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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

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the type you bring home to mom ~ eddie kaspbrak;it chapter two

word count: 2361

request?: no

description: in which he finally brings his girlfriend home to his over protective mother, and it goes exactly as he thought it would

pairing: teen!eddie kasprak x female!reader

warnings: swearing, overbearing mother, derogatory name calling (i guess?), basically eddie’s mom just sucking

masterlist (one, two)

note: (y/n/p) = your parents’ names

I played with the hem of my dress as I walked up to the Kaspbrak household. I was regretting my choice in wardrobe, but it was too late to change now. I knew nothing would feel right anyways, I had already changed three times before I came over.

For the first time in our year long relationship, I was meeting Eddie’s mother. We had somehow managed to keep our relationship a secret for so long that I never felt like I had to meet her, and Eddie wasn’t exactly pushing for it either. As much as he loved his mom, he also knew she was manipulative and overbearing, and he often told me how he was afraid of his mom scaring me off because of these facts.

When the news eventually got out and travelled quickly through the small town of Derry, as gossip usually does, it got to Ms. Kaspbrak in no time. She immediately demanded to meet me, and Eddie set up a dinner at his house for the occasion.

Before I could even knock on the door, it swung open to reveal my tall boyfriend smiling down at me. Any tension I had melted away as I looked up at him, into those beautiful eyes that could calm me down whenever they were on me. He took my face in his hands and pulled me to kiss him. It was such a normal action that, at first, I leaned into it happily, until I realized the circumstances of my visit and quickly pushed him away.

“She’s not here,” he said, as if reading my worried thoughts. “She’s gone out to get some stuff for dinner.”

He stepped aside to let me step into the house. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory; Eddie and I had had many rendezvous there during the rare moments when his mom wasn’t home, but it felt wrong to be there on this occasion. I just wanted it to end already, and to go home or go for a long drive with Eddie.

“Come, sit,” he said, leading me to his living room. We sat close to one another on the couch, so close that we were just barley touching. Feeling his arm brush against mine sent sparks through me.

“How worried should I be?” I asked him, trying to remain as light as possible.

He sighed and shuffled in his seat. “I wish I could tell you not at all, but...”

He trailed off so I finished his sentence for him, “But it’s your mom.”

Eddie nodded. “But it’s my mom.”

One of his arms was around my waist. I hadn’t realized that the skirt of my dress had hiked up a little until the hand around my waist started to play with the hem, his fingertips brushing against my ass. His other hand touched my leg, starting lightly on my knee and then slowly travelling up my thigh till it stopped on my inner thigh. I shivered, wanting him to go further.

Most people who knew him would never believe that Eddie Kaspbrak, the hypochondriac, fast talking, former sheltered mama’s boy, would be absolutely mind blowing in bed, and constantly handsy whenever we were alone. I hadn’t even believed it until we got together, but man, Eddie knew how to make me feel absolutely amazing.

He leaned forward to kiss my neck, his fingers tracing circles in my inner thigh. I was shivering with anticipation and whimpers were escaping my lips. I could feel Eddie’s amused smirk against my neck as he placed another kiss there and lifted his head to look at me. He kissed my lips and his hand finally made its way further up my skirt.

Our moment was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming. I practically jumped to the other side of the couch, touching my neck in hopes that he hadn’t accidentally left hickies there.

“You’re good,” he said, understanding what I had been doing.

The front door opened and I suddenly felt paralyzed. I wasn’t sure if I should stand up or stay sat down, if I should move even further away from Eddie or stay exactly where I was. In the end, I stayed frozen like a deer in headlights as his mom rounded the corner, arms full of grocery bags.

“Oh,” she said when her eyes landed on me. “Is this...her?”

There was a slight leer to the way she said “her”, which made me want to squirm under her intense gaze.

“Mom,” Eddie said, a partial warning tone in his voice, “this is (Y/N), my girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Kaspbrak,” I said. “Do you, um, need any help with - ”

“No,” she cut me off. “I have it. You’re early.”

“I told her this is when to get here,” Eddie defended. “You wouldn’t tell me exactly when to invite her over.”

“Well, this is hardly dinner time,” his mother huffed. “It’ll take me a while to get dinner ready.”

“I can help,” I offered again.

“No,” she said, sharply, which told me that was the end of the matter.

I shrunk down in my spot on the couch.

“Mom,” Eddie snapped again.

She glared at me before turning to her son, trying to soften her expression for him. “I’ll let you know when the food is ready. For now...stay here.”

When she disappeared into the kitchen, Eddie immediately moved to sit next to me and took my hand in his.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I’ll get through it. It’s just dinner then we’re done, right?”

He nodded, but I could see the worry on his face still.

A while later, Ms. Kaspbrak called to tell us dinner was ready. She had made sure to place everything so that Eddie and I were sat at the heads of the table, far apart from one another, while she was sat between us. Eddie and I shared a look before sitting in our designated spots.

Dinner started with awkward silence besides our cutlery against the plates. I tried to keep my attention on my plate, but every so often I’d glance up at the Kaspbraks to see Eddie nervously glancing between me and his mother, and his mom just glaring daggers at me. The nervousness I was feeling took away my appetite, but I felt like I had to eat everything to make a good impression, if that was even possible.

“So,” Ms. Kaspbrak said, drawing our attention to her, “(Y/N). Your parents are (Y/P/N), right?”

She already knew the answer to this question. I had grown up in Derry, where everyone knew everyone. There was a reason she was asking, and I had a feeling I already knew what that reason was.

“They are, yeah,” I responded.

“And they’re divorced, aren’t they?”

“Mom!” Eddie groaned.

“It’s just a question, Eddie,” his mom said.

“It’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t mind talking about it. That’s kind of old news anyways. They divorced when I was 10, dad moved to the next town over and mom got full custody of me.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very stable upbringing,” Ms. Kaspbrak commented. “I’m sure it’s taken such a toll on you, you must’ve decided to rebel somehow.”

Eddie put his face in his hands, officially admitting defeat on trying to stop his mother.

“Actually it wasn’t anything like that,” I said. “Mom and dad stayed pretty civil. There wasn’t any big fight or anything, just an agreement that they’re better off not being married. When dad moved he made sure to stay in constant contact, and comes to visit all the time or I’d go to visit him. Mom always made sure I had a roof over my head and food on the table. They both love me unconditionally, even if they’re not together.”

Ms. Kaspbrak sat back in her seat, a sour look on her face. “Well...regardless, it’s just not right to be raised by a single mother.”

Feeling a bit brave, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Eddie was raised by a single mother.”

“That’s different. My husband died, he didn’t decide to abandon me and Eddie.”

“My dad didn’t abandon us, he’s still very much a part of our lives.”

She ignored me and continued to eat. I looked across the table at Eddie to see him avoiding all eye contact with either of us as he pushed his food around on his plate. As if feeling my gaze, he looked up at me. I gave him a small smile to try and indicate that I wasn’t upset with him. I wanted him to know everything was going to be okay, even if I didn’t fully believe it myself.

“How many boys have you had sex with, (Y/N)?”

The question caught me off guard and I nearly choked on the food I had just put in my mouth.

“Jesus Christ, mom!” Eddie snapped.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein, Edward,” his mother chastised him.

“You can’t just ask something like that, mom, that’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business. I need to make sure my son isn’t dating a slut. I remember you were friends with Beverly March before she moved away, and trust me, I heard all sorts of stories about her. Anyone who would hang around with her must be somewhat similar.”

The mention of the untrue bullshit that used to be spread about Bev made the anger within me bubble over. I was seeing red as I looked up at Ms. Kaspbrak, and I was ready to pounce.

“Actually, your son took my virginity, and I took his,” I told her. “And we have sex quite a lot, sometimes upstairs in his bedroom when you’re not home. Although, for someone who says he was a virgin I don’t know how much I believe it. Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do.”

If he was upset with me for saying all of this, Eddie’s face didn’t show it. He was sipping on his water, trying to hide the smug smile that broke out across his face.

Ms. Kaspbrak’s face turned blood red before she rose from the table. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Gladly,” I said, abandoning my dinner to quickly leave the shitty situation.

“And don’t you dare come anywhere near my son again, or else I will have the cops on you!” she threatened.

I stopped and turned back to face her. “For what? For dating your son? For showing him that there’s someone who actually cares about him without manipulating him? For finally cutting the cord that you’ve had wrapped around his neck since he was born? Ms. Kaspbrak, I understand that you’re afraid to lose your son the way you lost your husband, but being a manipulative bitch who forced him to think he had illnesses he didn’t have for years and insulting his girlfriend in front of him is not the way to keep him around. Eddie is 18 years old, he’s an adult. He can do whatever he wants, which includes dating whoever he wants and leaving this hell hole that you have the audacity to call a home. The day that you finally accept that just might be the day that Eddie finally considers you to be an actual mother.”

And with that, I decided not to overstay my welcome and left.

I was only a few feet away from Eddie’s house when I heard him calling after me. I slowed my pace just enough that he could catch up with me, but didn’t completely stop. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Kaspbrak house as I could.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed as he fell in step next to me.

“For what?” Eddie asked. “I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“You warned me on how she would be, and I still let her get to me,” I said. “I probably made having to live there a whole lot harder.”

“It was hard to begin with, (Y/N). Nothing could make it harder than what it was,” he told me. “What you said, it was all true. Mom needed to hear that. Doesn’t mean she liked hearing it, or that she’ll actually accept it, but she needed to hear it none the less.”

“I guess I could’ve said it nicer,” I said. “Or at least not included details of our sex life.”

Eddie awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, could’ve done without mom knowing I’m a sex god.”

I gave him a look and playfully nudged him. “I never said you were a sex god.”

“Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do I believe were your exact words.”

“I only said that to make her more upset.”

“So you’re saying I’m bad at sex?”

I pushed him again. “Eddie!”

He laughed and put an arm around my waist. “I appreciate the compliment either way. And I hope you know how much I love you.”

I smiled up at him and leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

We walked in silence for a while and, before I knew it, we were at my house. We stopped and turned to face each other.

“Want to stay over tonight?” I asked. “I figure going home isn’t exactly the best option right now.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “Will your mom be okay with it?”

“Of course she will, she loves you. She’ll probably even cover for you if your mom calls.”

“I take it back, I don’t love you. I love your mom.”

“And I take back my offer. Go sleep on the streets.”

I took off for my front door with Eddie hot on my trail. I tried to open it and lock him out before he caught up to me, but of course his long legs gave him an advantage. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me away from the door, both of our laughs ringing out through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

#eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie kaspbrak x reader #james ransone #james ransone imagine #james ransone x reader #teen!eddie kaspbrak #it chapter two #imagine #one shot #requests #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 4 years ago

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The Thrilling Saga of Connie paying real life money for the Worst Sonic TV Show

Let’s begin with the simple fact that me and my sister, @birdsareblooming “Cori”, have both been hyperfixating on Sonic the Hedgehog since last March. During this hyperfixation, I was on Sonic Wiki to copy-paste song lyrics onto my stolen mp3s, and I called my sister in and pointed at the template at the bottom.

“What is this Sonic Underground thing?” I asked. “It has one shit billion songs.”

So we clicked on the page to read about it, and each sentence we read was a punch in the gut and this quickly became the funniest thing we’d ever read. Highlights include:

It looks like this:

“Sonic[...] is known to be a prince”

Sonic has two siblings who actually have good characterization but their names are literally just Sonia and Manic. Like. Sonic split into two names. jesus christ

Also Sonic and his siblings all share a voice actor. honestly Jaleel White does his best with it but

“The three siblings possess enchanted medallions that transform not only into musical instruments, but also into weapons.”

“Some fans consider Sonia to be a clone of Amy Rose, minus the attraction Amy feels for Sonic.” YEAH I SURE HOPE IT DOES

“Manic is the most often captured of the siblings” himbo king

Knuckles shows up, and for the first, like, two sentences his description is very similar to the game, and then you get immediately pulverized by “He has a pet Dinosaur called Chomps.”

Literally so many sentences on Sonic Wiki are lowkey salty about this show. The page features lines such as “Sonic Underground bears little relation to the often complex Sonic universe (including previous animated series, as well as Sonic comics and games), and shares only three established characters” and “many of the characters in the Freedom Fighter group that were in Sonic the Hedgehog are completely left out (including Tails).”

“The show met with mostly negative reviews.”

*checks air dates* It only lasted two goddamn months

So after seeing this we thought it was the funniest thing and we showed our older sister, @patema-introverted “North.” To our surprise, our at the time “knew nothing about this sonic bullshit” sister recognized the show. Turns out she’d seen trailers for it as a child and that was her sole exposure to Sonic canon.

We were in quarantine at the time, so we ended up finding it on YouTube and binge-watching it all together as a sibling bonding activity. It was just as hilarious as we thought it would be- some stuff was legitimately good, like the sibling dialogue for instance, but good lord were the character designs ugly, the plot all over the place, and pretty much every song, um, not great. Also there was one episode that we skipped because it got, um, I think “stereotypical” is the nicest word I can use here.

But the point is, we had a jolly good time watching it, and afterwards we binged all the other Sonic shows and bonded as a family.

After quarantine, North and I go back to college. My roommate gets groceries at Walmart, while I get them elsewhere, so while she and North collect food I wander the DVD aisle to look at the cool movies and also dumpster-dive in the bargain bin for Cats (2019). I am also short as fuck, so the top shelf of movies I cannot see, I can only read the labels.

So one day I was browsing the DVDs, and glancing over at the labels for the top shelf. I read over the final one before the shelves end.

And then I stop, do a double take, and have a heart attack, because there is a label that reads “SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74″

I immediately climb the shelf but there aren’t any DVDs atop the shelf. However, the label is still there. I excitedly tell my sister and roommates, freak out with them a bit, and then give myself a mission statement:

I will buy the $4 Sonic Underground DVD from Walmart

I did not want it as a gift, I did not want to find it online. I wanted to walk into a store, pick up the Worst Sonic Show on DVD, walk it straight to the checkout, and in front of the cashier and God, pay for it with my own money. I did not care if it was the whole series or two episodes; I needed to do this for my own serotonin.

We would go to Walmart about once a week. Every time, I would go to the DVD aisle, and go right to the end of the shelves. I would stare at the label SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74 and empty space above it and wonder who the fuck was buying this other than me. I would occasionally ask employees if they had any copies in storage. I would build a shrine to Manic in my room. Okay, no I didn’t, but only because my RA would have murdered me.

Christmas break comes, and we have to go home. We have a nice Christmas, and Cori and I infodump at each other about how we would make Sonic Underground a good show (note: we’re both galaxy braining) and also play Bendy and the Ink Machine. Fun times.

When we finally get back to College, it’s late January- long story short we have a very long winter break. My roommate who gets food at Walmart got food without us the first week cause she showed up first, so we take her out to Walmart the first time in the year of our lord 2021 on January 29.

I wander the Valentine’s aisle, immediately grabbing a sequin puppy. I go to the DVDs and see Animaniacs Season One, also grab that.

And then.

There it is.

The Holy Grail.

Above the label SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74, is one DVD left.

Already I am losing my mind. It’s roughly seven hours of episodes- I couldn’t find an episode list, but I think that’s half the show, for $4! And the cover is amazing.

That’s a png of Sonic from Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) with a medallion badly photoshopped over it. The medallion is too small.

Manic is shoved into the corner. He doesn’t have his medallion at all.

Sonia isn’t even pictured on the front cover, probably because they realized she was the worst designed of the bunch. I’m not ragging on her though, because she’s still one of the better designed characters of the show. Those background characters make me cry

So you bet your ass I finally paid my hard-earned $4 for this shit. Upon getting home, I discovered that there was even wilder shit with this DVD than I thought.

For starters: the bonus features listed are as follows:

Original Concept Art - did not expect that these character designs were the final draft

Storyboard-to-screen - did not expect they bothered to storyboard this

Music Video Jukebox - that’s cute, they thought we liked the music

Interviews with original screenwriter & executive producer - I fully expect the only questions to be “why.”

On the left of this list are screenshots from the show, where people can finally see Sonia, who we Know™ is a girl because she is pink and has hair and also an actual body shape instead of just circles like her brothers.

But wait... what’s that in the lefthand corner?

That looks like some kind of robot. But it’s not a robot from Sonic Underground! That didn’t appear once. Why is it here?

The mystery continues upon opening the DVD case: inside are advertisements for other collections, including other Sonic DVDs: two volumes of Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) and the final episodes of Sonic the Hedgehog “SatAM” (1993)

First of all, the first volume of AOSTH has the exact same PNG of Sonic as the Underground Volume 1. Not even trying to hide it. But second... the second volume of AOSTH also has this robot on its cover.

And THIS ROBOT IS ALSO DECORATING THE THIRD DISC IN THE SET?

So you may be asking, who is this robot? Is it from AOSTH or Underground?

IT’S FROM FUCKING SATAM. The one show that doesn’t have it decorating the DVD covers.

Also, not only is it from SatAM, it only appears in one fucking episode. Not a major character! AND IT HAS A DIFFERENT DESIGN ON THE PROMO ART, WITH HAIR AND FANGS.

Why is it showing up everywhere? What is going on?

I have not yet had the opportunity to watch this glorious piece of animation, but I am so glad at the confusion I have felt upon receiving it.

But before I go, I must share with you the best part of this DVD purchase. And it was flipping to the back, scanning the details, and discovering the exact runtime of the episode collection.

Guys, gals, and enby pals, friends and enemies, Nintendo and Sega, the first Volume of Sonic Underground has a runtime of...

420 MINUTES.

Maybe I’m wrong and this IS the best Sonic show.

#sonic underground #sonic the hedgehog #sonic 2020 #walmart #mine #connie writes #story time with tumblr

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hxwks-gf · 4 years ago

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*✧･ﾟ:* two little lines

bakugo x fem!reader

summary: surprise! you’re pregnant. wait, that’s not the only surprise...

warnings: pregnancy, descriptions of throwing up, swearing, mentions of alcohol

w/c: 2k

request: I just read your Bakugou gets turned into a kid fic and it was so adorable, especially since he done well knew what he was doing( the brat lol) Anyhow I wanted to request either Bakugou( pro hero of course) reacting to the news that he and his female S/O are having either twins or triplets.

a/n: THANK U FOR SENDING THIS REQUEST IN, ANON!! i loved writing it so much, and soft bakugo is my fav bakugo. enjoy my loves!

“Katsuki, I really don’t feel well,” you said as you came out of the bathroom, wiping the sweat off of your forehead.

Your husband looked up from the piece of his gear he was tinkering with. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve felt really sick to my stomach for a day or two now,” you explained, sitting at the edge of the bed and closing your eyes. You could feel another wave of nausea coming over you at full speed. “Oh, God--” You clapped a hand over your mouth and ran straight to the toilet again, making it just in time before you violently puked the last remains of your breakfast into the porcelain.

“Y/N?” he called from the bedroom. A few seconds later and you heard his bare footsteps on the tile floor. His warm hand placed itself on your forehead and pushed back your sweaty hair. “Hey, let’s get you to the doctor, alright?”

“No,” you moaned into the bowl, “I don’t want to go to the doctor yet, it’s just the stomach flu or something. I just need to rest.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Bakugo growled, squatting beside you. He wrinkled his nose at the contents of the toilet. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll make an appointment tomorrow,” you said, cracking open your teary eyes at him. He had that hard-set look on his face, the don’t-even-try-to-argue-with-me one. You had seen it enough over the last few years of your marriage. “Can you just take me to the store so I can get some medicine?”

“Tch,” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of this apartment in this state.”

“Katsuki.”

He tipped his head back and let loose an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

You held out a hand and he helped you to your feet. He muttered incoherently while you got dressed, something along the lines of “--doesn’t know how to rest--” and “--never listens to me--”. After you were dressed, he at least made you drink some water before driving you to the nearby corner store.

The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes as you perused the aisles with a basket in hand, mindlessly putting cans of soup, stomach medicine, and orange juice into it. Bakugo grumbled to himself a few feet behind you, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“I’ll be right back,” he grunted, and disappeared down the snack aisle, leaving you by yourself near the pharmacy.

As you wandered down the rows and rows of medicine, looking for anything else you might need for the stomach flu, you saw something on display near the counter that made you stop and stare.

“There’s no way,” you murmured, walking up to them and picking one up. You flipped the thin box in your hand and scanned the back for more information. When was the last time you had your period? On a hunch, you dropped the box into your basket and hurried towards the check-out before Bakugo caught up with you again.

The cashier rang you up and bagged your items, and you felt another wave of nausea starting to build in the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, Bakugo rounded the corner empty-handed, and headed straight for you.

“Got everything you need?” he said, guiding you out of the store.

“Mhmm,” you absentmindedly hummed, trying not to think about the little box at the bottom of your bag.

The drive back to the apartment was silent, as was the walk up. Bakugo offered to take your bags but you vehemently denied his help, giving him a string of excuses and making a beeline for the bathroom again.

You locked the door and leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were in a seated position with your knees brought up to your chest. You were scared. The plastic bag was staring at you on the floor, just waiting to be opened. With a trembling sigh, you pulled out the little thin box and opened the pregnancy test.

Two lines. That meant pregnant, right?

You couldn’t tell how long you spent staring at the little stick in your hands, or how many times you had read and re-read the little instruction booklet.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

You licked your lips in anticipation and unlocked the bathroom door. You could hear Bakugo tinkering with his hero gear in the bedroom again.

“You were in there for a while, are you okay--” His sentence was cut short when he looked up at you standing in the doorway, holding the stick in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Katsuki, I’m pregnant.”

The screwdriver he held in his hands fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor. Within seconds he was getting up from the bed and gathering you in his arms, his chin tucking itself in the crook of your neck.

“K-Katsuki?” you said, utterly surprised.

“Are you being serious?” he said, voice muffled in your shoulder.

“Of course I’m being serious.” You gently pulled out of his embrace, but he still kept you close. “Look. Two lines.”

He looked down at the test in your hand. His own fingers reached up and wrapped themselves around it, his brows coming together in the center of his forehead. He stared at it so intensely without saying a word, you were concerned he had lost some screws.

“Katsuki?” you said again, gently. “What...what are you feeling?”

“I know I've never been good with talking about my emotions,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “But this--this makes me feel like the happiest fucker in the entire world.”

With those words, the gate that held your own emotions in check completely shattered and you fell into a mess of happy sobs, excited laughs, and exhilarated kisses. You’re not sure when it happened, but the two of you ended up kneeling together on the floor, still holding onto the test like your lives depended on it, crying and laughing and kissing. The only other time you had ever seen Bakugo cry was the first time he saw you walk down the aisle at your wedding.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “I really can’t.”

“Pregnant,” you breathed, still in awe. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Listen to me.” Bakugo let go of your hands and cradled your cheeks, looking directly into your eyes. “I love you. You are not going to lift a finger for the next nine months, do you understand me, woman?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Doctor’s office. Tomorrow morning.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re about six weeks along,” the obstetrician explained, pulling on a pair of clean gloves. “Let’s get the ultrasound going so you guys can hear the heartbeat.”

You squeezed Bakugo’s hand excitedly. He sat beside you, watching the doctor’s every single movement like a hawk. She had you lean back and lift up your shirt to expose the little baby bump that was already starting to show.

“Alright,” she said, pushing the scanner over your lubricated belly and watching the fuzzy screen intently. You had no idea what she was looking at, it just looked like big blotches of black and white moving around. “Oh--there we are!”

This time, it was Bakugo that squeezed your hand with excitement. You looked over at him, seeing how focused he was on the little screen.

“Oh, what have we here?”

You whipped your head back to the doctor. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Looks like you’ve got two buns in your oven,” the obstetrician said, pointing to the screen. “See that? Two heartbeats.”

“T-twins?” you gasped, feeling Bakugo’s hand go limp in your grasp. “We’re having twins?”

“Congrats, Mom and Dad,” she said with a grin, clicking off the scanner and cleaning the jelly off of your stomach. “Twins are much more common than you think.” She stood up and stripped off her gloves. “I’ll be right back with some paperwork for the pharmacy and give you two a moment in private.”

As the door closed behind her, you looked at Bakugo. He was still staring at the little ultrasound still visible on the screen, his mouth slack and his eyes wide.

“Honey?” you said, tilting your head. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Twins,” he whispered in awe.

Your face broke into a smile and you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Twins.”

“So, what’s the special occasion?” Kirishima asked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Get your feet off of there,” Bakugo snapped, swatting his friend’s feet. “Christ.”

You chuckled, handing Kaminari and Sero each a beer. “It’s something we’ve been waiting to share with you guys for a couple weeks now.”

“Are you not going to have a drink with us, Y/N?” Mina asked from the couch, holding up her glass of wine.

Bakugo moved to stand beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. It was rare for him to be this affectionate in front of the rest of the group, but you knew he was too excited. They all looked at the two of you with confused and concerned expressions on their faces, waiting for whatever piece of news you had to share.

Mina was quick. “Holy shit, you’re joking!” she squealed before you could say anything, kicking her feet excitedly.

“What are you talking about?” Kirishima said, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “Joking about what--” You could literally see the lightbulb turn on above his head. “Oh, oh! Oh my God, guys! Are you serious?”

“Yep,” you laughed, patting your belly. Bakugo pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear.

“Wait, wait,” Kaminari said, holding up his hands. “I’m lost. What’s going on?”

“C’mon, dude,” Bakugo growled.

Sero’s eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of his skull. “Congratulations, you two! I was wondering when it was going to happen. I almost had a bet going for it.”

“A bet for what?” Kaminari whined.

“Denki,” you said, giving your stomach another exaggerated pat.

“Stomach?”

“Yes,” you encouraged, nodding your head slowly. “And…?

“And...oh, holy shit!”

“There he goes,” Kirishima laughed, patting his friend on the back. He looked back to you and Bakugo with a grin on his face. “That’s amazing. How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?”

“Well,” you started, smiling at Bakugo over your shoulder. “That’s not all of it, exactly.”

Now they were back in the dark again, Mina included. You took a deep breath and felt Bakugo’s arms tighten around you. “We’re having twins.”

“Twins!” Mina screeched, jumping up out of her seat and clobbering you in an excited hug.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Bakugo warned, hostility lacing his words. “Be careful with the mother of my children, alright?”

A surge of warmth spread through you, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Mother of his children. It had a very nice ring to it, and hearing it from his lips only made it that much sweeter. You reached around and tenderly kissed his cheek.

“Whatever you guys need, please let us know,” Kirishima said as he stood up and clapped a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “I mean it. Whatever you need. We’re all here for you.”

“Thank you, guys,” you said, unable to hide the crack in your voice as a lump formed in your throat. Tears came not a second later. “I’m sorry, everything makes me cry nowadays.”

“I don’t envy you there, Bakugo,” Kaminari said with a grin. “But I second what Kirishima said.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking about possible baby names, planning the eventual baby shower, and anything else under the sun that had to do with babies. As you sat on the couch, nestled into Bakugo’s side and casually running a hand over your growing belly, surrounded by friends and loved ones, you knew that no matter what happened, you and Bakugo would be alright.

You had to admite, the idea of having two little miniature Katsukis running around delighted you in a way that would most definitely frighten anyone else.

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFHJKDHFKSDHFKS #MY HEARTTTTT #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo imagine #bakugo fanfic #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo fluff

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thisaccisdead · 4 years ago

Text

montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly�� fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

#lucy.fic #romangst #roman sanders angst #roman hurt/comfort #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #everyone ik reading the title of this fic: ohhh my god we know u like penelope scott we know #‘we know u associate this song w roman we KNOW</3’#roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #also standard statement that im not a writer i just write sometimes pls do not. judge thishehusgs

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

Text

Physical Fatality Part 9- Cruelty

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for alcoholism

Masterlist

“No Hawks.”

“Why won’t you at least let me explain?”

“Because I suspect your explanation for why you ripped my heart out despite, supposedly, still being in love with me is going to piss me the fuck off and we have a red carpet to walk in a few minutes.”

“You always have an excuse for why we can’t talk. We never see each other at work anymore-“

“Hmm, I wonder why? It’s almost like someone’s bullshit got me kicked off the task force.”

“Not my point. I would talk to you at your place but your roommate stops me every time!”

“I always did like Mina.”

“Jesus you’re fucking impossible. I just want to make things right!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have fucked them up in the first place.”

“I can’t change the past.”

“And I can’t deal with my feelings for you on top of trying to salvage my fucking career.”

“So you admit there are still feelings?”

“How is that your takeaway from that sentence?”

It’s been about three days since the article about you and Hawks dropped. You are about four minutes from a heart attack and you think Hawks may be a maniac but he doesn’t know it. Your ride to another bullshit HPSC event stops and your door is opened to reveal a red carpet and a hoard of paparazzi awaiting your arrival. You and Hawks had just been fighting in your limousine but they don’t know. They can never know. So Hawks steps out and carefully smooths out his designer suit before reaching a hand down to help you out of the car. You take his hand and gracefully step out in your equally designer shoes and dress. You smile at each other as if your love is pure and uncomplicated. You smile at the paparazzi as if they aren’t the bane of your existence. You smile as you make your way into the event as if you aren’t literally dreading it. It honestly makes you feel nauseous. But this is the reality of modern day hero work. It’s as much about image and politics as it is about saving people, no matter how ridiculous you think that is.

You wish Bakugo and Midoriya were here so you’d at least have some uncomplicated friendly faces but they’re probably off doing actual hero work. You get the honor of shaking the hands of wealthy donors to the HPSC and interacting with heroes you’d probably recognize if you hadn’t been black out drunk at the last ranking ceremony. “I’ll grab us drinks,” Hawks sighs in a rare break the two of you have between meeting people. “I think that’s the first smart thing you’ve said all night,” you reply. He resists the temptation to roll his eyes as he tells you he’ll be right back and walks towards the bar. He isn’t gone long before you hear a deep voice behind you say, “I heard you were removed from the task force.” It takes everything in you not to launch Endeavor through the window as you turn to face him. “Unfortunately yes. All Might felt it was unwise for me to be on a task force with someone I was romantically involved with,” you reply as professionally as possible considering you’re still trying to figure out if the satisfaction of yeeting this prick out the window would be worth getting fired. “So I guess your little plan backfired on you then,” Endeavor says smugly. “My little plan?” “Your plan to use Hawks to climb the hero charts and gain insight into my agency.” You stare at the man in front of you and blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry can you just say that one more time?” you ask dumbfounded. This throws Endeavor off for a moment but then he clears his throat and repeats, “Your plan to use Hawks to-“ “Ok yea no that’s what I thought you said,” you say cutting him off. “I know this may be hard for you to hear but uhm, not everything is about you,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I am aware but-“ “No, no. Shut the fuck up, no but’s. There was no plan. I was just dumb enough to fall in love with your stupid ass Golden boy. Some of us are actually content just saving people regardless of some dumb, arbitrary ranking.” “Oh.” A pause. “What the fuck do you mean oh?” “I don’t owe you an explanation and you should watch how you talk to me.” “No one is paying attention to us right now, I’m not watching shit.” “Regardless you risk causing a scene.” “Oh my god, did you share your little theory with Hawks?” you press, and the sheepish look on his face is answer enough but then Hawks returns to your side, two drinks in hand, looking between you and Endeavor curiously. “Am I interrupting something?” Hawks asks with a raised eyebrow. “Babe could we talk privately for a moment?” you ask with a saccharine tone. “Uhh, sure,” Hawks replies. Next thing he knows you’re tugging him away from Endeavor and out of the banquet hall.

It pains him to realize how like and unlike this is to the first time the two of you met. The sly look Kamui Woods gives him as the two of you pass by makes him a little nauseous in all honesty. Probably because if he hadn’t fucked up so royally then maybe the two of you would be sneaking away for the reason the other man thinks right now. Instead he’s sure he’s about to get an earful because of whatever Endeavor had said to you. Eventually you tug him into a supply closet, using your quirk to find and flick on the light switch before closing the two of you into the tight space. He realizes it’s the first time you’ve been this close to him without a camera or another person nearby. “Hawks,” you start and and it hurts. It hurts every time you use his hero name when the two of you are alone. He misses the way his real name sounded on your tongue. He misses the fondness you used to have in your tone when you used it. He misses the way you’d sometimes shorten it to ‘Kei’. He misses it so much so that without thinking he interrupts you to say “Don’t call me that when we’re alone.” You ignore the interruption and that hurts too. “Did you break up with me because Endeavor told you I was just using you?” you ask him and all the air rushes out of his lungs. Finally you knew what he’d been trying to tell you for the past few days since everything went to shit. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I never stopped loving you (y/n) but I got scared and I’m so sorry. I never should have listened to him,” Hawks sighs and it feels like a weight off to finally tell you. “So it wasn’t that you didn’t love me,” you start and Hawks feels his broken heart starting to put itself back together, “it was just that you didn’t love me enough to have faith in me.”

Wait, what?

No. No, no, no this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Everything was supposed to get better once you found out the truth behind the break up. So why, then, do you look so distraught? “No, baby, no that’s not it,” he tries to assure you but you shake your head. “Isn’t it? You love me but not enough to hear out my side of the story before you dumped me. You love me but not enough to ignore the words of a man I’ve never had a full conversation with prior to today,” you point out. “I was just scared. He threatened my career and I just-“ “Just what? Hawks I can count on one hand the number of people who have genuinely had faith in me. That makes it really important to me. I thought I could count you as one of them.” “Hey, that’s not fair. I have faith in you but if you were in my shoes you would’ve made the same decision.” “And what shoes were those exactly?” “The shoes of someone hearing a man they’ve known and trusted for years tell them all the reasons why they’re an idiot to trust the woman they just met a few months prior.” “I didn’t realize I gave so many reasons for you not to trust me.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it. As dumb as I think the rivalry is it’s no secret that the lower ranks in both our agencies still believe in it and up until a year ago that was you.” “You could’ve asked.” “Maybe so but he also pointed out that there’s no way you couldn’t have fucking known who I was considering I’m the only hero with bright red fucking wings on my back,” Hawks grits out and as if on cue his wings are flaring and puffing up in the small space as if to emphasize his point. “Oh....” you trail off.

You have to admit he has a point on the last one. Sure, he could’ve asked. But Hawks never knew how problematic your drinking habits could be. Once the two of you got together you started getting sober so you hadn’t seen a reason to mention it. If he had asked you directly you don’t know that you would’ve been able to tell him the truth and that would’ve seemed to confirm Endeavor’s theory. “Yea, ‘oh’,” Hawks says and you almost wish you could hear more resentment in his tone instead of resignation because you are still so, so angry with him but you’re starting to see his side now and you hate it. At least if he resented you there wouldn’t be as much guilt for the blind rage you’d channeled his way. “That’s the one piece I still can’t make fit to be honest. Why’d you pretend not to recognize me?” he asks and if you didn’t still love him you’d probably give a half assed lie and be done with it. But you do, and he sounds so fucking heartbroken that you decide he at least deserves the truth. “I never gave a shit about the hero rankings. Who cares if you’re number 1 or number 50 as long as you’re saving people, y’know? So I never watched the ranking ceremony on tv and the one year I went in person I got black out drunk beforehand because Monoma was finally in the top 10 and he was being absolutely unbearable and I knew he’d continue to be for the rest of the night. So I drank and now I don’t remember any of it. I literally don’t know what any hero I haven’t directly worked with looks like. I know the names but couldn’t match them to faces for the life of me. Even with your ‘bright red fucking wings’. Bakugo actually gave me shit for it when I realized who you are,” you explain. “Would you have told me all that if I had asked you then?” he asks. “Probably not,” you admit. The kiss afterwards is unexpected but not unwelcome.

Hawks doesn’t consciously decide to kiss you. It’s just one moment you’re admitting you may not have been able to dispel his concerns and the next he’s reaching for you. He doesn’t regret it though. The moment your lips touch it’s like a missing piece of him has slotted back into place. It quickly grows heated and his hands find their way to your waist to reel you in closer and closer until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. He’s missed this so much it’s been a physical ache and he pours every bit of that pain and regret and heartache and love and hope, such agonizingly desperate hope, into the kiss, praying it will convey even a fraction of what he’s been feeling the past few days. Praying that maybe he can reach you and the two of you can go back to the bliss you enjoyed before he let Endeavor get in his head and ruin things. But then he feels wetness on his cheeks and when he pulls back to look at you he realizes you’re crying. “Why are you crying Love?” he asks as he reaches both hands up to cup your face and wipe the tears away. “Because if you feel even a fraction of what I feel when I kiss you, I don’t know how you could ever think it was fake,” you confess and it shatters his heart all over again. “(Y/n), I-“ “I wanna go home.” “Ok, I’ll fly us back to mine and we can-“ “No Hawks. My home. My apartment. I need... I need time.” “Ok.”

The two of you sneak out of the event. The tabloids will likely be flooded with headlines about how you and Hawks are so madly in love you had to sneak away for a supply closet tryst only to realize that wasn’t enough and decide to just bail on the event entirely. They’ll be wrong, of course, but it’s better they run that than the truth. Neither you nor Hawks says a word as he flies you to your apartment. Only once you’re standing in your open doorway does Hawks pipe up. “I have to leave tomorrow for a mission,” he says. “Task force?” you ask, although you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. “Yea. Task force,” he confirms. “Oh.” “Yea.” “Ok. How long will you be gone?” “I don’t know but at least a week.” “So I get a week’s break from the circus,” you say and part of you knows it’s a cruel thing to say, but another part of you says it’s only cruel if he actually cares for you as much as he claims to. “Yea, I guess so,” he says and he sounds so goddamn sad. You’re hurting him. You’re hurting him and you wish you could make yourself stop but you can’t. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sigh and then you close the door before he can respond. He stands staring at the closed door for a long while. You can tell by the shadow underneath the door. Eventually though he sighs and you hear him walk away with heavy, defeated steps.

Which is crueler: Him hurting you unintentionally because he never gave you the chance to explain? Or you intentionally breaking his heart the way he broke yours? You suspect you won’t like the answer so you go to the kitchen to grab a drink and try and forget you even posed the question in the first place.

You told Hawks his time away would be a break. In actuality it was agony. You went to work and then you went home. Bakugo and Midoriya were getting worried but work kept them busy enough you could avoid their questions and their concern and their judgment for the most part. “Why don’t you just talk to him?” Midoriya had asked one day. “She doesn’t owe him shit,” Bakugo had scoffed. “Maybe not,” Midoriya had acknowledged before turning back to you to say “but that doesn’t change the fact that the two of you love each other and you’re the one who decided to fake the relationship to the press. Even if you guys don’t start a real relationship again the least you could do is make sure you aren’t actively making each other miserable.” “I’ll think about it,” you had replied, but you decidedly didn’t think about it.

It’s been two weeks now since Hawks went away. You miss him. You wander into your kitchen, grab a bottle of Cabernet, open it, and are turning to lock yourself in your room when you nearly bump into an unfamiliar man with blonde hair with a single, lightning shaped black streak. “Who the fuck are you?” you ask once you’ve recovered. The man looks shaken by the question and a tad bit intimidated. “I’m, uh, Denki. Your new roommate? Mina introduced us the other day. You said hi, told me not to let Hawks in if he shows up, and then locked yourself in your room,” he explains sheepishly. You have zero recollection of this. You were probably drunk when it happened. “Oh... Well I’m (y/n) in case I forgot to mention it before,” you awkwardly introduce yourself before stepping around him. “See you around I guess,” you call over your shoulder before going back to your room and locking the door behind you.

You’re about halfway through the bottle of wine when it hits you what a sad sight this is. You’re wasting a perfectly good Saturday sitting at home alone and drinking by yourself in your locked room. The press would have a field day if they knew. You go to take another swig from the bottle, you’re far too sober to deal with everything you’re feeling right now, when you suddenly hear the sound of your lock shifting. You dismiss it at first as Mina trying the door to come check on you, but then it suddenly swings open to reveal Denki kneeling on the ground with a bobby pin looking accomplished and a nervous but determined looking Hawks standing behind him. “I thought I told you not to let him in,” you find yourself saying as you try to process what’s happening. Denki shrugs. “Seemed like you two could use a good chat,” he says before walking away. Hawks steps into the room and closes the door back behind him. “We need to talk. For real this time. I just.... Please give me a chance to explain or, or, to just prove to you that my feelings are real or something. Anything. Please,” he begs. Hawks has always been able to play you like a violin, hitting just the right notes to get your stubborn ass to bend, even if he doesn’t seem to realize it. A voice in the back of your head reminds you it’s doubtful he realizes considering all you’ve done is treat him cruelly since that tabloid came out. He deserves some of your ire. He doesn’t deserve all of it. “Don’t you think this is a conversation that should be had sober?” you ask, raising the half empty bottle of Cabernet for emphasis. “You just got off work a little while ago which means that’s the only bottle you’ve been working on. We both know it takes way more than half a bottle of wine to get you drunk,” he points out and he’s got you there. You’re out of excuses and honestly he probably does deserve a conversation. After all, Midoriya wasn’t wrong. You had no good reason to continue to deny Hawks at this point.

“Fine, let’s talk.”

Author’s Note: THIS HURT ME TO WRITE BUT WE OUT HERE. Hawks and (y/n)’s relationship is so complicated at this point and it’s interesting to write but it’s also hard and painful to write because you want them to be happy and in love but there is so much outside of them now that is involved in their relationship. Anyway suffer with me ig 🥲❤️

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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harrysbbby · 5 years ago

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Don’t Forget Where You Belong - JJ Maybank x Reader - Part Five

-Thank you guys so much for all the support on this series! I’ve gotten so many messages and comments with such nice feedback and I haven't had a chance to respond to them all so thank you! Also I think I got everyone on the tag list but if not let me know and if possible please ask to be added via my inbox just because it’s easier to keep a track of. anyway, please enjoy xx

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The five of you sat on John B’s front porch. You had gathered there that morning after the discovery of his father’s compass, which John B and JJ had taken to Lana Grubbs for investagtion

“Her husband just die guys, give her at least a moment,” you had protested by the boys didn’t listen as they go in John B’s van and driven off.

They had now returned, and Pope and Kie had arrived, all somewhat engrossed in JJ’s dramatic retelling of what was had happened

“And we were right outside like this, and all we hear is just, "Bam! Bam! Bam!" Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside! All right? And I'm just looking at him, like…” JJ stopped mid sentence and he moved forward shaking his hair over the top off you,

“Wait, first off, look at this shit,” he ran his hands through his hair, white specks falling off on to your lap.

“That's dandruff, disgusting,” Kie said, mouth downturned in a look of repulsion.

“Ugh, JJ,” you scoffed, wiping your thighs as he stood back up looking around at all of you.

“That's paint,” he said, a look of dramatic seriousness on his face, “At that point, I was just, like... I'm waiting for death,” he finished.

“Wow, you’re not dramatic at all, JJ,” you said to him sarcastically. He shot you a look as if to say ‘it’s all true.’

“Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot at us, right?” Pope asked him, to which he nodded, “Did you get a good description of them?”

“Yeah, literally anything,” you added.

“Anything we can bring to a police report?” Pope asked.

“Burly,” JJ said curtly, turning back around to the group.

“Burly, that’s all you got?” you asked him.

“Yeah, you know like…”

“That’s not very helpful,” Kie cut him off.

“Okay, well, no, like the type of guy at my dad's garage,” he explained, “I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers.

You and Kie spoke at the same time,

“Yeah. Yes. No, we know.

“We are, in fact, aware of this, JJ.”

He looked between the two of you before continuing. He leant back against the wall as he spoke, taking a melodramatic swig of his vape, “I can tell you with full confidence, these boys, these killers,” he exhaled, smoke emitting from his mouth, “they're square groupers.” He finished.

“They're square groupers,” Pope started, a very unimpressed look across his face, “like narco square grouper? Like Pablo Escobar square grouper?”

“Yeah, man.” JJ confirmed. You shook your head at the boy as you slumped further into your seat.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie,” Kie deadpanned.

“What does this square grouper look like, specifically?” Pope asked again, still not convinced.

“You were’t there,” JJ defended

“You don’t know what to look for!” Pope fired back.

“Dude!” JJ exclaimed, “I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time. Man, I was under duress, okay?”

A puff of air left your nose as a long air laugh left the back of your throat. This boy, you swore to god…

JJ a playful glared at you before turning back to Pope, “But I can tell you... I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming... that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man.” You caught John B looking down at the compass. “It's a heavy vibe right now, okay? I'm not liking this very much.”

“Okay, well we’ll let you calm down sweetheart,” you said to him in a sarcastic tone that was laced with actual concern. “Jesus Christ,” you whispered shaking your head as you turned to the group, specifically John B who had now turned his back o the group and continued to stare at the object,

“Why do they want the compass?” you asked.

“It’s a piece of shit,” Pope said insensitively, “You could pawn it off for 5 bucks if you wanted to.”

“Pope,” you started but he continued.

“No offense. I know it's in your family—”

“The office.” John B said, speaking for the first time.

“What?” Pope asked him.

“My dad’s office. He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research,” you followed John B through his house and to the door of the locked room, “We used to laugh at him like he was gonna find it. But now that he's gone, I've just kinda... I just left it as he kept it.”

You could see the way he was staring at the door, a look of deep sadness and melancholy swimming through his eyes.

“For when he gets back.” You said, rubbing your hand along his arm.

“Yeah, for when he gets back,” Kie echoed your words immediately. You leant around John B’s body and shot a look at Pope and JJ. They looked at each other and back to you, almost as if they were confused. You rolled your eyes as John B unlocked the door.

You entered the room and took in all of the stuff in the room. Maps, files, all of it.

“I've slept over here like 600 times, and I've never seen this door opened.”

“Here,” John B said grabbing a cork board which showed the lifetime of the compass. He explained who each person was and how they all died in possession of the compass.

“You have a death compass,” Pope stated, looking directly at John B.

“I do not,” he defended, holding the object tighter in his hand. He looked around at the group for support but you scrunched up your face and shrugged- it did seem cursed.

“You have a death compass,” Pope repeated.

“Get rid of it,” JJ ordered.

“It’s cursed, and it’s made its way back to you,” Pope and JJ continued to jeer and John B moved away from you all and sat down. He flicked the compass over in his hands.

“Look, my dad used to talk about this compartment in here,” you all gathered around to watch what he was doing. “Soldiers used it to hide secret notes.”

Something fell out and revealed writing across the inside of the compass.

“What’s that?” Kie asked, you and her both leaning forward over John B’s shoulder to get a better look. JJ’s head came close to yours as he bent his neck around to have a look.

“That wasn't there before,” John B stated, looking at the word, “This is my dad's handwriting.”

“How can you know that?” Pope asked sceptically.

“Because he does these weird Rs. See?”

“Can I see it?” JJ asked, placing a hand on your back to move further around to read the word. He hair obstructed your view as he leaned across you. “"Red—Rout—”

You moved his hair to the side, popping in below him to look up at him, “it says Redfield.” You clarified, ruffling his hair as you sat moved back out of his hair.

“Right,” he said sheepishly.

“Okay, well, what's Redfield?” Kie asked.

Answers were thrown around about what the common word could mean. Everyone began talking over one another, coupled with the rooster crowing very loudly. Pope was trying to work when he said,

“How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you?”

“Awww,” you cooed sticking your bottom lip out, “JJ loves the rooster.” You smiled up at him as you leaned in closer. He smiled down at you as he laughed, leaning his head down closer to yours.

“I love the rooster,” Kie echoed.

“Let me think.” Pope cut all of you off, growing frustrated. He kept throwing around random before John B’s frantic voice cut him off.

“Guys!”

He drew your attention to the black car that had pulled into the drive, and the two men that exited it.

“Guys, guys, is that them?” Kie started freaking out.

“Shit,” You mumbled.

“No, no!” JJ started to freak out running his hands through his hair. You grabbed his wrists trying to calm him down.

“This is suboptimal,” Pope commented.

“John B I told you,” JJ continued to pace, you moving along with him trying to get him to compose himself.

“JJ, look at me,” you said. He immediately swivelled and looked at you, before John B’s arm covered your face from hi vision, stepping forward to talk to him.

“Where's the gun?”

“Gun? I, uh, I can't—” JJ spluttered, mind running a million miles an hour.

“Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun?” Kie’s shrill voice came from behind you.

You reached your arm out to JJ who was still stressfully heaving.

“Just think, JJ” you said calmly. At your words he took a deep breath.

“It was in my backpack, and then I— on the porch,” he realised looking up at John B.

“On the porch,” John B confirmed pushing him towards the door. You brough your arms up to your chest as you felt anxiety corse through your veins as JJ stepped outside.

“John Routledge!” a booming voice came from outside. JJ skidded to a halt and turn around hastily, running back to the rom and slamming the door behind him.

“They’re on the front porch, guys,” he said.

You let out an involuntary whimper as you and Kie huddled together in fear. You could hear the two men trashing the palce.

“We have to leave.” Kie said.

“Window,” you said, pointing to the only window in the room. Pope and JJ rushed to try and prise it open.

“Hurry,” Kie urged them, she moved over to them as you and John B had your backs pressed against the door, holding it in place,

“what’s taking so long?” Kie asked them.

“It’s painted shut, okay,” JJ said aggressively as Kie moved to find something to slice through the paint. She got the letter opener and began to saw around the edge. Pope moved with you and John B to stand as a shield with the door.

“Come on,” JJ said frantically,”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Kie exclaimed, fingers moving qucikly.

You and John B shushed them. You felt a harsh force on your back and you and John B pushed against the door as the man banged on it.

“You better not be in there!”

Kie finally got the window opeed and started to climb out. JJ grabbed your hand and dragged you with him. He climbed out of the window first before helping you down, hands around your waist. John B and Pope came after you as you all followed Kie into the oly hiding spot you could find: the chicken coop.

The five of you sat inside, makig the chickens and rooster cluck loudly. You could feel your chest rising heavily as you struggled to catch you breath. John B was watching through the cracks and you could tell the men had exited the house as he tensed.

The chickens clucking rose louder and louder.

“Do something, Pope,” Kie said as he was the closest to the crowing rooster. “Shut him up.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Pet it, or talk to it,” she said frantically, tears streaming down her face, “I don't know.”

You could hear footsteps near the car. Tears welled in your eyes as you could feel your heart beating. JJ was next to you, and grabbed your hand. You looked at him and he nodded. A reassurance. You’d be okay. You nodded back.

The rooster only continued to get louder. John B sat back as he tried to hide after he heard the truck boot slam shut and one of the men start to walk over towards the coop.

You held bated breath. The rooster fluttered its wings and flew towards you and JJ.

JJ grabbed it and held it to the ground. It continued to crow loudly. Until you heard a sickening crack. The rooster went limp as JJ hurriedly let go.

You let out a quivering breath. Kie was sobbing quietly. JJ leant back and looked at you, only to see tears running down each side of your face. His eyes started to rim red as his breath became shaky. There was almost silence until you heard the men yell, their car start and drive away.

None of you moved for a moment, letting the adrenaline settle down.

You all crawled out of the chicken coop and JJ immediately made a beeline away from all of you. The four of you all looked at each other, before their eyes turned to you. You nodded, following JJ to where he stood in John B’s backyard, kicking stones.

You stood in front of him for a while. He looked up at you.

“What?” he asked forcefully, kicking another rock with your shoe.

“Just making sure you’re alright.” You said, crossing your arms across your chest, watching him.

“M fine,” he mumbled.

“JJ, you started.

“I saw the way you looked at me,” he said strongly ceasing his movements to look at you.

You sighed.

“I’m a bad person,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, refusing to meet your eyes.

You slowly moved towards him. You wrapped your arms slowly around his shoulders, until he relaxed and allowed you to fully envelope yourself around him.

“You’re not a bad person, J,” you said quietly, rubbing his back. “You’re a person who gets put into terrible situations without right or wrong,” you said pulling back and holding him at arm’s length. “Was what just happened horrible? Yes.” You told him truthfully, “but it doesn’t make me think any less of you.”

His eyebrows raised as you spoke, looking at you incredulously.

“Just shows me you would do anything to save your friends.”

He nodded at your words, wiping his nose and sniffing before rolling his shoulders back.

“Are you ready to go back to the rest of the group?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, relatively confidently. You smiled as he began walking next to you, returning slowly to himself.

You skipped along next to him, “you owe John B a rooster, you know.”

“Y/N,” he said sternly, but the sides of his mouths twitched as he suppressed a smile.

You spoke coyly, bringing a single finger to the side of your mouth as you teased him, “What? Too soon?”

Tag List:

I'm sorry it wouldn't let me tag some of you

@downbytheouterbanks @thesailbells @sexualparkour @bestfriendmagic @mileven-reddie @nikki082489 @treestarrrrrrrr @mynamessusan @kristinaxilliano @love-bean @lauraxwndrlnd @jjsthumbring @imsad05 @lovelymaybankk @http-cherries @belledutchess @queen1054 @wicked-laugh @dist-urbia @jjswhore @sspidermanss @fandomobsessedlife @dolanfivsosxox @whenyouregrungeaff @poguestyleskye @iknowrocknroll567 @kingdomheartsfan109 @ilikebrowniess @dangerouswhispersblog @hopelesswritingxd

#jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx fanfiction #John B #john b x sarah #john b x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow fanfiction #Rudy Pankow x reader #madelyn cline #chase stokes

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xmint-conditionx · 4 years ago

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☆ flanked ☆ ch1 | knj

(verb) flank -

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 4.7K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, feelings of guilt, brief description of sexual acts. ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: glad to be putting this gem back up into the world. please do let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for this, i’d be happy to oblige! this was one of the first things i’ve written, and so i hadn’t quite found my style yet, but it’s not that bad??? i pretty much have the whole story planned out, but i want to take my time with it. this is my lil baby, and i wanna treat it right uwu this starts off with a lot of angst and tough emotions, but there will be eventual smut!!! huge thank you to my supportive spouse who is in the military and has helped out with some of the realism aspects of this story. hope y’all like it! enjoy!

- minty <3

It’s raining today. Again. The clouds hang low, like a weighted blanket covering your whole world. Aren’t those things supposed to help with anxiety? If only the clouds comforted you, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to go to… therapy. The word stings in your brain. Another cruel joke of the universe: the un-comforting weighted cloud blanket, and the need for you to go to therapy to ease your pain about a dead therapist.

The light of the day is beginning to leave as you walk towards the address the man had given you the day before. You really should have been nicer; he really didn’t mean to hurt you. And you really should have asked his name. Mentally kicking yourself, you vow that you’ll do it tonight. After all, this is the only other time you’ve left the house by yourself this week. It was nice to not have the Casualty Assistance Officer breathing down your neck for once. There has to be some good in that. Hell, this little outing might actually be helpful.

The old government building is dull, like both the sky and your feelings. If you died right now and were reincarnated into an object instead of a being, the building in front of you would probably be the best fit. Shades of brown and grey cover tired and worn brick. Government funding has tried its best to keep it presentable but truthfully, it’s barely holding on. It’s definitely seen better days. The more you think about the similarities, the more pathetic you feel, so you push on ahead and push the thoughts out of your mind. The door creaks as you walk in the cold and dark foyer and it all just... makes sense. As empty inside as you are. Jesus, you’ve never been this morbid. There are no lights on other than one at the end of one of the hallways, and you hesitantly step towards it. You don’t like the thought of what that light is going to expose.

As you reluctantly enter the beam of offensive fluorescent light, someone takes notice of you. Already? They’re walking towards you, hand extended. You’re busy blinking back at the new bright sensation as you reach your hand out to introduce yourself. After blinking back the harsh light, you can see the little folding chairs placed in a circle in the room. Great, you think, just like AA.

The man before you seems to be in his late 30s, a little on the short side, with a little bit of hair recession. As you finish your short bow to the man, he says in Korean “Yes, someone told us you might be joining us tonight.” as he sends a meaningful look over to one of the chairs in the circle. You follow his gaze to see the man from yesterday grinning up at you, dimples on full display, this time in civilian clothes. After sending you a goofy little wave, he pats the chair next to him and not so smoothly motions for you to sit there.

“Go ahead,” the older man says, “make yourself comfortable. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.”

You walk toward the empty chair, and take in how truly different he looks in plain clothes. His KATUSA uniform was extremely flattering to his large frame, but this is just downright cruel. The black beanie he’s sporting looks way too good on him. His short sleeved v-neck shirt is a little tight, revealing the finely defined shape of his chest and his arms. He catches your eyes lingering on his body, and you quickly look down as you feel a blush creep up. You tell yourself to just pretend nothing happened, and it’ll all be fine.

After you sit down, you open your mouth to ask for his name, but he does the same, your voices awkwardly echoing each other. Realizing what happened, your cheeks grow even warmer and you can’t help but turn away as you both share a laugh. You shake it off and give him your name, family first and individual second, attempting to at least make eye contact with him.

“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Sangbyeong Kim Namjoon, but please don’t feel the need to use titles or honorifics with me. We’re equals here as far as I’m concerned. I’m really glad you decided to come tonight.”

So, it is him. You can’t even begin to believe it. He looks so different than he did in the tour pictures you saw only a few years ago, but as you look up at him knowing what you know, it all falls into place. Some things for sure didn’t change one bit- his button nose, his deep and smoldering eyes, and the signature dimples really should have given it away. His smile is still just as genuine and reassuring and gleaming and... beautiful?

You immediately squish the thought and offer him back a tight smile. You’re not going to let him know you know who he is. It would probably only make him feel weird and you’ve already been so awful to him. You’re not going to allow yourself to make a big deal about this, and you’re definitely not going to allow yourself to... like him.

“Look,” you start, “I appreciate your concern. I... I just don’t think something like this will help me. At least not right now.” You sigh, studying your shoes as a distraction. Your hands busy themselves fiddling with your necklace. There’s no way you can be here sitting this close to Namjoon.

As if he can read your panicked thoughts, Namjoon leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his warm breath on your jaw, and with a hushed and more gravelly voice, he says, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Hell, I didn’t say anything for almost a whole month. It just... felt good to listen. You’re not going to be forced into anything. This is going to go at your speed and be what you’re comfortable with. I promise.” With that last sentence, he places his large, warm hand on your knee.

Shit. You suddenly feel your entire body ignite. What is this? A bolt of lightning rushes up your spine. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. No, this isn’t happening. Your legs begin to tingle. This can’t be happening; this is not allowed. You swallow hard.

You don’t want to be aroused. You straight up shouldn’t be aroused. This is messed up. Really messed up. You blink some sense back into yourself and cross your legs away from him which thankfully removes the cursed hand.

You’d imagined being touched by this man for a pretty considerable amount of time some years ago; you had filled your head with countless fantasies, knowing they’d never come true. You’d read countless imaginings of his other fans and admirers. This man had fueled so many hidden desires within you. You’d thought of his hands exploring your frame, his strong arms throwing you around, his plush lips leaving marks along your inner thighs...

Thinking of him had been your guilty little pleasure, even something your husband had liked to playfully tease you about. To actually have him here next to you in the flesh, though, was still somehow unfathomable. Why now, you mentally screamed to the god you didn’t believe in. The universe’s cruel jokes just won’t end, will they? What can you possibly even do about this? You can’t sit here and allow your panties to be wet when your husband hasn’t even been buried yet for fucks sake. God, you’re so ashamed. You’re just going to have to keep him at a polite distance. That’s your only option.

You don’t speak through the meeting. But Namjoon was right, it is kind of nice to hear other people’s stories. Even though it’s only been a week since you found out, there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts you can relate to with these people. You’ve found out why Namjoon comes to these meetings every week. That was a question you didn’t want to linger on, much less learn the answer to. You didn’t want to imagine him experiencing a loss like this. Even when you weren’t convinced it was really him, seeing that same pain in another’s eyes only made yours hurt worse.

One of Namjoon’s fellow soldiers had died in a training accident, and the whole fire team was there doing group therapy. They spent most of their time remembering the funny things he would do to cheer everyone up during their long ruck marches and their annoying and boring bouts of equipment cleaning. Private First Class Derek Williams was the goofball of the group, and he was definitely well loved. Namjoon’s eyes never fully lit up when everyone’s anecdotes hit their punchline.

As the meeting draws to a close and people begin filing out, the group leader comes over to the both of you and asks Namjoon how his thoughts have been over the past week. It’s interesting that the man takes special interest in Namjoon. He nods and just casually replies, “I keep thinking it should have been me instead.”

His relaxed confession is absolutely shocking. Why would he say that? The older man seems to be as surprised as you are.

“Namjoon-ah, please don’t say such things,” the man urges.

“I know how it sounds, I really do. I’m not going to do anything crazy, and I know it’s a pointless thought,” he shrugs. “It’s just how I’ve been feeling.”

The older man nods.

“Go in well-being, Namjoon. Please, call me if you need to.”

You find yourself walking out together. The sky is now fully dark and there’s an added chill in the air, urging you to pull your scarf up a little higher. At least it’s not raining anymore. It’s not usually this cold in Daegu at this time of year; you’re practically begging Spring to come. Although you’re in stride with each other, Namjoon feels like he’s a million miles away.

“Hey,” you begin, hoping to ease the tension. “I’m sorry about your friend. He sounded like a really nice guy.”

“Yeah, he was. Thanks. I’m sorry about your husband too. You seem to miss him a lot.”

“Yeah, I do. Part of me still doesn’t believe he can really be gone. I feel like I’ve been walking around in a daze for the past week. All the paperwork I’ve had to sign. All the logistics. It’s all a little overwhelming so I… just kind of shut down most of the time. Our dog is still looking for him around the house, too, which is probably the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh, shit. I couldn’t imagine. I have a dog too and... I don’t want to think about how confused they must be. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

You both stop walking, because you realize you’ve allowed him to walk you all the way to your car. He didn’t even ask.

“Speaking of my son… I... actually need to go walk him. He’s been inside all day and it’s finally stopped raining. Huskies need exercise... So...”

Namjoon lights up a little. “Do you walk him on post?”

“No actually, we go to Duryu Park. He likes the ducks that gather at the pond. Although they probably won’t be doing very much at this time of night.”

“Hey, why don’t we go together?” he asks, “It’s dark out and it’s not a good idea for you to be by yourself.”

“Excuse me?” you snap. He doesn’t know you’re a brown belt, but he sure is about to.

A flustered Namjoon begins stumbling over his words. “I’m just saying, you’re like really small and someone could easily—“

“Namjoon,” you laugh. “I think I can handle myself.”

“No, uh, what I’m trying to say is that there’s safety in numbers, you know? It would be difficult to fight off bad guys while keeping hold of your dog...” He has a good point. You’ve never walked Draco this late before. You don’t want to admit it, but your recent lesson in mortality has left you a little more than uneasy, especially now that Namjoon has made you think about it.

He continues his word vomit, mistaking your furrowed eyebrows for reluctance instead of consideration.

“Look, I’m sure you’re very intimidating but—“

Oh my god, you can’t take it anymore.

“Namjoon!” you exclaim and he finally, finally stops the verbal deluge. “Fine.”

He seems astonished. “Really?”

“Yeah, meet me by the bridge that leads to the little island in the middle of the pond in like... 30 minutes. We usually do two laps around the water. And...” you pause, “thanks.” You’re a little annoyed at how persistent he can be, but he is really considerate.

His eyes sparkle in the light of the street lamps and you notice his gaze linger on your pursed lips. He does a... weird little hop and finally fully smiles at you. You’ve forgotten how utterly striking his full smile can be. Jesus Christ, how many teeth does this man have? His cheeks have become even more round and his eyes shrink into little half moons. Your stomach does somersaults as you bask in the glow of his happiness. Ugh, not again.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon!” he says, hurrying away. You don’t notice him glance back at you, and that’s probably a good thing.

You get in your car and put your forehead against the steering wheel. Why can’t you just say no to this man?

___________________________

You walk up to the start of the bridge with your pup in tow, who is obviously very pleased to be outside and at his favorite park to boot. The street lamps don’t cover much, but you can just make out a leggy figure standing next to a small white fluff ball. You’d forgotten he said he had a dog too. As you get closer, you see he’s got the leash handle around his wrist, because both his hands are holding two white cups with steam pouring out of the top.

“What’s this?” you ask, as he extends one of the cups to you. Your dogs are busy sniffing each other, ears back and tails wagging.

“Hot chocolate! It’s really cold out and I noticed you shivering when we got out of the group therapy building and I was going to get you coffee but I didn’t know what kind you like or how you take it plus it’s late and caffeine might keep you up all night and I didn’t want to—“

“Namjoon,” you cut him off before he explodes. “Thank you.” you reply, taking a sip of the hot drink and relishing in how it warms you up. You look back up at the handsome man, who is beaming down at you, enthralled in your pleased reaction. Warmth is beginning to spread through your body, and as your eye contact with him deepens, you begin to wonder if it’s just the hot chocolate. You can’t help yourself. “You do know that there’s a lot of sugar in hot chocolate though, right?”

He furrows his eyebrows and panic soon consumes his face.

“Oh! Right! I’m sorry I—“

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I’ll be fine, promise. And if I’m not and you end up keeping me up all night, I guess I’ll just have to kick your ass.” you deadpan, which takes more effort than usual because now, you’re picturing him… keeping you up all night.

He starts laughing and you can’t help but to join him. He has a good, hearty laugh, one that makes his entire face light up. It feels really good to be laughing with him.

“Oh!” he exclaims suddenly, “this is Moni!” gesturing down to the adorable American Eskimo at the end of the pink leash.

You squat down to formally introduce yourself to Moni. You let him sniff your hand as your dog takes the opportunity to sneak some kisses on your face.

“Bananas, stop!” you light-heartedly scold, but your pooch doesn’t get the message. He seems encouraged instead, and you are given no mercy by your big fluffy boy.

Namjoon just laughs at how adorably frustrated you are. After he’s had enough entertainment, he extends a hand and helps you back up. This is the first time you’ve touched skin to skin, and your body is keenly aware of it. His hands are softer than you thought they’d be, and really warm. With how cold it is, you wish you could keep holding onto his strong yet elegant hands. Even after he’s released you, a symphony of tingles play in your legs, betraying you once again.

“Shall we then?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head down slightly so he’s looking at you through his eyelashes. Why does he have to do that? He can’t look at you like that. It’s illegal. Not allowed. He’s torturing you, and surely he has to know that. Or is he oblivious? He’s probably not even trying, because he has no reason to. He doesn’t even need to try. Which is kind of the problem, because you can’t exactly tell him to stop being so damn hot.

You can only answer him by tugging on your leash with a “let’s go!”

Over your walk, you talk about favorite places to eat in town and the different attractions you’ve come to love during your stay here. He talks about one of his best friends who grew up here in Daegu, so he knows all of these nice little spots only a local would typically know. You don’t have to wait for him to say Yoongi’s name before you know who he’s talking about, bringing up a hint of stinging remorse at your secret. He says they’re still in contact as much as they can be, but it tends to be difficult when they were both doing their compulsory service. Yoongi had finished his obligation, and is back in Seoul working on music. For his time, he was stationed right outside of Seoul working with the Korean Military Police, so he never really had to totally put down his work. He talks about Yoongi like they’re brothers, and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. Namjoon doesn’t even try to hide how much he misses his friend.

He asks about where you grew up, and the question is kind of startling. It’s not that you’re not wanting to tell him, but you’re surprised that he wants to know.

“I grew up in Georgia, in the United States. It’s in the Southeastern part of the country.”

“Ah okay, so you grew up close to Atlanta?” he asks, full of curiosity.

“Kind of! I was about a 4 hour drive from there. I grew up closer to the ocean.” you say, and notice his eyes light up when you mention the sea.

“There’s a guy in my unit,” he begins, “who did his training in Georgia. He said that there isn’t much there other than Atlanta...” he says, quickly noticing your bemused look. He catches himself and finishes, “but in hindsight he was likely biased.”

“He probably trained at Ft. Benning. If that’s the case, I don’t blame him for thinking that at all,” you say, “He’s actually kind of right, if that’s all of Georgia he got to see,” you continue, laughing a little.

“Well, what do you think of Georgia?”

“Hmmmm. I think I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up anywhere else. The area where I grew up was close to the beach, but there was also a lot of agriculture. My grandma even had a peach tree in her backyard. She’d let me go back there and pick a peach and eat it if I had behaved that day. Peaches are my favorite, so it was a pretty good motivator.”

“Georgia is known for their peaches, right?” he asks, but his tone tells you he already knows the answer to that. You had always thought people were exaggerating at how smart he is, but you can’t deny the fact any longer.

“Yeah, we’re even called the peach state. Peaches, pecans, sweet onions and peanuts all grow well there.” you say and he nods with understanding.

“So what about the town you grew up in?”

“The town was pretty small, my high school maybe had 500 people in it. But the bigger city by us was great. A lot of different types of people. A lot of good food. God, I miss southern food a lot.” you gasp, grabbing his bicep with your free hand, “Namjoon! You haven’t lived until you’ve had good collard greens!”

“Collard greens? I’ve never heard of that,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“It’s a side dish we eat down south. It goes with just about everything, but it’s best next to fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”

“Macaroni and cheese…” he muses, letting the English words roll off his tongue, “I really want to try more American food. I’ve had plenty of hamburgers, but I want to try everything. PFC Williams always let me try his lunch if I asked him. He brought this thing called potato salad one day… that was an interesting experience.”

You sigh, “there’s much more to American food than just hamburgers and potato salad. Too bad there aren’t any real authentic American food restaurants here. Although, there is a Johnny Rockets on the other side of town. Is that where you get your hamburgers?”

“Yeah… it is. Chain restaurants are cheating though, right?”

“Yeah, basically. If you want real American food, you’ve got to get a real American to make it for you. I thought I really liked Korean food until I moved here. Americanized Koean food is not half as good as the real thing,” you assure him.

“I could have told you that,” he teases, giving you a light bump with his shoulder. “Do you have a favorite restaurant in town?”

You discuss the places you have come to love in Daegu, from restaurants to parks to shopping areas to museums. You both realize you enjoy art, although he prefers looking at it while you enjoy making it. The conversation ventures to Pollock and Monet and Van Gogh and you go on about how you just don’t get Picassos. He just lets you just rant about how much you hate his works for probably too long, until you’ve run out of breath and are forced to take a break.

“Wow, that bad huh? What did he ever do to you?” Namjoon chuckles.

“He destroyed my corneas with his kindergarten level bullshit, that’s what.” you snap, which only makes him laugh more.

“So it’s safe to say that you hate Banksy too, then?”

“No way!” you say, “Banksy is a genius!”

He just continues to chuckle, clearly amused. “I will never understand you, woman.”

“Are you trying to?” you quip before you can stop yourself, and his laughs die down. Oh, no. That was so direct. Way too direct. He’s got to know you’re into him now; he’d be a moron to not pick up on it. Your stomach is doing somersaults again, but not the good kind this time. You’ve known him for less than two days, so why did you think that was a good thing to say?

You chew your lip, worried of what he might be thinking. Or worse, what he might actually say. After an excruciatingly long silence, finally, it happens.

“Yes. I am.”

What does that even mean?! Your thoughts are beginning to spiral again, and thankfully, he continues, albeit way too nonchalantly.

“And honestly, it’s been really enjoyable to do.”

It’s been... enjoyable? Has he already forgotten how you met? This man must have a death wish if getting verbally murked by a strange woman in public was something he considered to be ‘enjoyable.’ You’re immeasurably grateful he isn't looking at you right now, because it’s nearly impossible to hide your astonishment.

“So…” he begins slowly, “I hope you’ll continue to let me.”

What do you even say to something like that? Namjoon is so much nicer than you ever expected, and that fact is only making things more difficult for you. You’ve had more enjoyment in this one walk than you’ve had this whole week, but there’s about a million different reasons why you should stay away from him. If you only could have met under different circumstances, this might be something you could explore. Honestly, you would still love to explore the possibilities with him, even here and now, but the thoughts of your husband are difficult to push away.

You recoil at that and curse yourself.

They shouldn’t be pushed away! It’s not fair to your husband or to his memory. It wouldn’t even be fair to Namjoon! You can barely give yourself a hundred percent right now, much less a new friendship. On top of everything, you’re going to have to go back to the states in less than 6 months, which is an eventuality you’re not looking forward to facing.

The only sounds now are the soft contact of your shoes against pavement, the tinkling of metal dog tags, and the cold breeze rustling the trees around the four of you. You were correct about there being no ducks out this late, and you find yourself missing their chatter. Anything to distract you from this confrontation would be welcome right now. As the silence grows longer, it becomes more and more difficult for you to respond. You’ve never been great with words, but what do you have to lose besides looking like an idiot? Besides, you’ve already done that. Like, yesterday. You take a deep breath and offer up the most broad explanation.

“Namjoon, I just can’t be a good friend to you right now.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for.” he simply replies, not missing a beat. Why is he being so stubborn? You’re going to have to elaborate. Forget trying to not make a fool out of yourself. He’s a good person, and he deserves your honesty-- at least most of it.

“I can’t be a good friend to you ever. I’m too consumed in my own baggage right now to help you carry yours. Plus, I’ll have to return to the States soon. I just… don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“That’s… not what I’m asking for,” he says again.

Frustration building up causes you to sigh at him. You’re going to need a little help from this infuriating dimpled tree-man, so you make him give it to you.

“What are you asking for, then?” you inquire with a little sting in your tone, leaving him with no room to continue being vague.

“I am asking to continue spending time with you. That’s it. I enjoy your company.” he says. This answer is still unacceptable to you because...

“I literally yelled at you in a parking lot yesterday, Namjoon,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was…” he trails off and scratches his head, “kind of my fault.”

“You can’t be serious. You… didn’t know.”

“That might be true, but I still hurt you, and I’d like the chance to continue making it up to you. At risk of sounding really cheesy… Part of my job as a KATUSA is to be a symbol of the friendship and mutual support of our two fine countries... To learn from and assist each other... I don’t see why we couldn’t do that too...”

“That… really was cheesy, Namjoon,” you chuckle.

He smiles down at you, and your heart skips around in your chest. When he speaks again, he draws out the first word, clearly in a teasing mood now.

“Okay, but… did it work?” he teases with a sly grin as he side-eyes you.

Part of you wants to tell him no, but he does deserve honesty after all. At least mostly honesty. You want to reveal to him that you know who he is, but you’re unsure of the words to say. He seems eager to stay in your life here, for whatever reason. Compared to what you’ve just been through, nothing can really hurt you again. So what’s the harm, really? It’s not like you have anyone else to spend time with.

“Yeah,” you confess. “It did.”

“So,” he begins, “does that mean you’ll let me show you the museum you haven’t been to yet? There’s this once piece in there that is spectacular. You have to let me show you.”

After a considerable silence, he looks at you with soft, begging eyes and lets out a soft “Please?”

“Okay, Namjoon. You got it.”

You cannot say no to this man.

“Saturday then? In the morning? We’ll want to beat the crowd, especially if you want to explore the whole thing!”

“That works for me. You know, I’m actually looking forward to you being my personal tour guide.”

“Great! I guess you really must be from Georgia. You’re sweet, just like a peach.”

44 notes · View notes

makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 272: (Directed by Michael Bay)

Previously on BnHA: The My Child Soldiers Academia arc finally started to live up to its name as Tokoyami became the first (but I assure you not the last) victim of traumatic mental scarring courtesy of Horikoshi’s sick games! So he and Dark Shadow showed up to stop Dabi from murdering Hawks and were all “please don’t kill our mentor.” Dabi was all “AH BUT YOUR MENTOR KILLED SOMEONE ELSE, AND ISN’T THAT JUST LIKE THE HEROES THOUGH, THEIR HANDS ARE SO STAINED WITH BLOOD” and then he tried to set both of them on fire several times in succession. Hawks was all “Tokoyami just run away while he’s in the middle of his five-hour sermon” and so they tried but Dabi followed them! But then Geten was all “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE... CHILL” and fucking froze everything for no discernible reason, and Tokoyami fled the building with an unconscious Hawks in tow as the battle raged on. The chapter then ended with Gigantomachia being all “I smell my master!” and standing up, hahaha oh fuck.

Today on BnHA: Well you guys are not going to believe this, but it turns out that Tomura waking up is actually a very bad thing. A “worst case scenario” if you will! Because, get this, he has a quirk that can destroy anything, which spreads from whatever he touches to fucking everything and everywhere else. Gosh, if only we’d known about this since like 35 chapters ago. If only we’d had a spy among the villains who could have warned us, and three entire months to plan our attack, and literally every single hero in Japan on call to help us when the time came. Anyway so you’re really going to be shocked by this I’m telling you, but it turns out that when a crazy powerful person who wants to destroy everything finally wakes up, he immediately starts destroying everything with his crazy power. So X-Less dies and Crust dies and everyone else runs, and meanwhile the kids, who are on the outskirts of the city finishing up the evacuation, stand there in shock as the plot rampages toward them ready to swallow them whole. The chapter ends with Deku powering up to FORTY-FIVE PERCENT YEAHHHHH, and oh shit. Finally we’re doing this.

I am not even remotely done with all the shit I’m supposed to be finishing up, but fuck it, I need a break and reading the new chapter is by far the funnest thing on my current to-do list, so!

OH SNAPS MY BOY HAS FINALLY OPENED HIS EYES

IT ONLY TOOK HIM... OKAY LOOK I’M NOT GOING TO GO BACK AND COUNT ALL OF THE CHAPTERS, BUT LET’S SAY... FIFTEEN. ...HUNDRED. CHAPTERS TO FINALLY SNAP TO IT AND COME JOIN THE PARTY. BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT! PROBABLY. AHH LET’S JUST READ ON

-- ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohm --

[puts on glasses and unfolds map while poring through a mess of scribbles on post-it notes] -- hold up, if my calculations are correct, I’m pretty sure “somewhere a bit further from the hospital” is, in fact, where a certain THREE TROUBLE-PRONE DISASTERS ARE CURRENTLY HOLED UP. AHHH

can it really be true. are we finally rejoining our protagonist and his buddy cop friends after 97 years. how will everyone react to Deku reacting to Tomura waking up ahhhh

so Burnin’ is yelling at the civilians to let them know if they have any family or friends who need assistance evacuating

god I hate the fact that this is a fucking understatement

they’re not taking any chances after Kamino and Fukuoka huh. fool them once, shame on you. fool them twice, oh shit. but there will not be a third time! no one fucking destroys three cities in the span of six months on their watch, no sirree

(ETA: ...)

lol the kids are trying to get the elderly citizens on a bus to evacuate, but a lady is trying to give them candy and Kacchan and Ochako are of two different minds on whether or not to accept

Kacchan is absolutely right about Ochako’s motivations, but in her defense, who the fuck turns down free chocolate

IIDA!!

FUCKING CHRIST JAPAN IT’S 200 YEARS IN THE FUTURE AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T SWITCHED TO DIGITAL RECORD-KEEPING? WHY IS THIS THE MOST REALISTIC THING IN THE ENTIRE MANGA TO DATE. MY GOOD SIR, IIDA IS LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH, ALL RECORDS AND BUILDINGS ABSOLUTELY CAN AND WILL BE COMPLETELY OBLITERATED IN THE CARNAGE TO COME. I’M SORRY TO BE THE ONE TO INFORM YOU OF THIS, BUT DAMN IT SOMEONE HAS TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

(ETA: I sure hope these poor bastards had good insurance.)

also. this man here who looks like Beaker from the Muppets, who presumably has the power of Doing Anything Those Wacky Flailing Inflatable Tube Men That You See Outside Of Car Dealerships Can Do. ...yes. that’s it. that’s an intentionally incomplete sentence with a subject but no predicate. I just feel like we should all sit and stare at him for a good thirty more seconds before continuing on with our lives

OH MY GOD

THEY’RE EVACUATING THE PETS TOO AHHHH. EXCUSE ME CERTAIN SOMEONES WHO THINK ALL HEROES ARE “DIRTY.” I SEE YOUR ARGUMENTS AND RAISE YOU THIS ONE SINGLE PANEL. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT. NOW WHAT DABI. AT A LOSS FOR WORDS I SEE. YOU JUST SIT AND PONDER THAT FOR A WHILE

is... this... a space shuttle man

is this literally just a man with a Boeing for a head. FUCKING QUIRKS THOUGH!!!!! ~*~wild~*~

OH MY GOD AND WE’RE BACK

time for some HORCRUX SHENANIGANS!! IS YOUR LIGHTNING BOLT SCAR BURNING DEKU. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED IS BACK AHHHH

so now he’s slightly hunching forward with his hands pressed together and Todoroki is immediately sensing that something is wrong ahhhhh

(ETA from like 5 days later: I had that as “Tokoyami” instead of “Todoroki” for the better part of a solid week you guys. SHOUTO YOU WERE GONE FOR SO LONG I FORGOT YOUR FUCKING NAME whoop.)

here come dat angst. here comes Horikoshi’s hand beckoning the trio closer and welcoming them to the pain parade ahhh. from now on that’s how I’m ending all my sentences btw. it just seems right. ahhh

OH MY LORD OH MY

ladies and gentlemen, YOU WERE SAYING DEKU DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT LATELY? HE’S NOT INTERESTING ENOUGH AS A PROTAGONIST, IS HE? well maybe that’s because Horikoshi has been saving this one juiciest of plot nuggets for a rainy day precisely like this! BRING ON THAT CHOSEN ONE ANGST AHHHHH

anyway so yes it is indeed OFA speaking to him in the form of Lil Bro a.k.a. the first user

lol I’m trying to think of commentary but it’s difficult seeing as I’M ALREADY SCROLLING DOWN TO IMPATIENTLY READ THE NEXT PAGE

lmao the fuck

okay Princess Zelda. can you get any more flowery with those descriptions though. A TRANSCENDENT BEING. A SUPERLATIVE ENTITY. A SUBLIME, PREEMINENT ORGANISM. FREED FROM ITS SHACKLES. UNFETTERED BY ALL EARTHLY LIMITATIONS

OH MY GOD

it absolutely boggles my mind that this guy is somehow still alive. ??! how many chapters and panels has it been now. he’s like the goat in the t-rex pen in fucking Jurassic Park. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET EATEN ALREADY

...

do you... want a blanket. ...?

(ETA: do you ever just. wake up and you’re like “ah shit it’s cold”, and then you destroy an entire city. mm.)

do you all suppose X-Less is fully aware that he’s about to die though? he hasn’t even moved. I imagine that sitting next to Tomura actually is much like sitting next to a giant t-rex. like he has to know there is no getting out of this alive. poor guy

damn Mic isn’t even looking back he’s just running back into the main room where all the rest of them are

wow this fight is still going on

I don’t know why, I just expected it to all magically be over all of a sudden now that we have bigger things to worry about. do you guys remember when we were all worried about the High End Noumus being the biggest threat. hahahahaha

(ETA: moment of silence for ALL OF THE FUCKING HIGH ENDS lmao. that did not go how I expected that plotline to go AT ALL, but at least we got the best fucking battle in the entire manga out of it.)

jesus CHRIST ENOUGH WITH THIS

WE GET IT TOMURA IS DANGEROUS AND SCARY AND EVIL AND AWAKE!!! JUST PLEASE GET TO IT ALREADY GOD I’M BEGGING YOU

FINALLY

goddammit. my reaction to this should have been much more “!!!” and “OH SHIT”, but he dragged it out so much that my initial reaction was one more of relief than horror. maybe it’s because of the way I read the chapters, constantly pausing to do commentary as I go along, but whenever a chapter has a ton of panels of people just staring into the distance awash with dread, it really stands out to me lol. there’s only so much I can write about that kind of thing. ah well at least we’re finally getting to the action

I genuinely can’t tell if Ujiko is frightened that he’s about to be disintegrated by Tomura’s quirk, or excited that Tomura is awake

maybe both lol. well don’t worry you’re not gonna die that easily, much as you would not catch me complaining if you did

thanks Gran

lol where was all this speed throughout the rest of this arc though. “we’re only competent when the plot necessitates it” huh. is that right

oh shit it’s destroying the rest of the lab

those are all of Ujiko’s collected quirks, right? someone please tell me if this is a good or a bad thing. on the one hand if they’re all destroyed it means Tomura can’t get them and Ujiko can’t make any more Noumus. but on the other hand this means they won’t ever be able to give them back to the original users (if any of them are even still alive). and also that’s a lot of evidence that’s being wiped out as well

oh shit they didn’t know about this?!

even after Deika City, you didn’t put two and two together?? even with all of Hawk’s intel?? what the hell did you think happened there?

well this explains why everyone was so la-dee-da-no-rush about capturing him though. well that’s on you guys. next time maybe don’t waste 20 minutes uselessly battling redshirt Noumus while Mirko has to do everything herself

anyway so I feel like people other than X-Less are almost certainly going to die here, and fuck. I’m not ready for any of this

AHH THE KIDS

BIT SLOW ON THE UPTAKE THERE KACCHAN LOL. FOR A MOMENT YOU HAD ME WORRIED THERE WAS SOMEHOW A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THREAT APPROACHING FROM THE OTHER SIDE, BEFORE YOU TURNED AROUND TO LOOK WHERE THE OTHERS WERE LOOKING

ALSO JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT SHOUTO’S DAD IS IN THAT HOSPITAL, ALONG WITH THEIR TEACHER! HERE. COME. DAT. ANGST

LOOK AT THIS CONSPICUOUSLY INTACT BUILDING AS IT STANDS THERE ALL OMINOUSLY WITH THE NEARBY BIRDS AND CRITTERS FRANTICALLY FLYING AWAY

I want to see it crumble so bad. now this is the kind of foreboding cinematic disaster movie bullshit I can get into

FFFF WHY IS THIS PANEL SO HARD TO SEE

THERE’S TOO MUCH CHAOS AND TOO MANY PEOPLE LOST AMIDST ALL THESE SHATTERING AND FALLING TUBES, BUT I NEED TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE IS SAFE AHHH

...okay so I see Ryuukyuu in the top right, and I think that’s RockLockRock on her back. Thirteen is clearly there in the bottom center, but I don’t know who that is next to them. and then of course Gran and Mic on the left. and a bunch of others spread out in various other places, but... where the hell is Aizawa??

OH THANK GOD

FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI, I KNOW FULL WELL YOU’RE NOT JUST GOING TO KILL OFF THE WORLD’S PREEMINENT DAD STRAIGHT UP OUT OF THE BLUE HERE, AND YET I STILL FELT ANXIETY AT THIS LAST PANEL. HOW DID YOU EVEN

BITCH YOU BETTER LET THE FUCK GO BEFORE I --

!!!

oh my god I gasped in real life. stop making me fear for the lives of main characters!!

he. he --. crust. he. ...

I literally stopped reading and had to stop and cover my mouth with both of my hands I’m

silence. no screaming. no flailing. no freaking out. just silence

shit. rest in peace you old sedimentary bastard. respect to you for saving the father of my children in your last fleeting moments. I still have not the slightest idea how you rose through the ranks to somehow become the sixth fucking highest rated hero (HERO BILLBOARD CHART, IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT. ARE YOU FEELING OKAY), but you sure did go out with style though

also this may be tacky of me to point out during such an emotionally charged moment, but one second Aizawa is wearing his goggles like normal, and the next they’re suddenly pushed up onto his forehead so we can see the anguish in his bloodshot eyes. there was no reason to do that other than angst and we all know it. so yes Shouta you dramatic bitch, I am calling you out. why Horikoshi felt he had to add to your many accumulated traumas is beyond me. you don’t deserve this and I am so, so sorry

OH GOOD I WAS JUST ABOUT TO ASK WHERE THE FUCK ENDEAVOR WAS

seeing as we just went over this with Gran, I will take the high road here and won’t ask why you’re only this fast now and couldn’t have been this useful this ages ago back before Tomura woke up. oh wait does sarcastically saying I won’t bring it up count as bringing it up. well whatever. middle road, then

sob I’m getting flashbacks to the end of Return of the Jedi when they’re all frantically flying out of the Death Star as it explodes

friendly reminder that Ryuukyuu, clearly the fastest one here despite carrying like 20 people, was number 10 in the rankings for some unknown reason. again, r.i.p. Crust you well-meaning geriatric soul

also just a stray thought, I hope it’s clear now why it was so important to give Deku those additional quirks. at a minimum he needs Blackwhip and Float just so he doesn’t instantly die the moment he’s in Tomura’s general vicinity. sob I’ve joked so much about flying quirks and here they are becoming fucking prerequisites now

anyway so Ujiko is mourning the loss of his lab, which again, good riddance mostly. but r.i.p. that evidence though

(ETA: nah the “total loss” part is referring to how the heroes fucked up so soundly and thoroughly. anyway no one would blame Mic if he accidentally dropped Ujiko in the midst of all this chaos, I’m just saying. I guess they need any intel he could still provide now more than ever though.)

OH MY GOD!!

LAUNDRY HERO WASH?! THIS SUDSY BOI CAN ACTUALLY KICK ASS WHAAAAT

oh my god oh my god it’s still spreading??!

fuck fuck fuck at this rate it’ll reach the kids

(ETA: that happened really fast actually.)

-- oh FUCK NO you had better NOT FUCKING TOUCH FUCKING PIXIE BOB, I WILL MAIL MYSELF TO JAPAN PANDEMIC OR NO PANDEMIC. DO YOU NOT SEE THE SIGN THAT SAYS “OFF-LIMITS.” RESPECT THE SIGN

SOB SHE’S SO BADASS BUT IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S STILL DISINTEGRATING FUCCCCCK. FUCK MY LIFE, FUCK EVERYTHING

AHHHHH

I can’t tell if her earthbending was able to stop it or not?? god help us all if it didn’t, I’m not even sure what else could stop it at this point

SHUT UP UJIKO!!

they really did. only to fuck it up completely at the finish line. well, the man most singularly responsible for it is dead now, again r.i.p. Crust you useless old legend

lmao despite myself

“by a miracle, or maybe through sheer will” even he acknowledges that Tomura waking up was basically complete bullshit. yes blah blah yadda yadda got zapped by some exposed wires explanation science. because we all know that getting electrocuted will fix you right up when your heart has stopped and you have completely flatlined. you can definitely trust Horikoshi on this and there’s absolutely no need to google how defibrillators actually work

also is he somehow wearing a cape now. again by a miracle or maybe through sheer will

YESSSSSSS

(ETA: one has to wonder what Ujiko’s plan was, assuming this scheme had actually played out. were they just banking on Tomura not waking up cranky and disoriented and wanting to test out his power. his quirk doesn’t exactly distinguish friend from foe here I’m just saying.)

the part of me that goes all “ooh ahh” when all the buildings explode in Independence Day is singing inside. but never fear, the rest of me is appropriately horrified though. what was that Burnin’ was saying about the city becoming a large-scale battle zone? sob

also this page sure serves as a nice refresher for exactly why Tomura Waking Up Was Bad, which was inexplicably a topic of some debate in recent weeks. yes in spite of everything the villains are still the bad guys who’d have thought. almost as if the purpose of humanizing a character is to show that they’re human, not that they’re right

WHAT’S THIS NOW???

WELL I’LL BE. IT’S BEEN AN EVENTFUL THREE MONTHS, APPARENTLY!??

HOOAHHHHHHHH

IT’S A BIRD IT’S A PLANE IT’S A BADASS OH SHIIIIITTTTTT

finally finally finally!!!!!!

THE SHIT HAS HIT THE FAN, REPEAT, THE SHIT HAS HIT THE PROVERBIAL FAN. THE PLOT IS FINALLY HAPPENING, REPEAT, THE PLOT IS FINALLY FUCKING HAPPENING AHHHHHH

and there is no one coming to save them this time. no one to arrive at the last second and say “it’s all right now because I am here.” they have to save themselves. they have to save everyone. the training wheels are finally coming off. the safety net has been removed. after 272 chapters, the story has finally reached a point where these kids, these children, who in spite of all they’ve been through have been protected and shielded from the worst of it up till now, will finally have to be the ones to save the day all on their own

and they are not ready. but also maybe they kind of are??! but they definitely are not. and oh god oh god oh god, FINALLY WE’RE REALLY DOING THIS. TIME TO FIX THE MESS THOSE SILLY GROWN-UPS MADE, CHILDREN. YOU GOT THIS

#bnha 272 #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #ujiko daruma #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #if the next few chapters don't feature some kind of avengers-style epic team up pose I will sue #what has this all even been building up to if not that #remember that the kids are not allowed to die though horikoshi #remember what we agreed upon #you remember right #right #horikoshi???

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fullsunalicia · 5 years ago

Note

May I request a werewolf au for jaemin please?🥺👉🏻👈🏻 I’m a sucker for supernatural aus and your writing ‘s are extraordinary!! I absolutely love them! So please?🥺🥺

destiny — NJM

you’re not close with na jaemin, but you know plenty of rumors to give you a vivid expectation. so when he starts courting you, you’re not sure if you can believe him. you learn, though, that it’s so hard to resist a womanizer when he’s as charming as jaemin, and is destined to be yours forever.

jesus christ na jaemin is too pretty to handle. look at that gif omg / hello love! thank you so much for your kind words. i’m glad i can please someone with my writing 🥺 i hope you enjoy wolf jaemin

werewolf!jaemin x witch!reader / college au

Temptation is a sin. So is Na Jaemin.

There’s just that hazy air around him that makes everyone look again. Too gorgeous to be real, and yet he’s standing here, gifting you with a smile that knocks the air right out of you. God’s favorite, falling from heaven. That’s how you’d describe the stunning boy who has been trying for the past few weeks to convince you to go on a date with him.

His face may seem innocent, but the glint in his eye says anything but. You have heard about the many girls, how the shards of their hearts form a trail behind him. Jaemin is easy to please, but hard to keep. Attention is a precious thing, time is money. In his case, time is pleasure. A pretty face may lure him in, but nothing ever makes him stay.

And yet he’s been chasing you for a month now. The first to pick you up from your locker, a freshly brewed coffee in hand just for you. For someone that walks the earth as a god in a human body, Na Jaemin shouldn’t bother to learn your coffee orders by heart. He shouldn’t be the one making you laugh out loud in your least favorite classes and he should not be making the effort to make your heart skip.

Love is discardable, recycable. Never long-term. That’s what Jaemin says. So why is he sitting here, pouting, because you’re denying him the affection he so desperately craves? There are thousands of girls who’d kill to take your place. It drives you insane to be kept in the dark - you want to crack the wolf boy’s head open and look inside, cast a spell on him and make him spill his guts.

Nobody can know you’re a witch. Especially not Na Jaemin, part of the wolf pack that despises your kind. Everybody knows the stories, of Mark Lee and the woman he gave his heart to, cursed by a witch’s envy. That’s why you stay quiet and endure Jaemin’s flirting, and the only reason you resort to investigate the human way.

“What are you doing here, Nana? Be honest.”

Jaemin furrows his brows. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean, baby?” The nickname falls so easily from his lips. It feels just right, because why wouldn’t you be his baby? Who would pass up the chance to taste the honey dripping from his lips, the lies he speaks that taste like bitter-sweet candy? You’ve met plenty of guys who play hearts like a particularly interesting game of cards, but never have you seen someone like Jaemin. Love is like a lottery to him, and you’re the billion dollar prize - the way he treats you makes you feel like the most precious thing in the world, of undescribable worth. You know Jaemin is affectionate with everyone, and yet it makes your heart burst when he cradles your waist like it’s fine china. Carefully. Respectfully. To him, you’re art. Sadly, he’s not a critic - only the collector.

You let him rub his cheek against your stomach as if he’s a needy cat. There’s no use stopping him, since Jaemin gets the attention he desires one way or another. It should make you feel sick. And yet you only pray that he continues playing this game of push and pull, hope that he keeps trying. You’re a masochist, an addict. Na Jaemin is your fix.

The sunlight frames Jaemin’s face like a halo when he leans back and smiles at you. This is the face of Michelangelo’s David, the perfect reincarnation of Adonis. His looks are surreal. Like cut-out diamonds, Jaemin’s jawline seems sharp, but is soft to the touch. Beauty in controversy. Lust and virtue in one. Any angel at the gates to heaven would rip their hair out of trying to sort Jaemin - too gorgeous for hell, too sinful to stay in paradise. “Go bother someone else,” you mumble, desperately trying to break the spell you’re under. Na Jaemin makes you dizzy, and he knows. “I bet Haechan’s going to cuddle you. So go, shoo!”

“I don’t want Haechan.” A loud yelp is tugged out of you when Jaemin tugs you down to sit next to him, and in the next second you’re being embraced. Strong arms curl around your body, holding you close, hiding you away from the world. The most wonderful feeling in the world. “I want you.”

Love has never treated you right. Several nights have been wasted on boys and their white lies, on let-down crushes and unrequited feelings. Maybe it’s because you’re a witch, and bad luck follows you everywhere.

Just for once in your life, you want to be treated like a princess. You want Jaemin to look at you and see everything he ever dreamt of coming true. But that’s impossible. You know it very well.

That’s why you untangle yourself, sad smile on your lips, sorrow weighing heavy on your heart. Love is for girls that aren’t afraid to fall. “Sorry, but no,” you tell Jaemin, and tears prick at your eyes when you stand up and walk away.

You will never fall again.

— ❦ —

Sadness tastes like cheap raspberry vodka and salty tears. Atleast that’s what your intoxicated brain thinks it is, as you lean your head against the bathtub and close your eyes in an attempt to drown out all the loud music outside. It’s not like you to get wasted beyond control, but it’s hard to look at Kwon Eunbin’s face and say no when she begs you to take a shot with her. And another one. And another one after that.

Did it matter to Eunbin that you don’t like alcohol that tastes like disinfectant? No, of course not. Your best friend’s only job is to get you drunk and make you forget about your stupid infatuation with a certain blueberry-haired boy. Rosé wine and cocktails are long forgotten the second Eunbin takes you into the kitchen and makes you play drinking games against the frat brothers living here. Now it’s landed you in the only free bathroom inside this house, while Eunbin is searching for some water for you.

Not like she’s too drunk to take care of even herself right now. You’d bet fifty dollars she‘s already forgotten about you because someone lured her to a beer pong table. It’s alright, you forgive her. But it’s not that nice to sit in the bathroom and ponder over the meaning of your existence alone. Your conclusion of what sorrow tastes like isn’t that deep, but it’s the perfect description of the miserable shape you’re in right now. Who the hell even drinks raspberry vodka? It tastes nothing like that. It’s just drinkable bleach that your stomach barely handles.

And yet it’s enough to numb out the butterflies Na Jaemin brings to life inside you. When you close your eyes, his laughter rings in your ears, as if he’s right here with you. The sound is pleasant, calming. Like good music to a trained ear. This is what happiness would sound like if it were a noise. No matter how Jaemin treats love interests, he’s a good person at heart. That’s what makes it so hard to get over that stupid infatuation. It’s impossible to forget about his advances when all you can think about is him volunteering at a shelter and secretly adopting rescue kittens, because his best friend loves them. You think of the adorable smile on his lips when he’s suprised with his favorite snack, and how he gushes love declarations to his friends just because they thought about him. His kindness to strangers. His loyalty to the pack.

Na Jaemin. End of sentence. That’s it.

Perfection is unattainable, a ridiculous concept. You know that, and you still think it’s the only word to properly grasp Jaemin’s personality.

The vodka is doing a bad job from getting your mind off him. You groan, moving to hide your face in your hands. Is the room spinning or is that just you giving out on reality?

“(y/n)?”

It’s not Eunbin. When you look up, you lock eyes with Lee Jeno. It’s heartwarming how concerned he looks, even if you don’t talk that often. You’re only acquiantances. Despite that, Jeno moves to sit down beside you, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Everything alright?” he asks, voice quiet. You strain to even hear him properly, booming trap music making the house rumble.

It’s ridiculous, but your inebriated brain doesn’t even think about worrying about yourself. Grinning, you point at the boy’s blonde locks, tousled and curled. His girlfriend liked to play around with his hair often. It’s cute he lets her style it. “Since when’s your hair dyed?” You drawl out. Your tongue feels weirdly heavy, as if it’s not supposed to be there. Something makes you want to bite down, but the very small part of you that’s still sober screams not to do it. “Last time I saw you, it was still black. Did your girl do that?”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound, but it’s not like Jaemin. It doesn’t make your heart skip several beats and stutter like a broken record. “You’re about to pass out in our bathroom and yet you ask me about my hair?”

“Yeah. It looks really, really cool. I didn’t think any other hair color would suit you, but now that I see it, I dig it. Good job to the hair dresser.”

“Thanks.” Jeno chuckles, and then he helps you sit up. The many shots took their time to hit you, but now they all mess with you at once. Thankfully, you have a very good friend who keeps you up. “I’ll pass it along. But first, can I get you some water? Do you want to lay down? There’s a spare room downstairs because Renjun’s out of the house right now.”

Fear suddenly floods your senses. Eunbin hasn’t returned, and you don’t want to be left alone again. If Jeno goes now, you’ll probably start crying from the amount of overthinking you’ve been up to. “Don’t leave, please,” you plead Jeno. He pets your hair, like you’re some sort of cat. It’s strangely enjoyable.

“(y/n), you need some other drink besides alcohol. You’re going to have the biggest hangover otherwise.”

Oh, there is no way to avoid that. If Jeno knew how much you had downed this evening ... But you don’t tell him, instead shaking your head. “Don’t wanna be alone. ‘M sad.”

Jeno cocks his head. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t read, unfathomable. Like this, he somehow looks younger. You wonder if cocking his head is a habit he picked up from being a wolf, but asking that would be weird. The man seated infront of you takes the decision out of your hands. “You want me to get Jaemin?”

You don’t know what possesses you, but you nod instantly. Moving on instinct, of course. The second Jaemin is mentioned, your fears settle. Your heart calms down. What is it about that name that makes you feel so much at home?

“Okay,” Jeno breathes out. He squeezes your shoulder one last time, before standing up and leaving the bathroom. Time seems to pass so slowly. Being in a bathroom drunk always feels like staying in an alternate dimension. It’s just God and you now, no matter if you’re religious or not. It’s an unwritten rule.

Your audience with a deity doesn’t last long, though it feels like eternity. When the door opens again, Jaemin enters, the door clicking into the lock as he closes it. “Baby,” he laughs. How dare he mock your misery? “I didn’t even know you drink at parties.”

Your actions are out of your control the second Jaemin settles beside you. Without hesitation, you move to climb on his lap, arms moving around his waist and keeping him there. This is fine. This is okay. He wouldn’t mind, right?

For a moment, Jaemin tenses below you. In that split second, you think rationally again. Maybe you had crossed a boundary. You should’ve asked before initiating this. What the hell were you thinking? But Jaemin bows over you, and then your mind just blanks. You get lost in the way he embraces you, strong body hiding away yours as he buries his face in your hair and breathes in deeply. Jaemin is warm, like a furnace beneath your touch. Wolves tend to run a little warmer than normal people. The boy in your arms seems to burn you, and yet you wouldn’t move away for a single thing in the world. You’re perfectly content with where you are.

If this is what loving Jaemin feels like, you think that the pain to be endured is worth it. This feels like your own personal heaven. Soft lips meeting the shell of your ear. Whispered compliments. Someone chuckling alongside with you when you comment sarcastically. The universe comes to a halt whenever you’re with this wolf, whether that’s a good thing or not. You don’t want to know. You want to stay like this forever.

“Still with me, baby?”

“Mhm.” You hum, repositioning yourself on his lap. Sadly, he leans away when you lock your arms around his neck, laughing at the whine you let out at that. He’s really enjoying seeing you suffer today. Maybe this is why his friends beat him up all the time. You’ve seen their play fights, both in human and wolf form. “Tired.”

Where Jaemin’s hands meet the exposed skin of your waist, the butterflies come back to life. You weren’t able to drown them, no matter how much vodka you drank. “Did someone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re wasted?” he mumbles, tugging you closer. Your breath hitches when his chest meets yours. He smiles. “Now I need to follow you like a guard dog at every party so nobody else gets to see this. I’d get too jealous.”

“Don’t worry,” you mutter. A hiccup makes you jump on top of him, and you miss the way Jaemin silently groans at that. “Nobody wants me, anyway.”

It’s quiet for a long time. Surely, this would make him stop chasing after you, and now you’ll have to learn how to survive every day without the wolf boy making you feel better with his words. The reassurance he showers you with. The many thumbs-ups, his constant encouragement. Though, now that you think about it - this is the longest Jaemin has ever put up with a girl. Is he humoring you? Did he know about what he made bloom inside your chest, and is hoping you choke on the petals?

When you look up, the wolf’s eyes are in disbelief, almost enraged. It’s a reaction that you didn’t expect, sobering you up just a little. “Is that what you think?” he inquires, the underlying tone in his voice deadly. You gulp. “(y/n), you must know about the many guys standing in line behind me. Are you unaware of all the attention that you draw to yourself? How stunning you are?”

The words tug at your heartstrings. Still, you tell him, “It’s never made anyone stay.”

It’s the truth, a truth he’s going to confirm himself. Na Jaemin can’t be held down. He’s the fleeting warm wind kissing your skin, the sun breaking through the thunder clouds to save your day. He’s not meant to be there forever. Witches don’t run with wolves.

You’d give it all up for him. The spells, the magic, the spirits. Toss everything away to offer Jaemin the world. But Jaemin has galaxies inside his soul, and the universe inside his eyes.

What would he want with your world?

Jeno coughs awkwardly when he enters. It’s the only comment he lets slip about the position you’re both in, instead kneeling down to offer you the glass. The water’s freezingly cold, but you gulp it all down, heart soaring at Jaemin’s praise. Both wolves briefly talk about what’s going on downstairs, and you yawn. Jaemin’s head snaps to yours. Seconds later, you’re lifted off the ground.

“Jaemin!”

Jeno laughs at your shocked squeal. He turns off the lights in the bathroom while you’re carried out, and you lose sight of him as Jaemin brings you to bed. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. You just want to sleep. Forget about this conversation, deal with the problem later. In the morning, you’d let your heart be crushed by the boy who was never yours. And then you’ll have to learn how to survive that.

Jaemin sets you down on a soft bed. His hands cup your cheeks, thumbs swiping over your cheekbones. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says. His tone offers no room for discussion. So you nod obediently, and hug him. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but something just keeps urging you to. To feed into the addiction that is Na Jaemin. The more you consume, the more hooked you get. He just laughs when you kiss his cheek, lets you tug him down so he hovers over you. “Stop acting cute. You’re still in trouble.”

“Okay.” You kiss his other cheek. His eyes slip closed when you dishevel his hair, tugging at the locks in an affectionate manner. The color suits him.

You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. The flutter of your heart is a foreign feeling, as weird as the sadness you feel when Jaemin moves away from you. You’re not ready yet, not able to face the flood. You grip his shirt, your legs wound tightly around your waist. The immense wish for him to lay down beside you makes you feel lightheaded.

“(y/n),” Jaemin groans, but he still hides his face in the crook of your neck. You’re aware he can hear your heart racing at his actions, but you can’t find yourself to care. All that matters is that he’s here. You sigh in content when the wolf kisses his way up your throat, dangerously close to your jaw. “Acting cute is not gonna save you.”

You shrug.

The room is dimmed, so you can’t see the look on his face. “Stop,” he deadpans. “I can’t kiss you when you’re drunk. Be a good girl.”

“Will you kiss me, then?”

“When you’re sober and still willing.”

You tighten your grip on his shirt. “Okay. That’s a promise, right? Because otherwise, I’ll get really, really, really upset...”

You wish he wouldn’t tease you by pressing a kiss to your cheeks. You can’t see him, but you know he’s grinning. You just know. He’s Na Jaemin. “Be a good girl,” he repeats. “And in the morning, you’ll get a reward.”

— ❦ —

Your head feels like it’s been split apart. Someone’s punching holes into your temples, and you wince when you move. This is the reason you never drink high-percentage alcohol. It messes you up so much more than your trusted wine.

The bed you slept in feels empty without a body to hold you warm. It smells like your favorite wolf, but you know for a fact he hasn’t been in this room once after you fell asleep. He wouldn’t do anything without your consent. Especially when you’re under the influence. You long for another hug, but once you realize what you’re feeling, you freeze. Everything from yesterday comes rushing back.

“Oh my stars,” you murmur.

Embarrassment feels very hot, and somehow chilling at the same time. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks, your face turning into a heating pack for the hands that move to cover them. You rarely allow yourself to get so intoxicated in public. So why’d it have to happen in near proximity of Jaemin, so you can mess up and spill your secrets?

There’s still a reward to claim, though. You were promised something, and you intend to get what you are owed as a last goodbye. Before Jaemin shifts his attention and forgets about you, as if you were a star in the sky dying and leaving nothing behind but dust. You can still feel his hands on you, the touch imprinted into skin and soul. Many boys had gripped you with the sole intent of using you to their own gain, but Jaemin had held you like you were the most valuable thing in his life. A treasure. A blessing. With just a few soothing words, this wolf had managed to fill the cracks in your heart with his appreciatiation. It’s not enough to make you believe in love, but it’s enough to finally return your bravery to you. So you can finally step over the edge and fall, to surrender to another person. Your heart is battered and bruised, but you’d give it to him without hesitation.

Life isn’t meant to be spent dreading everything. You’ll regret choosing pain over caution, but it’s better than rotting away alone. There is no way to look past all the beautiful things life has to offer. It gave you Jaemin, even if it was for a little while. In his smile, you see the honesty you’ve been craving all your life from other people. His touch makes you forget about the men who treated you like their servant and not the queen they were supposed to worship. When Jaemin listened, you remembered what it felt like to be taken seriously. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to reject you. Anyone who makes you realize your worth again is a person worth let in. So you slip out of bed and start searching for him.

You’re still owed a kiss.

The house is littered with plastic cups and empty bottles. A peek into the many rooms reveals sleeping pack members and girlfriends, and some friends scattered over the couches in the living room. You can’t find Jaemin anywhere, so you head to the kitchen. Maybe he’s already preparing breakfast?

Mark Lee is seated at the kitchen table.

He sits there, looking like he was waiting for you. Perhaps he was. He’s a supernatural creature, blessed with heightened senses and perfect hearing. Your little footsteps must have sounded like booming fireworks to him. The rumors made him out to be a scary person, and if he wasn’t looking at you with such a blank face, you’d be willing to overlook them and call him cute. But it’s not a boy staring you straight in the face; it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Mark doesn’t speak for a long time. His eyes wander over your appearance, your body still clad in the outfit from yesterday. The house had been too hot several moments ago, but now you feel like shuddering. Nothing is more terrifying than looking someone in the face and being aware of much they loathe you.

There’s no other explanation for the glare etched into his face. No other reason for him to despise you, even though this is the first time he ever saw you. He knows. Knows about the powers you carry in your blood, the very same ones someone else used to curse his girlfriend. The story is widely known, almost a myth, if it weren’t for the many people that watched her collapse straight into Mark’s arms as her veins turned black. A forbidden spell, and yet it was used in broad daylight.

Mark hums. It would’ve sounded nice, if it weren’t so ominous. “Jaemin’s gone to the bakery,” he says, voice cold and void of politeness. This man can’t stand the sight of you. Honestly, if you were in his place, you wouldn’t be able to either. “He told me about having a girl sleeping over. Someone he likes. Someone who’s been toying with his feelings.”

Your throat closes up. You don’t like where this is going.

He pushes away the empty cup he clutched, revealing the claws extending from the tips of his fingers. You try to remind yourself that he can’t control it, that he’s just angry. It’s hard to do when everything inside you screams for you to run away.

The table creaks loudly when Mark leans on it. You can see the sharp nails more clearly now, deadly to the touch. “He didn’t tell me it was a witch,” the wolf continues, as if he wasn’t aware of how much he’s scaring you. “Though that clearly explains why you’re breaking his heart and enjoying it. All you witches can do is destroy and demolish. Is that why you sent us the vampires? Even though you were fully aware they’d turn on you? Did that not matter to you, if it meant being rid of us wolves?”

“I don’t enjoy it,” you whisper. You know hearts can’t physically break, but your chest is hurting, and you’re afraid Mark is going to shatter you instead of Jaemin. This is what you get for believing other people over the person themselves. If only you had realized that Jaemin was serious; the amount of time he had spent on you, so unusual for a boy of his kind, his respectful behaviour, everything. “I didn’t mean to...”

“I don’t care!”

Mark has finally cast aside the cool exterior. Visibly fuming, he watches as you tremble because he had raised his voice. The wolf shakes his head, then his hands, tries to shake off the anger. Stop the transformation. He wouldn’t turn in his own kitchen, would he?

Maybe you should just let him shred you to pieces. It’s what you deserve for treating Jaemin like some boy without feelings. You feel terrible.

There’s a gaping ache growing just beneath your lungs, swallowing up your heart like a black hole. The feeling is excruciating, almost unbearable. You force yourself to bear it. You deserve it, you tell yourself. You deserve it. The words ring in your ears and in your entire body, making way for the hollow feeling that imprints itself inside you.

Mark never looks away. He gauges in your reaction, the dooming realization of the consequences to your actions. “Stay away from him,” he finally tells you. It’s the last nail driven into your coffin. Everything seems to fade away. “Stay away from that boy. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken by someone who’s never learnt to appreciate it. You know that. Spare him. Leave, and spare him.”

As a child, you had once swallowed a potion on accident. Your mother tended to leave all her cups and cauldrons everywhere, often forgetting that curiousity manifests itself in her daughter. The liquid had been thick and had burned, all the way down to your stomach, spreading through your body as the agony swallowed you up. Like someone biting away at your organs, ripping a big chunk out of your heart and paralyzing your tongue. You had been lucky the potion wasn’t deadly, only intended to torture, to coax the truth out of someone.

This is a fresh serve of that very potion. The memory is suddenly clear as day, every detail repeating in your mind. The same fire. The same torment. And you’ve ingested it on your own accords again. You never learn.

“Okay,” you say. It’s not you speaking, but it’s your voice, an odd out-of-body experience.

No one stops you as you walk out the house. You never look back.

— ❦ —

Magic in a way, is like poison.

It’s uncontrollable sometimes. When your senses are flooded with intense emotions, it splinters of your fingertips like the sparks of a fire, just as dangerous. It burns down villages and gives life to dead forests. The earth splits to obey it, raising the ocean and capturing the stars to bend to your will. It eats away at your energy every time you use it, sends you straight to the ground after a particularly powerful spell. No one ever taught you how to turn it into a cure. It doesn’t mend the wounds of your soul, only the superficial ones grazing your skin. Humanity does not need magic to save lifes. Medicine reaches out way further than magic does, tackles the problems more effectively. Scars fade away with time. Wounds close up. But your soul never recovers. It remembers everything, for now and eternity. It is going to replay the moment you abandoned Jaemin forever.

The ground is strangely comforting. You’ve been resting on it for a while now, even though your bed is right beside you. The cold is numbing, keeps you awake. Haunted by the many months Jaemin spent chasing after you, you stare at the ceiling and pray for karma to have mercy on you. How blind you were. Now that you’re given the sight, you’re not sure you want to keep it.

You spent many days counting the what if’s. What would’ve happened if you weren’t so stubborn, so gullible. You count them, once, twice, infinitely, then you repeat. Only the stars listen. They hear the secrets you whisper to them, the stories of your burden, and they guard that secret forever. It’s the only thing they can do for you.

When witches mourn, nature mourns with them. Eunbin watches as the weather starts to follow your lead. Thunderstorms darken the skies for days on end, the blighting thunder lighting up your face. She watches as flowers start to wilt at your touch, how your tears make the rain knock at your window like an old friend. You only let her in at night, when the moon watches over you both, heightened magic coursing through your veins. You’re always stronger at night. It’s a trait you passed on to your first creation, the werewolves. The very first curse you ever casted.

“All you witches can do is destroy and demolish.”

Mark is very right.

Eunbin moves to hold you close, but she could very well hold a desk plant. Or a lamp. You never stir in her hold, as motionless as an inanimate object. Once, you had helped her through a very similar phase. The world had come crashing down on Kwon Eunbin the day she lost Yeeun. Nature had suffered under her sorrow, flooding streets and cities as you had desperately tried to anchor Eunbin in the waves trying to drown her. In a sense, witches are very selfish.

She believes you’re anything but.

“(y/n),” she mumbles. The ground groans below her when she shifts her weight, the old wood barely doing its’ job. “Please talk to him.”

You laugh, but it’s void of emotion. Eunbin can’t recognize her best friend in that sound, the woman she considers a sister. You’re like a poltergeist, born out of heartbreak. “And break up the pack because of my stupid feelings?” You scoff. “Sure. Because I couldn’t possibly be more egoistic than that.”

“You’re suffering.”

“I feel like I’m dead, Eunbin.” It’s quiet for a very long time. You finally move, the life returning to your limbs. You twist and turn, clinging to her body like a toddler in need of affection. She graps that chance, embracing you tightly, her arms forming a cage. If that bothers you, you don’t complain. “Just dead. I can barely feel anything. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me - every second I spend thinking about us separated... It’s a vicious cycle. I can’t get any rest. I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve been.”

Eunbin knows about the tales of the children of the moon. How the moon had turned away from the witches and gave her attention to the ones who needed it most, and she gifted the wolves with all her blessings. The promise of a life-changing love, returned in full. Two souls connected by fate. Kindred spirits finding their way back to each other.

But it couldn’t be. No, absolutely impossible.

Eunbin thinks about Yeeun. She thinks of a big, grey wolf, giving her life for Eunbin, fulfilling a promise untold. And she reconsiders.

Some people aren’t meant to be seperated. Eunbin wonders if a long time ago, someone had written your story into the stars, moonlight-tipped fingers connecting your soul to another. Destined to be with the boy with the unruly, blue hair.

It’s been sometime since she last visited the Dream frat. Maybe it was time to return.

— ❦ —

Never in your life has someone thrown stones at your window. You must admit, the experience is more scary than romantic, and you curse all the movies in existence that made you think this was cute. It’s almost embarrassing that some minerals knocking against glass is the reason you snap out of your trance, but you try and pin-point the blame on the fact that nobody’s ever done this before.

A stone flies past your cheek when you open the window. You almost scream.

“Oh my god, (y/n)! I’m so sorry!”

The voice is oddly familiar - and the instant remedy to your vicious cycle. All the sleepless nights melt away as you peak down and look Na Jaemin in the face, a big smile on his lips. Something inside your soul finally clicks and rests, never moving again. Not until something makes the boy below your window walk away. “What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing here?”

Jaemin spreads his arms. “Giving you your reward, of course.”

Guilt pools in your stomach, almost as overwhelming as the happiness that floods you at the realization that he’s really here. Sweet Jaemin, with the honest eyes and heavenly smile. The one you hurt terribly... “Jaemin, you can’t be-“

“Move away from the window, baby,” he interrupts you. Irritated, you lean away; shouldn’t he be angry with you? Upset or disappointed? He’s not even listening to you, but it seems like there is no reason to. Something claws at your window, swinging in without fear.

Now, you really do scream. The rocks were one thing, but Jaemin climbing through your window? This apartment complex is huge, for god’s sake. Did he just scale the side of the building? “Jaemin!” you hiss. “What the hell...”

You never get to finish your sentence. The wolf boy tackles you, pushing you on your bed as he firmly embraces you and rests his head on your chest. Like he’s supposed to be there. Not like you’ve been avoiding him for weeks because Mark Lee was going to rip your head out if you even breathed in the direction of Jaemin. His arms are locked around your waist, holding you there. You’re effectively trapped.

You can’t complain.

Jaemin hums in content when you hug him back, and he eases his weight off of you so you can move and sling your legs around his waist. He nuzzles his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. “Missed this,” he mumbles. “Missed you.”

You let him tug your shirt up so he can rest his hands on your naked waist. It’s like giving him a gift - his eyes light up in giddiness when he finally touches you, feels the warmth of you below his fingertips again. A child seeing the presents on christmas morning. “Missed you, too.” You bite your lip. “But aren’t you mad?”

He ignores you for a very long time. Instead, the man between your legs bunches your shirt up and covers your stomach with his own hand, as if he can’t believe you’re actually there. Beneath his skin. Holding him close. You would’ve never realized that Na Jaemin would be in disbelief of a girl wanting him, but look at him now. Your heart soars at the admiration in his eyes, and they meet yours when your pulse speeds up. It makes a smirk adorn his lips; he’s satisfied with the effect he has on you. For a moment, he looks down again, to the place where your hands hold his against your body. “Did you know that your little witch friend can be really vocal?” he says, ignoring your question completely. Lips leave a trail of heat down your skin as Jaemin traces the outline of your jugular vein. “She looks fairly small, but you should’ve seen her when she scolded the hell out of Mark. Really funny, actually. Wish she would’ve done it sooner...”

“Eunbin?” you inquire, puzzled. “What would Eunbin want with Mark Lee?”

Jaemin stops leaving kisses on you, sadly. He raises his head to look at you, offering you a look right into his soul. You see where the moon had fallen in love with Jaemin, where the lines of human and wolf blurred. Memories that gather and bundle, a messy clutter of emotions. But beneath it all, you find the boy you’ve fallen in love with. In his eyes, you find salvation.

The blankets rustle when Jaemin moves on top of you. He shifts his weight, gripping your waist a little bit tighter to hold you closer. When your chests meet, your hearts start syncing up, shaping a melody of their own. A few moments pass as both Jaemin and you concentrate on it; concentrate on where love meets forgiveness.

It’s weird. When Jaemin had just been an unknown face, you never managed to read him. Now, he’s like an open book that he pulled out himself for you. Put it on your lap and asked you to read it to him, as if he doesn’t know what’s inside it. In your hands lies his heart. Does he know that he’s clutching yours? You hope so.

“Well, you see.” Jaemin presses a kiss to your cheek. “She came in really calmly, actually. Wanted to see me and confirm something. Renjun was about to call for me, but Mark interfered... she brought herself into a lot of danger, coming to our house when she’s a witch. She did it for you. Told Mark that I should talk to you, and he in turn told her it’s best if you stay several continents away from me... I broke his nose for that.”

“Jaemin!”

He shrugs. “Eunbin yelling at him was pretty nice, but not enough to settle my anger. You think I’m going to let him talk about my mate like that?”

This is it. The explanation you’ve been begging the stars for, the root of your vicious cycle. Your mouth falls open in shock. Jaemin watches, half amused, half expectant. Like he’s waiting for something. “You mean to tell me...”

“Yeah. Eunbin found that out. She came to ask me if it was true. It’s what Mark didn’t know, because I didn’t tell anybody except Jeno. You should’ve seen the look on Mark’s face...” Jaemin halts. Worry glazes over his eyes, and it takes you several seconds to understand that he’s worrying about you. “Baby, are you alright? You’re all pale. It’s alright if you reject me, don’t worry, as long as you’re hap...”

Jaemin is suprisingly easy to push down. Usually, you wouldn’t be able to pin down a wolf, but the shock gave you an advantage. Straddling him, you lean down and finally kiss Jaemin.

It’s the key to your cage. The funny tasting cure your mom brewed for the potion you accidentally drank. If sadness tastes like raspberry vodka and salty tears, happiness tastes like chapstick and chewing gum. It’s the only thing you register before Jaemin flips you over and kisses you breathless.

You had been shy, but Jaemin is ruthless. His canines tug at your lower lip, a silent order for you to obey and part your lips. If your fingers clawing at his shoulders hurts him, he certainly doesn’t mention it, too busy drowning in the overwhelming feeling of your tongue moving against his. When you finally push him away to catch your breath, the wolf feels like he got drunk off of you. “That’s one way to claim your prize,” he breathes out.

A long time ago, the moon had mercy on your poor soul. This is what had been waiting for you all your life, hidden in the looming shadows of the supernatural world. A soulmate, born to love and adore you. Destiny feels a little bit like contentment.

You can finally laugh as the wounds that had been inflicted on you heal over, making way for the only emperor of your heart. “This kiss isn’t the prize,” you reply. “You are.”

#this is a mess i’m sorry #lmao can y’all tell i was walking on the edge of involving some smut #physically had to restrain myself JSNSHSM #na jaemin #nct dream #nct #na jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #na jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #na jaemin one shot #nct dream one shot #nct one shot #na jaemin scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios

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theknightoflameblogs · 5 years ago

Text

Dinner Date? (AOS Spock x Reader)

A/N: I think this may just be a part one, I do want to continue the story but I was more eager to see if people were interested first. Also this is meant to be read with either a female, male, or non-binary reader! I have been wanting to do a Spock x Reader for awhile now, this is my first time writing one! Enjoy!

Summary: After being hospitalized (and passing out) in Sickbay from a dumb choice you made while on mission, you are surprised to find that Commander Spock had stayed by your side while you slept.

Word Count: 3,338

Warning: Swearing and a sarcastic Bones and cute moments

---

“Shit. Shit. Holy- FUCK!” Was all you could manage to say as a sharp pain twisted into your side. You were currently in Sickbay after having collapsed on the floor just outside of the bridge, nearby crewmen immediately rushed you to a not-so-happy Dr. McCoy.

“Damn it, man, I told you not to eat that planet’s weird berries!” McCoy said in a frustrated tone as he pulled out his scanner. “It’s only been what- two hours? And you are already showing symptoms of infection in your abdominal region that would usually take years to develop!”

“How can you be so sure…” You breathed, gripping at your stomach which started to cramp. “...that it was the berries?”

“Mm, I dunno (Y/N), maybe because of the fact that Jim and I had no berries whatsoever and we seem to be doing perfectly fine. It’s no coincidence, damn it!”

Nausea passed over your body in massive waves, you applied pressure via your fingertips between the two tendons on your wrist in an attempt to get the feeling to cease. You remembered seeing this technique in an article somewhere, but you were pretty sure that the article didn’t take into account your situation. “Well the natives said... that eating the berries was a sign of a... good spirit… a way to connect with them. It’s called respecting...tradition. Something you and the Captain… refused to do.” The fact that it was taking so much energy to construct sentences both amazed and horrified you.

“Maybe those berries weren’t meant for humans.” McCoy grunted, walking out your line of sight. “Just because you're some diplomat representing all of Starfleet doesn’t mean you have to go around eating weird foods for the sake of tradition.”

“Bones,” You declared. “I could really do without the lecture right now.” You only felt worse the longer you laid there, your forehead broke out into a sweat and your face grew hot. You pictured McCoy getting his instruments together from the sound of metal clinking against metal, at least that is what you hoped he was doing.

“Alright! Alright, hold on…” He said, fumbling with what sounded like a plastic bag. “Damn... what would that green-blooded hobgoblin think of this?”

“You mean Commander Spock?” You asked, even though you understood what he meant. “What does he have to do with-” a sharp sting entered the side of your arm as your asshole-of-a-friend, and trusted doctor, injected you with a large syringe. “-Oh, what the hell was that?!”

“That-” McCoy said, holding up the syringe defiantly, “-just saved your life. Well, maybe. Give it an hour or two, your fever should already be going down. The pain will subside in no time.”

“Jesus, Bones, you could have at least warned me before stabbing my arm!"

“Well it’s not supposed to hurt so much without a warning.” You heard him say, but you were more focused on the white walls within the Sickbay, which were beginning to blur into everything else until it became one muddy display. It made your eyelids feel heavy.

“Everything is so abstract looking…” You said half-consciously, watching as different colors danced in front of your vision.

“Well I’m no Picasso, much less a painter,” You heard him say, or maybe you just imagined it. It didn’t matter though, seeing as all the sounds and sights were becoming one big jumble. It didn’t stay this way for long before everything went completely black.

You have been abroad upon the Enterprise for almost a year now, part of its five-year intergalactic planetary voyage. As a Starfleet diplomat, you were stationed on the bridge and tasked with regulating Starfleet protocol and managing peace-treaties and negotiations. Through this job, you befriended many on the Enterprise, especially those stationed on the bridge with you. You were quick to become friends with the notorious (or so he thought) Captain Kirk, as well as others like Lieutenant Uhura and the pilots, Mr. Sulu and Chekhov.There were even people beyond the bridge like Mr. Scotty down in Engineering who you managed to get well acquainted with. You were simply amazed by all these different and infatuating personalities you had come to know, but there was one person- or rather, an alien- who you had come to admire the most aboard your time here.

Commander Spock.

You were only to report on the bridge three days out of the week, the rest of your time was spent helping to ease the tension between antsy crewmen who were getting themselves into disputes and fistfights (even though it was not in your pay grade, and was sure as hell not part of your job description either) and even assisting the Chief Officers in preparation for meetings in the department they resided over (which was part of your pay grade).

It was a small attraction… at first.

The Enterprise was only four months into its five-year voyage whenever the Captain tasked you to assist in preparing and partaking in an introductory meeting (really it was more of a banquet) for the Science Department. The last two months had already taken up your time with meetings (*banquets) in other departments: speaking on behalf of Starfleet, introducing yourself to the staff and crew, helping them adjust to life aboard a starship, answering to millions upon millions questions and concerns. Today would be no different, or so you thought.

You entered the science lab with a clipboard full of notes you were preparing to say in your speech. Contrary to others’ belief, you never used the same speech twice, you took too much pride in your work to do so- except for those few rush jobs where the only thing you managed to have on hand was a speech about how cute yet terrifying Tribbles were. The memory of all those confused faces in the crowd during a Starfleet conference still haunted you to this day. The Admiral was to say, in the very least, displeased.

Awaiting by a table of fliers was the Enterprise’s chief science officer. His back had been turned to you when you entered the lab, and he was still unaware of your presence as you drew closer to him.

“Commander.” you greeted, yet received no reply. That was odd, with you being the only other person in the laboratory besides him, he had to have heard you. Maybe you just weren’t being loud enough. Determined, you took another step closer. “Commander!”

Still, no reply. By now you managed to get close enough to see his face, and you were rather more perplexed to see that his eyes were closed. Odd. You weren’t well educated enough about Vulcans to know if this was some ritualistic standing sleep-like state they put themselves in, but it reminded you of a similar nature that some of the Terran animals back home displayed.

“Just like a horse…” You murmured, before slowly reaching up to touch the Vulcan’s face. You hadn’t realized how close you had gotten to him. He stood there perfectly, his face was so mellow, so clear of emotion, he almost looked like some sort of statue…

A hand caught your wrist before a finger could even graze his cheek, a shock ran through your body, it scared the shit out of you. “What is like a horse?” Commander Spock asked, staring down at you with his full, dark eyes.

You quickly (and embarrassingly) pulled your hand away from his grip, holding it protectively close over your hammering heart. “C-Commander Spock, I-I thought you were asleep!”

“I was not sleeping.” He responded in a calm tone. He straightened his posture and placed his hands behind his back. “I was meditating.”

“Nervous?” You asked half-jokingly. “The whole department is going to be here tonight, things can go wrong, but it will be alright.” It was apparent you were saying this more for your own benefit rather than his.

“I find it illogical to be nervous.”

“And why is that?”

“Based on what I could gather from your involvement in past assignments, Lieutenant. I trust you are more than qualified to execute this meeting successfully.” He replied with a small smile.

You felt your heart swell at the praise, and you smiled right back.

After that day, you and Commander Spock maintained a mutual friendship: greeting one another with a nod or smile as you passed by in the hallways or having small (but quite educational on your part) talks while riding the lift, it never went beyond that, but you didn’t mind. You felt like your growing attraction for him had to be limited in some way, seeing as his thoughts on you are nothing but platonic.

…

...Lieutenant?

Lieutenant (L/N)? Can you hear me?

You felt a rough shake of your shoulders, pulling you straight out of the darkness in a start.

“Doctor, I believe that was an unnecessary course of action. The Lieutenant was already waking up.” A familiar voice said.

“You’re overreacting, Spock. (Y/N) needed a jumpstart.” Another voice responded.

You looked around the room quickly, watching as the blurred figures started to take appropriate shape and form. It was Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock, both peering down at you. Immediately, McCoy started to check your vitals asking you clipboard questions like: How are you feeling? Is there any pain when I do this? Commander Spock on the other hand stood idly by with his hands behind his back, his face could be read as stoic if it weren’t for the fact that his eyebrows were furrowed. It actually surprised you to see him here, but you had a feeling that it had to do with the details of your mission.

"Oh man…" you grunted as you sat up slowly. "How long was I out for?"

"Approximately for five hours and twenty-one minutes." Spock responded.

"Yeah, because (Y/N) was so worried about the exact number of minutes they missed." McCoy said with a loose smile, despite the gruff tone in his voice.

"I may not be well acquainted in human social cues, Doctor-" Spock said, turning his gaze on McCoy, "-But I believe you are using sarcasm. In your case, this would not be uncommon."

"Well good job, Sherlock. Seems you cracked the case!" McCoy said with false praise.

Spock went to open his mouth, you could tell he wanted clarification by the way his gaze narrowed, but instead, he diverted his attention back onto you. "How are you feeling, Lieutenant?"

It was a question that surprised both you and the doctor (or maybe he always looked that confused). “I feel fine-” You said abruptly, “Well, at least I think I do. Am I, Bones?” You nervously looked over to your friend.

“Yeah, you’re fine.” McCoy responded, waving his hand casually. “All we had to do was pump your system full of antibodies and just like that, infection was gone. Thank God we aren’t living in the Dark Ages.”

The Commander approached your bedside. “It seems the berries initiated a rapid case of abdominal infection known to your species as colonic diverticulitis. It’s quickening effects seem to have caused a trauma in your nerves, specifically your sensory nerves, leading them to send incorrect signals. Which explains your disassociation with reality.”

“Alright, Mr. Know-it-all, I’m the doctor here.” McCoy said with a grumble, before addressing you. “It just means those berries infected your bowels and started blending your five senses together like one big smoothie.”

“That is rather an inaccurate description, but yes, the Doctor is somewhat correct.” A slight grimace was in Spock’s voice, causing you to smile. The two always had differentiating opinions. Watching them react to one another like highly-active mind fields was quite entertaining.

McCoy only shook his head in irritation, “Which means, (Y/N), no more eating any foreign soul-binding berries, you hear? I mean it.” He was now targeting you, which was not so entertaining.

“Okay. Okay.” You held up your hands in defeat. “I solemnly promise to never eat any foreign soul-binding berries, again.”

“Yeah, well let’s see how long that promise lasts.” He crossed his arms, before a faint smirk appeared on his face. “You know Pointy-Ears here-” he said gesturing to the Commander. “-was worried sick about you. Got here as soon as you passed out, didn’t even leave your side when writing his report to command.”

You felt your face grow hot at the news. He waited here for you? He wasn’t in the landing party with you when you beamed down onto that planet… you didn’t know how to take this news. But knowing you, you must have been overthinking it, he was just being friendly after all. Still, you had to force yourself not to cover your face in shame as you knew it was red with embarrassment. You didn’t want your friend (and doctor) or the Vulcan you had come to like so much see your flustered expression.

“I was merely concerned with the Lieutenant’s well-being, as (L/N)’s superior, I saw it only fitting to stay by their side until they got better.” You heard him say.

When you felt confident enough to look up from your bed sheets you were surprised to see Spock staring straight at you.

“Uh huh…and I’m the king of Mars.” McCoy sarcastically said with a taunting smile that you wish you could smack off his face. He probably didn’t even know what he was embarrassing you by doing this.

“Doctor, the United Martian Colonies is governed by a uniglobal government, it does not have an establish monarchy-”

“How about I get a drink, and you finish that thought later. Alright, Spock?” Bones interjected with eagerness. “(Y/N), you’re free to leave whenever. From your head to your toes, you are medically sound.”

“Thanks to you, Bones.” You replied.

“Please, it’s only my life’s work.” He said, waving his PADD up in the air knowingly. “And if you need me, which you better not, I’ll be in the bar- drinking the day away.” With that, he disappeared out the door.

You turned your attention over to Spock, who had his gaze on the door. You decided it would be best to head out as well, seeing as you couldn’t control your heartbeat, you were sure you looked like a tomato with how frequently your face was turning red. "Well I guess I’m free to leave since my doctor suggested so." You say in a means of farewell.

The bed's mattress shifted under your weight as you slowly began to peel yourself off from it, it took awhile, seeing as the way you had been laying on it for the past five hours made you stiff,

"I have to agree with the Doctor's earlier statement." Spock said, grabbing your attention. "Your actions were reckless and could have been fatal if it were not for him."

"Understood, Commander.” You responded formally as you pulled on your yellow blazer over your tank top. You felt somewhat dejected, but shook that feeling away. He was concerned because he was your commanding officer. That gesture alone should have been satisfying enough.

“I typed up a mission report and sent it to Command, they requested that you send in a report as well.”

“Thank you, Commander.” You replied, grabbing your Command insignia off of the end table before reattaching it to your uniform. “Have the natives of the planet decided whether or not to join the Federation?”

“I’m afraid I do not know. I was... preoccupied at the time.”

He must have been talking about the report. Thinking about it now, it would be best to complete yours now while it was still fresh on your mind. It was only fair to your Commander that you got it done as soon as possible.

“Well I better head-” You started.

“Lieutenant, I was wondering-” Spock also initiated taking another step forward.

The sound of the entry door sliding open stopped you both, it was Captain Kirk.

“I heard what had happened and the natives promised-” Kirk announced as he casually walked into Sickbay. “-they did not know it was potentially fatal to us and assured- am I interrupting something here?” His nonchalant attitude formed into a more devious one as he looked between the two of you.

“Uh, no, you aren’t.” You said quickly. “What did they say?”

Kirk smirked, briefly shrugging his shoulders, before continuing on. “Well everything is all good now. Just about an hour after you were admitted into Sickbay, the natives agreed to join the Federation. Took awhile for them to decide. They sent gifts of apology to you, I had them sent to your room. Of course, if I had known that I would be receiving gifts, I would have eaten some berries too.” He said with a chuckle.

“Captain, that would be highly illogical seeing as the same berries led to the incapacitation of Lieutenant (L/N).” Spock noted matter-of-factly, making you smile a bit. It was well-known that as a Vulcan, his mind-set followed logic to its core, however you couldn’t help but interpret his words as being thoughtful. Or maybe, you were just projecting that into his words.

“And that is why I am in debt to our wonderful Lieutenant, here.” Kirk said with a dramatic bow. “Without (Y/N), the Federation would not have gained a whole planet as its ally today.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched your Captain move across the room like some Shakespearean actor (like running on his tippy-toes and bowing), you decided to play along and twirl dramatically over to him before kissing him on the cheek as though his words just meant the world to you. The scene itself caused an eyebrow-raised look from a clearly confused Spock, the expression alone made you two laugh.

“Am I missing something here?” Spock asked, looking between the two of you.

“Nope.” Kirk responded, lazily putting his arm around the Vulcan’s shoulder, “But you know what you are missing? A nice, hot meal. After such a long day, you two deserve a treat. Go grab something in the mess hall together, Captain’s orders.” He finished with a smirk, making your stomach turn. Why would he say it like that? ...Did he know you liked the Commander? But that would be impossible! You never even mentioned to anyone how you felt about Spock… Were you that obvious?

Before you could open your mouth to say anything, you saw that your Captain was already leaving the room. He turned around briefly and gave two thumbs up and an encouraging nod in your direction, but to your surprise the gesture wasn’t aimed at you, but rather.... at the Commander.

You heard a throat clear beside you and turned to see that Spock was looking you in the eyes. Like, really looking at you.

“Lieutenant...” The way his voice wavered suggested… nervousness. He knitted his eyebrows together and his posture became much more stiff, confirming your suspicions. “...do I have your permission to address you by your first name?”

You felt your cheeks burn again at his request. “You do.” Immediately his body relaxed. “May I, in turn, address you as Spock?”

“Certainly, (Y/N).” He said smoothly, you could tell he was testing out your name. You liked it.

You felt a nervousness build up within you, unsure where this conversation was leading to until Spock spoke up again.

“I would like to request your presence tonight in the mess hall for social engagement and dinner.”

And with that your heart was blown ten thousand light-years away.

“You sure our lovely Captain didn’t bribe you to say that?” You asked half-jokingly, trying not to sound like you were just melted away.

“I do not need persuasion with money or gifts to spend an evening with you.”

How he could say such things without becoming a puddle of embarrassment amazed you. You felt giddy as a warm smile spread across your lips. “Then yes, I would love to have dinner with you.”

“I’ll come by your quarters at eight.” He stated, smiling down at you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#spock #spock x reader #start trek #star trek aos #fanfiction #cute #part 1 #leonard mccoy #jim kirk #romance #first fanfic

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tobi-momo · 4 years ago

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PROTECTOR {PART 2}

PART 2 of PROTECTOR

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1720

Warnings: cursing, descriptions of an injury- nothing major

Synopsis: You had a happy life. Completely and utterly perfect. Atleast that's how you acted. You may have had a hard childhood, but no one else needs to know that. You may be getting stalked by your insane ex-bestfriend, but it's okay. It'll all work itself out. Right?

YOUR EYES are ringing by the time you wake up on a couch, that is definitely not in your house. You slowly open your eyes to the sweet smell of caramel and laundry freshener. Why laundry freshener? The change of scenery has you confused, but so does the fact that you aren’t wearing your own clothes anymore. Well, your shirt anyway. You have a gray, oversized hoodie that is way too long for your arms. You weren’t small, but this sweatshirt definitely made it seem like you were. Who’s sweatshirt was this anyway? You grab the strings of the sweatshirt and rub them with your fingers, feeling the material in your hands. I guess you know where the laundry freshener came from.

You lift your chest in order to sit up before wincing in pain from the sharp sting coming from your tummy.

What was that?

You quickly lay back down to ease the pain, placing your hand on the hem of the hoodie, slowly lifting the bottom to look at the bandage covering what you know is the purple/black bruise on your torso, with patches of skin peeled off. You sigh in disappointment, but not surprise and try to sit up once again.

You knew what, who, it was, you’re just disappointed you didn’t see it sooner.

You ease yourself into it, wincing at the pain at the sting of your wound before you feel a firm hand against your shoulder, pushing you back down to the edge of the couch.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You inhale sharply through your teeth and whip your head up to look at Bakugou. Of course he was the one to save you. Why would it be someone else? If you knew this, then why were you still shocked as if you were taken by him?

“Eat this. I’m taking you home after.”

You paint a fake smile on and look as if you were untouched and good as new.

“Oh, It’s okay, I can get home by myself, thank you for taking care of me though!”

He knows you’re faking, but it sure looked convincing. This had to take practice. How long have you been faking for?

He tilts his head in a sort of confusion, and barely furrows eyebrows before deadpanning again.

“Why are you smiling? You’re obviously hurt. Now eat this before I change my mind and kick you out.” He places the bowl of soup on the table in front of the couch and then extends his arms to help you up. With his left hand wrapping around the top of your back, he uses his right arm to softly place on your left shoulder and gently pull you up against the back of his couch, your back limp against the soft furniture.

His hands weren’t rough, but they weren’t exactly soft, either. You couldn’t really put your finger on it but his hands made you feel more at ease.

You try not to show the pain in your face as he repositions you, although he doesn’t know why. He knows that you’re pretending that the pain doesn’t exist, but he doesn’t exactly know why. He raises his hand to your forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat gathering on your forehead.

“You seriously don’t need to do this for me. I can manag-”

“Just shut up and eat the damn soup, (Y/N). Your mom called when you were unconscious so I-”

“Did you tell her? Did you tell her what happened?” Worry splashed across your face as you bring your hands toward your temple, massaging it with your fingers in order to try and keep your composure.

“What? No, I just told her that you ran into me and that I’m walking you home. Which is why you need to hurry the hell up and eat the soup before I make you starve.”

You let out a loud sigh, shaking your hands and rolling your head back to calm yourself down. The blondie observes your motions and he wonders what could’ve made you react like that, but he stays silent as you make your way towards the bowl and spoon on the table.

“Wow, this is really good, Bakugou-kun! What are you, like a five-star chef or something?” Your expression lights up while his expression stays flat as stands up, going to clean his mess.

“No, but whatever brand that the soup came from certainly is apparently.” You giggle at his remark as you go back to your soup. He halfway turns his head to look at you with a side eye, but turns back. He was so confused. Why are you acting like this? He wanted to ask you so many questions and he wanted to figure you out but decided not to say anything.

He finishes cleaning the kitchen when he comes up to you, sitting on the couch across from you. With his legs wide and his hands clasped in between them, he slouches and stares at you while you eat.

You blow on your soup, thoroughly enjoying it, and look up to see him red eyes beaming at you.

“Uh, did you have a question? Or something?”

He wasted no time and immediately responded. “Who was that guy? I’m guessing you know him, right? That doesn’t just happen at random, you know.”

You reposition yourself, suddenly uncomfortable with our seating arrangement, and close your eyes while slowly inhaling through your nose. You had to tell him. You can’t just lie. I mean, you were good at it, but it seems like he genuinely wants to know. Fine, let’s give it a shot.

“You promise not to tell anyone? No one? Ever? Not a single soul? If you do I-”

“Just fucking tell me, jesus.”

You let out a sigh and set your bowl down on the table, finished.

“He is my ex.” Bakugou’s eyes widened. Ex? You were only 16, why would an ex do that? “Ex best friend, I mean.” You smile and let out a breathy laugh as you grab the hem of your gray hoodie to help fidget with your fingers.

He slowly went from confused and shocked to feeling tricked. He doesn’t like to be tricked. He’ll let it slide, this time.

“It’s a long story, something I don’t really want to get into right now, but I should be fine.”

“Fine? Have you seen your stomach? You feel terrible and I know it.”

“Seriously, Bakugou-kun, I’m good!” You let out a cute chuckle and put a bright smile on, even though you know he isn’t buying it.

“I’m sure. Now let’s get you back home before the hag gets back.”

“Hag?” You look at him in genuine confusion as he walks over to you, offering his arm to give you something to grip on. You refuse, and by now he should’ve seen this coming.

“Dammit, (Y/N), just take my fucking arm. It’s not that hard, just do it.”

You don’t want to get on his bad side, especially after your injured torso, so you let him help you by grabbing his left arm while he uses his left to grab the left side of your back to keep you balanced.

Standing up with you clinging on Bakugou’s arms, his chest and yours so close you can feel his body heat even through your sweatshirt. With you grabbing on his toned biceps and him holding up your elbows, you two make eye contact. You gaze at each other, looking into each eye, observing the little details in his eye. He did the same to you. His soft expression and small, opened mouth gazed at you in pure peculiarity. As he opens his mouth wider to ask what he’s been wondering all along, the front door swings open with Bakugou’s mother and father walking in.

“Katsukiiiii! Where are youuuuu! I have groceries!”

You both pull back, but keeping your grip on each other, while you both turn to look away.

“Katsuki! I swear to god if you are doing anything to that girl-”

“SHUT IT DAMN HAG WE’RE RIGHT HERE!”

Oh, that’s who he was talking about.

“Ohhh (Y/N), so nice to meet you, well, when you’re awake. Sorry you had to deal with this ungrateful little child-”

“STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE THAT!”

“I GET TO TALK ABOUT YOU HOW EVER I WANT NOW SIT YOUR ASS DOWN BEFORE I MAKE YOU!”

“YOU DON’T SCARE ME OLD HAG!”

“SAY THAT IN FIVE MINUTES WHEN I’M DONE BEATING YOUR ASS!”

Wow, should've seen that coming…

Bakugou almost drops you as he starts to walk to his mom with full fists. You didn’t even realize that his hands were digging into your arms and that he brought you up against his chest with your torso bending in a way that made your head stick out the side of his body. You wince and hiss in pain as you quickly push back and squeeze his arm, stealing his attention from his mom to you. He looks down at you and sees the pain in your face, so he gently pulls you back from him only slightly before you squeeze his arm again in pain.

“How much does it hurt?” Both him and his mom are worried, his dad just entering full of bags, almost blinding his eyesight. Bakugou’s mother quickly helps out her husband, leaving you and Bakugou in the living room alone. “Answer me, how much does it hurt?”

“Not that bad.” You start to sweat again, if Bakugou hadn’t fed you and wasn’t holding you up you’d probably fall unconscious to the floor. He lifts his head to look at the ceiling, rolling his eyes in annoyance as you lie to him again.

“I swear to God, (Y/N). Answer me honestly. How. Much. Does it. Hurt.” He articulates the last sentence in hopes to get it through your obviously thick skull.

You feel dizzy as you lean onto Bakugou, your vision getting blurry and head knocking into his chest. Your grip loosens as you finally lose consciousness and fall into his arms. And again, he catches you. Almost as if on instinct, he switches from his hands holding your elbows to his arms wrapping around your back, one of his hands catching your head from falling back too rough, and he kneels you down to try and pick you up.

TAGLIST [OPEN]: @jazzylove , @bakug0ush0e

send an ask^

#bnha #bnha series #series #mha #mha series #part 2 #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou headcanons

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut, what else is new?

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Mondays had been your days to meet Harry at his office, but now that he was working on his studio, you thought it would be nice to bring him and your dad some lunch. You were so happy it was almost May. The weather was starting to get really nice. You were able to go for runs outside on the days it didn’t rain.

“Hey, wanna come with me to the studio for lunch? I’m buying.” You say to Niall.

“Sure! It’ll be nice to get out for a bit. I’m sure your dad will love to see me.” He laughs and you shake your head at him.

You stop by a sandwich shop on your way, and head into the studio. You bite your bottom lip when you see Harry. He was use a nail gun to put some cabinets up for what would soon be a kitchen area. You dad was finishing grouting the tile. Harry steps down from the step stool and wipes his forehead of sweat. He was wearing a snap-back to help catch some of the sweat. He looks over at you and Niall and smiles.

“Oi, looks like it’s lunch time.” He extends a hand to help your dad up.

“Hi guys! It looks better and better every time I come here.” You hand them the sandwiches and give your dad a hug.

“Hi Niall.” Your dad shakes his hand. “Been too long.”

“I know, things have been crazy.”

“They’ve put some picnic benches out at the park across the street do you guys wanna eat outside? It’s so nice out.”

Everyone agrees and you head outside. Harry looked so good in his loose jeans and work-boots, you couldn’t get over it. He sits next to you, and Niall sits next to your dad.

“Everyone from New York has finally left, thank god.”

“That’s great!” Harry says, relieved Mark was finally gone.

“How are classes going, Y/N?” Your dad asks.

“Oh, they’re good. I’ll finish this one in a couple of weeks, and the next won’t start until June so I’ll a month to take a little break.”

“Your brother’s coming in Friday to help out, maybe we could all have dinner together after.”

“Sure! You both could come over, I can cook something up instead of going out.” You say. Harry puts his hand on your knee.

“That works.” You dad smiles. You knew he always preferred a home cooked meal.

“I could work from home that day and watch the baby if he wants to bring him in too.” Harry’s face lights up.

“I’ll run it by him. I’m sure his wife could use the night off.”

Niall distracted your dad for a few minutes so you could kiss Harry goodbye.

“How are you feeling today? You were a little wobbly yesterday…” You say quietly.

“Oh, I’m fine now.” He smiles. “Thanks for checkin’ in.” He kisses the top of your head, and goes back into the studio.

When he gets home later that night he’s exhausted. You had dinner ready to go, and he inhaled it.

“Jesus, Harry, you were hungry. Do you want a second helping?”

“No, thank you.” He rubs his eyes. “I need to go to bed, I’m so tired, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! Go, I’d rather you get your rest. I have homework to do anyways.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Well, maybe I could just rest on the sofa so I’m still hanging out with you.”

“If you wanna go to bed you can, really, it’s okay.”

“No.” He pouts. Oh no, you’re tried, grouchy boy was making an appearance. “M’gonna go put some sweats on and then I’ll come sit with you.” You nod and he walks out into the bedroom.

You grab your laptop and sit on the sofa. Yo start typing away at your forum post, and Harry comes out in just a pair of sweat pants. He plops down next to you and waits for you to finish. The second your laptop is on the coffee table he his is resting in your lap.

“Let me get a pillow, it’ll be more comfortable for your he-“

“No.”

“Harry.” You sigh. “Do you wanna just lay between my legs then?”

“Yes.”

You adjust so your back is against the arm rest, and Harry’s head is on your stomach. Your hands play with his hair and it didn’t take him too long to drift off. Times like this you think back to when you two first really cuddled together. He had had a long day at work and he asked you to lay with him. You had been on top of him at the time and you both fell asleep. That was when you knew you really felt safe with him. You sigh happily as you watch TV.

Friday rolls around, and your brother drops the baby off with you so he can meet your dad and Harry at the studio. You had a wonderful day watching him while getting some emails done. You never really got alone time with your nephew. You played with him for a little while, and then took him for a walk in his stroller.

You decided on making a meatless baked ziti for dinner. It was something everyone could enjoy, and easy enough to make. You whip up a big salad to go with it, and take the baby with you to the market quick so you can grab a baguette.

Harry sends you a few pictures of the progress they’ve made. The kitchen and Mariah’s office was entirely done. Next week they’d work upstairs to get Harry’s office situated. Then all he’d have to do is paint.

His social media was getting more and more hits thanks to you, and he was already booking out into July. You were so proud of him.

You send him a selfie or two with the baby and it makes him swoon. He couldn’t wait to have a baby with you some day.

Around 6PM you hear them come in through the door. You were sitting on the sofa feeding the baby. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head from loving his bubby. You had your eyes on him and you were humming.

“Hi guys.” You say smiling. “Dinner’s gonna be another ten minutes in the oven, everything else is on the table already.” You finish giving the baby his bubby and you sit him up so he’ll burp. He perks up when he sees your brother. “Is that your daddy, did you miss him?” You coo. Your brother smiles and takes him from you.

“How was he?”

“Perfect! He’s the easiest baby in the world.” You go over and kiss Harry on the cheek.

“M’just gonna wash up quick.”

Your dad was walking around. You realize it’s the first time he’s been over and inside your apartment.

“Dad, I’m sorry, let me show you around. You and Kyle can clean up in the guest bath.” You take the baby back from your brother.

Harry meets you in the kitchen and you hand him off to him so you can take the ziti out of the oven.

“Smells so good in here.” He says holding the baby with one arm. “Hey little guy, did you have a nice day with your auntie?” He boops his nose. You smile at the two of them.

“I got a baguette from the market.”

“Did you cut it up already?”

“Yes, and I saved you an end piece just how you like. Go sit down, I’ll bring this out.” Harry kisses you and then goes out to the dining area.

“I’ll take him, he’s fading, I’m gonna put him in the car seat so he can sleep.”

Your brother drags the seat over and places your nephew in it and his eyes slowly close. Once he’s settled, the four of you sit down to eat.

“You guys got so much done today. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, all the heavy stuff should be done next week, and then it’s off to painting.”

“Rachel’s gonna help Harry paint. You guys should see the color’s she’s picked out for the offices, it’s going to be beautiful.”

The chatter is nice and light around the table. You bring out some coffee and fruit for dessert.

“Y/N, when do you think you’ll have an official house warming?” Your brother asks.

“I’m not sure, we were thinking end of May so it would be warm enough to be able to go out on the balcony.” You point behind you.

“That’d be great. Do you guys have a grill or anything?”

“We have a little indoor one.” You look at Harry. “I didn’t even think of that. We need to get a table and some chairs for out there.”

“We could go to Lowe’s this weekend and check out the prices.”

“I’ve got some gift cards to there, hold on.” You dad takes out his wallet.

“Dad, you don’t have to-“

“I don’t mind.” He smiles. “Here, it hasn’t been used, but I can’t remember how much is on there.” He slides a card towards you.

“Thanks.” You smile.

Your brother and dad eventually leave. It was a great day and evening. You and Harry slump onto the sofa.

“You were cute when we got in.” He says drumming his fingers on your knee.

“What do you mean?” You giggle.

“Feedin’ the baby. It was cute. You were like hummin’ to him and stuff.”

“Harry…”

“What?”

“I know where this is going.”

“Where what is goin’? I can’t pay my beautiful, amazing, wonderful girlfriend a compliment all of a sudden?”

“Wow, so many descriptive words in one sentence.” You say sarcastically. “You see me with him, and then you have baby fever for like a week.”

“To be honest, I always have baby fever, I just don’t express it.” You laugh at him. “With me ownin’ my own business imagine how easy it’ll be for us someday. Your place has maternity leave, and then when you go back to work I could just bring him or her with me to work. I could have everything set up for them there. Then we’d come home and they’d be all excited to see their mummy.” You blink at him.

“Oh, so you’d get to spend all the time in the world with them?”

“I’d take ‘em to come visit you when I could, and you’d come visit us.”

“You know the maternity leave is actually really good. You get three months paid, and then you get another three months paid working from home. And then you can like choose to work half days and shit, it’s amazing. At least we wouldn’t need child care. My mom could come and help out like she does with my nephew.”

“They essentially give you six months off? That’s almost unheard of here.”

“I know, I’m telling you the CEO is incredible.”

“C’mere, come sit on me.” You giggle and crawl into his lap. He rests his hands on your hips, and rubs his thumbs over your lower stomach. “Can’t wait to put one in yeh some day.”

“Oh, Harry.” You swat a hand at his shoulder.

“What? You know I do, and then I’d get to watch your belly grow.”

“Right, because that’s every girl’s dream. To be littered with stretch marks, a big strip of hair, and for their belly buttons to disappear.”

“Stop, that doesn’t happen to everyone.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not as romantic as you make it seem. I’ll be ten times more hormonal. I may get to a point where I have to go on bed rest.”

“I’d just take care of you.”

“You have an answer for everything.” You lean down and kiss him. “I saw you bring your tool-belt in with you.”

“Jesus, do you have a fetish or somethin’?”

“Harry, you just look so sexy with it on, will you please go put it on?”

“It’s just the belt, the tools aren’t even it it.”

“So? C’mon, let’s roll play a little. You can be the handyman that’s come to fix something for me in the bedroom, and I’ll be the needy, unsatisfied housewife.”

“You would so easily cheat on your husband?”

“Harry…please don’t be cheeky right now.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go change.”

You wait for him anxiously and he comes back a few minutes later with a white t-shirt, jeans, and his tool belt on.

“The hat! Please put the snap-back on.” He sighs and goes back to get it.

“Happy now?”

“Yes!” You get up from the sofa and walk over to him. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Both of his eyebrows raise as you walk around him. “You see, my husband’s away on business and there are just some things a girl can’t take care of by herself.” You bite your lip and smile at him.

“That’s too bad. If I had a girl like you, I’d never leave yeh to do anything by yourself.” Your smile grows. You’re happy he’s willing to play along. “Show me what needs tendin’ to.”

“It’s in the bedroom, please follow me.” You giggle quietly. He follows you in. You tug at his collar and start kissing him.

“What if your husband comes home early?”

“He won’t, he’s too busy fucking his secretary.”

“What a fool.” He tilts your chin up and he kisses you again. “I’d take really good care of you if you were my wife.”

“Why not show me a little preview then?”

He steps back and takes his shirt off. You ogle his body.

“Jesus, Harry, you look-“ He puts his hand over your mouth.

“Can’t use my name, it ruins the illusion.”

“What should I call you then?”

“I don’t know, your handyman?”

“Okay, okay.” You clear your throat to get back into character. “My Mr. Handyman, you’re quite built.”

You reach your hands out to feel the muscles on his stomach, then his arms, and then his back. He smirks at the way you’re feeling him up. You walk back in front of him to face him.

“Haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Think I can fix that.”

He lifts you up and plops you down on the bed. He lifts your shirt off and unhooks your bra. He kneads your breasts his tongue slips into your mouth. You groan against him.

“Lay back.” You scooche further on the bed, lay back so he can undo your pants. He sees your lace, cheeky underwear. “Sorta naughty to be wearin’ this while your husband’s away.”

“Well, I’m a pretty naughty girl, Mr. Handyman.” You bat your eyelashes at him, and start to rub your clit over your panties. “Need someone to punish me.”

Harry’s face lights up. He undoes the tool belt, and lets it drop to the floor. He undoes his jeans and takes his boxers off. He gets on the bed and between your legs. He kisses your covered clit, and licks over your folds. He never really teased you like this, but then again, it wasn’t really him. He sucks on you through the material, and rubs his thumb over you. He grips your hips and flips you over. You get up on your knees and elbows. He slowly drags your soaked underwear off, and throws it on the floor.

He smacks your butt, not too hard. He did it the way he always did. You remember one time, early on, when he told you he’d smack you right on your clit, and you wondered if he was planning to do that.

“Hey, time out for a second.” You look over your shoulder at him. “I think we should have, like, a safe word, just in case one of us gets uncomfortable with the role play…” He says.

“Okay, should it be like a color or something?”

“How about yellow?”

“Okay, sure, yellow.”

“Alright…back to it then.” You giggle at him. You appreciated that he always seemed to think of everything. “So…uh, Mrs…Housewife, let’s take care of this problem you’ve been havin’.”

Harry grips your hips, and feel him lick from your clit to your folds. He hasn’t eaten you out from behind since god knows when. You grip at the comforter, loving the way it feels. He licks up dangerously close to your other hole and you flinch. He knows not to lick you there, he’s just testing the waters a bit. You were dripping wet, so whatever he was doing obviously felt good. He bites down onto one of your ass cheeks and sucks harshly. You gasp as your back arches. Harry had sort stopped leaving the really purple marks on you. He sits back and watches the color change on your skin.

He takes you and flips you onto your back. You look up at him and nod. He spreads your legs and lines himself up with you, thrusting in with a ton of force. He gauges the reaction on your face. He wants to have fun, not send you into a flash. He rubs your clit to soothe you a little while you reach up to grip at his shoulders.

He grabs one of your legs to put over his shoulder, and rocks in and out of you. He was hitting you nice and deep like you needed.

“Oh my god.” Your head rolls back into the mattress.

“Need this don’t you?”

“So bad.” You groan.

“Sit up on your elbows.” You raise an eyebrow at him, but you do as he says.

His hand trails up from your clit and rests on your stomach for a second. He swears he can feel himself going in and out of you. It slides up further and you think he’s just going to knead your breast, until it’s around your throat. He grips you, but not tightly, just resting it there.

“Handyman should use his hands, don’t you think?” You nod your head yes. “And you said you’ve been naughty, so…I think the best thing I can do is choke you a little.” He drops your leg from his shoulder. His thrusts continue, but he moves around in a circle. “Can I do that?”

“Yes.” You say in a whisper.

His thumb rubs over the front of your throat lightly, and then he gets a better grip on you. His other hand rubs your clit while he rocks in and out of you. He lets you lay back down all the way and you wrap your legs around his waist. He applies a little more pressure and watches you contort under him. Your cheeks had a deep blush over them.

Usually you were the one to choke him, but he was in full control tonight. You didn’t mind it really. After pegging him last weekend he deserved to have a little of the power back. Plus, you just like the way his strong hand felt around you. You were feeling a little light headed, but in a good way. His other hand rubs harshly on your clit, and you know your end is near.

He feels you tighten around his cock and he fucks you faster. You start panting and gasping, but he doesn’t let up. He hits your g-spot and rubs your clit just at the right place and you feel yourself release. Your back arches off the bed, and he rubs your clit the entire time, rocking in and out of you. He lets go of your throat and you take in as much air as you can.

“Come in mouth.”

“What?”

“Please, god, come in my mouth.” You groan.

Harry lets out a moan as he pulls out of you. You prop yourself up on your elbows and open your mouth for him. He angles himself, give himself a few quick pumps and comes. He comes in your mouth, down your chin, and on your chest. He made a mess of you. He goes to get off of you but your grab his face with one of your hands. You make eye contact with him as you swallow what actually got into your mouth. You lick over your chin, and then you scoop up what you can from your chest onto your finger, and suck on your finger. His mouth falls open while he watches you.

You go to speak, but you burst out laughing instead. Harry sits there, straddling you, very confused.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You say, still laughing. “I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like that before.” His shoulders fall with relief.

“I didn’t hurt your little neck did I?” He leans in to inspect you. “Shit…”

“What?”

“Well, you can kind of see where my rings indented, should’ve taken ‘em off.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t full commit to your character.” You giggle.

“You don’t care if someone sees this?”

“It’ll fade. It’s probably less noticeable than a hickey. Speaking of which, I can’t wait to see the nasty one you left on my ass.”

“Hey, that wasn’t me that was the handyman.”

“Mhm.” You lean up and kiss him. “Was it fun?”

“Yeah…we could do it again sometime.” He gets off of you and follows you to the bathroom. You gasp when you see the bruise on your ass.

“Jesus, Harry…”

“S’not that bad.” He sighs. “We’ve been doin’ a lot of new stuff lately.”

“Guess so.” You shrug as you start to wash your face, having thrown your hair up in a bun. He leans against the sink counter as you apply your face-wash.

“Have you been bored with anything, is that why you’ve wanted to try so much?”

“Bored?!” You rinse off and pat your face dry. “Bored?!” You repeat. His face was stone cold. “Harry, how could you possibly think that? I love the way we have sex. From the way you stretch me out, every time with you is like the first time.” You take your hair out of the bun and shake it. “We’ve been together almost nine months, I just feel really close and comfortable with you. Enough to try some things out that I never had before.”

“So you never role played with anyone, ever?”

“Never!” You start to brush your teeth and he does the same. “Hold on, lemme pee.” He crosses his arms and looks in the other direction. “See! Super comfortable with each other.” He looks at you and smirks as you flush the toilet. You wash your hands and he uses the toilet next. “I was no virgin when we met, Harry, but I’ve had so many first with you.” He follows you out of the bathroom. “I’ve never been this close with a boyfriend before.” You both get into bed. “I feel like because I can just be myself with you, I’ve had the freedom to discover some new things that I like.” He lays his head on your chest. “I could never be bored, in any aspect of our relationship. Every day is like a new adventure.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course! We don’t have to role play again if you didn’t like it.”

“S’not that I didn’t like it, I just don’t know how to pretend to be some macho dude.”

“You just look so fucking hot when you wear that stuff.”

“And I’ll gladly wear it for you anytime.”

“If you could role play as anything, what would you wanna do? I mean, we got to do one of my fantasies, what’s one of yours?” He sits up to look at you.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! We should do what you wanna do too, it’s not all about me.”

“Okay, the butt stuff was something we both wanted, whether you believe that or not. So you can stop feeling guilty.”

“I don’t fe-“

“Yes you do, I can tell. We’ll do it again, trust me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways, I know you don’t wanna fuck in your office, so we could just use the loft, but I’ve had this…fantasy of you being like this…I don’t know CEO or something, somebody hire up, and I’m like your….assistant or something.” You hadn’t expected Harry’s fantasy of you to be so dominant. You were intrigued.

“Please, go on.”

“And well…there’s like all this tension between us right? Because, you can’t fuck your assistant, that’s against the rules. And I feel the tension too, but I can’t fuck my boss.” You bite your inner cheek to try not to laugh. This was very well thought out. “So, like, here’s the scene, so there’s one night we’re working late. You’re crazy overworked.” You nod. “And then I’m there, and I’m like you know what you need? To get fucked. Oh, I forgot to mention, you’re mean to everyone but me. So, I’m like you need to get fucked.”

“And how do you get me to agree to it?”

“I come in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, and I’m like let’s take a break.”

“Okay.”

“And then, I say you look tense, I could rub your shoulders. And you’re a little buzzed from the wine, so you roll with it, and-“

“There’s a lot of build up here.”

“Shh, I’m getting to it. So then, I’m like I can’t really get at you, let’s take your jacket off Miss Y/L/N, and you’re like okay. Then when I massage you skin to skin you start moaning, and it just escalates from there.”

“Oh it does?”

“Mhm, I fuck you on the desk, and then we have to keep it a secret. We say it was a one time thing, but we don’t mean it.”

“And you just came up with this elaborate fantasy all on your own?”

“Well…mostly…some…one of my romance novels sort of had a similar plot. But man, thinking of you like that, it really gets me going.”

“So even though I’m the CEO, you’re still the one to ultimately seduce me?”

“Yeah, you’re too much of a goodie goodie to break the rules.” He smirks.

“Well shit, guess I’ll just have to surprise you with that sometime.”

“You’d be into all that?”

“Would you wear your glasses?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah, I’d be into all of that.” He beams at you.

“I love you, so much. You are so the girl for me.” He chuckles and kisses you all over your face.

“I love you too, doll.”

He lays back down on your chest, and you play with his hair while you continue with your pillow talk. Eventually you both drift off. Harry was the perfect guy for you. Sure you had your ups and downs, but what couples didn’t? Every day you felt so lucky to be with him, but you were feeling that way now more than ever.

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles x rader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fic #they be tryin all sorts of shit lately #i literally black out while im writing #pls if you reblog leave tags im so soft #come hang in my ask box!

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