.

HELP, goin crazy looking for fic I wanna reread, Remember tons specific odd details. Listing them w/ hopes someone knows what I'm taking about! ABO adjacent, Stiles heat is called a wetting, Stile's dad gives his hand away only cuz its good alpha Derek, marital/mate tradition w/ fancy ornate bathtubs, Stiles has skirt w/ embroidered list of his skills on it, Derek bad a verbalized emotions. Regency era. Stiles has a miscarriage w/ lot of self blame. Issac is Derek's ward since he's a kid. Aaah?!

70.

Hello I'm trying to find a fic where when Stiles was young (and with the help of Lydia or Scott) did a spell to never find his soulmate. Like it was: he will have blue eyes, no green and brown; he will be strong enough to lift a car; he will play cello. The point of the spell being to not find him. Later he meet Derek and freaks out because he is perfect (multicolored eyes, werewolf strength...). Please help me find it! Thanks

72.

I am looking for a fic that starts with Stiles and Derek researching but then Stiles gets turned on and him and Derek end up hooking up. It's a 5+1 fic

73.

Hi! Can you help me find the fic where Stiles, Sheriff and a few other people from town were held hostage by werewolves(?) but also some humans I think and they were planning to escape but stiles said they should stay put. And at the end or towards the end Derek bursts in as a full wolf and stiles has to talk him down so he’ll shift back and the people who held him hostage know him as one of the most dangerous in the Hale pack.

76.

Hi Mod(s)! I am currently looking for a fic about magic Stiles. I don't remember any of the pairings, but I vividly remember a conversation between Stiles, Allison, and Lydia. To prove that his magic is real, Stiles sets his lacrosse stick on fire. Allison is prejudiced toward magic and says that Stiles could probably light a house on fire, and Stiles responds that he could, but then he would die of organ failure. Thank you for your help! I appreciate the time and care you put into this blog!

77.

Hey, thanks for all you do. Do you perhaps know a fic that is basically a rewrite of season 1 but Stiles has a dog, and Derek gets jealous of the dog, honestly I've been searching everywhere for this

79.

I have a question

all I can remember is Alison is matriarch of the hunters, Stiles is sassy as fuck... I think he was magic. I believe there was a coffee shop showdown where Alison didn’t realize that Stiles was there... I can’t remember if it’s a recent fix or something I stumble across finding new docs to read.

Cheers

80.

Hello! I've been trying to comb my way through your blog and searching google but I haven't been able to find the fic I've been looking for so I hope you can help me (and I hope I'm not missing the post and making a duplicate)

The story is a sterek fic where Derek goes to stiles for help because hes developing a sexual problem and only trusts stiles to look up the answer. Stiles find out it's likely a mate thing and suggests derek figures out who hes been spending a lot of time with. Derek checks out and crosses off each of the pack before settling on Scott (because of his scent, thinking its what's triggering the response), turns out its stiles and that stiles has a very active libido and that's what's causing Derek's problem.

I swear I had it saved but I can't find it in any of my bookmarks. So, any help you can provide at finding the fic would be super helpful! Thank you!

81.

hi, hoping for some help finding a fic? from around 2015 - sterek (either established couple or they got together during +), there's a big bad that mind controls or possesses Derek and makes him stab stiles. then in the next part stiles trains with the argents and they're still trying to fight the big bad. there's an OC that stiles is jealous of bc she is able to bring Derek out of the mind control/possession when he wasn't able to. that's everything I remember. any help is appreciated! thanks!!

82.

There is this fic that I cannot remember the name of. It’s a very slow burn where stiles and Derek once they decide to be together, wait until 18 for kissing (before that they do Eskimo kisses) and then to like 21 or something for sex. It’s really sweet and cute and stiles is understanding of his trauma. It may have been a de-aged derek, cursed, bonded, or fake/pretend relationship? If you know, I will love you forever and ever +1.

83.

I'm looking for a long Teen Wolf fic. Here's what I remember.

Stiles left to join the FBI. Cut ties with Beacon Hill. Never looked back. Becomes an FBI wunderkind.

On behalf of the FBI he goes to some werewolf or Supernatural Council event with his unit. It's a complete surprise the Beacon Hill pack is there, they're all cold shouldering each other. Everyone has grown into their own, and the pack is beyond thriving. Derek is some high muckity muck.

Scrooby doo mystery plot stuff, ends in Sterek.

It's long and has some time stamp sequels.

Does this sound familiar? I've been looking for it to reread.

85.

I’ve been looking for this one sterek fic where stiles has a crush on Derek and Derek is like in high school while stiles is still a kid. And like stiles comes over to the Hale house to hang out with Derek and he catches Derek making out with a girl (maybe Kate) and it breaks his heart.

86.

Hi :) I’m looking for a fic where Stiles and Derek fake being in a relationship when Derek has to go to some werewolf retreat. Stiles learns magick and can see strings that run between…mates, maybe? I think there’s also a toddler named Luca running around. Idk I remember reading this YEARS ago and would really like to find it again🥺

87.

Hey. I was wandering if you knew of a fic that’s kinda oldish. But stiles and Derek meet and they’re like mates or soulmates or something. Anyway stiles pack which is like Scott, Allison, Lydia, Danny etc have been cursed by a witch and I thinks they’re getting their power drained or something? They’re lived are in danger and Derek helps coz Stiles is his mate. Possible chance they’re all at college

88.

hi! I am looking for a sterek fic. stiles works two jobs and is really tired driving home one day and accidentally rear ends derek (who is a cop?) who then comforts him when he freaks out. it is abo au and the pack are included. thanks in advance!

89.

Do you know a ao3 fanfic about sterek where stiles just presented as an omega and gets taken by the government to be the omega in dereks military group?

90.

Hey I was wondering if you could find this fic for me? I’ve been looking lol night and I can’t find it anywhere. I know it’s on AO3 if that helps at all.

So it’s a royalty au and pretty much Derek is a werewolf and he invades stiles kingdom under peters orders but when Derek gets to the palace stiles father isn’t there as stiles has hidden him and he ends up marrying stiles and stiles is like tricky and stuff and there’s one scene where they are in the garden and dereks soldiers end up in a field of wolvesbane and gets really sick and stiles goes in to save him and he gets really mad at his guards for letting the wolf just walk into it. And Peter is bad and intends on killing derek and stiles realises this and tells him and Derek ends up killing him. I think it would be classified as enemies to lovers? I hope that’s enough info to go off of

Thank you so much in advance I really appreciate it if you find it!

91.

Hi I have been looking for this fic for literally years, all I remember is that stiles and allison had a kid together years before when they were both on the outs from the pack in LA, but they come back and scott and allison end up together again, and derek left beacon hills for years but comes back and settles but keeps leaving and stiles is upset—eventual sterek of course—and there’s something big going on supernaturally? And stiles gets intense migraines? Honestly it’s been so long I could have imagined this haha but I will be so grateful if someone has heard of this! Thank you for all you do!

92.

Hi there! I read a fic a looong time ago and unfortunately, I can't find it. What I remember, is that Stiles and Derek move out of Beacon Hills and also get their own dog. I also think at first Stiles was on his own and he moved away for himself, not necessarily bc he was pushed out of the pack, but that may have been in a different fic and I'm just mixing them up. So sorry for being so vague! I hope you may be able to find it

93.

hi! i'm searching for a fix where the pack goes on vacation and derek and stiles have to share a room. basically stiles thinks that derek doesnt like his scent and leaves the windows open and they freeze their asses off lol. i think it was in a cabin or something in the woods.

94.

Hiya! Not sure if you’re still taking SOS Fic Searches. I cannot for the life of me remember anything more than a sterek fic with stubborn Derek / Stiles where Jackson asked Stiles out on a date on Valentines Day knowing Derek would be jealous, but when Derek doesn’t step in immediately, after the “date” Jackson texts Stiles “you’ll thank me for this” and then kisses him on the porch and Derek wolfs out and chases him — thus allowing for them to discuss their feelings and get together (but also keep it a secret from the pack for being assholes and making group chats without them)

95.

i’m looking for a fic that starts with stiles and derek getting into a fender bender. it’s in a universe where everyone registers as a dom, sub, or switch. stiles is a sub and derek is a dom. derek works with scott. after the accident stiles brings derek cookies and brownies at work. derek is some sort of officer or something that works with dom/sub rights or something?? there’s a protest which stiles goes to and it gets violent and at another point someone vandalizes where derek works. stiles and jackson are friends and jackson coaches lacrosse. i’m sorry if this is vague but i appreciate the help!

96.

I'm trying to find a fic and I'm hoping you can help- I've read it before but can't for the life of me find it on Ao3, and it's killing me! It's one where Stiles is magical, Scott pretty much goes insane- and there is a super amazing scene towards the end where Stiles winds up magically taking Scott's wolf away and giving it to Melissa, who lovingly embraces it. It was a great read that I could have sworn I bookmarked :(

97.

Hi! I’m not sure if you can help me find a lost fic. But I thought I’d give it a shot and ask. I read this Sterek fic within the last couple of months and i remember very little unfortunately. Basically I remember that stiles was allowed to sleep in dereks bed and Derek was acting like that was no big deal, but everyone else in the pack thought it was a massive deal because wolves and scent and stuff and I remember one of the women in the pack was pregnant but no idea who. This is so convoluted and I’m sorry. If you can’t find it no worries! Thanks!!

#lost fics #lost fic masterpost #sterek fic rec #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinksi

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mediocre--writing · 3 years

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i know we always talk about billy easily submitting to his dad but imagine this:

neil is charismatic, that must be where billy gets it, because he has the whole town fooled. nobody sees the demonic beast hiding under human flesh.

neil knows all the neighbors by name. he treats the custodian as he treats his boss. he offers help to old ladies with groceries and helps them cross the street.

people wonder why billy seems to glare at his father and disobey him so often; for how good a man neil is, it’s astonishing how resentful billy is of him.

billy will snark back in public, blatantly roll his eyes, flip him the bird when he’s not looking (and leave it up long enough for him to see when he turns).

the party thinks he’s an asshole who hates everyone. steve can��t believe the amount of disrespect he gives his dad. nancy and jonathan are floored at the vulgar words he speaks about him with, how he talks about him to his face.

max is more sympathetic than ever. how neil is so well known and widely liked by the people of hawkins and how nobody would ever even begin to believe a word of the truth billy could tell.

it’s almost like there’s nothing to be done. because as awful as neil is, there’s some days when billy won’t shut his mouth. and it gets him into trouble.

he’s spiteful and vindictive and vulgar when they shout at each other, but once billy is shoved against the wall, it’s a 50/50 chance he’s gonna fight back.

some days he can’t be bothered. is sick and tired of his own life, he lets the one ‘warning’ hit be enough.

other days he shoves back. he always gets shoved harder after. he’ll rile neil up to the point of maximum damage, but it’s so easy to get him angry it’s almost funny.

billy wishes, every time he gets hit, that some random townsperson would just walk into their living room. or kitchen. or billy’s bedroom. or, on one occasion, their back yard.

nobody sees billy hargrove: victim of abuse. they see billy hargrove: hates the nicest man in town. it’s ridiculous and billy can’t stand it.

he’s almost 18 now. he’s sick of hawkins and ready to leave and go anywhere but where his dad is.

but he wants one last joyride on the anger express. maybe ruin a reputation in the process.

so he acts out one day, while they’re walking down the sidewalk from a store max and susan had wanted to look at before grocery shopping.

billy knows how to get under neil’s skin. it’s one of the things he prides himself in knowing well.

he makes an off handed comment about how shitty it is that he’s being dragged into family outings. “we aren’t even a family,” he’ll say.

neil will give him a look. one that says he’s gonna get it when they’re home. where nobody can see who neil really is.

then billy brings up his mother, how she was so much better than neil could ever be. “she made the right decision to leave you,” he snickers as he watches neil’s fists clench.

a myriad of comments follow. ones about how neil is gonna lose another wife. ones about how he still can’t get billy into place. ones about how awful it must be to enjoy hating children.

there’s one more thing that he’s depending on to be the final fuse to make neil explode, right in broad daylight. bringing in the one thing neil hates most in life: “it’s too bad you’ve got a faggot for a son, huh?” billy says, just loud enough to be almost heard by the old lady walking a few steps in front of them.

when neil’s mustache curls into a pained grimace, billy knows he’s won. knows that he’s got the upper hand of the situation, even if he’s gonna get hit for it.

knows, right when the name “william,” comes out, threatening as ever, that he has won.

so he adds fuel to the fire. “do you think red or pink lipstick would look better with my complexion?” just to see the extra line that forms above neil’s eyebrows.

neil stops walking. turns to look at billy. they’re still in the middle of the sidewalk, max and susan a few feet away, stopped as well. max looks like she wants the floor to swallow her whole.

“well, you know, when i become a drag queen, i’ll have to look good, right?” billy asks his father, and it’s like he’s lost control over his own mouth. “so what’ll it be, dad? pink or red?”

and maybe the alarm bells and flashing red lights in billy’s head should have stopped him from talking. maybe he should have let this grocery trip be about getting weekly groceries.

but something about how he could see his fathers breathing speed up and his face turn so pink it’s almost purple, it’s fun.

with the added addition of seeing some of max’s little friends leaving the theatre at that moment.

right when the boys notice max, neil lunges for billy.

the old lady that had been steps in front of them has turned to see what the thud behind her was, only to see neil holding billy by his collar and his neck, shoved against a brick wall, billy’s toes barely touching the floor.

for being in such a compromising position, billy shouldn’t look as smug as he does when the old lady drops her purse with a gasp or when he sees max’s friends’ faces contort with fear. or when he sees harrington exit the movie theatre as well.

it happens quickly, the fight. billy thinks his brain went black and acted on instinct, he doesn’t remember a thing.

but the bystanders see it all. how close neil leans in to sneer something in billy’s face. how billy laughs, then lifts a knee to hit neil where it hurts.

how he stumbles enough for billy to get on his own two feet.

there’s a quick moment where neither moves, then neil rams into billy, but billy keeps his balance well, planted feet and all, and shoved neil back.

within the next minute, they’re both on the floor and alternating who’s got the upper hand. they’re decently matched as opponents, but neil has the upper hand. he’s taken billy down so many times he knows just how to bring him down physically, like how billy can destroy neil with words.

max and susan are backed up another few yards, susan holding max behind her, but not saying a thing. both are too shocked. this has never happened in public.

the party are watching from across the road, and steve feels like he should do something, because neil just slammed billys head into the cement. and he can’t really tell from how far they are, but billy’s nose is sure to be broken.

“call hopper,” steve instructs the party as he moves to walk across the street.

dustin grabs his arm before he can move far. “billy beat you once before, and now there’s like two of him, steve!”

steve walks over anyway. billy had been straddling neil prior, pushing a finger into his shoulder, before being slammed back to the ground.

there’s many different slurs being spewed from neil’s mouth, many of which change steve’s perception of billy entirely, but that’s not important now.

steve gets to where susan and max are when neil gets a grip on billy’s dangly dagger earring and pulls until it rips out of billy’s ear.

susan is staring, horrified at the scene, and max has shoved her face into the pink cardigan her mother wore, peeking out every moment or so.

when she spots steve, she doesn’t feel relived like she hoped she might, she just feels worse. more people don’t need to be involved.

“max, the party’s over there if you wanna...” steve suggests, motioning over his shoulder where the boys are crowded around a pay phone.

max pulls susan along with her across the road, glancing back at steve, who doesn’t seem to know what to do either.

what is he supposed to do? it’s not like dustin was wrong, steve’s never won a fight on his own.

luckily, right as he sees neil stand up and literally stomp as hard as he could on billy’s elbow, backwards, he hears a siren.

sees hopper’s cruiser pull around the corner and feels like a weight is both equally being lifted off his chest and being pushed down heavier.

neil is standing above billy, a few scrapes and forming bruises, ruffled clothes and a tear in the polo he was wearing, but nothing more damaged than his ego.

billy, on the other hand, is laying face down on the concrete, elbow bending in a way that is not natural and half his face covered in blood from both his nose and his ear.

neil looks only mildly frightened by hoppers appearance, and something about it rests uneasy with steve.

steve feels like he’s having an out of body experience as things happen. like he’s only there to observe, which he kinda is, but it’s hazy.

susan comes back, along with the boys following a shaken up max.

another cop, steve thinks it’s callahan, tries to wake billy up, because at some point neil had rendered him unconscious.

neil looks calm while this happens. he has an almost proud air about him as he watches a man try to wake up his son that he’d beaten so bad, he’d passed out.

it makes steve sick.

it also makes steve wonder if this were a semi common occurrence.

billy is driven to the hospital, mostly because his nose is crooked, his ear is still bleeding, and his elbow is most definitely facing the wrong direction, but they also think he may have cracked a rib or two.

neil is driven off in a cop car, callahan’s, while hopper stays to take stories.

it’s news to steve when susan and max share that this has happened multiple times, just never to such a detrimental state.

max recalls the first time that she’d met billy, he’d been wearing a cast on his arm and refused to tell her how he broke it.

steve sees billy in his head. sees the bruises on billy’s back when they’d play shirts and skins and how he’d chalked it up to a childish fight or a fun night with a girl.

sees how billy would favor his left leg for two weeks during basketball, and only wear sweats, but steve had noticed bruising around his right ankle when he’d change his shoes.

sees how billy seems to have insanely good intuition to when people are behind him or when he’s in a crowded place, always on the lookout.

sees, not justification, but a reason behind the way billy acts.

steve can’t imagine, even if his dad was like neil hargrove, having enough nerve to hit him back. even speak rudely towards him.

he recalls all the times he’d seen billy talk shit about his dad or snark at him in public. now he sees them as acts of bravery and defiance from an abuser rather than impolite and hateful towards a parent.

billy’s been fighting this whole time. and he’s been on the right side of the fight.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #steve harrington #kinda but not really harringrove but imma tag it anyway #harringrove #mw harringrove #mediocre—writing #lol none of this is proof read so good luck #tw abuse #tw domestic violence #tw neil hargrove #tw gore #kinda??

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dealwithwarlords · 3 years

Text

Ikemen Vampire and their Godly parents

Inspired by Percy Jackson.

Mozart: Apollo

Son of the God of light, of sun, of music, of truth, of poetry, and arts. May not be a leader but set trends. I will start with the most obvious fact and that is Mozart’s talent for music, as all of us know Apollo’s children are exceptional for the arts in general. Mozart is not someone that tends to laugh frequently but as a good children of Apollo, you can hear the sound of what it could be beautiful Bells when he does, and a smile as warm as the sun. Because of his prolonged time on practicing he sometimes has little to none sunlight, that makes him really moody (more than he already is) so taking some walks or playing with Schelm in the garden are necessary for his health even if he claims to not need it.

Not all of Apollo’s children are blond, some of them have physical traits that are related to the sun such as freckles, warm skin subtones, and even if their hair is black if you see it in the sun light you can see a golden or brownish reflection on their hair, in Mozart’s case if we see carefully there’s also warm subtones such as beige, and pink :

While other white haired characters have cold undertones like blue:

Because of Mozart’s incredible fair skin it’s easy for him to get freckles. Apollo’s children are lie detectors, as they say, you cannot cover the sun with your thumb, Mozart knows from miles away when someone is lying.

Apollo’s children are scary when they get mad, be aware of what they could do when they lose control, just like Mozart, it may seem like he’s always angry but he actually isn’t, when he’s angry you will know.

Apollo’s kids are naturally over dramatic, they turn everything into inspiration for music, plays, etc. remember that time when Mozart said that dry things like cookies are his “worst enemy”? Just because Marie Antoinette gave him a bunch of them, he didn’t know what to do and decided it was a good idea to stuff everything in his mouth...

To what MC finished laughing because ... bruh 😂

Isaac: Athena

Goddess of wisdom, handicraft, knowledge and warfare. Children of Athena are gifted with a sharp and brilliant mind. Do I have to say more ? Isaac is a genius, he has an incredible hunger for knowledge, and curiosity that makes him discover the most incredible things in this world. Children of Athena enjoy reading a good book and most of the time you can see them lost in their thoughts.

We know that Athena’s children can be street smart and book smart, the majority likes to be street smart since they already have a facility to keep info from books, but in the case of our apple boy he’s chosen to be book smart, this kind of children tend to have difficulties to relate to others and create deep bonds since their brilliant minds make them feel detached from the world that surrounds them.

Napoleon : Zeus

Charismatic

Natural leaders

Children of Zeus are the leaders struggling with the pressure of being leaders. Since they are such a reliable people, their friends usually seek for them when they need help, maybe they are not as wise as a child of Athena, but their empathy makes them good advisers too. They’re strong and resilient.

Serious but yet humorous

Assertive

Children of Zeus are prideful, they like to tease others but when the tables turn they don’t really know how to react (not like they are doormats but more like in a teasing way something like pikachu face: “you ... you just teased the son of the lightening.. right in front of my salad” that kind of reaction. It’s actually kind of cute 😂

They can be flighty or warm, depends of the person they are dealing with and their mood.

Physically traits could be grey, blue or in some cases green eyes. Children of Zeus usually have gray hairs since a young age.

Arthur: Dionysus

God of wine, madness, ecstasy and theatre

Children of Dionysus are sociable, charismatic and the life of the party. The ones with all the connections. They’re the friend that everyone references when they say ‘I know a guy’ and we all know that Arthur knows or at least recognizes a lot of faces in Paris.

Children of Dionysus are not only party people, they are really clever too, people usually don’t give them credit for how smart they really are, but they prefer to keep that intelligence hidden ‘cause they don’t want to intimidate anyone, after all the party needs to continue !

They are the ones you can always count on to have a good time. The best telling jokes and reading the atmosphere of a room. they are the ones you call when you’re upset and just want to forget about reality for a night.

Stubborn, determined and chaotic nature.

Most of Dionysus children are empaths, that’s how they can feel the mood so well and make everyone have a good time, nevertheless if they don’t have a control over this ability it can be bad for their health, appropriating other people's problems or feeling guilty if they cannot help their friends as a good “host” would do.

Another thing, Arthur really seems to enjoy alcoholic beverages such as beer, wine, etc. besides coffee.

Talking about physical traits Dionysus children rock semi long hair, this chill and laid back appearance is the signature of the god of party and wine. Even when they wear formal clothes you can see this relaxed look on them.

I remember one time I read a post where it said that Dionysus children often have the nicest shoes in the room (idk why? 😂) BUT DUDE that’s true, there was also other post where you guys were talking about who had the best taste in shoes and guess who was one of the best fashionistas 👌👌😂

Also, olive undertones, in hair, skin, etc. if we see Arthur’s hair for example, sometimes it doesn’t appear to be entirely blue, it also has olive undertones:

Jean: Hades

God of the underworld

Talking about children of hades we can see that they are not only the “quiet ones” but also people with a sharp intuition. They observe everything and everyone, quietly. Tend to hold grudges and feel out of place, they stay a lot of time inside their heads and because of this children of hades usually have a hard time finding their “meaning in life” or “their place in this world”. Since they are deep they have a difficult time relating to others, meanwhile everyone is talking about the trends of the year, children of Hades are in other Chanel .

They like to be by their own, or maybe with someone that actually understands them.

I think most of the time people only focus on their “dark personality” and forget to appreciate other traits like the incredible willpower that they have to achieve anything that attracts their attention.

Physically talking, as we all know, children of Hades have dark tones in their hair, eyes and skin tone. There’s something cold in their appearance that makes them look intimidating and mysterious

Vincent : Apollo

Do I really need to explain this one ? 😂😂

I will just cover some facts that relate to Apollo’s children since Vincent is like the PERFECT example of what is being an Apollo’s child.

I think Vincent has a BIG potential to learn any instrument that he likes, also archery but I doubt it since he wouldn’t like to hurt anyone.

Is easy for Children of Apollo to tan, just imagine our angel with a beautiful sexy tan 🙌🏻😫✨

EMBODIMENT OF LIGHT

also, Apollo’s children are healers, and Vincent wants not only to help but if possible heal everyone’s suffer, as we can see in his route, he wants to help MC with her anxiety to return to her time nevertheless he’s never too pushy and waits until MC feels prepared to open up to him.

Apollo’s children are people pleasers, in a mini drama, Vicent tells Leonardo that if there was a girl in the mansion he wouldn’t know how to behave, since he only wants to give a good impression.

Leonardo : Hephaestus

Children of Hephaestus , Their minds are constantly working on something and their ideas running wild.

They have SO many ideas that they have dozens of project running AT THE SAME TIME, they can even compete with children of Athena.

Some of this children may not be geniuses but out of their curiosity and hunger for knowledge is because they can become worthy opponents to the other god or goddesses children.

Masters on none, but master of many.

They also got that freaking cheeky smile of their father.

Intelligent, good looking and good jokes.

Physically talking children of Hephaestus have strength in their upper body, just like their father, they have enough strength in their hands, arms and back to carry or forge any metal and turn it into a weapon (or any creation but you get me) what usually makes them have (on males) big shoulders or backs and in females, they have shorter but stronger fingers.

Comte : Aphrodite

Who was the one that fell in love in the middle of war ????

YUP this guy ☝️

Children of Aphrodite are hopeless romantic, they find beauty and love in the darkest places and times. They are the ones that you go for advice (not the kind of advice you would go to Athena, but one that helps your heart to find a solution).

They like luxury and aesthetic stuff, Comte with all the money that he has could be living his life like Leo, relaxing, giving little attention to appearances, etc. BUT NO

DADDY COMTE NEEDS TO WEAR HIS DIOR PAJAMAS AND RELAX IN A ROMAN BATH THANK YOU. It’s not like he’s superficial, but he just likes to pamper himself.

Children of Aphrodite have charm speak, Idk you but every time Comte speaks is like velvet for my ears. Most of the time people only see Aphrodite’s children as superficial, not so intelligent and unnecessary at battle but they are dead wrong, actually they are really observant and can be manipulative since they understand and almost feel others people emotions and intentions.

Even though their mother is the Goddess of Love, they can hide their emotions pretty well

It is known that Aphrodite’s children can speak fluently French and Oh look at that Comte is French, coincidence ? I DONT THINK SO.

Theo: Ares

God of war

Children of Ares are topically seen as this really short-tempered guy /girl but there’s more about them. I’m gonna start with the basic personality traits, Children of Ares are stubborn as hell, does it reminds you of Theo ? 😅 they are also really protective of those they love, it may not appear like it but they don’t like injustice, so when they see someone that’s being a jerk they fight with everything they got, sometimes they exaggerate tho.

HATES GOSSIP they like to say thing straight to the point and don’t have filter, sometimes they may seem rude but they are just saying the truth

Doesn’t take shit from anyone

Determinant and never gives up, they also give (its rare but they do) advices when they see you really struggling with something, an example of this could be when (in Leo’s route) MC had a hard time deciding what to choose between staying in 19th century France or coming back to her time with Leo, to what Theo noticed her struggling and gave her a brief but nice advice.

HARD ON THE OUTSIDE SOFT ON THE INSIDE

Children of Ares are aware that they intimidate their siblings, that’s why they become silent and prefer to stay in their cabin, but if you want them to open up to you, a nice smile and kind personality would be a great combo to go with them.

Children of Ares are really intelligent, after all their father is also a strategist.

Shakespeare: Hades

Again ... do I have to explain this one ? 😂

Shakespeare is deep af. Children of Hades see the deepest and darkest things in life, that’s why they tend to feel depressed, but because of that they also can see the brightest parts. This contrast usually is embodied in an artistic way, it may be in plays, dancing, singing, stories, etc.

The goth friend

Children of Hades are one of the kindest siblings among all God and Goddesses out there since they know what loneliness feels like.

guess who feels like that ? YUP Will does

they like to be alone but not lonely.

Dazai: Dionysus

Dionysus was known to be a Reckless, crazy god that resembled freedom and fun. Children of Dionysus are usually found smiling for ... no specific reason, some could say is even scary or suspicious, like if they were drunk 😅.

Dionysus has parties where everyone dances and can fall into madness and ecstasy. Dazai is a sensual man, he has this aura that is just so appealing and comfortable to be with, but he is still a mystery, just like his father. Dyonisus was a god that usually doesn’t get in other’s people problems but it is known that he has a lot of powers, and the majority remains a mystery to humans.

Dazai is someone that craves to feel and be loved, but is scared to be rejected for who he really is, instead of that he prefers to show the “clown facade” that everyone likes, after all is easier to have “company” in a party full of people that you don’t know but they don’t really care about you than opening up to someone and being vulnerable.

People usually describe children of Dionysus as “crazy”

They are normally underestimated, but they have an incredible ability for the arts, they create the most crazy yet deep monologues.

These people tend to get obsessed over things they like, this is somewhat bad for them since they can get addicted to things like alcohol, tobacco, etc.

Talking about physical traits, Dazai is like the perfect definition of a Dionysus child, chill appearance, medium long hair, PURPLE HAIR, likes (maybe a little too much) alcohol, smooth voice.

Sebastian : Demeter

Goddess of agriculture, fertility, nature, and seasons.

Children of Deméter have this motherly figure in their group of friends.

Natural protectors.

Great cooks

They can be really strict at scolding their friends, family etc. but they just want the best for their loved ones.

Children of Deméter aren’t really aggressive, but don’t get in their wrong side which would be trying to hurt their family, because they go havoc.

They have an amazing intuition, just like a good mother.

Their personalities are calm and collected, they may panic on the inside when something bad happens but never let it show.

Deméter children are so aware of the details they are the ones that give the best gifts since they know deeply their loved ones, what they like and what they don’t, again, like a good mother.

Faust: Hecate

Goddess of magic, witchcraft, ghosts, necromancy and crossroads.

Children of Hecate are really intelligent and have an amazing memory, after all they have to memorize dozens of spells.

They usually have lots of books, since they have to know the functionality and sources of the magic they are using.

CU RI O US

They may appear frightening since they face and aesthetic aren’t really welcoming sometimes, but they are actually pretty nice.

SNAKE PERSONALITY

cunning and ambitious

Children of Hecate know how to handle necromancy, which makes them closer to death, that’s why talking about this kind of topics doesn’t scare them.

Children of Hecate can be obsessive, they can stay all day and all night practicing their witchcraft, PLS SOMEONE TAKE THEM OUT OF THEIR ROOM.

They have a different type of aesthetic, maybe is not totally GOTH but there’s something religious or spiritual there, they believe that there is a superior power in the world.

Incredibly good teachers. They may not be as charismatic as Apollo kids, but they are patient and good listeners.

Calm but can be sadists too so be careful.

Vlad : Nemesis

Children of Nemesis, as their mother, tend to hold grudges and is really difficult for them to forget those who wrong them.

They can go ExTrEMe lengths in their revenge, elaborate plans that doesn’t matter how much time they take, they will do it.

Maybe scarier than Children of Ares.

Yandere personality who ?

They are really observant and intelligent, they have the ability to find Achilles ankle of any of their enemies.

Manipulative, that gives them the ability to awake rage on the ones they want like allies.

Curiously children of Nemesis have a strong sense of justice and balance, and they will do anything to carry on with their ideals, even if that means taking extreme measures.

Physically talking there’s always red on them, and I’m talking about red hair, liking for red color, and oh ! Look at that, who has red eyes ??

Charles : Tyche

Goddess of chance, fate and fortune.

I really had a hard time deciding for this one, and I don’t know a lot about him but from what I’ve seen I can say he’s a Tyche’s child.

Children of Tyche are extremely friendly and enthusiastic.

J O K E S

very hyperactive

Smarter than they look, observant and empaths, also they like to prank people like a pixie would do.

Pretty smiles, and they giggle like a lot.

Usually green eyes.

Obviously they like to gamble or if the other participants doesn’t like to, Children of Tyche conform with just playing

They love nature and animals.

A kid in an adult body

Don’t let their cute smiles, dimples or freckles fool you, they can be manipulative.

Idk why but I imagine Tyche kids with fairy like features, maybe that’s why lots of them have a short height.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #otome #otome games #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp comte #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp theo #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp jean

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

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DK (Seokmin) x (gender neutral) Reader | college AU fluff | 4.2k words

synopsis: seokmin first captured your attention with his smile, and you were more than enthralled. then you captured HIS attention by utterly destroying his favourite scarf and then fleeing the scene (oops). but surely you can fix this before things get awkward, right?

a/n: it ended up more platonic than it did romantic but oh well,,, this is a very specific plot i apologize LOL

taglist: @elcie-chxn @woozisnoots (hi alex this is the seokmin fic you asked me to tag you in like MONTHS ago sksfhdjkjdsf) [send and ask or dm if you ever wanna be tagged in my works!]

=====

You've always called him the scarf boy. On alternating days, it was the sunshine(y) boy.

The first day you met him was actually about a week into the semester, when you glanced over to your left and saw him sitting on the other side of the lecture hall. Nothing out of the ordinary. Normally, you would’ve just looked away and carried on with your life. It’s not unusual for your eyes to wander around as you zoned in and out of the professor’s speech. That's what you get for always staying up late the night before.

But on that day, you found your eyes fixated on the boy for the next few minutes, and you watched as he whispered something to his friend. It must’ve been something funny because soon they were both giggling like fools and he smiled from ear to ear.

And it was that smile that captivated you because you don't think you've ever seen such a bright smile before.

His face was familiar. Surely you've seen him many, many times before today, you thought. And yet you couldn't place a name on the classmate.

You brought your attention back to the lecture for a brief second and then looked at your friend, Seungkwan, who sat to your left. You gently nudged him with your elbow and he spared a glance your way before going back to his notes. You nudged him again, this time a little harder.

“Hm?” He still didn’t look up from his notebook, but you knew you had his attention now.

“Do you know who that guy is?” You gestured with your head in the smiley boy’s direction, and Seungkwan finally looked up to follow your gaze.

“Oh, you mean the literal ball of sunshine that doesn't know how to shut up?” He replied in one breath.

“Huh?”

"I said that as a good thing, by the way. Or, for the most part. His name is Lee Seokmin, everyone on campus calls him a happy virus 'cause he keeps on smiling." He paused to scribble something down.

It was probably something important and you should've written it as well, but you could tell he had more to say. You patiently waited.

"I've heard that he's in the theatre club, but I'm not too sure. He's Soonyoung's friend, but not really mine."

"So he's a theatre kid, huh." You echoed quietly and Seungkwan quirked an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking? Also, I'm not lending my notes, it's your problem for not paying attention."

"I was just wondering." You answered a little too quickly but tried to divert the attention elsewhere by busying yourself with re-organizing your own notes. "And if you lend me notes, I'll bring snacks for you tomorrow." You added quietly when the professor glanced your way after shushing Seokmin and his friend.

"Deal." You heard him whisper back after a minute and his notebook slid into your vision.

=====

A few days later, you went to class early so that you could finish up a small assignment to prepare for the lesson. Once again, nothing out of the ordinary.

You sat in your usual spot — not too far in the back, but also not too close to the front. Just enough for you to see the board and sneakily hold conversations without really being noticed.

There weren’t any assigned seats, but by now, it was a convention that everyone sat in the same spot every day. The spot beside yours was always saved for Seungkwan, and the spot beside his was saved for that one kid who only showed up once a month.

You were finishing up the last few pages when a loud “HELLO” echoed in the hall and you whipped your head towards the doorway.

It was that boy — Seokmin — dressed in a soft yellow hoodie, hair slightly ruffled as if he hadn’t bothered to fix it after waking up. Around his neck was the red knitted scarf he always wore the moment the weather grew cold. (Though you swore you've seen him wear it in the middle of the sweltering summer). He smiled widely, waving to the half-empty hall and then to the professor who simply chuckled at his entrance. That smile stayed on his face the entire time he made his way to his seat.

From then on, you began to understand why people called him a happy virus.

The next day, you found yourself going to class early again, this time, because you honestly didn’t have anything better to do. Besides, arriving at a good time always made you comfortable. The moment the clock struck 8:46, the same boy appeared.

"HELLO!~"

This time, it was sung out in a (very beautiful) falsetto, and you wondered how it was even possible for him to be this exuberant so early in the morning. Waking up was always a struggle on your part.

Just as quickly as the show started, the boy shut himself up after receiving a few tired "hellos" from his classmates and took a seat.

The day went by accordingly.

Since you were little, you've always been told that something needs to be repeated at least three times for it to be considered a pattern. So you decided to go to class early just one more time. You told yourself it's so that you could see you were missing out on things. In case coming to class just in time was a bad habit. A lousy excuse, really.

You knew that you just wanted to see Seokmin again.

Sure enough — it was a Thursday that day — he came in, this time in a navy blue cardigan, but still with the same red scarf. The "hello" today was a little more subdued and based on the package he had in his hands, you guessed he had stayed up all night practicing his lines. When his greeting was met with unusual silence you looked around to see that everyone was far more focused on the upcoming test than the boy at the door. So you mustered up the courage to be the one greeting him that day and he immediately perked up, sending you an appreciative smile. His eyes remained brighter as he walked over to his seat.

You decided to come to class early every day after that.

=====

As the seasons changed, so did your classes, and you were more than happy to realize that you and Seokmin shared not just one, but two classes this semester.

Bouncing on your toes a little bit, you silently willed for the people in front of you to hurry the heck up. The narrow stairwell did no good for the congestion of students trying to get by.

You glanced at your phone again to see that class was starting in just 3 minutes and grimaced at your predicament. You knew your professor loved starting lectures right on the clock, so you were already cutting it pretty close when you agreed to help someone with their spilled drinks before you got here. But now... did these students really have to carry their gigantic project up the stairs?

You had hoped that maybe they would step aside and let you scurry your way up to the second floor — that was literally all you needed for them. However, they seemed to be far too engrossed with the fact that one of the components was coming apart in the stuffy stairwell and you let out a sigh, backing out the door.

If they won't take the elevator then you supposed you will instead.

Thankfully, the usually crowded elevator was fairly empty, and you managed to score one all to yourself. That was a win for you if only everything else had gone as smoothly as that. Your day had only started and circumstances have suggested that it wasn't going to be the best ones out there.

Perhaps, it was also partly your fault for blasting music through your headphones in the morning. That caused you to get a little lost in your thoughts on the way here, it also caused you to bump into a few unsuspecting people. Or perhaps, it was because you decided that it was a good idea to check your phone after receiving a text to hurry to class when the elevator door was closing.

But you like to think that it was maybe also his fault for stuffing his face with a bagel at 8 am in the morning, rendering him unable to clearly shout out at you to keep the elevator door open.

You looked up at the strangled noise and saw Seokmin barrelling towards you, his one free hand wildly waving at you to do something about the situation. You, just as frantic as the boy was, rushed to smash the "open" button to no avail as the door continued to close with every step he took.

He made it, much to your relief, tumbling into the lift and almost spilling his coffee onto you (another drink disaster would've ruined your day completely). You didn't have much time to congratulate him for his feat, however, because you both watched in horror as his iconic knitted red scarf — caught in between the doors of the elevator — began to tear and unravel itself.

Seokmin frantically lifted the scarf over his head and tried to pull it out of the elevator's grip while you reached down and grabbed it in an attempt to help. But all efforts were futile when the last stitch came apart, and he was left with only a fraction of what used to be his favourite red scarf. Your stomach twisted itself when you looked up and saw the distress in his eyes, his teeth biting down on his lip as if he was contemplating the best way to curse you out.

He was an actor though, and you could tell he was putting up a facade to hide how upset he actually was. His eyes wavered as he stared at the scarf, now reduced to a mess of yarn and his lips tugged into a weary smile.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to close the door on you it was an accident." You blurted out.

Seokmin didn't answer, but the elevator door dinged open as your phone buzzed with its second alarm of the day. Class was starting.

Your hand slipped into your pocket to turn off the alarm and you looked back at Seokmin, eyes begging for forgiveness. "Look, let's meet up again sometime later so I can make it up to you, okay? I promise that I'll fix this."

And with that, you sprinted away from the scene, leaving the poor boy alone with his destroyed scarf.

=====

"Let me get this straight — the elevator door closed too soon and Seokmin's scarf got caught and tore apart and now you're worried that he hates you 'cause you think the scarf is really important to him?"

You nodded.

Seungkwan sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to return to his notes. "This reads like a fanfic someone wrote at 5 am."

"It what." You blinked and he dismissed the question.

"Nothing, nothing. Did you get his number? Any way to contact him?"

You gave him a sheepish look. "I forgot to ask, I kinda ran away."

"You ran away?"

"It was an accident okay! I was nervous. But we have a lecture with him tomorrow morning, right? I could just talk to him then."

Seungkwan raised an eyebrow. "And you'll be able to muster up the courage by tomorrow? It took you 10 minutes to even tell me what happened, what do you plan to do?"

You bit your lip and stared at the forgotten work on your laptop. "Good question, I have no idea how to make up for it. Scrap talking to him tomorrow."

You both settled into silence as Seungkwan continued on with his notes and you leaned back in your chair. All sorts of ideas ran through your mind, but not of them seemed like the right one.

Then it hit you.

"That's it!" You gasp and sat straight up again, accidentally startling Seungkwan who whined about his smudged diagram. "I'll buy him another scarf, the exact same one."

"That's a good idea." He hummed. "But how will you know which one to buy?"

"I was hoping you'd have his socials? We could do some classic investigating." You suggested.

Seungkwan's eyes lit up at that and he reached over to grab his phone. "If Soonyoung's friends with him, then they're probably following each other so... Ah! There he is. A childish username, as expected."

He gave his phone to you and you scrolled through Seokmin's profile, many were pictures of food or his friends, but you stopped at one photo that caught your eye. It was of him at a park, trying to act casual for a photo (as anyone would), but wrapped around his neck was the famous red scarf.

"Perfect." You muttered to yourself. Now all you had to do was buy that scarf and hope that it comes quickly.

Or else things would become terribly awkward.

=====

Buying that scarf turned out to be much more difficult than you thought it would be.

No matter how deep you searched on the internet or how many times you looked at the photo of his precious scarf, there was no trace of the exact same copy.

"Don't tell me it was handmade." You groaned and got up from your seat to flop onto your bed instead. You stared at the ceiling for a while, long enough for your laptop to fall asleep.

"Maybe it's a high-end brand?" You speculated quietly to yourself and rolled onto your side to stare at the wall instead.

"No... This guy eats ramen every other day in the caf, there's no way he can afford that."

You rolled onto your back once more and pouted at absolutely no one.

Why did you have to get into this situation with someone you hardly knew?

=====

The next day you went to class at the normal time to avoid having to see Seokmin when he inevitably greets the class. However, when you took your seat and discreetly glanced at his spot, it was empty. Minus Soonyoung's bag that sat there instead.

You chewed on your lip for a while, wondering if his unusual absence had anything to do with yesterday.

"Good morning!"

Your shoulders relaxed at the familiar voice and you almost let yourself send him a smile when you remembered that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You immediately stiffened and stared at your table. Seokmin didn't look your way for the entirety of the lecture, which you were almost grateful for, but it also left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

On the way out, he did end up glancing at you and you immediately turned to Seungkwan to strike up a meaningless conversation.

"Make it seem like we're busy with something, he's looking my way."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "I talked to Soonyoung yesterday and he brought up what happened 'cause apparently he thought it was really funny. He said Seokmin wasn't mad but didn't really know what he's supposed to be doing either."

You nodded, pretending like you were listening to him and he continued on.

"Seokmin's a kind soul, you know. I doubt he's ever been angry at anyone before."

"That just makes me feel even worse though," You whined and watched Seokmin leave the room with another classmate by his side. "And I told him that we'd meet up again but I'm not ready at all. What's he gonna think about that?"

"Then you could go up to him and say that you're still sticking to your promise, but you still need time to think about what to do. Maybe he'll tell you what he wants then." Your friend suggested, poking at your work to tell you to start cleaning up.

"I think I'm going to avoid him until I'm fully prepared. So I don't mess this up." You decided, completely ignoring Seungkwan's words and the boy sighed.

"What did I do to have such dense friends?"

=====

The week before exams was spent cramming some last-minute studying with your friends in the community library.

It's been a while since you last spoke to Seokmin.

Which translates to "you haven't spoken to Seokmin since the incident."

You ignored those worries and buried yourself in work instead. Using yet another excuse to get out of the very problem you should probably be prioritizing.

Besides, focusing on Minghao and Jun, who were bickering over who left the empty juice carton in the mini-fridge seemed far more interesting. You giggled when Minghao practically brought out photo evidence to defend his point and Jun spluttered out a shocked response after being called out. As their conversation grew louder and louder, you quickly scanned the library, searching for the librarian to make sure you weren't going to be chewed out for being noisy.

You stopped when you spotted Seokmin sitting next to Chan, who ran the dance club you've always admired. His nose was buried in a book. It was only for a brief moment — perhaps a second or two — but you stared at him from afar, taking in his sharp features and gentle smile.

When he felt your gaze on him and locked eyes with you, you immediately looked away, trying to not let him know that you saw him.

"I gotta go." You muttered and packed up your stuff, leaving behind a bewildered Minghao and even more bewildered Jun (who was still trying to recover from the previous attack).

All those days preparing yourself crumbled right in front of you. This wasn't supposed to be happening, this wasn't moving according to the plan you promised you'd stick to.

He wasn't supposed to beat you to it.

"Y/n!"

You carried on, pretending to have not heard him and prayed that he would just give up. He was Lee Seokmin though, so of course, he didn't stop.

"Y/N!" He shouted a little louder this time and you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, just like on that fateful day at the elevator. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the confrontation.

"Hey, Seokmin."

To your surprise, he gave you a big smile. "Hey! 'Was worried I wouldn't be able to catch you just now. You were walking so quickly, where are you headed?"

"Oh..." Away from you. You thought to yourself, but said something else, trying to play it cool. "Nowhere in particular, just on a walk. Needed some fresh air after spending so much time in the library. It’s always stuffy when everyone’s cramming for exams." You rambled on.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure." You lied with a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, with you leading the way, cheeks heating up with every second that passed.

"You've been avoiding me haven't you?" He finally spoke up.

The tips of your ears burned. "I wasn't trying to."

"If it's about what happened in the elevator, you don't have to worry about it." He prompted lightly and you stopped walking.

"Well, I am worrying about it." You admitted. "Because not only was that your first impression of me, but I know that scarf meant a lot to you and it was such a stupid way for it to get destroyed."

You took a deep breath and continued before he could think of an answer. "I'm trying to buy you another scarf, but I've been having some trouble finding it anywhere..." You admitted.

"Ah," Seokmin chuckled. "My grandmother made that scarf so I doubt you'd be able to find it online."

"It was from your grandmother?" You rubbed your face, thinking about all the hours spent examining the photo and struggling to find the perfect match. "I'm so sorry, that's even worse than it just being your favourite."

He shrugged. "Nah, it's fine, I got over it after that day."

You couldn't hide the look of surprise when he said that.

"To be honest, she's been trying to get me to ditch that scarf because I wore it too much. It's a good excuse to get a new one now!" He finished happily and you suddenly felt less tense.

"Your grandmother makes nice scarves, though. I never knew that there was a little design on it until, well, until it ripped. But it was beautiful! Please give her my compliments."

Seokmin let out a shy laugh. "Ah, you're talking about the little bunnies and sunflowers stitched onto it, right? I've always worn the scarf inside out because I don't know what people will think when they see it."

"What?!" You blurted out, incredulous. "They're really cute! If anyone were to hate on the cute bunnies then they're going to have a word with me." You joked, pretending to get into a fighting stance. "I would definitely wear that scarf proudly, but what makes you comfortable, of course."

"Interesting. Hearing that does make me a little for confident." He hummed. The conversation stilled for a brief second before he spoke up again. "What are your plans for the break?"

You blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Uhm, nothing much, probably just heading back to spend time with family."

"Cool! My plans are the same. How about you meet me..." He walked over to a nearby bench and planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Exactly here on the day, we get back. Does that sound okay?"

"Why?" You asked, but he was already backing away. You stepped forward, insisting on an answer but he refused to give you one and you could only nod your head in agreement.

"I'll see you then... I guess..." You called out weakly, speaking to practically no one because the boy was already on his way elsewhere.

And just like that, your conversation with Lee Seokmin ended.

====

Winter break soon arrived and left as quickly as it came.

You arrived exactly 5 minutes before the meeting time and Seokmin arrived exactly 5 minutes after the meeting time.

"Y/n!"

You waved when you heard the familiar voice and the two of you shared a warm smile despite the cold weather.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," He continued. "How have you been!"

"I've been alright, how about you?"

He replied with his own "same old, same old" and you sent him a curious look when the small talk died down. "So why did you ask to meet up today?"

"Yes! About that." His hand drifted towards his neck and he didn't even have to speak for you to piece two and two together.

Wrapped around his neck was a new scarf, the same style as the old one, but this time, it was a soft shade of pink. Embroidered along the front was a small line of bunnies and flowers, perfect for the spring that was soon to come.

You brightened at the sight and let out a small gasp. "You got a new one! Nice!"

"Yep! And," Seokmin placed something warm in your hands and you realized he's been carrying it with him this entire time. "This is for you."

You stared at the scarf in your hands. It was a lovely shade of blue. "Wh— why do I get a scarf too?"

He laughed and fidgeted with his sleeves. "You spoke so fondly of my old one, I thought you'd appreciate having one for yourself so I asked my grandmother to make an extra one."

"That makes me feel even worse!" You cried out, guilty for not only ruining his old scarf but also inadvertently making him do more work to gift you something you didn't think you deserved.

"No, please don't feel bad!" He immediately replied, eyes wide to get his message across. "She was happy to make another and honestly, I just wanted to clear things up so that we don't start off on the wrong foot, you know?"

"Thank you." You pouted, still feeling a little bad, but you wrapped the scarf around your neck nevertheless. Seokmin smiled as he watched you and you grabbed the end of the scarf to admire the handiwork.

"They have the same pattern. We're matching with each other now." You quietly noted and suddenly the atmosphere between you two grew warmer.

"I guess we are! This makes us scarf buddies now, I guess." Seokmin smiled sheepishly. "We are bound by an unfortunate incident, but I hope to turn it into something positive. We can be friends, right?"

"I should be the one asking you that, idiot." You replied with a grin. The grip you had on the scarf got a little bit tighter. "Of course we can be friends, I would love to be your friend."

The smile on his face reminded you of when you first saw him.

Suddenly, your phone went off in your pocket, signalling that it was a good time to start heading to class. So much for an easy transition back into the school year.

"I should probably get going now," You started at the same time Seokmin spoke up.

"I promised I would meet up with—"

You both paused mid-sentence before bursting out in laughter at the coincidence.

"We have a lecture together tomorrow, right?" He asked excitedly and you nodded. "We can continue our conversation later then."

You laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, scarf buddy."

=====

The next day went by accordingly, starting with a familiar “HELLO!~” from the boy who loved to eat bagels at 8 in the morning and wear scarves in any kind of weather.

The only difference is that this time, he took the seat to your right instead of one at the opposite end of the hall. He greeted you with a smile and you happily started up a lively conversation before class started. Decorating both your outfits were your matching scarves, flowers and rabbits on the outside for the world to see.

This way, everyone could know that you guys were scarf buddies.

#newskynet #kdiner #caratwritersclub #seventeen #lee seokmin #dk #dokyeom #seventeen dk #seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #dk fluff #seokmin fluff #nose-bandaid

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korijime · 3 years

Text

— apaixonar

(verb.) to fall in love with someone or something, the act of falling in love

shigaraki tomura, boku no hero academia

fluff, modern!college!au, social anxiety, slightly sexual jokes, swearing

wc ; one thousand six hundred and fifty nine words

dt ; @t-amajiki

riyuu says ; ahh, i don’t know what to say here. i started this last night, but i got the idea a really long time ago in one of our conversations. i was really scared about getting his character right and i hope i did it some justice. big thank you to @tokyoghoose for proof-reading!! i’d have cried if the mistakes you pointed out weren’t fixed sbdubdidjd

this is kinda a part of a series..i guess? there’s two more fics coming, so i guess it’s 1/3 of the fics i wrote for gere and 1/6 of all the gifts i made for them in total.

so yes, happy birthday, gere. i love you to the moon and back and i’d do damn near anything for you. i hope you like your gifts. ♡

“oi, crusty, look over there.”

the ‘crusty’ in question, a pale-faced young man, cast an annoyed glance in the direction of his partner’s finger. he never once listened to what dabi had to say, yet he knew from the tone in his voice that it would be something that had to do with you. and so he looked, and he didn’t regret listening.

he looked past the window of the chemistry lab, past the other annoyances, and towards you, sitting in the grass with your green-haired friend. he looked at you, sitting in the grass with the late morning sunlight engulfing most of your form, casting a makeshift halo over your head. a well-deserved one, at that. subconsciously resting his face onto his gloved hand, he turned completely towards the window, towards you, his experiment long forgotten.

“okay, jesus christ, stop it. you look like a creep.”

and there goes the moment.

his once ‘softened’ eyes and good mood vanished as soon as dabi spoke up again, his form hunching and his face contorting into annoyance once again.

“no, i don’t. you’re the creep.”

“sure, i was the one who sighed when they smiled for the camera, right?”

“shut up. you’re the creep, i’m right.”

of course that bastard was looking at him while he, in dabi’s words, ‘fawned’ over you.

he didn’t. he just knew how to appreciate good things. it didn’t really matter whether or not his cheeks and ears became heaters whenever you’d look at him, it happens to everyone.

right?

“not right. factually incorrect. you’re a dumbass, go ask them out.”

“i’m the dumbass when you’re the one who blew up our project not even two minutes ago? i’m not a mirror, you easy-bake oven.”

and so on and so forth, until the bell finally rang to signal the end of their day.

tomura shigaraki, never one to listen to anything his ‘best friend’ says, never one to hang around anyone except dabi and a few others, was seen moving methodically and quite swiftly through the halls of u.a academy, heading straight towards the small group of third-years standing at the far end of the corridor.

they’d known him for three years, they knew his mannerisms and the way his mind worked. it was only natural that both toga and twice had to fish out five dollars each to hand to a very smug-looking dabi, who only watched with a shit-eating grin as tomura went up to you.

he could feel his friends’ eyes on his back, but it didn’t register in his mind which was currently screaming at him to get the hell out of this situation what were you thinking because now not only you and your friends but a couple of other students and even teachers in the corridor were gawking at the infamous anti-social boy who was looking at his shoes like they were the love of his life and not you.

his stomach twisted and churned painfully, the nausea he felt was nothing compared to the embarrassment and humiliation he felt, the same embarrassment which was painted bright on his face.

maybe he could just pretend he wanted your notes and call it a day and go home and cry—

“aye, you crusty fuck! don’t chicken out now or you’re doing my homework for the next week!”

fuck that fucking blue haired porcupine ass smug-looking son of a bit-

“ne, shigaraki-kun, did you need something?”

he sent his prayers to whatever god was above for sending an actual angel to be standing in front of him and pull him out of his formerly very quickly approaching spiral.

“are you..areyoufreeafterclasses?”

you furrowed your brows and stepped closer to him, ignoring the way tsuyu tried to pull you back. tomura was your friend, or at the very least, your acquaintance, she had no reason to be so wary.

“what was that? i didn’t catch that.”

the construction of the academy and the location of the institute was quite unfortunate, it would have been better suited in one of the islands near florida so that the bermuda triangle could’ve just swallowed it up so he wouldn’t have to be in this situation where he wanted nothing more than to evaporate into fucking water vapour why are you looking at him like THAT-

“are..you free after classes? i need your help with something.”

“oh! yeah, sure! what do you need help with?”

and apparently that was the director’s cue for everyone to go back to minding their own business. the students’ chatters started up again and the ones that had stopped to watch realised they had better things to do than gawk at the college loner asking the pretty one for help. even your friend group stepped back to let the two of you have some semblance of privacy, and tomura had never felt more relieved.

“you’re, uh, in fine arts, right? i have a project on that and i need to know more about it.”

he made the effort to finally look up and he was glad he did. like really, really glad. because the way you were looking at him with the same smile you’d given the camera, your hands clasped together as you leaned towards him, really just made all the embarrassment and humiliation worth it.

“sure! just let me say bye to my friends and we can get going, i know a good cafe near the campus.”

he only nodded and turned at the same time you did, heading towards the shitheads while you headed for your friends.

“would you look at that, crusty-no-balls finally grew some.”

“nice one, tomura! make sure to get their number!”

“toga-chan, they will be studying together, i doubt they’ll have time for that.”

and the rest was tuned out as he leaned on his locker, looking out towards the gates and back at you. he really did that, didn’t he? worked up the guts to ask you out, even if it was under the guise of a study session. which wasn’t a complete lie, what the hell did ‘fine arts’ mean, anyway?

“visual arts! stuff like painting and architecture and theatre, alongside others. i’m pretty sure poetry and prose are on there too.”

“wait, so you’re taking all of that? how.”

it was late afternoon now, around three or four when he had last checked. time wasn’t really important right now, not when he managed to kill two birds with one stone.

he was getting to spend time with you and do his project, added with you talking about your passions as a bonus.

he stopped typing and reached for his drink, which he did not choose because you told him to, thank you very much and fuck off, dabi.

looking back towards the screen, he realised he was almost done with his project, which was a surprise as he was sure he was paying zero attention to the project itself and hundred percent attention to you instead.

could anyone blame him? no.

no, they couldn’t.

they couldn’t blame him for having his attention on you when you went into the fine details of prose and theatre, using hand gestures to try and get across the point which you couldn’t do so with words. apparently you thought he knew sign language. which he did. it was an option, seemed interesting, nothing more nothing less.

is what he told dabi when he asked. but no, the real reason was the one you knew, which was the fact that the shelter he volunteers at has some people who prefer to use sign language, whatever the reason may be. he knew how it felt to be forced into doing something even though you’re comfortable with something else, but you can’t do that something else because it’s not convenient for others.

so yeah, sign language.

he was pretty sure it earned him some brownie points with you, for which he wasn’t complaining.

what he was complaining about, though, was the fact that you thought it’d be a good idea to steal a bite of his pastry while he was lost in thought.

“hey! thief. stop that.”

“no, it looked tasty.”

“okay, and so do you. you don’t see me biting you.”

..the fuck?

what the FUCK did he just-

run.

take your laptop, and your phone, and your bag, and get the hell out.

his mind kept chanting that over and over, and he was listening to it, his clammy hands reaching to close his laptop as he got up but then. stopped.

you were laughing. at him. you were laughing at his major fuck-up.

“ne, ne, tomura-kun. i had no idea you were into that.”

yes, yes, he knows. he knows it’s weird and that it’s a weird thing to say to someone who he has a crush on and-

“honestly, the last time i made a joke like that, deku combusted and iida looked constipated.”

“wh-what was the joke?”

“i’ll show you later!”

he choked.

“show me!?”

“you sure sound excited, tomura-kun.”

the grin on your face did nothing to calm the hundred-mile marathon that both his heart and mind had been running ever since he said that.

what was even happening anymore.

that was the question which kept running through his mind even as he walked you home, thanking you for your help.

“no worries! i’d love to spend more time with you.”

what was happening.

“oh and, i also have an assignment due, do you think you could help me with it?”

“yeah, sure. same cafe?”

“sounds good! i’ll see you friday, then!”

“mhm.”

what the fuck was happening.

he’d like to say he didn’t care nor did he think about it, but the way you hugged him goodbye with a promise to see him again left the smallest of smiles on his face which didn’t go away for a while.

tagged ; @t-amajiki @tokyoghoose @kei7ime @inarizsunarin @tsukkiboii @spicyfoodboi @kakiwrites @lcaita @lnarizakis @kuro0luvr @himichii

#shigaraki tomura #➤ gere !!#shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #birthday gifts !

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svtskneecaps · 3 years

Text

crew and cast

(gender neutral) reader x jihoon

genre: fluff + some?? angst? listen i tried lmao; words: 2.8k

well howdy @toxicsocial tis i, your tct secret santa. so uh, i can’t actually make people cry in a timely manner and i didn’t figure most people would be down to read like 9k of buildup, so!! the angst is minimal!!! but i tried really hard and i hope you like it i love you so much also i forgot to title it again until right now so don’t look at it too hard

You loved your high school’s theatre crew. From freshman year they’d been a staple in your life. It was refreshingly stable to be able to walk into the tech room anytime and reliably know what would be going on. Except, there was one thing about theatre you couldn’t stand: Lee Jihoon. You’d avoided him since freshman year, but unfortunately for you, you’d taken over the position of Run Crew Head and Prop Master, and he was the Student Director. You were forced to sit through every production meeting with him.

Which, fine. You’d do anything for the show to run well. But that didn’t change the fact that he made you want to commit a crime.

Or three.

“Great news guys!” you yelled, sweeping into the tech room. “The crutches still aren’t right and Jihoon wants us to repaint the brickwork on the platforms to be less ‘garish’ and the typewriter is from the 1940s when it should be from the 1890s and I’m going to set something on fire!”

Chan slammed his head against the nearest cabinet. “This is the third time he’s rejected the brickwork, oh my god.”

“Fourth time he’s hated the crutches too, and I’ve told him that the only period accurate typewriter in the basement is literally one wrong keystroke from breaking onstage but I guess he’s willing to take that risk for a typewriter that’s going to be in one scene.” You massaged your forehead. “I’m gonna stay late Wednesday so we can have our shit together by Hell Week.”

“I’ll have to join.” Chan peeled his head off the cabinet, cracking his knuckles. “You think Mingyu’s got time to spare? I might get him to help; there’s way too much platform for me to do in time.”

“Dunno, he’s pretty busy.” Vernon scooped a loose screw out of a sawdust pile and swept the whole thing into the dustpan. “Makeup’s been working hard to get the ‘ragged urchin’ look right.”

“I’ll con Soonyoung into it then, I don’t think they’re rehearsing the dance numbers tomorrow so he might be free.”

“I wish you luck with that, dude.” You scooped the crutch off the floor. “I gotta go beg costumes to let me into the basement storage and see if there’s another goddamn piece of fabric I can use for the crutches.”

“You have fun.”

You ended up getting lucky; Minghao already needed to go down there so you wouldn’t have to fight for cell signal to make sure you were allowed to deface the cloth scraps you’d found.

“You seem stressed,” he noted as he unlocked the basement door.

You snorted. “Stressed is an understatement.”

“Jihoon again?”

“If he tells me to redo the damn crutches again I’m going to nail him to the wall.”

Minghao lead the way down the stairs. “I really thought you had it that time.”

“Nothing is good enough for that guy.”

He shrugged. “He just wants the show to go well.”

“Yeah, well, so do I. He doesn’t have to get up everybody’s ass sticking his opinions where they don’t belong. He’s never been crew, why does he get to make us repaint the entire damn set anyway?”

“He’s the director.”

“Everyone else thought the bricks looked fine!”

Minghao looked at you sideways. “What’s your deal with Jihoon?”

“Like I said, poking his nose where it doesn’t--”

“No, you had beef before he got appointed Student Director.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He’s always kind of been a pain even when he was ensemble.” You drove your finger into your temple. “And he broke a crucial prop that wasn’t his the night before the show opened and didn’t tell me.”

“You did props?”

“Buddy I was Prop Master. I literally didn’t find out until the Stage Manager tried to run that scene before school.” You glared absently at the shelves of typewriters to one side of the walkway. “I literally had to skip my last three classes and dinner to get a replacement and he never even apologized for it.”

Minghao whistled. “That’s unforgivable.”

“Tell me about it.” You waded through the costume racks to get to the bins of scraps in the back.

“And you’ve never considered forgiving and forgetting? I mean, it’s been two years.”

You sighed, leaning the crutch against a shelf. “I mean. . .”

He snickered. “Come on, it’s just you and me and the ghosts down here, you can say it.”

“I mean. . . he just makes me so mad!” You yanked the lid off a tote with a snap that echoed across the basement. “Like, every time I start thinking maybe he’s not so bad he pulls some other shit on me and I slam right back into hating his goddamn guts.”

“You’re on the same team,” Minghao called down the row. “You’re just trying to make the show better.”

“Making the show better shouldn’t involve painting the entire set three times.”

“I’m just saying, it’d put at least three years back on your lifespan.”

“Yeah yeah.”

You managed to update the crutches by the end of the day, and repainted the entire set on Wednesday--although you had to sacrifice your lunch and free periods and several hours after school to get it all done. Thursday left you with a finished set and another production meeting.

He didn’t like the bricks.

You saw red.

In the hallway, you pulled him aside.

“What don’t you like about the bricks?”

He frowned. “They detract attention from the actors.”

You wanted to seize him by the shoulders and shake him like a maraca. “It’s gray! It is the darkest most nondescript color we have in the buckets and you’re telling me it detracts attention from the actors? You haven’t even seen them rehearse with it!”

“It’s gonna be too much,” he argued. “It’s the same color as half the costumes--”

“I have seen every single costume in the show, it’s not even close to the same pigment!”

“Even still--”

“Listen,” you snapped, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, “if you want the set redone in time for Hell Week then I expect to see you in the goddamn tech room tomorrow after school wearing something you don’t mind getting paint on because I’m not going to make Chan and Vernon repaint the entire damn set by themselves for the fifth time and I have to figure out how to keep that 1890s typewriter from falling apart, do I make myself clear?”

He looked almost disgusted at the prospect, but he nodded stiffly. “Crystal.”

You turned on your heel just as stiffly, striding away before you lost all composure.

To your complete surprise, Jihoon actually showed up the next day, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a shirt so faded that whatever decal had been on the front had long washed away.

“So he arrives!” Chan yelled from his perch on the desk, where he’d been watching you wrestle with the typewriter.

Jihoon looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he squared his shoulders. “Where do you need me?”

“We gotta move all the set pieces in before we start,” Chan said. “Then I’ll probably have you start on the legs. We gotta wait for Vernon before we can move the tall stuff. One sec, I’ll--” he bolted into the hallway.

Jihoon stared after him, then looked to you. “Where is he going?”

“To tell Vernon we’re actually doing the repaint.” You shrugged. “Honestly I’m surprised you showed up.”

“I said I would.”

“Actually you just said you understood the ultimatum; we had no idea if you’d show or not.”

“Oh.”

You shrugged. “Good to have you anyway.”

Chan returned with Vernon before the silence could get too awkward, and you helped them move all the platforms back into the tech room. From there, Vernon set up his speaker and the real work began.

Jihoon helped choose the color of the bricks (and Chan threatened to really break his leg if he changed his mind about it later), and they got to laying down the base coat. You went back to glaring at the typewriter and reading through every antiques article you could find online.

After trying seven different methods to no avail, you shoved your chair away from the desk. “Typewriters are hellspawn created by the Devil himself to punish unfortunate Prop Masters.”

Vernon snickered. “That good, huh?”

“I’m going to put a screwdriver through the keyboard,” you said mildly.

“Okay maybe don’t do that.” Chan paused to pull a clean paintbrush out of his pocket and throw it at you. “You know where the overalls are; come take a break.”

“Why do you just have that?” Jihoon asked.

“A painter is always prepared.”

Jihoon glanced at you. You shrugged. “I don’t question it.”

Between the four of you, you managed to finish all but one platform by the time Chan and Vernon had to go. Being older, you had infinite time, so you cracked your knuckles and sat back at the typewriter. Jihoon lingered in the doorway.

“You need any help?”

You looked up. “Nah, I think I got it. Thank you, though.”

He shifted. “Listen, I know we didn’t really get off on the right foot but, I’m sorry. I know I never really apologized for the prop, and I’m sorry for how long it took, too.”

You sighed. “It’s fine. It’s kind of unfair of me to hold it against you this long anyway, so, I’m sorry too.” It wasn’t the only reason he made you so angry, but that chip on your shoulder made a lot of other offenses you would have normally overlooked seem larger.

“Can we maybe start over?” he asked. “Freshman year all over again?”

You actually found yourself nodding. “As long as you don’t make us repaint the set ever again.”

He laughed, running a paint-stained hand through his hair. “No, I won’t. I can’t do that to your crew again.”

“Good. Cause we weren’t kidding about breaking your legs.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He hiked up his backpack. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

“Happy Hell Week.”

Hell Week was hell (and the sky is blue).

Three of the actors lost their voices four days before Opening Night. One of the glasses for the restaurant scene shattered during the dance number--even though it was supposed to be offstage already--and the third lead got very close to twisting her ankle after landing a jump wrong. The actors could never manage to find their light, there were technical glitches with the backstage mics, and you were so on edge that if you heard the word standby you’d jump so bad you’d bruise your knee on the table.

The typewriter gave you more anxiety than it was worth. The actress using it had strict instructions not to actually touch the keys, because the only thing holding it together was gaff tape. You’d put Jun and Wonwoo in charge of bringing the desk it sat on onstage, because you trusted them to have it under control and keep it from tipping, because if it tipped at an angle any more than about 30 degrees, the keys would get out of alignment and that required time and experience to fix, of which you had neither.

Needless to say, you were two steps away from tearing your hair out.

At least you weren’t fighting with Jihoon, though. You’d even gone out to grab takeout with him for dinner, once, and yelling about all the problems in the car was really cathartic and you came back refreshed and relaxed, for once (only for every muscle in your back to clench at once because an actor bumped the prop table in their hurry to get in costume and one of the glasses fell over).

But it was Opening Night, and you were wound tighter than a spring waiting for everything to go wrong.

And it did.

Jihoon was in the hallway behind the stage, giving Joshua a few final notes about his big solo, and he didn’t check his surroundings closely enough. In his wild gesturing to demonstrate the level of enthusiasm, his arm clipped the typewriter.

And it fell.

He stared at it. Joshua stared at it. You could not tear your eyes from it.

The keys had tilted out of alignment. The bar holding the paper was skewed. The decorative paneling to one side had cracked down the middle. You didn’t have time to fix it before it went on. Maybe you couldn’t fix it at all.

“I am so sorry--” Jihoon started, but you stopped him with a hand, balling the other into a fist.

“Don’t,” you forced through your teeth, because you didn’t want to start yelling at him; it was an honest mistake and it was your fault for not resettling it on the desk after the last run. You were just seething with rage, at yourself, at the typewriter--you didn’t want to project it.

“Ten minutes to go!” someone yelled down the hall. You forced yourself to exhale, gingerly picking it up, flinching with every shift of the keys.

“Is there anything I can--”

“Get to the booth. Tell Seungcheol what happened, just-- be in your place. Jun!” you yelled into the tech room. His head jerked up. “I need you to take over headset for me, can you do that?”

His mouth fell open seeing the typewriter and he nodded, wordlessly, leaping to his feet and hurrying backstage.

Jihoon still stood there, looking between the typewriter and you with an anguished expression. “You’re sure you don’t--”

“I got it,” you said again, clipped. “I can handle it. I can-- just get to the booth, Jihoon!”

You hadn’t yelled. You knew enough not to yell when the audience was already in their seats. But your words had the same effect, because he flinched, and he nodded, and he turned the other way and ran.

Your rage was turning inward as fast as it was dulling, but you had a show to put on, so you placed the broken typewriter carefully on a counter in the tech room and sprinted for the basement.

You managed to get the 1970s typewriter back upstairs and on the desk before it went on, and the show went on without a hitch. The actors hit their marks, all the props found their way back to the prop table, and the pit orchestra didn’t have to loop a section for a missed cue even once.

You waited until everyone was gone before you let yourself cry.

“I really am sorry.”

You looked up.

Jihoon stood in the doorway, twisting his hands.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s partially my fault for not making sure it was centered right.” You rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, hoping to disguise the redness. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you want help?”

“I don’t know if it can even be fixed,” you said, staring blankly at the remains of the typewriter in front of you. “It might-- it might be beyond my help.”

For a long moment, you stared at it, mind spiralling.

You pushed yourself up. “They’ll want to lock up.” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll just come in before the show and work on it. Maybe get Jun to grab me some McDonald’s or something and eat during the intermission.”

Jihoon’s brow furrowed. “That’s not healthy.”

“I’ve done it before.” You waved him off. “The show must go on, you know?” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The day came by in flashes as you researched the typewriter with a renewed vigor. You could probably use hot glue and some kind of putty to hide the crack in the paneling, you could probably put the keys back or at the very least tape them to look like they were back, from a distance. The bar at the top would be much harder but you hadn’t really inspected it the night before so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it was?

You didn’t feel particularly hopeful when you stopped by the tech room to pick up the typewriter.

Until you saw the typewriter.

“What the fuck.” It was fixed. The keys aligned, the crack sealed, the bar sitting on top just as it was supposed to be. It looked exactly like it had when you’d first set it on that desk.

Jihoon came around the corner, dried putty staining his hands. “Hey,” he said, seeming tired but absolutely beaming at you.

“Did you do this?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t want you putting your health on the line.”

“Oh my god, thank you. I can’t-- this is incredible!” You kept tracing your fingers over the ridge formed by the sealed crack, but you couldn’t see it.

“I did a good job, then?” He put his hands in his pockets, grinning.

“Better than good, oh my god I could kiss you!”

Your cheeks burned when you realized what you’d said, but he laughed. “Whoa, buy me dinner first.”

“Bet,” you said, accepting it like a challenge. “You pick the place, I’ll pay.”

“Okay,” he said, and then lifted his hands. “I gotta wash up.”

“Meet you by the front door in five?”

“It’s a date.”

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