#but sunflowers work well for her i think
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Hi bard
Your ocs are now flowers in a bouquet. Tell me about it/them.
hi sleepy!!!!!
Enna would be a daisy, cause they're meant to symbolize hope, and also she's very daisy-y to me, I'm not really sure why, but she is.
Redari would be snow drops, because they show up in the middle of winter when by rights there shouldn't be any flowers there, but they are there and it makes you happy because you know something good is coming soon, and that reminds me of his character a lot. Also, I saw this ask, and immediately thought: redari. snowdrops.
Anne would be marigolds. Cause they're bright and orange and fire-y but they've also got a lot of association with grief and they're. I don't know. She seems very marigold-y.
Anastrannia would be sunflowers, cause there's something about her and Redari having this whole big deal with shadows but her being a sunflower that I really like
#asks#sleepyowlwrites#i went through like 4 different ideas for ana before settling on sunflowers#bluebells and daffadils and black eyed susans#but sunflowers work well for her i think#enna helder kromlin#anne helder kromlin#anastrannia galendel#redari galendel#wip: frost & fire
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âsunflowers or peonies?â
âawe, nanami! iâm flatteredââ
âtheyâre not for you,â nanami says flatly. âyou can buy your own.â
shoko squints down at the man lying on her exam table, arm held up and behind his head. âiâm quite literally stitching you back together, you know.â
the blond thinks bitterly on what had landed him in her infirmary in the first place, injured and likely having to reschedule dinner tonight. itâs already well past the time heâd planned on picking you up, and the table heâd reserved at the new restaurant in roppongi has likely been given away.
heâs dreading calling to tell you, his heart already twinging at the idea of letting you down.
shoko stitches him up neatly, cleaning and covering it up with a layer of bandages. she offers him a hand to help him sit up, but he bypasses it to plant his palm against the cot, pushing himself up with a groan.
she rolls her eyes, peeling her gloves off and pulling her mask down, tossing them both into the trash. âclean and dress it at least twice a day. no sudden movements of strenuous activity for at least a week. if you ruin my work, iâll put you on bedrest.â
she digs through her cabinets as he awkwardly pulls his shirt back on. his mind drifts to you as he does so. heâd lost his phone in the fight, so he hadnât been able to tell you about cancelling.
he wonders if the pout on your lips is painted your lips that shade of red youâd been wearing when heâd first met you. wonders if youâre waiting wearing the dress heâd gifted you last week.
heâd really wanted to see you in that dress.
nanami sighs heavily as he does up the buttons, prompting shoko to glance over her shoulder at him.
âwhatâs wrong with you?â she asks, setting a small bottle of painkillers on the tray table next to him.
âiâm missing an important dinner,â he grumbles, wondering if just a bundle sunflowers or peonies from the small stall outside is enough. he should order you a proper bouquet from a shop. perhaps he can also book you a massage orâ
a knock at the door interrupts his spiralling.
âoh!â shoko suddenly gasps. she reaches up, brushing a few stray hairs from his forehead and fixing it as best she can.
âwhat are you doing?â he asks, genuinely confused in this moment.
âyouâll see,â she simply grins, sending him a wink. then, âcome in!â
the door to the infirmary opens to revealâŠyou.
âkento,â you breathe, the quiet click of your heels echoing through the empty room as you quickly walk towards him.
heâs shocked, but lets you carefully wrap your arms around him, cradling his head against your chest.
but before he knows it heâs holding onto you too, breathing in the deep, sweet scent of your perfume and focusing on the steady beat of your heart.
âwhat are you doing here?â he asks once you finally release him, taking your hands in his.
âshoko called me,â you tell him. âapparentlyâŠapparently iâm your emergency contact.â
his face is suddenly hot with embarrassment. heâd honestly forgotten about that. he hadnât even realized heâd done it when yaga had asked him to update his information with the school. your name had been the first and only name to pop into his mind.
âsorry,â he apologizes quickly, dropping your hands. he jumped the gun, didnât he? youâve only been dating for six months⊠âi should have asked you first butââ
but no one knows me better than you.
a soft sigh slips from your lips as you sit next to him, with a gaze so reverent that it strips him to the bone. âi love you, kento. i will be your emergency contact as long as you want me to be.â
he whispers the words back to you, suddenly shy.
sometimes nanami lets himself slip a little too far into his own head, overthinking and a little insecure. but youâre always there, ready to coax him back into the light.
âyou look beautiful,â he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. heâs seen you in a lot of dresses, each one making him weak in the knees. but this dressâŠthis one makes it a little hard for him to breathe.
âwell, you still owe me a date,â you tell him, helping him up off the cot. âwe could go to the ramen place across from my apartment.â
he wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers with his. âiâd go anywhere with you.â
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sunflowers
pairing: bakugou katuski x f! reader contains: childhood frenemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining status: standalone, one-shot, completed wc: 17840
note: canon-compliant but i bend it; early childhood and then up to season 3. also cross-posted to ao3.
summary: there you stand at the beginning of the world, with you and your sunflowers; your lovely liar's smile.
The first time you meet Bakugou Katsuki, you are six-turning-seven, and you remember it well. Not just because itâs the first day of school, or even that itâs your birthday. Rather, you remember it because of him, and though you think you would rather die than admit it, there is some part of you†a more rational part†that can temper itself down to acknowledge the fact.
You remember it well, because that morning, your mother makes sure to doll you up extra pretty. She dons you in a frilled dress like it is your armor, taking extra care with your hair, its bows, and she does: so much that there is an extra skip to your step as you walk. You donât just feel pretty, you know you are; a work of art atop a work of art. But you still make sure to say your thank yous to all the unfamiliar faces that compliment you with gummy smiles and a not-so-quiet, conspiratorial grin. âItâs my birthday!âÂ
You remember the way your cheeks hurt from forcing the wideness of it, the way you think it has started to sound like a mantra. You remember smiling, nonetheless, at his friend, as he wishes you a happy birthday! in return†you are smiling at his friend, and not him.
You remember it well, because the first time you ever meet him, he looks you up and down, clad in your careful curls and prettiest dress†and dares to call you ugly.Â
If you were anyone else, you mightâve taken the words like a physical blow. Already, your new friends are tensing for the inevitable confrontation. âYou canât just say that to her,â Sueko says, her eyes already narrowing in a glare.
âAnd who the hell are you, extra?â The crimson-eyed boy scowls right back.Â
The other girl wilts a bit, but her glare remains set.
You decide, right there and then, that she is your new best friend.Â
You smile. If you were anyone else, you mightâve taken the words like a physical blow. But you donât just feel pretty, you know you are; a work of art atop a work of art. So you only give him your kindest smile, because your mother told you to play nice in the morning, as she brushed out your hair. You make sure to give him a once over, glancing down, and then up.Â
âItâs okay!â Your eyes curve, ingratiatingly polite; ingratiatingly sweet. âSome people are just born blind. And stupid.â
âHAH?â His reaction is exactly what you hoped for, and itâs almost too easy. âWHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLINGâ€âÂ
The slight quirk of your mouth is amused, but you only turn, pointedly, to your new best friend. âAny chance youâre free this weekend? Letâs hang out.âÂ
She stutters an answer, eyes darting between you, and the blond you know is seething behind you, if the glare heâs practically boring into the back of your head means anything.
You tilt your head to the side. A little inquiry, a little push. âSo?â
Hands slam down on your desk, cutting out her squeaked yes. You jump a little at the sound, your eyes widening†both a little bit at the sound, and how close his face suddenly is. All of a sudden, youâre glad you didnât call him ugly right back†it would have sounded petty, after all, and almost certainly would have bit you right in the foot, considering how this crimson-eyed boy is so clearly not.
âIâm talking to you.â Well. You think, heâd probably be a great deal prettier if wasnât glaring down at you, face contorted in what seems like half snarl, half scowl.Â
His friend adds, a little bit placatingly. âBakugou-sanâs not stupid. Heâs really smart, actually, always been top of the class. Heâs really cool!âÂ
You note the way the class eyes him, the way the blondâs eyeing the door. He grunts. âI also have twenty-twenty vision.â His chin raises, arrogance in the set of his features, a bit calmer at the praise, but also a touch quieter, almost a bit wary.Â
The door opens. He glances back, just as a man walks in, old enough that you assume that he is your teacher.Â
It takes effort to keep the shit-eating grin from spreading across your features. âAre you sure?â You ask instead, completely straight-faced. ( You should really consider acting, you think. Youâre practically a genius! ) You simper, a hand covering your mouth. âCouldâve fooled me.â Â
Itâs almost too easy, you think, the way he explodes, literally.Â
âYOU WANNA FIGHT, EXTRA?â Miniature blasts pepper the table, and you might have thought it intimidating, if itâs not for the way your sensei is stalking over, looking almost as murderous as the boy himself. âIâLL KILL YOU!âÂ
You coo a little, fearless with the backing of your newfound supporter. âYouâre really scary. Thatâs illegal, you know.âÂ
He opens his mouth. But then†âBakugou. Seeing as itâs the first day, you wonât be getting detention.â His mouth closes mutely. You grin a little at the way heâs being pulled away from your desk, fingers still clutching at the edges of it†by the scruff of his collar, and somewhat like a dog, you think.
His eyes flash, a little bit angry, a little bit dangerous. He points one grubby finger in your direction. âShe started it!âÂ
The sensei also pins you with a stern look. âThe next time this happens, the both of youâll be staying after class to clean, as detention. Am I clear?âÂ
You gape at both of them. Itâs half genuine, half not. You think this verdict is a little unfair. The boy grins, smug.
A complaint is on the tip of your tongue, then you see the senseiâs expression: deadpan, tired, and unsympathetic. You sober up, frowning a little.Â
âOkay. Sorry, sensei. Iâll try.âÂ
The crimson-eyed boy is still glaring at you, a little victorious, a little smug, but with a gleam in his eyes. This is war, they seem to say, silent and from across the room.
Little does he know, it has been, ever since the moment he decides to look you up and own, clad in your careful curls and prettiest dress†and calls you ugly.
You blow him a kiss.
He jolts. The face he makes is obviously a frown of disgust.Â
The sensei straightens. You smile ingratiatingly, turning away.
This is war, his eyes seem to promise, and really, you canât help but agree.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
Your revenge is served not even three days later, on a Saturday evening, and you think it is the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.
You have your father to thank for it, actually. The boy, whose name you learn is Bakugou Katsuki, is something of a mini celebrity at your school.Â
This means that the surface level things are easy to find†he has anger issues, an explosive Quirk, and is smart, consistently at the top of the class. ( You frown a little when they tell you. These are all things you already know, and the only new information†he likes spicy food†isnât helpful in the slightest. ) But this also means that, knowing his temper, there are very few willing to actively take your side, and much more openly against you. You are the new girl, the outlier, and though he canât quite make you an outcast†you and your horde of girl-followers ( bought with your motherâs fashion, your fatherâs wallet, and your pure, sunny disposition )†he has enough friends, or rather sycophants, that will ignore you in the hallways, or mutter names at you.
The boy in question doesnât, though.
He storms up to your desk the second day. You are chatting with your friends, as he slams his hands on the desk and snarls: âFight me.âÂ
Catching your pencil just before it falls, you frown up with him. âWhat ever happened to: hi, hello, how are you?âÂ
âHi, hello, how are you.â He sneers. âScared?âÂ
âNo, and my answer is no.â
His scowl deepens. âSo you are scared.âÂ
âIâm a healer.â You lift your chin in outrage, affronted. âIâm not violent.â
âNah. Youâre just an extra.âÂ
Internally, you seethe. First ugly, and now an extra. You have never been called such things in your life. You open your mouth, a retort on the tip of your tongue.Â
The sensei walks in.Â
It dies in your throat, Bakugouâs face splits into a shit-eating grin. He turns away, head held high; arrogant and condescending, having won this encounter by a mile.Â
Wrath boils in your ears, but you tamp it down, expressionless. Your pencils are carefully aligned, your notebook opened with just a little more force than necessary. Internally, you promise yourself, heâll get whatâs coming to him. You will make sure of it.Â
You get your chance soon enough on a Saturday evening, dolled up again in a dress your mother painstakingly picked out for you, your hair pressed into careful curls. Your father had told you: your family had been invited to dinner by a friend heâd met at work, and that they have a son in the same grade as you, in the same school.Â
You had shrugged. So long as thereâs a chance their son would be willing to join your Anti-Bakugou Society ( consisting only of you at the moment ), you donât particularly mind.
âPlay nice,â Your mother reminds you now, as you stand before the door; your father knocking on it. There is a bouquet of sunflowers clutched in your hands, matching the color of your dress, and you only scrunch your nose up a little at her.Â
âIâm always nice.âÂ
Your mother doesnât get a chance to respond, because then thereâs a†Katsuki, get the door!†along with an answering†âSHUT UP, OLD HAG! IâM GETTING IT!â†and then, you blink.
The name sounds rather familiar. The voice, too.Â
The door opens. You stare, wide-eyed, as a head of blond hair enters your vision, familiar and crimson-eyed.
Heâs just as stunned as you are, as you watch, with no small amount of delight, as he takes one look at you, and then the sunflowers you hold in your hands, and sneezes.Â
Christmas has come early, you think. âKatsuki! This is your house?â You step a little closer, a sickly sweet grin on your face.Â
He dodges the sweep of your bouquet. A pity, you think, but you are successful: he only sneezes all the harder.
You raise an eyebrow. âAre you⊠by any chance allergic to sunflowers?âÂ
Your mother gasps, tearing the bouquet from your hands. She had been the one to pick them out.
He doesnât need to respond for you to know the answer: as soon as theyâre taken away from his immediate vicinity, his sneezes lessen. Â
Your mother had been the one to pick them out, and you had disliked the way they looked. But you decide, there and in the moment, that they are your favorite flower.Â
He straightens. His nose is still red, and there is murder in his eyes. âWhy the hell are you here?âÂ
His mother sweeps in, pinching him by the ear. âYou will not address our guests that way.â She hisses, before looking up at the three of you, apologetic. âIâm sorry. Iâve been trying to teach him manners, I swearâ€â
âNo worries at all, Bakugou-san.â Your mother says, correcting herself at the other womanâs oh, just call me Mitsuki! She pinches your ear in turn. âThis one is much the same. A righteous demon, she is.â You narrow your eyes a little at her.Â
The blonde laughs, and the way she ruffles her sonâs hair is terribly fond. âThatâs just part of their charm, I suppose.âÂ
He hisses up at her. She hisses right back.Â
You love her, you think.
âOh, where are my manners!â She straightens, blinking. âPlease come in. Masaruâs in the kitchen, just setting upâ€â
Your parents walk in first, complimenting the decor. Mitsuki beams at them, and down at you. âMasaru tells me the two of you go to the same school,â She says. âHave the two of you met before?âÂ
You say: âYes!â at the same time he gives a flat, but resounding, âNo.âÂ
He glares daggers into the side of your head. You grin. âWeâre in the same class, and heâs my best friend!â You exclaim, the lie rolling easily off your tongue.
âNo the fuck Iâm not.âÂ
âLanguage, Katsuki!â Mitsuki reaches for his ear again, her face the picture of delight. âIâm so happy youâre finally making friends!âÂ
âWEâRE NOT FRIENDS!âÂ
She gasps, affronted, looking like she wants to tear him a new one. You smile. Your parents look on, utterly lost. âItâs okay, Mitsuki-san. Thatâs just how Katsuki-kun shows his love. I donât mind.â
âOh, you angel.â And from the look on her face, one might have thought she truly believed it. She whips around to glare at her son. He glares back. âI donât know how she puts up with you, but youâd better treat her well.â You grin at him from behind, terribly smug, and terribly victorious.Â
She turns around, and your smile is pretty again, pleasant and soft.
Mitsuki coos at you. You think the dichotomy between the way she talks to the both of you is like heaven and earth. âCome over to our house more often. Iâd love to have you over anytime!âÂ
âHAH? WHATâ€âÂ
âWe wouldnât want to trouble you, Mitsuki-san.â Your mother says, assertively. She is shooting you the look, the one that means she knows what youâre up to.Â
âOh, itâs no trouble at all!â She dismisses the statement with a wave of her hand. âKatsuki has few enough friends as it is.âÂ
Your father laughs, ever the mediator. âWeâll have to invite you over next time as well. We live just down the street.â He brightens. âActually, seeing as theyâre classmates, they could maybe walk together in the mornings?âÂ
Your motherâs grip tightens around his arm.Â
There is a wicked grin on your face. âIâd love that!â
The boy in question doesnât even get the chance to protest, because Mitsukiâs already chirping. âItâs settled, then!âÂ
You think: it doesnât even matter if he emerges victorious in all the encounters you have after this, because when the adults turn, you get to stick your tongue out at him.
The look on his face is so quietly violent, so blatantly murderous, as you wave your still sunflower-smeared hands in his face, that you think you will remember the sweetness of this victory for the rest of your life.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
Your relationship does not change in the slightest after that.
Mitsuki invites you over to her house once a week, and your parents do the same. The adults do their own thing, and you do yours: trying your best to annoy the daylights out of your newfound nemesis, and he only does the same to you. Youâll make fun of his All Might merchandise, the ones displayed proudly in his room, and heâll make fun of your Recovery Girl ones, the ones you have so painstakingly collected†sheâs not nearly as popular of a Hero. Heâll sneer: âSo thatâs why you used to kiss everyone you healed?âÂ
Youâll sneer right back, cringing internally at the reminder of that phase, though you are still Recovery Girlâs number one fan. âMy Quirkâs literally activated through touch. Youâd be lucky if I poked you with a ten-foot pole, let alone heal you with a kiss.âÂ
Heâll make a face. âEugh. You wish, idiot. Iâd never want to kiss an extra like you.âÂ
The two of you have learned to act relatively civil with adults in the house. You smile up at him, sickly sweet. âYeah. This extra is an idiot, and she definitely didnât score higher than you on the last history test.âÂ
By one point, but still.Â
He snorts, though you can tell the reminder irks him. âThatâs only âcause you sucked up to sensei like, three classes in a row.â
You sniff in derision. âI did not.â Sure, itâs true: youâd definitely been a little more active in class, and answered more questions than usual, but youâd studied for it! Youâd studied a lot!
He sneers back. âDid too.âÂ
You have learned to imitate the murderous glare he likes to level you with, and the first time you mimic it, you grin a little as his eyes widen, stunned.
The two of you are civil for the most part, though, at each otherâs houses. His mother would tear him a new one if she heard him acting anything but†( she has )†and you think you like his parents too much to ruin your relationship over something as trivial as this.Â
School is a different story, however, as are your walks in the mornings. âShut the fuck up,â Heâll snarl at you.
âBut Katsuki-kun!â Youâll coo right back, using the tone you know he hates. âI havenât even started talking yet!âÂ
Heâll scowl at you. Youâll simper right back. Heâll speed up, and you do not slow, nor do you attempt to match his pace, because you know: if you slow, he will too. Always keeping that same distance, and if you speed up†well, youâd tried that once. And youâd kept pace with him for all of two seconds, before heâd sped up in turn, until the both of you were practically sprinting to school.Â
You lose, of course. You have never run a day in your life.
( You start training right after. )
You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You flop on his bed, making sure to crinkle his carefully-pressed sheets, forcing him to his desk during one of your so-called âhangoutsâ and âstudy sessionsâ†Mitsukiâs words, not either of yours, but there are textbooks in front of the both of you, so that is good enough. You study harder than you ever have before, and rub every one of your small victories in his face, and he studies like a demon in return†( even though heâs never needed to study in his life )†until the both of you are neck and neck, with perfect grades in every subject. You buy everything sunflower-colored, sunflower-shaped, and tack sunflower stickers onto every surface you can see, pinning some cute ones to your backpack.
( Your mother picked out the flowers, but you are the one that held them, and you were also the one to decide, there and then, that these were your favorite flowers in the world. )
You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You see his face more often than anything else, and he calls you an idiot when you tell him about the fictional boys you think are cute. Well, you donât care. You tell him about them anyways, because you are bored and Kuroo-kun looked particularly stunning in the episode the other day†only because you are bored and there is nothing else to do, or so you tell yourself. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends†you donât think you are, at least, because he has never confirmed it, even if he does seem somewhat tolerant of you; punches your pseudo-stalker in the face for you, and carries you piggyback on the way home, crying all the while.Â
âYouâre ruining my shirt,â He grouses. âStop crying. Iâm literally more injured than you are.âÂ
You sniff. âIâm not kissing you better.âÂ
He snarls. âCome anywhere near me with your mouth and Iâll blow your face off.âÂ
âYou want it so bad it makes you look stupid.â You tell him, and he tenses beneath you, but you only press your cheek to his neck, and think, heal.
The pain of the bruises lances through you, and you feel the way he relaxes.
You droop. âOnwards, steed.âÂ
âI will literally drop you.âÂ
âI just healed you. Iâm tired.âÂ
âNo one fucking asked you to.âÂ
He doesnât make good on his promise, though, and eventually, you sigh a little into his neck.
âWhat.âÂ
âNothing.âÂ
âWhat, dumbass.âÂ
You hum, a little absentminded. âYouâre going to UA, right?âÂ
âYeah. Why?âÂ
âOh, I was thinking of applying for the healer understudy openings.â You shrug. âDunno if I can get in, though.âÂ
âYou will.â His certainty surprises you.Â
You smile. âDidnât know you believed in me so much, Katsuki-kun.â Your head flops back onto his shoulder. âWill you still walk with me in the mornings, then?âÂ
âAfter school, too. Even if you donât get in.âÂ
You shift to blink up at him in surprise.Â
He clicks his tongue. You donât think youâve ever seen him look this uncomfortable.
âWho the fuck elseâs gonna punch shitty stalkers for you?â
You donât think youâve ever felt like this before, like the sun cresting upon the horizon, lighting up like a dawn inside your chest. You laugh at the feel of it. âAre you sure you woke up on the right side of the bed today? Besides, you donât even know where Iâd be going.â You reach up to pinch him on the cheek.Â
He jerks away, the look on his face disgusted.
âThen Iâll teach you to fight.âÂ
You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends†he is tolerant of you, he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, he walks with you before school, and he walks with you after. He lets you flop on his bed, lets you push him to the desk, wrinkles his nose at you when you tell him about a boy that was cute, and calls your friends dumb when you tell him about something they said that was funny. You weasel his birthday out of Mitsuki, and get him that All Might merch you know heâll like. Thereâs some Recovery Girl merch left on your windowsill the day of yours. He laughs when you try a bite of his food for the first time and cough instantly after, your face aflame. What the hell is this? You hiss, and he grins, telling you itâs real food, and that youâre just weak. He never calls you his friend, but he believes in you and your dream, and promises to walk you to and from school anyways, even if you do not attend the same one.Â
( Thatâs just how Katsuki-kun shows his love, you tell Mitsuki-san, once upon a time, and though you are not sure if it is love, you think: you do not mind it. )
This is how your relationship is, and how it remains, until the end of the second last year of middle school, right before the both of you enter UA.
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You are asleep at your desk when you are jumpscared awake.Â
ïżœïżœUA? That national school? Isnât their acceptance rate really low?â Someone in your class is asking.Â
âThatâs exactly why you guys are just extras!â You roll your eyes as the ash-blond jumps straight atop his desk. âI aced the mock test! Iâm the only one at this school who could possibly get into UA. Iâll definitely surpass All Might and become the top hero!âÂ
This is not the first time youâve heard this tirade. Sueko nudges you, quietly. âHey. Didnât you say you were applying for one of their healer slots?âÂ
âOh, yeah.â The sensei glances down at his list. âMidoriya wanted to go to UA as well, right? And someone elseâŠâ You tense.
The class bursts into uproarious laughter, and it seems you are temporarily saved.Â
âHuh? Midoriya? No way! You canât get into the Hero course by just studying!â
The green-haired boy stammers. âTh-they got rid of the rule! Thereâs just no precedentâŠâÂ
You roll your eyes at the sound of familiar explosions. âHuh? Deku! Youâre below the rejects! Youâre quirkless! How can you even stand in the same ring as me?â
âNo, wait! Kacchan! Itâs not like Iâm trying to compete with you or anything! Believe me!â He falters âItâs just that itâs been my goal ever since I was little! I wonât know unless I tryâŠâ  Â
âWhat do you mean, unless you try? Youâre Quirkless!âÂ
You slam your textbook down with a little more force than usual, and the whole class turns to you in surprise. âHe has a dream that he dares to try for,â you say, coolly and careful. âIsnât that enough?âÂ
âAnd what the hell would you know about that?âÂ
Disbelief rushes through you, and you turn to look him squarely in the eye. The class tenses, and his own eyes widen. It has been a while since youâve challenged him like this directly, whether in school or otherwise.Â
Sueko pipes up, unhelpfully, from beside you, as if he wouldnât know. âSheâs also applying for UA.âÂ
You donât get the chance to glare at her, because your sensei continues the thought. âOh, yes, thatâs right! You were the last student applying to UA! The healer routes are notoriously difficult†howâs that coming along?âÂ
âAh, I applied to some hospitals for volunteering, but I donât know if they accept middle-schoolers,â You laugh.Â
Your sensei nods, in support, but also a little condescendingly. âWell, itâs also a very difficult path, so donât beat yourself up about it too much, yeah?âÂ
The smile on your face feels a little bit painful, a little bit stretched.Â
You are distracted for the rest of that day. So out of it, in fact, that when the sensei calls upon you, his favorite student, you take all of five seconds to respond†blinking, first, then glancing up, with a: âSorry, what was the question?â You are so out of it that you bump your hip into your own desk as you move past for lunch, wincing at the twinge of it, and you are so out of it that you forget your pencil case when you leave after class, and have to go back to get it.
âBelieve that youâll be born with a Quirk in your next life, and take a last chance dive off the roof!âÂ
You know that voice. You pause. But then, the blast of familiar explosions.Â
Before your hands, the door slams open.Â
You donât know what you were expecting. Bakugou and Midoriya both, obviously, and you suppose you should have known his two lackeys would have been there, too. They turn from their face-off, and your glare is sharp and terrible. âSo what if heâs Quirkless?â You snap, storming over to grab the green-haired boy by the wrist. âAt least he has a dream. At least he dares to try. Thatâs more than I can say for the two of you.âÂ
âStay out of this,â The blond snarls, a warning.Â
You are not entirely a good person. You lie as you please, wielding the power of your motherâs fashion, your fatherâs wallet, and do things entirely for your own amusement, uncaring of the aftermath. You know Midoriya, or rather, you know of him, and how he is a frequent target of Bakugouâs scathing remarks. At first, you had assumed heâd just been one of the people that disliked you, but it had become increasingly evident that he was just one of the people that didnât dare to brave the blondâs wrath. And you are not entirely a good person, because you just didnât care. Not to talk to him, not to stand up for him, not if he hadnât even tried to for you.
You are not entirely a good person yourself, but even so, you know that there are lines that should not be crossed.Â
You lift your chin, and say, quietly. âApologize.âÂ
âHah?â He tilts his head. âAnd why the hell should I? Why the hell are you defending him?âÂ
You feel incredulous. âWhat does that have anything to do with it?â You donât see the way his eyes flicker down to where you are holding the green-haired boy, by his wrist. âThere are things that you should never, ever, say to a person.â His eyes narrow, but thereâs an irrational anger within you, a disbelief. âYouâre literally trying to become a Hero. How can you, an applicant of UA, who hopes to become one of the best heroes in the world, tell someone to kill themselves, and not think thereâs anything wrong with it?âÂ
âWho the fuck do you think you are?â Little explosions are escaping his hands, in the uncontrolled way they do when heâs furious and unaware of them.Â
You think Midoriya makes a pained sound, what with the way your hands are clenching, angry and white. Heal. A sting pulses through you, and you drop his wrist, but your eyes are flashing. âYouâre being an ass. Apologize.â
âYou donât tell me what to do.âÂ
You lift your chin. âIf you value our friendship in the slightest, then yes, I do.â The vehemence of your words stuns you a bit, and the blond recoils, as if he has been physically struck.Â
You think you have won, for all of a moment, and then he scoffs.
âYeah, right. What friendship? The one you lied to my mom about and said that we had? That friendship? The one that doesnât exist? Wonât exist?âÂ
His sneer is not harsh, but the breath that leaves you is shaky.
You do not hear his next words.
( You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You flop on his bed, making sure to crinkle his carefully-pressed sheets, forcing him to his desk during one of your so-called âhangoutsâ and âstudy sessionsâ†Mitsukiâs words, not either of yours, but there are textbooks in front of the both of you, so that is good enough. You study harder than you ever have before, and rub every one of your small victories in his face, and he studies like a demon in return†( even though heâs never needed to study in his life )†until the both of you are neck and neck, with perfect grades in every subject. You buy everything sunflower-colored, sunflower-shaped, and tack sunflower stickers onto every surface you can see, pinning some cute ones to your backpack. You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You see his face more often than anything else, and he calls you an idiot when you tell him about the fictional boys you think are cute. Well, you donât care. You tell him about them anyways, because you are bored and Kuroo-kun looked particularly nice in the episode the other day†only because you are bored and there is nothing else to do, or so you tell yourself. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends†you donât think you are, at least, because he has never confirmed it, even if he does seem somewhat tolerant of you; punches your pseudo-stalker in the face for you, and carries you piggyback on the way home, crying all the while. You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends†he is tolerant of you, he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, he walks with you before school, and he walks with you after. He lets you flop on his bed, lets you push him to the desk, wrinkles his nose at you when you tell him about a boy that was cute, and calls your friends dumb when you tell him about something they said that was funny. You weasel his birthday out of Mitsuki, and get him that All Might merch you know heâll like, and thereâs some Recovery Girl merch left on your windowsill the day of yours. He laughs when you try a bite of his food for the first time and cough instantly after, your face aflame. What the hell is this? You hiss, and he grins, telling you itâs real food, and that youâre just weak. He never calls you his friend, but he believes in you and your dream, and promises to walk you to and from school anyways, even if you do not attend the same one. )
This is how Katsuki-kun shows his love, you say to Mitsuki-san once upon a time, but now, you know, because you have learned to read between the lines of his words; to understand him: that this is just how he treats liars who worm their way into his world, and how he tolerates them.
Your lip wobbles. There is a lump in your throat. But you will not cry for him, nor will you plead. Play nice, your mother chastises you once upon a time, because you are a willful child, vindictive in both your action and your speech, and petty enough to hold onto your grudges. She chastises you once upon a time, because you do not particularly care to cater to the feelings of those around you unless you feel like it; do not care to stand up for a boy who has done nothing to you, just because he has done nothing for you.
You are petty, yes. Vindictive, too. You may not be that much of a good person, and you are not without your own feelings, hypocritical as that may be. But you are trying, and you are genuine, or at least as much as you can be, as much as you ever have, and he†he has just thrown all of that in your face.Â
âFine, then.â You smile, and you are unfeeling as you lie. âIâve never thought of you as a friend, either. Donât talk to me again.âÂ
The door slams behind you.
You do not hear his next words, so you do not hear him mean: not while you choose him, and not me.
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
Katsuki is six-turning seven the first time he meets you.Â
It is the first day of school. You are seated at your desk, a crowd of adoring sycophants around you. âHappy birthday! You look really pretty today,â His friend says from beside him, and he looks you up and down. You are wearing a sky-blue dress, with your hair pressed into careful curls.
His cheeks warm. He thinks youâre the prettiest girl heâs ever seen, but he only grunts, looking away to the side. âDunno. She looks pretty ugly to me.âÂ
âYou canât just say that to her,â Your friend hisses. He doesnât know her face.Â
He scowls at her. âAnd who the heck are you, extra?âÂ
She wilts under the force of his glare, and he feels a little better, as if satisfied.
âItâs okay!â You smile. He blinks. Maybe he should call you ugly more often.
And then you call him stupid. And blind.
And the rest is history.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
The results of your hospital volunteer application are sent back the next week, and the first thing you think of, somewhat bitterly, is that at least now, you have a proper excuse for skipping out on your weekly dinners.Â
You have already skipped out on the first, pretending you feel sick.Â
Your phone is still silent. You have not talked to him since that day, not even to check up on him when you see the news, though your fingers itch to. You think of sunflowers: how you didnât even like them, until him. You think of how your bag now feels empty without its signature pins, how you have thrown every scrap of yellow clothing into a pile in your closet, your sunflower-themed charms and notebooks tucked away.Â
Proof of life comes from your mother, and you do not turn on your phone.Â
You break your silence two days later, pushing your vegetables somewhat morosely around your plate. âMy volunteer application was accepted. Theyâre letting me intern at the hospital.âÂ
Your father beams. âThatâs great news! You shouldâve told us earlier! Honey, we have to eat out to celebrate! Oh, I need to tell Masaruâ€âÂ
âI wonât be going to weekly dinners for the rest of the summer,â You cut in. Your motherâs chopsticks pause midair.Â
Your father blinks at you. âSurely the hospital isnât making its interns work that much.âÂ
âWell, Iâm applying to UA.â You shrug. That much is true, but itâs also just so you can fill in your hours, work yourself down to the bone. âIâd like as much experience as possible.âÂ
Your mother is watching you carefully.Â
Your father clears his throat. âWell, donât work yourself too hard.â He says, jokingly, as he dishes another helping of food upon your plate. âYou tell us if theyâre giving you any trouble, alright?âÂ
You force yourself to smile back. ââCourse, dad.âÂ
( Your mother asks you, a week later, when you arrive home from your internship. âAre you still friends with him?â She has asked you a similar question once, years ago and late in the evening, at the end of the dinner party, your father drunken and half-leaning on her shoulder.
You give her the same answer you did then, and in the same way. Cheery, and without a hint of hesitation. âNope!âÂ
She is watching you carefully.Â
You excuse yourself, and she does not ask you about it again. )
It feels like the days never end, and yet summer passes by before you can blink. You banish all thoughts of blond hair and crimson eyes entirely from your mind, and truthfully, you do not have the mind to think of him much, anyways. You steal the pain of your patients and make it your own, smiling at the brightness of their faces as you heal one, then two, then several more. It tires you terribly so, and between your time at the hospital and pre-studying for the UA exams, youâre so fatigued each night that you fall asleep before your head even hits the pillow. You donât even have the time to meet up with your friends. And before you know it, the last year of middle school is upon you, as are the start of your applications.Â
It is a whirlwind of things to do, so much that you feel you do not have the time to breathe, or even think. Katsukiâs been placed in a different class from yours, which comes as a relief in more ways than one†firstly, that you donât have to see him, and secondly, because you can let your grades fall just a little, and still come out as top of your class. Between your intern shifts, your mindless studying, the applications, the tests and quizzes and preparing endlessly for interviews, the thoughts of anything else vanish entirely from your mind. You do not feel the emptiness of your afternoons, nor much of your mornings.Â
About two months in, Midoriya Izuku is the one to seek you out.Â
There is a spoonful of rice halfway to your mouth, a textbook in your other hand. You notice him when a shadow falls over it, blotting the light out. You glance up, drawling. âYes?âÂ
âCan I⊠talk to you for a moment?â He ventures, nervously, a tray gripped in his hands.Â
You eye him a little strangely.Â
You havenât seen him since four months ago†you havenât really been paying much attention, and even the reminder sets your walls of iron slamming up. Heâd been shorter then, you think, and significantly more hesitant. The boy from back then would never have even dared think about approaching you like this.
He flusters. âI-I just! Another time is also okay, or if you donât want to, thatâs also okayâ€âÂ
There he is, you think, a touch amused. âCan it be said here?âÂ
Beside you, Suekoâs jaw drops. You can feel the stares of your friends boring into the side of your face.
âY-yes?âÂ
âThen make it quick.â You flip the page of your textbook.Â
He hesitates. âIs it really okayâŠ? For me to sit here?âÂ
Your eyebrow arches, high. âSince when have you been unable to sit where you like?âÂ
Mutely, he sets his tray down, and sits.Â
You only flip another page. âYou can either eat or talk.â You say, conversationally. âLunch wonât last all day.âÂ
Obediently, he takes a spoonful of rice, and swallows. âI just⊠wanted to thank you.â He begins.
You know exactly what he is talking about, and your throat tightens. ( You think of your backpack, how empty it feels, but your refusal to tack on your sunflower pins anyway. ) You shrug. âNo need to thank me. I didnât do it for you.â
âEven so,â Midoriya perks up a bit. âN-no oneâs ever stood up for me like that before, and especially not to Kacchan⊠I-Iâm really grateful, either way!âÂ
You snort a little. Never would you have thought Midoriya Izuku, of all people, would stand here one day, thanking you.Â
âI think youâre a really good person,â He says to you, a little bit hesitant. It jolts you a bit, the genuine honesty of his tone, but what you are not prepared for is what comes after. âAnd I know Kacchan does, too.âÂ
Your spoon stops halfway to your mouth.
âHe still cares about you,â Midoriya says, a touch softer. Your friends are not looking at you, but you can still feel the weight of their gazes, their ears.
You say as you set your spoon down. âIf you want to be friends with me, then you will never speak of him again.âÂ
Midoriya watches you carefully, notes the finality in your tone. His gaze rises to a point above your shoulder.
He flinches.
He does not speak of what he sees, or of this conversation, ever again.Â
You do not turn, and you do not ask.
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
The week of UA acceptances arrive, and you await your own with bated breath.Â
Your father laughs as you run out exactly at eight every morning to check, before he finally deigns to tell you that the postman usually delivers to your house around twelve. âI knew that!â You say, and he laughs at the obvious lie.
You stick your tongue out at him, but you still sneak out the next day at the same time, just in case.Â
But as it turns out, the postman is late. You know this, because Midoriya texts you late in the evening, after dinnertime, with his signature All Might emoji and a brief: check your mailbox!!!!!
You stop, your heart in your throat. You donât think you are breathing.Â
Heâs still typing, spamming your text messages with a thousand All Might emojis, each of them more despairing than the last. You do not know what this means. And then, you see his next message: I got in!!!!!Â
It turns out that you are not, in fact, breathing.
You feel like you are holding your breath the whole time youâre fumbling through your mailbox, dropping random letters haphazardly onto your doorstep. That one looks like itâs important, you think, distantly, and it gets dropped somewhere onto the growing pile at your right, scanning them all for a familiar logo, and†you see it at the very bottom of the pile.
You thumb it open with shaking hands. Congratulations, it reads, and you scream.
( You think for one moment of sunflowers, how you can imagine exactly how heâd react, hear exactly what heâd say. )
Your father pokes his head around the corner. âI heard screaming. Everything alright?âÂ
Your mother is smiling. âMitsuki just called. Katsukiâs in.âÂ
Your father is looking at you with wide eyes. You are grinning, there are tears in your eyes, and you are wordless in your delight.Â
Your mother laughs, soft. âI suppose two congratulations are in order.âÂ
âMidoriya also made it, so make that three.â You correct, grinning.Â
Your father whoops. âTHATâS MY GIRL!â For the first time in almost a year, you feel light as a feather, like the world is spread wide before you, and you are a young god before it, your wings wide and at the ready.Â
For the first time in almost a year, you think, for one moment of sunflowers, how you can imagine exactly how heâd react, hear exactly what heâd say. You think of reaching for your phone†( and if you did, youâd see his icon that youâd purposefully wiped blank bubbling )†but you donât. You think of a boy with blond hair and crimson eyes that you have not looked at in almost a year, how youâll brush past him in the halls, surrounded by your gaggle of friends, your uniform and makeup, your armor, and try not to note how heâs grown taller. For the first time in over a year, you think of him, and your heart does not feel like an empty cavity in your chest; you do not feel so hollow, nor do you ache.
Your heart only squeezes, a little tight, but.Â
You think you will be fine.
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You are delusional. You are not, in fact, fine.Â
You are standing in front of the classroom door. It spells the code of your class: 1A, in bold lettering, proportions inhumanly large. You are three minutes late, but itâs really not your fault†youâd simply fangirled so hard over the fact that youâre finally getting to meet your idol in person last night that youâd barely gotten any sleep, and your mother had had to haul you practically out of bed and out the door, throughout the whole of your alarm.Â
You slide open the door. Instantly, youâre met with a sea of faces, and you steel yourself†but then.Â
For the first time in over a year, you see him, and all of a sudden, you are painfully aware of the lack of yellow on your figure; your backpack entirely empty of its signature sunflower pins.Â
The smile is frozen on your face, and he looks just as shocked as you feel.Â
A voice drawls at your side. âYou must be the healer,â You are glad for the distraction; the source a scraggly-haired man halfway through removing himself from a sleeping bag. Your sensei, you deduce. âYouâre late.â
âSorry, sensei!â You bow. âI overslept because I was fangirling too hard over meeting Recovery Girl today! I promise it wonât happen again!âÂ
A wave of soft laughter ripples through the class, and over the din, you hear a†sheâs kinda cute!†at the same time as a†oh, I love her already.Â
âIf I get hurt, will I get to see you?â A voice calls, and you turn to see a boy†blond, and your heart stutters for a moment, but his shade isnât ash, itâs golden. Heâs grinning cheekily up at you.Â
âNo flirting in my class.â Your sensei warns. âBut yes, seeing as sheâs 1Aâs healer understudy.â He turns to you. âRecovery Girlâs waiting for you in her office. You know where it is?âÂ
You nod cheerily. âSir, yes, sir!âÂ
âGood.â You turn at the obvious dismissal, shooting a wave at your green-haired friend as you do.Â
You leave the classroom with your shoulders set, your chin tilted high, your outfit your armor, and your makeup your helm.
You pretend like you do not feel the crimson glare that seems like itâs trying to pierce through the back of your neck.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
Recovery Girl likes you, and you feel as if you are floating for the whole of a day. Not even meeting Bakugouâs gaze the next morning can knock you from it, nor can the grape-haired boyâs leering from across the room. You canât really dwell on them for long, either, not with the crowd of people aggregating by your desk. You blink up a little, surprised.
Itâs not like youâve made an effort to dress up especially pretty today, and you donât think youâve come off as incessantly nice. You are not the you from first grade anymore†you donât just think yourself pretty, you know you are†but are confident enough in your own skin that you have stopped putting on airs; have allowed yourself to be as cold and sarcastic and dry as you want. Most of your girl-followers†( the ones you buy with your motherâs fashion, your fatherâs wallet, and your pure, sunny disposition )†have only seen glimpses of you like this, and you can count on one hand the people outside of your parents who know you as you are.Â
Sueko, Midoriya, and of course, him.Â
You do not dwell on it for long. You are confident in your own skin, and though you would like some more friends, you do not wish to temper yourself to gain them.
You smile a little at the question the purple-haired boy asks, disliking the way his eyes are lingering at your chest. âYouâre all welcome to drop by the clinic anytime you like. Itâs what weâre here for, after all. Though, if you want a kiss to make you feel better,âÂ
You pause a little bit for dramatic effect watching the eyes of several boys brighten just a bit.
âYouâll have to go to Recovery Girl.âÂ
Your straight face is very well-practiced, but you do not hide the small quirk of your mouth as you watch their souls die.Â
An arm slings around your shoulder, its pink-skinned, pink-haired owner grinning at you. âI think weâre going to be best friends, you and I.âÂ
You remember thinking the same thing about a different girl, when you are six-turning seven, and you hear the same genuinity behind it.
( You are clad in your outfit like armor, your makeup a helm. Today, you are exactly as cold and sarcastic and dry as you like, because you are confident in your own skin, and you do not temper yourself in the slightest. )
You smile up at her. âI think Iâd like that!âÂ
Her grin widens, but then, an older Hero walks in†Cementoss, you think. You have made an effort to memorize the roster. âTo your seats, everyone.â He calls.Â
You take out your notebook, neatly arranging your pens. New year, new you. You donât have as many shifts at the hospital anymore†you donât need the experience exactly, as youâre sure UA will look good enough on your resume, but it canât hurt. Besides, you enjoy working there anyways; the older nurses who help you out with a kind smile, the doctors who are almost always willing to answer a question. But the lessened shifts allow you to breathe, just a little, to settle back into a healthier routine; one no longer so bogged down by your thoughts.Â
Math transitions quickly into English. You think you prefer Cementossâs teaching style just a little, even if Present Mic is more energetic†a little bit too loud for your tastes, you think. The material is basic, seeing as itâs the unofficial first day of class, and though youâve already pre-studied most of the content, you end up writing most of it down, anyways.Â
Lunchtime arrives. You balance your tray on your hands, walking side-by-side with Mina. Midoriya waves at you from his table, surrounded by an assortment of friends, and you nod back. âLetâs sit there!â The pink-haired girl points excitedly at a particular table.Â
You see several boys from your class, some more familiar than the rest. A head of ash blonde, crimson eyes that glance up to meet your own.Â
âMidoriya wanted me to sit with him today,â You say, a touch apologetic. âYouâre welcome to join us, if youâd like?âÂ
Her eyes widen a bit, and you note the glance, the observance. Her own smile is your mirror, just as apologetic, and just as assertive. âMaybe another time,â She says.
She knows what she wants, and sheâs not afraid to say it. You like that about her.Â
You incline your head, eyelid pulling down in a wink. âDo let me know which one you like,âÂ
She only laughs at you, her answering grin somewhat sly.Â
All Might steps into the room after lunch, and though youâve never been one of his particularly die-hard fans†you think of your sunflowers, how you make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours†you can admit that in person, he stands a legend in real life. You are just a little starstruck, you think, as he smiles at you, and says†âDo try to keep your injuries to a minimum, though not to worry! Our healer team will be here to assist you!âÂ
You find yourself grinning a little as you respond, âNothing fatal, though. I donât think Iâve ever heard anything about anyone bringing a dead person back to life.âÂ
He booms a laugh. âNaturally! You are all Heroes! You should refrain from using lethal power whenever possible!âÂ
He speaks too soon. The first teams are called up, and the matchup is almost comical.Â
Bakugou will be fine. You know this. You are not worried for him in the slightest†not that you would, you tell yourself, a touch sardonically.
No. What you worry for is the state of your Quirkless friend, and you are right to worry. Bakugou seems almost angrier than youâve ever seen him, and thatâs saying a lot, considering how good you are†how good you used to be, you correct yourself†at getting on his nerves, though Midoriya seems to be holding up very well.Â
Your friend has grown, you think. He is not at all the same person he was over a year ago in that classroom.Â
But you are right to worry, because All Might is shouting into his microphone. âYoung Bakugou, stop! Are you trying to kill him?âÂ
No, you think, immediately, instinctively. You know Bakugou is many things, but he is not that. Never that.
You feel the force of that explosion from here. âThis is supposed to be a class!â One of your classmates, red-haired and red-eyed, is saying. âYou have to stop him!âÂ
âHe knows what heâs doing.â You find yourself saying. Somewhat cold, somewhat callous. There are eyes on you, surprised.
You shrug.
You donât really know why you say it, either.Â
âYoung Bakugou, the next time you use that, Iâll stop the fight, and your team will lose. To attack on such a large scale inside is inviting the destruction of the very stronghold you are supposed to be protecting. That is a foolish plan for both heroes and villains, and you will lose a lot of points!âÂ
You donât need to look at him to feel his teeth gnash in anger, but you still watch the screen, anyways.Â
Their clash is violent. You remember saying, once, that you dislike violence because you are a healer. But that is not entirely true, you think: you see the passion in their every movement, even as your green-haired friend receives the brunt of the beating, the callous elegance of it. The careful calculations, the years of training that you have walked alongside most of to witness.Â
âThis looks bad!â One of the classmates from before seems to shout. âSensei!âÂ
You donât dislike violence just because you are a healer. What you have always disliked is the senseless brutality of it, the cruelty of its aftermath. Not because you have to deal with it, but because sometimes, you canât.Â
You look to All Might. He seems to be struggling with something.Â
âSo long as it is not fatal,â Your voice is soft, but no less firm. âI can heal it.âÂ
His mouth tightens, but you see his decision made in that moment.Â
You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see Midoriyaâs Quirk. Your eyes widen. Itâs so sudden, so powerful, that you almost miss it; the blast entirely different from Bakugouâs own. So he was not Quirkless after all, you think, but all thought of that vanishes when you see the aftermath.Â
All Might is turning for you, but you are already running.Â
You see the two you are unfamiliar with first. âHow is she?â You ask the blue-haired boy who stands upright.Â
âIâm fine!â She gasps out. âJust nauseous! But Dekuâ€âÂ
You hear the nickname, and you think you look a little strangely at her for it. You donât dwell on it very long, though, because youâre already slipping past.Â
Then, you see him, and though your heart stutters a little in your chest†( your bag, empty of its sunflowers )†you still look him in the eye. You are professional. âAre you hurt?â You ask, because he is standing there, still gaping, a little open-mouthed.Â
He turns that look upon you, and his eyes widen.Â
The eye contact feels slightly unsettling. You look away first. âWell. If you are, you can let me know.âÂ
You kneel at the green-haired boyâs side.Â
A hand stops you, just as you reach out. Theyâre a little bit bigger than what youâre used to, a little bit more callused. âWait,â He says, voice raspy, and you tense a little: both at the familiar and unfamiliar touch, and because itâs been so long since youâve heard his voice. âYou donât have toâ€â He scowls, cursing. âRecovery Girl.â
You blink up at him, a little confused.Â
But then you see his eyes dart towards your arm, and then the green-haired boyâs, lying prone on the ground.Â
âI am a healer. Itâs what I do.âÂ
âThatâs not what Iâ€â He curses again under his breath. âThe damn nerd will be fine. Does he even know about your Quirk?âÂ
âWhy would that even matter?â You are confused, and you shove his arm away. Your friend is still hurt, and he is keeping you from your job. Why do you even care? You want to say.
You bite your tongue, and think: heal.Â
Midoriya blinks awake halfway through. Your arm is covered in purple contusions, and he gasps, jerking away. âYou†your arm!âÂ
They fade within seconds. You only reach again for it, feeling the crimson gaze burning into the side of your face, as youâre sure the rest of the class is too, from their camera screens hundreds of meters away. You stare straight ahead, and think, heal, even as your arm ripples in agony again, painted and purple.Â
You steal your patientâs pain, and you feel all of it, but you donât show a thing. Because you are a healer, and thatâs what you do.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You are a healer, and thatâs what you do, but the next day, Aizawa-sensei still admonishes you for it.Â
âYour records are very impressive,â He tells you first, and you straighten. You figure: he is likely a man notorious for his lack of praise, so you might as well lap it up while you can. âHowever, just because you have a very high pain tolerance, does not mean you do not feel pain. Am I correct?âÂ
âYes, sensei.â You dip your head.Â
âThe lot of you hear that, right?â He addresses the rest of the class. âSheâs a healer, and she can heal almost anything, save those who are already dead. Thatâs very impressive, and itâs very rare. Donât let her become your crutch. She will not always be there, and though she might say she doesnât mind your burden, others will. Whether itâs yourself, your fellow Pro Heroes, or the civilians you are trying to save.âÂ
There is murmured assent from the class.Â
He turns back to you. âHeroism is also about knowing when to step back and let others handle the situation. It is okay to share your burdens,â He tells you.Â
You blink a little, surprised at the comments that are not really criticism at all. âI am a healer,â You state. âItâs what I do.âÂ
He sighs. âYouâre just as stubborn as your mentor,â He says.Â
You smile at this, chirping. âThank you!â
âThat was not a compliment.âÂ
You sink into your chair a little sheepishly, but itâs like a sun has been lit in your chest, because you take it as one anyways, and you are grinning.Â
Lunchtime is a little strange today, for more reasons than one. Mina invites you again, but she doesnât protest your decision, a knowing glint in her eye. But she doesnât mention a thing, and you are grateful for it.Â
Midoriya is sitting with the same people as yesterday, and he beams, delighted, as you slide into the seat beside him. Iida and Uraraka nod at you from across the table, and you nod back.Â
Surprisingly, itâs the red-and-white haired boy across from you†Todoroki, who breaks the silence. âMy father says he would like to meet you.âÂ
You blink. Thatâs certainly not what you were expecting. âEndeavour, right?âÂ
He nods, his face deadpan. âPlease decline.âÂ
You choke a little bit on the bite of food that has just entered your mouth. Midoriya slides you a napkin.Â
You cough around it. âWow, Todoroki-san. You really dislike me that much?âÂ
He shoots you a strange look. âNot at all. Why do you ask?âÂ
Youâre a little confused. âOh, that was a joke.â
âApologies. I have never been very good with jokes.âÂ
âNothing to apologize for, and I was planning on declining, anyways. Iâm going to intern under Recovery Girl for the rest of my life!âÂ
âI will communicate that to him, then.âÂ
Midoriya coughs lightly from your other side. You elbow him.Â
Uraraka giggles, but whatever she is going to say is cut off by the sound of the alarm. There has been a level three security breach, you hear.Â
âTrespassing,â You hear someone clarify.Â
You stare at the horde of gray-uniformed students crowding the hallway. You have never been a huge fan of crowds, especially ones as tightly-packed as this. Besides, you think, a touch dryly, that if there were an intruder, walking headfirst into a mosh pit like this would probably be the best way to get yourself caught up in a mass murder.Â
But you donât get to voice any of these concerns, because then Uraraka is tugging at your wrist. âIf we donât get ourselves in there now, weâre never going to get our way out! Come on!âÂ
You fall, weightless, and are carried away upon the sea.
Itâs horrible. Internally, you curse the girl, and almost donât even feel bad about it because yes, sheâs like the sweetest person youâve ever known, but sheâs also reason youâre in the midst of a thousand wayward bodies right now, wrinkling your nose at the reek, and practically fighting for your life to keep your head above the throng. You are a healer, you think, a little despairingly, as you elbow someone so harshly that your own limb twinges. You are fighting a desperate battle, but nonetheless a losing one†at least you are, until hands lift you by the waist and carry you forth; your savior cutting his way through the crowd with ease.
Your back hits the wall, and gratitude is on the tip of your tongue as you look up, but then you see him: ash-blond, and glaring at you with crimson eyes. âThe hell were you thinking?â He hisses. âYou donât even like crowds.âÂ
You hate the familiarity in the way he says it, as if he still knows you, and you hate the way he cages you in against the wall, his body larger than you have known, but how it still feels the same, pressed up against yours.
( You think of your sunflowers, how your bag feels strangely empty without them. )
It is the nearest he has been to you in well over a year. You hate the way he smells, like burnt caramel, and you hate the way your cheeks warm.Â
You want to say: neither do you, and you want to ask him why he even bothered to try and save you. You know he doesn't like you, not even in the slightest, not this liar who has wormed their way into his world; this liar that he tolerates. You think of a thousand witty remarks, ones that used to make his eyes light, the curl of his scowl somewhat harsh, but no less familiar, of giving voice to your outrage, to your feelings, and simply storming past.Â
You choose none of the above.Â
You still your features, the picture of calm, set the steel of your shoulders, and stare straight at a point above his shoulder. âWhy do you even care?âÂ
You do not look at him, so you donât see the way he recoils, ever-slightly. The expression he levels you, half-bewildered, half-disbelieving, the rest a complicated mix of emotions even he could not decipher himself.
You don't see the way he opens his mouth, because then Iida is there and shouting.Â
You see your chance, and you donât wait for his answer. You werenât expecting one, anyways.Â
He doesnât even have the time to reach for you, before you slip past, and are gone.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You stand before the mouth of USJ, your heart in your throat.Â
You barely notice the weight of the device upon your wrist; a monitor that connects you to all the ones distributed amongst the class, because there are villains down there, you think, a little dumbfoundedly. Real villains, like the type you see in movies, and you feel almost ridiculous, out of place, as if someone will smack you upside the head and tell you: wake up! and that you are not in a story. And you are not, because you pinch yourself, and yes, this is real life.Â
You have never seen a villain yourself before, because you are a healer, and have only ever dealt with the aftermath of what they have done. You know the damage, the pain, the torture it can inflict upon a soul; the way sometimes, no one can ever fully heal them afterwards, not even you. So though you are a little wide-eyed, your thoughts blank, when the mist wraps around you, you donât even think.Â
You lunge.Â
Crimson eyes widen, and he catches you, just one second before you fall into darkness as one.Â
You try not to think about the way his body feels against yours, how he is cradling you, the way his hand automatically wraps around the back of your head. You feel the impact in your bones, though he bears the brunt of it. Automatically, you reach up, and think, heal, but you donât have the time to do much else, because then his eyes widen, and heâs shoving you away.Â
âSTAY THERE!â Distantly, you think he is roaring at you, and another time, you might have protested that you could defend yourself. But the shock of it all is still settling in†( these are real villains, you think dazedly, and this is real life )†and you are a healer, right now, you are nothing more than a civilian.Â
In the aftermath, you still stand, dazed. Bakugou and another red-haired guy from your class are panting, smoke curling from your familiar ash-blondâs figure, and you register, like the world is separated from you by a film: itâs over.Â
âOi.â There are palms cupping your face, and you blink a little, startled, as crimson eyes boring into yours. âYou hurt anywhere?âÂ
No, you think, a little too stunned to speak; the harshness of his tone at odds with the gentle manner of his touch. But then you see a hint of blood trickling down the side of his cheek.
As if on instinct, you reach out for him. He jerks away.
Wow, you think, the lump rising to your throat instantly. You had not known he hated you this much, to the point that he is unwilling of even your touch.Â
âI am a healer,â You say, your throat somewhat tight. ( You think of sunflowers, your bag that is empty, your closet and its piled-up yellow. ) âYou are hurt, and I am simply repaying a favor.âÂ
You sense that he is watching you carefully, but your eyes do not rise to meet his gaze. You simply steal his pain, and you barely feel a thing†even if his injuries were not so light, you think you are too numb to, anyways.Â
You move past, and he does not reach for you. The red-haired classmate†Kirishima, you recognize, grins at you, saying that he is unharmed. He offers to escort you back to the front, but then, your wristband is beeping, a location upon it.
You straighten. You are still afraid, you recognize, but there is someone out there that needs help, and this is simply another obstacle you must overcome. You will not always be in your hospital, tending to those that manage to get themselves wheeled in†and though there is fear in you, there is also an equal determination.Â
âThere are people who need healing,â You say, and that is all you need to.Â
You are a healer, but that does not mean you are any less brave.
You are a healer, and this is what you do.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You ask Aizawa, two days later, if he would be willing to teach you self defense.Â
( You remember a boy, back from what feels like eons ago. You, on his back, the sun in your chest as he offers to walk you both to and from school. You donât even know where Iâm going, you tease, and he only scoffs at you. Then Iâll teach you how to fight.
You think of your sunflowers, and your bag, empty of them.
Your throat tightens, and you make your decision. )
He looks a little surprised, and asks you if you are sure. He warns you that he will not be a lenient teacher, but you have seen how this man dove headfirst into danger to save his students; seen his kindnesses that are masked in the form of tough love.Â
You also know he likes you, at least a little bit. If he hadnât, he would not have complimented you like that on the third day, would not have had the hint of fondness in his tone as he drawled, that wasnât a compliment.Â
And even if he doesnât, you know he will be at least a little lenient.Â
You had been the one to heal him, after all.Â
You are wrong.
You hate running. Always have. You started training, years ago, but that had been entirely out of spite, and in the wake of it†( your bag, empty of sunflowers )†you had stopped. You hate running, always have, and you have no time, youâd told yourself, nor the energy†but really, you hate it because it reminds you of him.
Now, you hate it for a different reason. You hate it because Aizawa pushes you, hard, until your lungs are gasping for air, your knees and legs trembling†you think, somewhat sourly, that none of your healings had ever prepared you for this. You have healed all manner of wounds, cured a variety of diseases, but that does not change the fact even back when you were running, you had not put everything you had into it, and that now, you are trembling, bones soft, muscles even more so, somewhat like a deer.
You heal fast, though, you always have. You would not have been able to heal without it†Aizawa knows this, which is why he pushes you hard. âIf you hadnât been so dedicated to medicine,â He tells you, âI wouldâve told you to go the Hero route instead.âÂ
You shrug. The thought has never occurred to you. Your mother is a doctor, and as soon as your Quirk had developed, you had never thought about anything else. But you donât get a chance to voice it, or even to thank him, because then heâs hauling you up by the arm.
âBreakâs over,â He informs you, a signature shit-eating grin on his face. You think youâre beginning to hate the sight of it. âBack to running.âÂ
You sigh, before dutifully acquiescing.Â
Schoolwork is easier, at least, though between your sparse shifts at the hospital and Aizawaâs daily after-school training, you are pretty much spent. You donât even register Mina chatting excitedly beside you about the upcoming UA sports festival that Aizawa has just announced†you only think, a little despairingly; more work.Â
You glance up at your pink-haired friendâs surprised exclamation, and you see: a crowd of people, so many that from your vantage point, it seems like itâs the intruder incident all over again. A scoff, vaguely familiar†âTheyâre obviously scoping out the competition, small fries. Weâre the group that made it out of the villain attack.â Someone protests, telling him to play nice†no, you think. This is him being nice. âOut of my way, extras!âÂ
âI came to see what the famous Class 1-A is like, but you all seem pretty arrogant. Are all the students in the Hero courses like this?âÂ
You see: a head of purple hair, mussed, and you think†wow, he could be Aizawa if your senseiâs hair was shorter, purple, and he were using his Quirk.Â
âSeeing something like this makes me disillusioned. There are quite a few people who enrolled in general studies or other courses because they didnât make it into the Hero course. Did you know that?âÂ
You didnât, but he only continues.Â
âThe school has left those of us a chance. And based on the results of the sports festival, theyâll consider our transfer into the Hero course, and vice versa. Scoping out the competition?â He scoffs. âI, at least, came to say that even if youâre in the Hero course, if you get too carried away, Iâll sweep your feet out from under you.â His eyes flash, chin raised high. âConsider it a declaration of war.â
You sigh a little internally at the theatrics. âExcuse me, coming through.â You call. You ignore the way the ash-blond tenses a little as you walk up beside him, and you smile politely at the crowd; your uniform your armor, and your makeup your helm. You can do damage control just fine. âIâm class 1-Aâs healer, so I donât have a bone to pick with you really, but,â You cock your head. âAll we did was fight off and survive a villain attack. Iâm not sure how thatâs arrogance. Have any of us gone out of our way to bother you?âÂ
You are sure your classmates havenât, because though you have not known them long, you are observant enough to tell that they are good and entirely dedicated to the path of Heroism. And you are right: he is wordless in the face of your diplomatic tone, the maturity of it all.Â
But then†a laugh, somewhat mocking. You think you recognize the voice, and you do: itâs class 1-Bâs understudy, standing in the middle of the crowd. You have not talked to her much, thinking her quiet, but it seems that really, she just dislikes you.Â
âThatâs so rich of you to say,â She says, with a scoff. âSucking up to Recovery Girl all the time, parading around like you own the place, all because you went viral and people started calling you The Best Healer of our Generation.âÂ
You blink†you remember Sueko mentioning it once, you think, after one of your co-workers, one of the older interns had started making videos of you, with your consent. You had not put much thought behind it, and you hadnât the time to, between your many hours and the boneless weariness that had been so constant in your life after.
âGet off your high horse,â She snarls, a vehement finality to it, as she scans you, up, and then down.Â
You donât know what to say, because honestly, you had never thought of yourself that way; had not thought of any others thinking of you that way. There are cries of outrage from behind you, you hear, distantly, as if you are underwater, but you are still stuck on the way she scans you. As if you are less than what you are, reduced to the painted trim of your nails, the makeup on your face, less than what you are and undeserving. As if it does not matter that you go to the hospital more often than not, your features clear, your hair pulled up, and lose yourself in your work; the agony of your patients, healing them and then some more until your bones ache with the ghost of their pain and you drop dead to your pillow, your phone turned off.Â
You are silent not because you are hurt, exactly†you do not know this girl, and she does not know you†but because you are so stunned. You donât know what to say, because you have never thought yourself reduced to just this, less than what you are and undeserving. Distantly, you hear the cries of outrage, you feel yourself, adrift amidst an ocean, your hands clenching. You donât know how to start, or what to even say.
But he does.Â
âShe doesnât use social media,â He starts, and yes, you donât, but how does he know? âIt obviously wasnât even her recording the videos, you fuckwit, and it says in the account biography that itâs owned and run by a friend.âÂ
You are staring at him, your heart held like hope in your throat. ( You think of your sunflowers. ) You donât understand why he is saying this, why he is stepping in for you. ( You remember making fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You remember finding that you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends†he is tolerant of you, he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, he walks with you before school, and he walks with you after. He never calls himself your friend, but he believes in you and your dream, and promises to walk you to and from school anyways, even if you do not attend the same one. )
He does not look at you, nor does he pause, and though there is anger in his voice, you think he is holding himself back. âHigh horse?â He laughs sardonically. âGet off yours. Sheâs already ten times the healer, hell, the Hero, youâll ever be.âÂ
( He doesnât call himself your friend, but he still stands up for you. )
You donât know what sort of expression youâre making, but it has to be ugly, something complicated, not exactly bewilderment nor gratitude or simply hope but some combination of them all; like something in between.Â
âAnd what would you know? What are you, her guard dog?â She snarks back.Â
And finally, you find your voice.Â
âHe does what he likes.âÂ
You are still watching him, and you see the way his hands clench, and then unclench.Â
( You think very briefly of your sunflowers, and you think that you will always miss them. You can heal any wound on this earth, save the fatal ones, but you cannot heal the hole he has carved into your heart; not the one from this boy who knows you, every facet, both the good and the bad. You have never needed to hide the unsavory parts of yourself from him; after all, your very relationship was built upon a lie. You think a part of you has always loved him for it, will always love him for it†this boy who is not your friend, has never been your friend, but still knows you, stands up for you, and believes in you, in all of you. And, you think, even if he does not care for you, there will always be a part of you that always cares for him. )
You turn to level her with a cool stare.Â
âHeâs right,â You say. âI donât use social media, and before you call me a liar, just listen.â You add, as her mouth opens.Â
( Your mother is a doctor, and when your Quirk develops, you know you want to go the same route. You have never even considered anything else; never even thought of being a Hero, until your sensei tells you that he mightâve pushed you for it, had you not already been so dedicated to the path.
And you will not pretend like you have been good every step of the way†you are not that much of a good person. Your mother tells you to play nice, because you are a willful child, vindictive in both your action and your speech, and petty enough to hold onto your grudges. You are not that much of a good person, you have never particularly cared to cater to the feelings of those around you unless you feel like it; do not care to stand up for a boy who has done nothing to you, just because he has done nothing for you.
You are grown now, better now, you know, but some elements of you still remain. You still wear your outfits like your armor, though it is not your hair but your makeup that is now your helm, you take time with your appearance and you take care of it every morning. Your volunteering at the hospital was not born entirely out of unselfish intention†firstly because your mother said it was what you should do, and second because you thought the experience would look good, especially since you were applying to UA. But†)
âI donât know why you applied to UA, but I know why I did.â You say, simply. âIt was because I wanted to become a healer, and this is one of the best places in the world to do it.â You straighten, jerking a finger at the ash-blond beside you. âWe all went through the same application process. Take him, for example. Heâs arrogant, heâs loud, and he always gets on your nerves. But that doesnât make him any less passionate, or any less of a Hero. It doesnât matter, because if youâre determined enough, strong enough, youâll eventually rise to the top.â
You are the center of attention, but you have never been so aware of a singular set of eyes, burning straight into you.
You continue. âI donât know who you are, or what you want to be, but that goes for the rest of you, too.â You jerk your thumb back to your classroom. âThereâs a green-haired boy in there that everyone thought was Quirkless, including himself. But he had a dream that he dared to try for, and look where he is now.âÂ
You look at your fellow intern, the class 1-B one.Â
âI donât use social media for a variety of reasons, havenât for a long while, and I wonât pretend like all of them were good. But ever since I started volunteering at the hospital, whenever I think about it, I think: every second I spend scrolling the internet could be another life lost. Someone I didnât save, something I didnât learn that couldâve helped someone in the future.â Your shoulders are set, and you lift your chin high. âYou can think Iâm a liar all you want, but I would hope, as a healer, you would be at least able to understand this.âÂ
She is mute, and you look at the rest of the crowd, wearing your outfit like armor, your makeup, your helm.Â
You raise one eyebrow. âAnything else?âÂ
Silence is your only answer, and you shrug.
âSee you around, I guess.â
The crowd parts mutely before you, but then your wrist is clasped in a hand†you think, very briefly, of sunflowers, but then you turn, and it is Mina grinning up at you, several others from your class in tow. âYouâre so fucking cool,â She tells you, bright and genuine.Â
You are not that much of a good person, never have been, and, you think, you are not entirely sure if you ever will be. You will never be entirely unselfish, free of your precociousness, your pettiness, your occasional lying habits, and all the other thousand-and-one flaws you could find in yourself, if you really tried.Â
But you are growing. You are the same you that you were before, and you are also different.Â
You grin at her. âI know I am,â You say.Â
You are not that much of a good person, but you are growing, just as much the person you were before, as you are someone new.
You are a healer, you are yourself; this is who you are, and this is what you do.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
His mother calls him out on his sulking, barely a week in.
âDid something happen between the two of you?â She frowns, and his heart clenches painfully in his chest.
âSâfine,â He snarls. âKeep your damn nose out of my business, old hag.âÂ
For once, his mother does not take him up on the challenge†he almost wishes she would. Heâs been itching for a fight, to get it out of his system somehow, but sheâs always been able to read him†just like you.
Mitsuki waves the phone in her hand. âHer father said she wonât be joining us for weekly dinners anymore†sheâs started volunteering at the hospital, and just wonât have time.â She states, plainly, and without judgment. âI donât know what happened between the two of you, or if youâre still friends, but you were probably a little shit like usual, so get off your ass and go apologize.âÂ
Apologize. That damned word. He hates it. And heâs considered it, but then he remembers: you, your face, the way it had crumpled, and then the way youâd sneered, donât talk to me again.
He has always been able to tell your lies from your truths, and it stunned him in the moment, because it had not seemed like so much of a lie.Â
And itâs not. He sees the truth of it, a week later, when you skip out on your weekly dinners, accept your volunteer position, and cut the whole of him from your life, just like that. He sees the truth of it, on the first day of school, as he waits by your intersection and is almost late because you arenât there, as he scans his class for your face and finds you absent, when you pass him in the halls and donât even bother to look up. He sees the truth of it two months later, when that damned nerd stands at your table, a tray in his hands, and you allow him to sit. His heart is in his throat, clenching around something painful, there is smoke rising from his hands†Deku looks up instinctively, flinching, and you do not even bother to turn.Â
( You and your sunflowers, the way you smile like the sun when you find out he is allergic, and go out of your way to plaster sunflower-themed things all over yourself, and heâs not quite sure if they are your favorite flower, or you do it just because you hate him. But then he gets to know you, slowly and over the years, a thousand-and-one forced interactions until he finds, one day, that he is not reacting so sharply to your barbs, uncaring that you flop onto his bed and muss up the sheets, unminding of your chatter, your studious, stupidly competitive nature, the way your eyebrows knit a little when you focus on a more difficult concept, or how youâre grinning as you annoy him, rambling about anything and everything; your fictional crushes.
You say you want to be a healer, and the first thing he thinks is: thatâs stupid, why not a Hero?†but your eyes are determined as you say it, there is a fire in them, and he sees that bleed into the way you do things; the way you act. You never call him your friend†you have, once, very clearly a lie†but he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, promises to walk you to and from school, even if he does not know which one you might go to, promises to teach you how to fight. Itâs stupid, he knows it is, the way he tenses when you joke that you want him to kiss you so bad because heâs imagining it. And then the guilt after, when you press your cheek softly into the curve of his nape, feeling the dried-out tracks of your tears, the way you shudder as you steal his pain†barely-there, but he feels it, anyway. )
He looks at you, properly, fork crumpling in his hand. âYo. Youâre staring.â One of his friends nudges him, gently, and he forces himself to look away.Â
( You, the sunflowers you bedazzle yourself in, your bag absent of them, and the way you never wear anything yellow ever again. )
Heâs angry at you, at first. Itâs unfair, he thinks, the way you seem to carve him completely out of your life, with all the practiced precision of a surgeon, that he spends almost all his time thinking about you, and that you do not do the same for him. You donât want to talk to him, youâve made that abundantly clear, and thatâs fine†he has his pride, and he is not going to beg you to stay. Not when you chose the nerd over him.Â
But then you stand in the doorway. You look like you did the first day, clear-eyed, but older. Your eyes widen when they catch sight of him, ever-slight, but heâs never missed a single expression on your face, and he does not miss it now. All of a sudden, he wants to talk to you so badly that it hurts†he sees the bags under your eyes and wants to tell you to sleep, the bone-weariness with which you carry yourself, your step absent of skip.Â
But then, your gaze drops. He sees your bag, absent of its sunflowers.Â
He feels as if his gut were a stone, heavy and damning.Â
He remembers: you have never once thought of him as a friend, and he will not beg you to. He will respect your space, your wishes.Â
And yet. You stand by the entrance, the day of that first class, fierce and silhouetted by the sun. Are you hurt? You ask him, and it feels as if he were floating, stuck in a dream.
He takes too long to respond, and you give him a once-over, clearly discerning he is fine. You kneel by the damn nerdâs side, and he feels the absence of your attention like a physical thing, but even that is secondary to the horror he feels when you reach the other boy; his arm painfully bruised and almost a terror to look at.Â
He wants to say: you donât have to do this, you donât have to hurt yourself. There are other healers in the building, and donât you have a mentor? You raved about Recovery Girl all the time, thereâs no reason you should be taking his pain for yourself. And the nerd will be fine†anger clenches at him, then, because if the nerd knows about your Quirk and still allows you to hurt yourself for him†âWhy does that even matter?â You ask him, and he hears the ghost of what you donât say: why do you even care?
He does. Of course he does. He always has, even when you giggle to yourself about something so blatantly stupid, even when you are an entire pain in his ass.Â
But then he thinks of you, your bag empty of sunflowers, the way you have not worn yellow since.Â
His arm drops back to his side, and he says nothing more to you, just as youâd like.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You have always disliked crowds, but so has he.Â
He is watching you when it happens, sees you lingering hesitantly by the exit. Youâll be smart about it, heâs sure†heâs hotheaded, yes, but that doesnât mean heâs stupid or blind. But then†brown-haired cheeks tugs you by the wrist, forcing you into the throng, and he thinks: what the fuck?Â
He knows itâs stupid, and that you wonât thank him for it, but he dives after you, anyway.Â
He forces his way towards you, watching as you elbow someone particularly hard with a surge of pride, before heâs holding you and marching away, towards the wall, towards free space, trying not to think about how you feel in his arms, how you feel with the whole of you pressed against him. He needs to say something, anything to distract himself, so what he says is: âWhat the hell were you thinking? You donât even like crowds.âÂ
Your cheeks are a little flushed, and you are staring at him. He feels his own warm in turn, and he feels like a kid again, heart like a sun in his chest.Â
Your features still. Your mouth flattens, and you are cold as you say what you did not only a day before. âWhy do you even care?â You ask.
He does. Of course he does.Â
But you do not ask this question in hopes of an answer. Your gaze slides past, and then you go with it, refusing to give him even the time to reach for you.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
When the mist envelops him, the first thing he turns towards is you.Â
His eyes widen†you are already in the air, lunging at him, and he barely has the mind, the presence of thought to catch you. You fall as one, and his gut lurches†he wraps himself around you, shielding your vitals, your head from harm, and gladly takes the brunt of the impact. He has all of a second to check up on you, to feel you pressed against him, know that you are safe, before he catches sight of more villains behind. âSTAY THERE.â He shoves you into a corner, setting his back to you†and when they are done, you have not moved an inch.
He sees the daze of your eyes, the shock, and cups your cheeks anyways, trying to ground you. âOi,â He says, harsh, but also soft. âYou hurt anywhere?âÂ
You blink up at him, and then at the red he barely feels sliding down the side of his cheek.Â
He jerks away. He doesnât want you to touch him, not to heal him†heâs strong, heâs fine, he can deal with it, he doesnât need you to steal his pain. Not when itâll hurt you.Â
âI am a healer,â You say, and his heart clenches again at the sound of your voice, and again when you tell him: âYou are hurt, and I am simply repaying a favor.âÂ
He hears the steel in your voice, lets you touch him.
He would give anything to curl into your touch, even if for the rest of your life, your relationship is just like this: he, the dog, and your favors, the bone. He wants it, so long as you will keep on touching him like this, and yet he also doesnât want it, because he cannot bear to be the one causing you such pain.Â
He is angry beyond words when the extra starts laying into you like she does, and you simply stand there, bearing the brunt of it all.Â
Heâs watched the videos, seen every single one. Seen how hard you work inside of them†the comments talk about how beautiful you are, but all he can think of is the tired pallor of your face†but whatâs more is that he knows how hard you work outside, too, and who is this girl to even talk about you like that, when she doesnât know what itâs like to take the pain of another, and make it into your own? His tone of delivery is quiet, no less than lethal, and he speaks with every ounce of pride he has in you and the person that you are.Â
You are watching him, he thinks, and he thinks, somewhat dizzily, that this is it. Youâll chew him out in front of the crowd, call him out on his bullshit, tell him to stop speaking about you, speaking for you, that you hate him, that heâs stupid, anything and everything of the above.Â
But you do not.
You only rise, and he thinks that you are not at all the girl he has known before. Some parts of you are the same, entirely unchanged, but you have grown†so much that it takes his breath away. You have always been coolly elegant in your deliveries when you mean it, but thisâ€
He thinks: it is okay if you never want to talk to him, if you donât care one bit. It is okay if you choose never to wear yellow again, your bag remaining empty of its sunflowers, it is okay if you carve him entirely from your life.Â
He will respect your wishes, and watch from the sidelines, basking in the radiance of you: the healer, the girl, and simply everything that you are.Â
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
You should not be here.Â
You feel terribly out of place in this darkened room, with a crowd of familiar villains before you, disoriented and groggy.Â
If it were not for the ash-blond by your side, you think you mightâve started hyperventilating. You are quiet as you wake. You notice: his hands are bound, but yours are not†they know you are a healer, you think, and they do not fear you.Â
You feel, rather than see, crimson eyes slide to yours. You blink up at him.Â
And then, his eyes flicker up.
You see the resolve set firmly onto his face. You know him, likely more than he does himself, which is why you know what he will say.Â
He says: âIâll listen. Iâll consider working with you, so long as you make sure to leave her out of it.âÂ
No. The word clangs into you with a force, a viciousness. You jolt upwards, so fast your head spins†no. You know he wonât. He is a Hero to the core, and you know this, because you have decided early on that you will remain a step behind him always, even if he does not care at all for you, there and ready to steal away your pain. You have decided: you will see him live out all of his days, full of glory and entirely unscathed, victorious, and you will not watch him burn his life away like this, tucked away in a corner of this world, quietly and without a sound.Â
He lies to protect you, and you decide there and then that it isnât worth it. You know him, have spent a thousand and one days getting to know him, just as you know that his bluff will be called before long, because though Bakugou Katsuki is many things, you have always known him to be a terrible liar.Â
You arenât, though.
You straighten, and rasp. âNo, he wonât.âÂ
âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ
He watches you straighten, watches you drawl, and he feels a terror like ice creeping up to his throat.
Your lips are pulled into your liarâs smile, soft and lovely under the candlelight, but then†âKatsukiâs going to be a Hero,â You tell them, and his heart stutters because when was the last time you actually called him by his name?Â
âShut the fuck up,â He tells you.
You ignore him.
âTrust me when I say, this guyâs like, the biggest All Might fan youâll ever see. Well, actually, maybe not the biggest†Midoriyaâs collection is insanely impressive, but you get the point. Did you really see his actions at the Sports Festival and think that was your opening?âÂ
You stand, a smirk on your face, and he wants to tell you to shut the hell up again, to just stop talking, but†you turn, you flash him a grin, and itâs like heâs six again and seeing you for the first time. You see him, in a way no one else ever has, in a way that assuages all the criticism heâs seen since, narrowing his world down to these things: you, and your unwavering confidence in him. Your lips are pulled into your liarâs smile, you are scared and terrified and pretty much everything in between, but he hears your words, hears your truth.
âNewsflash, losers. Heâs wanted to be a Hero ever since he was a kid, and nothingâs ever going to change that.âÂ
His heart swells so tight he thinks itâs going to burst. You, in this moment, like you still care, that heâs not alone in this, and that he cares for you more than anything else in the world, loves you more than you will ever know.Â
You do not need to say anything else, because there is a knock on the door†pizza delivery, someone calls, and then the door opens; All Might in the flesh. The heroes†and then you are scrambling for him, your fingers fumbling with the knots, but he simply jerks his hands apart, tearing the fabric, and reaches for yours.Â
You still a little, surprised, flinching back a bit, but his heart is singing†you care, he thinks, somewhat dumbly, like a mantra bouncing around inside his head. He barely registers the rest of it†he emerges by the ruins of a building, your hand still in his, piloting the both of you around the villains who try to keep you. Shitty Hair, calling down at him from the fucking sky†what the fuck? but then heâs calling for you, and then there is you: looping your arms around his neck, knowing, instinctively, what he means.
His chest warms like the sun, ethereal and glorious.Â
You blast together into the night. His hand lands upon another one, similarly callused, and then heâs curling his other around you, latching you to him. Your head is settled in the crook of his neck, and you donât protest it in the slightest, only untangling yourself once you land.
You donât reach for his hand once you do, but thatâs okay. His heart is singing.Â
He snarls at the others in his usual manner, and you assert yourself with your own. He follows you as you walk, a step behind. The others leave you at the police station, their own parents plenty concerned, and he doesnât mind it in the slightest†he gets to walk you home, after all.Â
You are silent as he does. He walks a step behind, and does not prod you.Â
You stop. He does, too. Your hands ball up into fists. He watches, waiting.Â
Finally, you whisper. âWhy the hellâd you do it?âÂ
That is not at all what heâs expecting you to say.
âHah?â Heâs never been good with his words, always more combative than means. Particularly with you. Especially with you. âCause I wanted to, dumbass. The hell do you want me to say?âÂ
You whip around and slug him instantly, punching him square in the gut.Â
He barely bends from the force of it. You clutch your fist, teary and glaring.Â
âFuck you,â You hiss. âFuck you, Katsuki. You donât just get to pretend like you care when you want to, whenever it suits you! You donât get toâ€âÂ
Heâs stunned into silence. Heâs the one thatâs pretending like he cares about you?
Your mouth opens and closes, so angry that you cannot quite find the words. âYou donât get to just fucking try and sacrifice yourself for me! What the fuck!âÂ
He steps closer, disbelief lighting a second sun in his chest.
You lash out. âStay away from me!âÂ
He catches it in his hand, and you try to fucking headbutt him. He dodges that, too, and then heâs pulling you into him, as tight as his heart feels.
You stiffen. Frankly, he doesnât give a shit, not when heâs figured out how you really feel.Â
âIâm sorry,â He rasps into your ear. âI care for you. Iâve liked you since we were fucking six, and you shoved your stupid fucking sunflowers in my face. I was angry. Iâm sorry. Iâll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if youâll have me.âÂ
You do not move. Do not breathe, and for all of a second, he thinks: this is it.Â
And then, you crumple.Â
He can count the number of times heâs seen you cry on one hand, but you weep into his shoulder now, a yearâs worth of repressed emotions wrung out of you in an instant. You melt into him so perfectly he feels as if he was made for you, the weight of you so perfect and familiar in his arms. âYouâre so fucking stupid,â He thinks you are saying though itâs somewhat unintelligible, between your sobs and the way your voice is muffled from being pressed into his chest.Â
He chuffs in your ear. âFeel free to add blind and ugly to the list, if youâd like.âÂ
You laugh, broken and teary, but then your arms rise, and you are wrapping them around him.
He thinks: itâs okay if the world ends right then and there, so long as he gets to hold you; just like this; just then and there; just for a moment longer.Â
( He thinks of you and your sunflowers, your liarâs smile. How your face had lit up in absolute delight at the sound of his first sneeze, and how youâd stepped forward to thrust it further into his face, a wicked grin on yours all the while. How you lie your way into weekly dinners, and heâs furious, swearing he wonât talk to his parents for the whole of a month†but then youâre there, in his room and making fun of his figurines.
You say, somewhat disinterestedly, that you think you remember a new All Might one on the market. He caves, and his vow lasts only a week.Â
He thinks of you and your sunflowers, your liarâs smile. How he had always hated the sight of them before you; a young god faced with his one mortal weakness, but as time went on, he learned how he did not quite mind the look of them on you. He thinks of you and your sunflowers, your liarâs smile; soft and lovely under the candlelight, scared and shaking and terrified but still believing wholly in him, just as he does you.Â
He thinks he has loved you since forever. )
Absent-mindedly, he presses his mouth to your hair.
And in the light of the dawn, pink-streaked and painting you awash in sunflower yellow, you look up at him, and smile.Â
bc i need to rant about this fic: afterword
#bakugo#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha x reader#my hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#[â§] â writing!
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the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.
a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!
i. academic rivals except itâs two teachers who compete to have the best class.
âItâs driving me mad, Prongs,â says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chairânot at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year.Â
âIâve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my âpronunciation could do with some workâ?â Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, âAnd, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?â
âNo way,â Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. âHow dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?â
Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. âItâs not about the baskets, Lily! Itâs a fear-mongering tacticâa threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesnât win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.âÂ
James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) âDonât you think youâre going overboard there, Moony? Weâve won the bloody thing every yearâand if weâre running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldnât you agree?â
Lily smacks him on the arm. âDonât you dare, James Fleamont Potter!âÂ
Sirius whistles. âFull name. Yikes. Youâre on your own there, mate.âÂ
James glares at him. âIâve had my tongue down your throat, donât call me âmateâ.âÂ
Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell youâve cast on himâand their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) âBe honest, Moony, youâre just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,â he grins salaciously.Â
âCan confirm,â replies Lily with a chirpy nod. âThe back view is even better.âÂ
âWell, yes, but thatâs beside the point, my love,â Remus splutters with a cough. âItâs a matter of legacy and pride now. Ifââ
âWhile I appreciate being the topic of conversation, Iâve come to collect my studentsâ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,â you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. âYou see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.âÂ
James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. âCome here, darling,â he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans youâre wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if youâd let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. âHow was your day?â
He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. âPerfect now that Iâve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?â you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. âDid you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.â
âHeâs just cross because youâve become the entire castleâs favorite teacher in your first year,â Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now heâs got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. Heâs so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) âNot even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.â
You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. âIs it my fault that Iâm so lovable?âÂ
Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, âNot at all, darling.â
âShall I lock the doors now?â Sirius offers mischievously. âIâve always wanted to do it in a classroom.â
ii. itâs too hot to cuddle!
âMmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,â you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godricâs Hollow has ever seenâswatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, youâd relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare armsâor the times youâd wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.
Lily sniffles. âAh, woe is me. My own son doesnât want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadfulâwhat ever happened to âtil death do us partâ, you traitors?âÂ
You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glareâthe pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. âDonât be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.â
Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopusâwincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. âI already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.â
James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) âDid someone say get naked?â
âWay ahead of everyone,â says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth.Â
âOh Gods, Sirius!â Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. âGet back in there and put some clothes on!âÂ
âWhat?â he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a showâand a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. âItâs not like you havenât seen any of this before.â
Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. âPack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harryâs downstairs waiting for everyone. He says heâll rip off the stuffed Padfootâs head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.âÂ
That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.
You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, âGod bless the Remus Lupins of the world.âÂ
iii. too much communication.
ââand the thing is,â you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. âWhen you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and thenâ!â you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. âAnd then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and youâd never, ever cheatâand I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?â
Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contortedâas though heâs in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. âOh, darling, Iâm sorry. We didnât mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. Youâre our world, our entire heart. If youâre hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.âÂ
Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. âThereâs something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long agoâbut I was afraid you would look at me differently.â
You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. âIâve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floorsânothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.â
Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. âIâm a werewolf, my darling. Thatâs why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. Iâd die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.âÂ
âIs that it?â you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. âTruly?ïżœïżœ
Remus nods. âTruly.â
âOh, our poor love,â Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. âIâm sorry we let it get to this point. Look at youâyouâll cry yourself sick.â She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. âIâm sorry,â she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. âNo more secrets, I promise.â
James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. âWell. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.â
You blink. âWhat?â
iv. child hero has very involved parents.
Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all thatâwell, if he could actually do anything heroic.
âWhat do you mean thereâs a basilisk in the castle!â you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledoreâs office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his faceâthis is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledoreâs quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) âWhy havenât you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?â you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards.Â
âHave you taken any protective measures?â Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remusâs hand thatâs resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, âWhat about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.â
âYou know what,â you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. âWeâre leaving, Harry dear, letâs go.âÂ
âGo?â the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. âGo, where?â
âHome,â you reply with no room for arguments. âUntil the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione sheâs welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why donât you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.â
Harry thinks youâve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.
Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherinâs taunt. âFix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.âÂ
Harryâs shoulders slump.Â
So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.
a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.
#poly!marauders x reader#hp angst#hp fluff#hp imagine#james potter x reader#lily evans x reader#marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders#poly marauders#sunny's hp fics#marauders drabble#marauders fluff#hp drabbles#x reader#x reader fluff#x reader drabbles
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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᥣđ©
âĄâ âA Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
"Sir? Sir!â
Ghost flinches as he realizes heâs been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. âAre you going to buy something or not?â she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. âUh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,â he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. âHyacinth? Never thought Iâd see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,â the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. âAh,⊠if I know something, itâs about her.â The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, âWell, I can see that you love her dearly.â With a soft smirk, he replies, âThat I do.â
Youâve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didnât like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where heâd give you one are when youâre on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
Itâs been two days since youâve left the apartment, staying at your friendâs house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, âwell, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.â It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you havenât broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when youâre hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, youâre waiting for him.Â
Donât get him wrong. He doesnât think youâre âeasy to getâ and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and⊠lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if itâs solitude without you. Youâre the one thing he canât live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. Heâd always drop off by your friendâs place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes heâd be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping heâd leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldnât help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldnât even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. âHi,â he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out.Â
One thing you learned about your Simon was that heâs not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, thatâs literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
âI fucking missed you, pretty girl,â he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid youâll slip from his fingers again.Â
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love.Â
| The letter:Â
âTo my darling flower, Iâm sorry for even hurting you. Iâm sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. Youâve always told me that youâre there for me but I didnât want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. Iâm sorry that I didnât say anything that day. That I didnât even ask you to stay. Iâm sorry for being a coward. Iâm sorry that I let you go.Â
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.â
ê°á â à»: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N âflowerâ. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. đ©
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
âą taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works in the masterlist: à!
#simon ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon riley cod#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost riley#simon riley#canaryâs symphonies#canaryâs melodies
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Little Big Fan | Five
- Little Big Surprise
Series Masterlist
wc: 3.3k
The house felt too empty, too quiet.
Isabella has been at her father's house for the past week and you missed her dearly. So, you had to find new hobbies to pass the time. You should've been used to the days she isn't home but you still aren't.
A new addition to your routine was your newfound hobby; watching Formula One races, or more so, watching Max race.
You would've been a fan even if you didn't know him personally, purely based on his driver skills, but that little detail made every moment of the race a tad bit more special. Your eyes would always try to find him on the track with the others, which he was in front of, leading.
You even found out that you could watch an on-board camera for a specific driver while watching the main race screen as well. It was very obvious whose camera feed you chose to watch.
This was the first time you watched the race after coming back from The Netherlands, mainly because it's only been a week since.
Though it wasn't fun watching the race without Isabella, or more like without her own added commentary.
Fortunately, Isabella's father would be dropping her off today. Until then, you had to find a way to pass the time.
Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over Max's contact. The last time you spoke was yesterday, when you congratulated him for the win over text.
You caught up on your pending work, meeting clients, writing up contracts, and even began designing the floor plans. One of the perks of working as a freelance interior designer, was that you could complete it at your own pace. The downside, however, was once you were done, you didn't really have anything else to do.
You worked for a few hours today, so your little break where you contemplated to call Max was well earned.
But before you could decide whether or not you wanted to call him, your phone rang with a call from him.
You quickly answered, greeting him with, "I was just about to call you, but I thought it'd be too late for you." You remembered that even though it was daytime for you, it was nighttime for him.
Max hummed, "too late? Oh wait, you're right, it's well past midnight." You furrowed your brow as his response confused you, but you didn't comment on it.
"So, what's up?" You asked, wanting to know why he called.
"You actually left something when you came to the race, and I kept forgetting to mention it, but I was thinking of sending it back to you as a package," Max explained, and you began to wonder what you had left behind.
"Yeah, sure that's fine, I actually have no idea when I'm going to see you again either." You shut your eyes tightly as you regretted the words as soon as you spoke them. "I meanâ" you tried to explain but he cut you off, "I know what you mean and you're not wrong,"
You told him your address for the package, still wondering what you left behind, but dismissed the thought once you heard some noises on the other end. Specifically, noises that would indicate a person is outside, such as traffic.
"Max, are you outside?" You asked, wondering what he'd be doing out at this hour. "What no! Hold on, can I call you back in a bit?" He didn't wait for your response, just hung up the call.
You held your phone in front of you, looking at the dark screen as if it would give you any answers, but as excepted, it didn't. Then, you dropped the thought or at least tried to since Max did say he'll call you back.
You made yourself an iced coffee before falling into the depths of online shopping. Before you could decide on buying anything, the doorbell interrupted you.
"Max" you gasped as you opened the door, seeing him standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. "Hi," he grinned, eyes taking in your presence since it had been too long since he last saw you.
"You lied about the package," you commented though there wasn't any malice behind your words. "Consider me as the thing you forgot?"
You chuckled at his words but it quickly became quiet as you finally realized that he was truly standing in front of you. "Please tell me you have a work thing here and you're just stopping by because you were in the area?"
"I could tell you that, but it would be a lie," he shrugged. You hesitated before asking the next question, "and the truth is?"
"I just wanted to see you and Isabella again." Either he didn't realize the weight behind his words or he chose to ignore it but you stood there, holding the door, in surprise.
"And now I'm realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to drop by without asking you," Max's words lacked confidence but you quickly shook your head. "No, it's just that you keep surprising me by standing on the other side of the door," then you smiled and added, "this time it happens to be in a different country."
Again, he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but if he was able to hear the thoughts running through your mind, he'd know that this was a big deal to you. In the best way possible.
"So, can I come in?" He asked, as he was just idly standing by the door. "Oh yes, sorry."
He passed the flowers to you once he was inside. "I didn't know which flowers you like, but this seemed fitting," he explained the reason behind the sunflowers.
You wanted to ask why, but you held back because in the few weeks you've known Max, he always manages to say something that leaves you speechless.
"It's perfect, thank you. I think I have a vase lying around somewhere." You found one in the back of a cabinet next to your kitchen, and started filling it with water.
Max stood across from you and commented, "that vase should never be left empty."
You chuckled, more at the thought of the vase being full than his words. "It has been empty more often than not."
Although it was just a simple back and forth conversation, Max made a mental note to try and never let it be empty for as long as he knows you. Which he hopes would be a long, long time.
Max looked around the house, noticing a lack of a little ball of energy. "Where's Isabella?"
"At Tyler's. He'll drop her off in about an hour." Once you set up the flowers, you paused, realizing you have to make lunch for Isabella but you didn't want Max to think that you didn't want him here.
"Everything okay?" He asked, always noticing everything. "Yeah, I have to make lunch for Isabella." You didn't know what reaction you expected but it definitely wasn't a laugh.
Max stepped closer to you, rounding the kitchen island that was in between you two. "If you think you have to entertain me as a guest, who by the way showed up unexpectedly, I'm going to think you don't consider me a friend."
You broke out into a smile, realizing that you overthought the small situation. "I do consider you a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have ranted on and on about my job."
"I will say though, if you're making lunch, I want some too," Max added with a sheepish smile. "Isabella's lunch entails a homemade pizza and friesâmade with freshly cut potatoesâbecause that's all she wants to eat every time she comes home."
"Fair enough, let's make extras for all of us," Max began rolling up his sleeves and washed his hands in preparation.
You couldn't help but laugh, "Max, what are you doing?" He looked at you as if his actions were obvious, "I'm going to help you. Did you think I was going to let you make lunch all by yourself?"
There he goes, leaving you speechless. You shut your mouth because you couldn't find a response, and began taking out the ingredients. "Just a warning though, you're gonna have to tell me what to do because I'm not the best chef," Max stated.
"It's okay, you can be my assistant," you responded which made him raise his eyebrows, "assistant huh? I like the sound of that."
You paused, looking at him with a playful glower before both of you broke out into laughter.
You passed him the potatoes after rinsing them, tasking him to peel and cut into strips to make french fries.
Although he didn't notice, you might've stopped a few times while kneading the dough to look at him. Unbeknownst to you, he did the same when you weren't looking either.
"So does Isabella go to her dad's often?" Max asked after a moment of silence. "Sometimes it's every other week, other times it's only a weekend per month," you explained.
Max had loads of questions about Tyler, but he was content in knowing only what you were willing to tell him. This time, you didn't continue the conversation about your ex, and Max understood that you didn't want to talk about it.
The topic was forgotten as soon as you accidentally smeared pizza sauce across your face. You truly had no idea how it got there, but only realized when Max brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe it away.
However, he only smeared it further. He couldn't control his laughter as it spread and that prompted you to wipe it from your cheek and smear it on his.
He glared at you but it only lasted a millisecond as he grabbed a handful of dry flour. "Max," you warned, stepping backwards in an attempt to get away from him.
You didn't get far as his arm found its away around your waist to pull you back and hold you still. Then, he dumped the flour on your face, adding to the remnants of the sauce.
Your hands pressed against his chest to push him away but it was a useless attempt since he had you cornered against the counter so you had nowhere to go.
You spluttered since a bit of the flour got in your mouth and Max laughed at you. Then, you did the only thing you could think of. Grabbing Max's face, you rubbed your cheek dusted with flour and sauce against his. Now it was even.
Once the laughter died down, both of you noticed how close you were standing. Max couldn't back away because of your palms on his cheek and on the nape of his neck.
Your eyes widened slightly at the realization and you quickly dropped your hands so he could move. Max took a second too long to process that you weren't holding him anymore, before he created more space between you two.
Then, you noticed the time, "shit she'll be here in twenty minutes."
"You should go change, I'll take care of the rest," Max suggested and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "you're going to take care of it?"
He nodded like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one who said you're not a good chef," you spoke with a teasing smile.
"I said I'm not the best chef, I can be a good chef," he reasoned and you couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine, as long as you don't burn my house down."
"I'll try," you heard him as you went upstairs to your room.
"He got me flowers," you muttered to yourself as you picked out a clean outfit. "He fucking got me flowers." The realization hit you hard, more so because you loved sunflowers, and he just happened to randomly guess the right bouquet. Which was something your ex could never do right even after you told him, mainly because he preferred roses and only bought you roses.
"It seemed fitting," you repeated his words, "Max, why do you have to be so nice?" You asked rhetorically as of course he wasn't there to answer.
You hurriedly went downstairs after washing up and changing to see whether Max had done anything wrong. Perhaps if he was a lousy chef, you'd have one complaint about him. So far, you have liked everything about him.
Fortunately, nothing smelt burnt, and nothing was broken. When you spotted him, he was frying the French fries.
You paused in your tracks, and took a good look at him so you could remember this moment later. Max looked very comfortable in your kitchen, in your house, as if it wasn't his first time. You hoped it wouldn't be the last.
"Looks like everything's fine here," you commented and he turned to look at you with a smile, "no burnt houses," he shrugged.
"The pizza still has a few minutes to go, and the fries are all done," he spoke as he gestured with his hands, but when he looked at you again, you had a stupid smile on your face.
"What?" That made your smile widen, "nothing, just, thank you for helping me."
"Always," he responded, already planning that he'll be around as long as you wanted him to be.
The doorbell rang, interrupting your peace but you were beyond excited to open the door and greet your daughter. Isabella definitely got the habit of being overly excited from you.
However, when you opened the door you saw Isabella standing beside Tyler with a frown on her face. "Hi angel, did you have fun?" You crouched down and ruffled her hair.
"Can I go inside, mama?" Her timid voice surprised you as she would usually answer that question happily. "Sure, sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute."
You watched her head inside before you stood up, closing the door behind you so Isabella wouldn't hear your conversation and faced your ex, "what happened?"
He scoffed, "nothing happened, I just told her that I won't be able to see her again as planned because I'm flying out of the country."
"Another business trip?" You asked and he nodded. "She usually doesn't get this upset any other time you cancel, did something else happen?"
"You know how she is, overdramatic," Tyler casually shrugged and that word ticked you off. "Don't you dare call my daughter overdramatic," you pointed at him harshly.
"Oh so now she's your daughter? Isabella gets upset easily, you know this."
"I do not want to hear you say that word again to describe her, I've heard it enough from you when we were together. Now tell me what happened."
Tyler sighed, and for a moment he thought about saying that Isabella was just like her mother, like you, but he didn't want to waste any extra time being around you.
"I introduced her to Emma," he stated as if it would explain everything but you furrowed your brows in confusion. "Who?"
"My girlfriend. Isabella noticed her around the house a few times so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce her," he explained and you were about to interrupt but he kept going. "I don't know if Isabella doesn't like her, but she's been in that mood ever since."
"Tyler, she has only seen us together, so of course if you introduce her to someone else, it'll take time for her to get used to it," you decided to explain in a calm manner.
"You don't have an issue with my girlfriend?" He asked and you raised your brows, "why would I? It's not my business unless it involves Isabella."
He shrugged, then laughed at his thought before saying it out loud, "well I hope that you don't have an issue explaining dating to her, that is, if you ever start dating again."
"My dating life is none of your business. Don't you have somewhere to be? Perhaps back to Emma?"
"Alright, I'll text you when I'm back in the country," he stated and turned around to leave but paused as he saw a new car in the driveway that he knew didn't belong to you.
"Whose car is that?" You laughed at his need to always be all up in your business, "goodbye, Tyler."
You entered the house with a sigh but the sight in front of you warmed your heart, making you forget all about the conversation with your ex.
Max was crouched down onto his knees to be at eye level with Isabella, who had two arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.
When Max heard the door close, he opened his eyes and saw you. He removed one hand that was resting on Isabella's back and gestured for you to come closer.
Understanding his silent gesture, you crouched down right behind your daughter and wrapped her in a hug as well, so she was sandwiched between you and Max.
You placed loads of kisses on her cheeks until she started giggling. Isabella let go of Max and turned to face you, "mama, you didn't tell me that Maxy was here!" Just like that, her mood was drastically different from when she first arrived at the doorstep.
"He surprised me too, angel," you spoke as your gaze shifted to Max.
"Did you watch him race yesterday?" You asked Isabella, but her mood dropped again. "No mama, daddy was busy."
"It's okay, you can watch the next one with your mama," Max spoke, and Isabella nodded in agreement. "Okay!"
Then Max gasped, "the pizza!" He quickly rushed towards the oven to check on it, making you and Isabella laugh.
"Maxy made pizza?" She asked as she sat up on one of the barstools, which also happens to be her favourite place to eat even if you have a dining table.
"Maxy and mama made pizza," Max corrected, as he watched you cut it into slices.
"Are you ready for school?" Max asked once all of you began eating. You and Max also sat up on the barstools beside Isabella.
"No." She simply stated. Max frowned, "why not?"
"It's a big school, it's scary." Her words made you frown, "but you're a big girl too now."
"How about we go shopping tomorrow? Buy a new bag, more school supplies, and anything you want," Max suggested and this time you didn't stop him.
You already had a plan to take her shopping tomorrow, mainly because you already knew that Tyler didn't or else she wouldâve been beaming about it.
"Even the glittery clips?" Isabella asks with a bright smile on her face, making Max chuckle, "yes even the glittery clips"
"Oh what about ice cream?" Isabella asked, and this time you watched Max become the victim of her pout and big round eyes. He looked at you for help, but you pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.
"Yes, we can get ice cream too," he gave in making Isabella cheer.
"Alright, angel, finish your food." You gestured to her plate and she quickly obliged, stuffing her face with pizza and fries.
You were glad that Max was here, able to instantly uplift Isabella's mood. However you couldn't help but think about Tyler's words.
You never thought about dating again ever since you broke up with your ex, especially since Isabella was a baby and almost always with you.
But now that she was older, beginning to understand relationships, you thought about her reaction if you ever introduced her to someone you wanted to date.
Plus, you never met anyone that would make you debate the decision of whether to start dating again or not, that was until you met Max.
Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy
#little big fan fic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#thef1diary fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#fluff#f1 fluff
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Hey E-Vay ! Before I say anything, LOVE your work.
Okay, so I know that you're in the process of showing us how Sonic and Amy's wedding and proposal is planned out (no pressure). BuT, just curious, how did Knucks and Rouge get married? Or even how did he get to propose?
Thanks for seeing this!
Thank you so very much! đ„° Iâm so happy you like my work!Â
I will not be doing a full comic or even a full fic of how their wedding goes down just because I have too many other projects I want to do (Iâm only one person! đ„”). But I will give you a breakdown of how the Knuxouge wedding goes in my AU! And if anyone wants to do fanart or a fic based off it, Iâd love to see/read it!
During the events of Boom!Baby, Knuckles and Rouge finally get engaged. I donât have the exact proposal in mind, but I like to think that the two of them have been aggressively/playfully putting it off for awhile, with Knuckles constantly joking âAs if Iâd ever want to be married to HERâ and Rouge jabbing back with âPlease, youâd need to offer me the Master Emerald on a ring for me to even consider it!â But with Sonic and Amy taking this next major step in their lives, Knuckles is inspired and does end up popping the question (with a CONSIDERABLE ring full of gems that he scavenged himself!).
Knowing Rouge is an absolute diva, sheâd have the most extravagant, over-the-top, dazzling wedding you could imagine. And it would definitely be a âno-kids-allowedâ event. Have you seen the movie âCrazy Rich Asiansâ? Picture that. The wedding would be a spectacle that would last for DAYS! But, the wedding date would be expedited super fast (I headcanon that Rouge is actually very insecure and puts out a bold front to hide that about herself. Sheâd want to rush the wedding because sheâs secretly afraid Knuckles will want to back out. She shouldnât worry about that, he loves her very much and really wants to marry her!).
In my AU, Shadow is off-world during Boom!Baby, so though Rouge would have obviously asked him to be her âMan of Honor,â she wouldnât be able to find a way to reach him and get him back in time for the wedding. Because of this, Omega gets pushed to the role of âMan (Mech?) of Honorâ and Rouge asks Amy to be a bridesmaid instead. Note, Amy is nearing the end of her pregnancy at this time haha. I always write Rouge and Amy to have a very tense âfriendship;â thatâs just my personal preference. So Rouge asking Amy to be her bridesmaid was because Amy is her closest female friend, but also because she thinks it will make herself look extra fabulous when standing next to a very pregnant lady haha. She even picks out an awful yellow bridesmaid dress for Amy to wear (because Amy is still very beautiful, pregnant or not). Though Amy does agree to be a bridesmaid to support her friend, sheâs actually quite upset and very self-conscious and it initially puts a damper on her enjoyment of the wedding festivities (Her feet hurt like hell, she feels like a bowling ball, she thinks she looks horrendous in this color!). Donât worry though, Sonic cheers her up and reminds her just how radiant she is đ„°
[Sonic seeing Amy in her bridesmaid dress] S: âWow!â A: âThis yellow dress is awful. She did this on purpose.â S: âWell if she was trying to make you look bad, she failed miserably. You look like the sunshine!â A: âI look VERY pregnant!â S: ïżœïżœïżœSure, pregnant with MY baby. There ainât a thing more beautiful than that đâ [Rabid kissing ensues hehehe]
I picture Rouge having many outfit changes for every event that happens during their week-long wedding extravaganza, but for her actual wedding dress I imagine something super sleek, super sexy, and made up entirely of diamonds! My drawing doesnât even do it justice. Just picture that as sheâs walking, every single facet of every single diamond is sparkling! All the men would have to wear 3-piece black tuxedos complete with trousers (Sonic hates this), except Omega obviously. But heâd still wear a dapper bowtie and Sunflower & Iris boutonniere like the rest of the wedding party. (I chose Irises because Rouge seems to like the color purple and theyâre a very elegant flower, and I chose sunflowers because they remind me of Knuckles for some reason. Maybe because theyâre big and tall. Idk, I can see Knuckles really liking sunflowers and yellow pairs beautifully with purple). Sonic and Tails are Knucklesâ groomsmen, but Team Chaotix are also among honored guests so Vector and Espio (and maybe even Mighty) would attend all the groom-related events (like the bachelor party) leading up to the wedding.
Right before the ceremony, Rouge and Amy have a touching heart-to-heart moment and Rouge does thank her for stepping in and helping out, and she apologizes for making Amy feel bad. She admits that she has insecurities that she doesnât like people to know about, so thatâs why she goes over-the-top and sometimes puts others down in the process. Also (at least in my AU), Rouge doesnât have very many close friends outside of Shadow and Omega, so Amy really is her next best friend. They make up, the ceremony is perfect and romantic, and everyone gets to have an absolute blast at the reception!
Lastly, because Rouge is so over-the-top⊠after Shadow returns back to their planet 20+ years later, I can AB-SO-LUTELY see her throwing a vow renewal thatâs even more extravagant than their first wedding as an excuse to have him as her Man of Honor and also as an excuse to throw another huge bash. Though this one would be even crazier and BIGGER, I think the vow renewal would actually be way more fun because everyone (including kids) can come this time, everyoneâs families are bigger (even CC would be there!), and Knuckles and Rougeâs adopted kids (Ruff and Tumble) would get to be part of the ceremony, so itâd be very heartfelt even with goofy antics.
Sorry Iâm not going to make this one into a full-fledged comic, but I hope you enjoyed this condensed version anyway! And I hope nobody takes the way I write Rouge as me not liking her character. I just like to add a little spice into why she comes off so proud all the time. I adore Knuckles and Rouge as a couple. Their rivalry and catty attitudes are just a hoot!
#ask me#evayQA#my art#my au#knucklesxrouge#knuxouge#wedding#knuxouge wedding#knuckles the echidna#rouge the bat#sonamy#sonic the hedgehog#amy rose#sonic trash#sth#long post
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hey batter, batter
MDNI 18+
synopsis: ellie and abby have been rivals for years, playing for their universityâs softball team. one day you, their coachâs daughter, show up at their game and ruin everything.
content: ellabs x reader, reader isnât specified to be fem or masc, reader is described as a âgirlâ, afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!abby, switch!ellie, cunnilingus(e! and r! receiving), fingering(everyone receiving), strap-on(r!receiving)
word count: 3.7k
notes: based on this, thank u to @andisalias for giving me the idea to do softball, i think it worked really well! disclaimer: i know NOTHING about sports and just did a lot of research for this fic, so if anything is inaccurate about softball, iâm so sorry lmao
ellie sits on a bench in the dugout, picking at her dirty fingernails as she watches abby go up to bat.
âi hate the fucking batting order, i swear to god that jared has a vendetta against me,â ellie tells dina, whoâs up to bat after ellie.
jared, the coach for their universityâs softball team, is standing off to the side of the field, watching each move anyone makes on the field like a hawk.
dina snorts, nodding towards abby; âi think he has a vendetta against you fucking with his star first baseman before she goes up to bat.â
ellie scoffs, âthat bitch deserves it.â
dina laughs a little, âright.â
ellie shoots a glare towards dina and goes back to burning holes into the muscular blondeâs back with her intense staring as abby holds the bat up, ready to swing.
if ellie was honest with herself, she did find abby just a little bit attractive, but any attraction ellie felt was monumentally overpowered by her intense hatred and jealousy for the blonde. abby was an upperclassman and naturally excelled in softball, always managing to make ellie feel small just by walking past her, which ellie despised. luckily, she knew that abby was just as bothered by ellie in return.
the pitcher throws the softball and abby strikes out on all 3 throws. ellieâs eyebrows shoot up, surprised.
âoh shit.â dina remarks, âi canât remember the last time i saw ellie strike out.â
ellie rolls her eyes, âsheâs not that great, dude. she fucks up all the time.â
dina doesnât reply, not wanting to amp up her teammate.
abby comes back to the dugout, simmering with embarrassment and rage. ellie stands up and bumps abbyâs shoulder with her own as ellie goes to bat.
ânice going,â ellie sneers, her voice barely audible, but abby picks it up, her fists clenching at her sides as she takes a seat on the bench.
abby turns to look at the girl who distracted her in the stands, and itâs you, chewing a fat wad of Big League Chew. her cheeks grow warm at the thought of fucking up so badly in front of you.
âknock it off, abs, you donât even know her,â abbyâs brain supplies, and she tries to listen, turning back to watch ellie bat.
as ellie goes up to the plate, getting into position, she looks through the netting behind her to look at the crowd, looking to see if joel ended up making it to this game after work. she almost immediately finds joel, sitting at the front of the bleachers with a bag of sunflower seeds. ellieâs about to give him at least a nod, but is quickly distracted when she sees you sitting next to joel.
âwhat the fuck? who the fuck is that?â ellie thinks to herself, her cheeks reddening as she gets into position to bat.
she turns away for a second to catch another glimpse of you, but as she does, she feels the softball sail past her into the catcherâs mitt.
âstrike one!â
ellieâs wholes face feels hot and she kicks herself internally for getting so distarcted that she didnât even swing in front of one of the most attractive people sheâs ever seen. she shakes out her head a little, and she hears joel clapping, offering some cheers of support for ellie, but it just makes her feel more humiliated.
ellie adjusts her position, avoiding eye contact with her coach as he silently fumes over his star players completely fucking up and out of their element.
when the pitcher pitches the ball again, ellie swings and misses. at this point, she can feel her rage physically in her stomach, burning. she wilts inside slightly as she thinks about you seeing her play the worst sheâs played since high school.
on her last pitch, ellie swings too early and strikes out. ellie feels sick as she walks back to the dugout, tossing her bat on the ground with more force than she should use.
dina walks past ellie silently to go up to bat, knowing that saying anything to ellie about this right now would probably be a mistake.
ellie sits down on the bench, grinding her teeth as she makes a little hole in the dirt ground with her shoe.
abby leans over towards ellie, now smirking, âhmmm⊠karmaâs a bitch, huh?â
ellie jaw thrusts forward, not replying or looking at abby in fear that sheâll lose all control and lunge at the bigger girl, which she knows their coach would probably kick ellie off the team for.
in the next inning, abby takes her position at first base as ellie takes center field. abby looks up at you, chewing her lip slightly as she does. she tries to push down the wild butterflies she has, cursing herself for how distracted sheâs been getting by your mere presence and not wanting to fuck this up anymore.
abby looks back at her teammates, and catches ellie staring intently at the crowd. abby follows ellieâs line of sight back to you and she clenches her jaw.
as the game continues, abby and ellie both drag the team down significantly, the two most competitive and cutthroat girls now distracted and aloof, dropping balls and staring at you despite their efforts not to.
eventually, the game ends and the visiting team wins by a landslide. abby feels sick about being partly responsible for their first loss of the season. both girls walk with the team dejectedly as they file inside to the locker room, following their coach.
when theyâre all in the locker room, jared lays in to them, specifically abby and ellie.
âabby. ellie. what the fuck was that? iâve never seen either of you play like that. are you two fucking high?â jared reprimands angrily.
ellieâs face hardens, and she has to use every ounce of self control not to do something sheâll regret. abby, on the other hand, takes the criticism in, fully ashamed of how she played today.
âiâm sorry, coach⊠I was just off today, but it wonât happen again,â abby says, her head low.
ellie is so close to making fun of abby for kissing their coachâs ass, but before she does, you walk into the dressing room cautiously, sitting on a chair in the corner. ellie stares at you, confused, but her heart racing form just your presence.
jared shakes his head, âi just donât get it, youâre both firecrackers normally, but today, it felt like you two werenât even in the game.â
abby is stunned too, unable to come up with a response as she stares at you. you shift a little in your chair awkwardly as both women stare you down.
jared shakes his head again, âthis better not happen ever again, got it? or else youâre off the team. you canât pull this shit and off scott-free.â
abby and ellie both quickly snap their attention back to jared, knowing that both of their scholarships are from softball, and if they get kicked off, theyâre fucked.
jared rubs his temples, âalright⊠iâm done for today. go home, and iâll see you all at practice tomorrow.â
the team starts packing up their stuff, a few of them heading to the showers. ellie and abby watch as their coach approaches you.
jared gives you a hug, âhey, sorry that you had to hear that.â
you shake your head, clearly a little uncomfortable about watching jared reprimand the team. âitâs fine, dad, donât worry.â
dad? ellie and abbyâs jaws comically dropping at the same time.
as you and jared talk, ellie and abby tear themselves away to head to the showers, both of them irritated that the other is present.
âjaredâs fucking daughter??? thereâs no way that dick made someone so beautiful,â ellie sulks to herself, stripping her clothes.
both girls quickly shower and by the time theyâre done and grabbing their bags, theyâre the only two left in the locker room.
abby is determined not to say a word to ellie, but ellie has other plans.
âso, you have the hots for coachâs daughter then?â ellie asks as she stuffs her sweaty uniform into her bag, her hair wet and hanging in her face.
abbyâs loose, wet hair dampens the back of her t-shirt as she glares at ellie, âplease, donât act like you werenât drooling over her the whole game.â
ellie laughs a little, âwell⊠yeah. i have eyes, dumbass.â
abby bristles, âso, youâre gonna ask her out or something?â
ellie shrugs, âand what if i did? afraid she might like me more, anderson?â
abby scoffs, âiâm more afraid of you harassing her.â
ellie glares at abby, taking a step towards her, âliterally, fuck you.â
abby steps closer too, using her size advantage against ellie to try and intimidate her, âfunny, it seems you âliterallyâ want to fuck her.â
âummmâŠâ they hear a small voice from the doorway of the locker room.
abby and ellieâs heads whip around and they see you standing there awkwardly.
âi, uh⊠my dad thinks he left his baseball cap in here and asked if i could find it before i head back to my dorm,â you over-explain, rambling a bit.
ellieâs eyes light up a little, âjackpot.â
âdonât worry, iâll help you look around for it,â ellie immediately answers, going up to you, âiâm ellie, by the way.â
your cheeks are hot as you shake ellieâs hand, and abby realizes that ellie might be stealing her opportunity, and she walks up to you as well.
âhey, iâm abby.â she says, shaking your hand as well, her large hands engulfing yours, âand donât stress, i know what his cap looks like, it must be around here somewhere.â
abby and ellie give each other murderous looks as they search the locker room for coachâs ball cap.
you look around as well, your brain racing as you contemplate what you overheard them saying before they saw you.
abby finds the ball cap on the counter and raises it up in victory, âfound it!â
ellie takes a breath, trying not to get unnecessarily upset over something as trivial as this.
you grin, approaching abby, âoh thank god. iâm terrible at finding shit, i *really* appreciate you both helping me.â
âof course,â abby and ellie both respond at the same time, side eyeing each other slightly.
you stand in front of the two as an awkward silence settles over everyone.
you decide to be bold, for once in your life, and break the silence, âso, i, ummm⊠i overheard you two before walked in.â
abbyâs eyes get big and ellieâs freckled face goes red.
âoh shit, iâm really so sorry,â abby says, running her hand through her loose hair anxiously as ellie stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
you smile a little, âno, itâs okay. really.â
you step forward, closer to them, and the girlâs tense up.
âit is a shame that you canât share me though,â you boldly suggest, surprised by your own confidence, but you knew that they wanted you. they certainly werenât discreet during the game.
âholy shit.â
abbyâs jaw drops slightly and ellie pauses before slowly saying, âshare?â
you take a step closer, looking back and forth between them, âyeah. share.â
abby turns to ellie, and in that moment, maybe for the first time, theyâre on the same page.
âi wouldnât mind sharing you,â abby responds, her voice soft and low.
ellie nods, taking a step closer to you, âiâm good with sharing too,â she quickly supplies.
a slow smile spreads over you face, your eyes sparkling as you press yourself against ellie.
âwell then⊠feel like sharing me right now?â
abby laughs a little to herself at the lunacy of this situation, but she canât say that sheâs not already wet just from this conversation alone, so abby nods.
âfuck yeah i do,â ellie says enthusiastically before kissing you.
abby watches as ellie kisses you, and the fire in her stomach is a mix of lust and envy.
ellieâs hands are gripping your hips as she presses you more into her. you run your tongue over her bottom lip and she moans, letting you into her mouth.
you feel a warm pressure against your back and you realize that itâs abby.
âmy turn, williams,â abby says, her hands gliding over your waist.
you break the kiss with ellie, and her pupils are dilated, her lips plump and wet with spit. âfuck.â
abby spins you around towards her and doesnât waste any time before kissing you, her arms wrapping around you.
you feel ellieâs hands roaming as you and abby kiss, and feel ellieâs pelvis pressing against your ass. it takes you a moment for you to realize that sheâs grinding herself against it, and the idea makes your underwear more soaked than it already was. abby nips at your bottom lip and you moan into her mouth.
ellieâs hands come down to palm and squeeze your ass.
âyouâre fucking perfect,â ellie murmurs, still humping your ass like a bitch in heat.
you pull back from abby to take off your shirt, leaving you in your jeans and bra.
abby starts kissing your neck and chest as ellie unclasps your bra, helping you take it off. as soon as itâs off, ellieâs hands reach around you to squeeze your breasts.
âjesus christâŠâ ellie whispers, rolling your nipples between her thumb and index finger as you moan softly.
abby breath is coming heavier as she manhandles you to sit on one of the benches in the locker room. you donât resist at all, completely ready for whatever comes next.
abby motions to ellie as she kneels between your legs, âcome on, thereâs one for each of us,â as she latches onto your nipple, sucking and squeezing one of your breasts.
ellie quickly goes beside abby, your legs spread as wide as they can with the two girls between them. ellie licks over your other nipple and blows on it, getting it hard.
âso fucking cute-â ellie says before suckling your breast as well, her eyes closed as she moans in the back of her throat.
you look down, and your clit is pulsing against the seam of your jeans as you watch both girls latched onto your breast.
ellie pulls back, watching abby suck on your breast with flushed cheeks. abby notices that ellie is watching her and she pulls back to see whatâs up. as soon as she does, ellie pulls her into a heated kiss.
youâre mesmerized as the two girls kiss each other aggressively, ellieâs hands coming up to tug on abbyâs hair. abby moans as she gropes ellieâs small chest through her shirt. when they detach, ellie stands up, her eyes sparkling.
âi have an idea,â ellie says as she goes over to her backpack, rummaging around through it until she pulls out a satin, black bag. she opens it and pulls out a purple strap-on.
abby laughs a little, âwilliams, why the fuck do you casually have a strap in your backpack? do you bring that to every game or something?â
ellieâs face goes red, âfuck you. i like to be prepared, itâs not my fault you donât have bitches. besides, are you complaining?â
abby snorts, âno, i guess iâm not.â
ellie takes off her shirt and pants, leaving her sports bra on as she puts on the strap. âanderson, lie down on the ground.â
too everyoneâs surprise, abby follows ellieâs order.
âgood girl.â ellie motions to you, âand you, take off your jeans and sit on her face, okay?â
you nod quickly, stripping completely naked before crawling onto abby. you look into your eyes, âyou okay with this?â
abby nods eagerly, âvery okay.â
you grin and situate yourself over her face, and you donât have any warning before abbyâs strong arms wrap around your thighs and pull you down so youâre fully sitting on her face.
you moan involuntarily as abbyâs tongue laps over your wet cunt, completely vulgar noises coming from her mouth with a muffled, âyou taste fucking incredible-â
ellie watches as abby pleasures you, and she rubs the base of the strap against her clit as she admires the two of you.
abby starts sucking on your clit and you moan loud, your eyes rolling back into your head. ellie approaches you two, watching abby eat you out.
ellie kneels down behind you, pressing her chest to your bare back, âwanna try and take me, baby?â
you nod eagerly, âplease.â
ellie doesnât need anyone confirmation before slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them as abby suckles your clit. you moan loudly, your breaths heavy.
âso fuckinâ tight⊠youâre gonna feel fucking incredible on my cock, baby, i promise-â ellie says as she takes out her fingers, sucking them clean, âfuck, abby wasnât lying, you taste good.â
ellie positions her strap, rubbing the tip over your folds to tease you a little. you whimper, and thatâs about all ellie can take before slipping the strap into you. youâre now on your hands and knees, with abby below you still at work on your clit, and ellie behind you as she starts thrusting into you.
âthat pretty pussy is so fucking desperate for us, huh?â ellie says, her core tight as she grips your hips.
you moan at that, nodding, intense pleasure coursing through your body.
ellie laughs a little, thrusting harder, âdo you have any fucking idea what you did to us out there, pretty girl? fucking distracting us- so fucking sexy-â ellie pants, her eyes rolling back as she gets the friction she needs on her clit.
your orgasm is rapidly approaching, your body overwhelmed with stimulation. âi-iâm gonna-â
you nearly scream as you climax, your legs shaking with pleasure as you writhe around. ellie watches with a big grin on her face, fucking you as hard and as fast as she can through it.
when you come down, abby lifts you off her face with ease, âmy turn.â
ellie takes off the strap and passes it to ellie, âoh, think you can fuck her better?â
abby huffs a laugh, âi know i can, williams.â
abby puts on the strap and strips off her clothes, keeping you in doggy as ellie comeâs around in front of your face. ellie takes off her sports bra and boxers, sitting in front of your and spreading her legs, exposing strings of her arousal between her thighs, her auburn bush soaked in pre-cum.
you waste no time before diving in, your tongue lapping up her juices. ellie grunts and her hands fly to your head, keeping you in place, âjesus fucking christ-â
abby takes this moment to lick your cunt up from behind, tasting your cum from your previous orgasm before lining the strap up with your entrance and thrusting in deep without warning.
you moan into ellieâs pussy, and thrust your tongue down her entrance before replacing it with two fingers. ellie moans again, her eyes squeezing shut.
ellie fucked you relentlessly and hard, making you see stars, but abby fucks you like sheâs trying to savor every moment, her eyes locked on your pussy as it stretches around the strap.
âyou were made to take this dick, oh my god,â abby moans, thrusting deep and slow.
ellie starts whimpering as you suck on her clit, thrusting your fingers hard into her.
abby laughs a little at ellieâs reaction, never having seen ellie so docile.
âawww, you just needed to get your shitty attitude fucked out of you, huh, williams?â
ellie can barely respond, her head tilted back as you pleasure her, her stomach muscles trembling.
abby starts fucking you a little faster, wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.
âcan you give me one, princess? i donât wanna be left outâŠâ abby says, her chest pressed against your back as she fucks you.
every time you moan against ellieâs clit, still sucking it, and it sends delicious vibrations through it, amplifying ellieâs pleasure and making her tip over the edge, crying out as she climaxes.
you work ellie through her climax, despite your 2nd impending climax building in your lower belly.
as soon as sheâs done, ellie stands up and moves behind abby, running her hands all over abbyâs body.
abby moans as ellie plays with her nipple, her other hand coming down to squeeze abbyâs ass before slipping a finger into abbyâs cunt as abby fucks you.
abby moans unexpectedly, âfucking christ- more, elllie-â
ellie grins and slips in another finger, pumping her fingers in time with abbyâs thrusts, curling them up each time ellieâs fingers bottom out.
abbyâs pants come quicker, rubbing your clit faster. just as youâre sent into your next orgasm, abby cries out, fucking herself into you as she cums on ellieâs fingers.
when you both come down, abby slowly slips out of you, sitting on the cold locker room floor and leaning against ellie as abby pulls you into her lap.
âfeeling okay?â abby asks as ellie brushes your hair out of your sweaty face.
you laugh weakly, still panting, âmuch better than okay.â
both girls giggle a little at that, and ellie asks with a cocky smirk, âso⊠who fucked you better?â
abby elbows ellie and ellie rolls her eyes, rubbing her arm.
you smirk a little and say, âhmmm⊠it was hard to tell. maybe weâll have to do this again sometime to repeat the study, yâknow?â
abby grins as ellie laughs, squeezing your thigh.
âwell, in that case, we have to. in the name of accurate results. science, even.â ellie says as she settles in to abbyâs side.
abby laughs this time, one arm wrapping around ellieâs bare shoulders, âdamn, i guess we do.â
#rose writes#ellie williams#tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x reader#tlou#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou#abby x reader#ellabs x reader#ellabs#abby anderson
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Ungodly Hour (7)
While having dinner with your family, you begin to see Jungkook in a new light.
Series Masterlist
Word Count: 4.962
Warning: kissing, simp jk, tsundere reader duh, baby fever, shower sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talking, unprotected sex, biting,
âAh, Y/N.â your mother looks over her shoulder at you, her eyes glazing behind you for a moment. âYouâre alone.â she notes matter-of-factly.
You scoff humorlessly. âJungkook had to visit his family before coming here.â you respond, kicking off your shoes. âHe should be here soon.â
You should have known coming here without Jungkook would result in your mother questioning you - curse Jeon Jungkook and his personality that has your mother loving him already.
Your mother makes her way towards you, wrapping you in an embrace. âIâm happy to hear that. I canât wait to see him again.â she says.Â
You roll your eyes.
Deep down, itâs nice knowing that your mother liked Jungkook. Her opinion on whoever you dated is important.
However - this was Jeon Jungkook youâre talking about. Everything he had said has come to life - even from the very beginning. You acknowledging him due to needing streaming services, you and him dating, your mother loving everything about him and to the worst of them all - you liking him. The man revels in the fact that he was winning whatever challenge you and he had and he wasnât even doing anything but being himself.Â
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.Â
âWhy didnât you go with him?â your mother asks when she releases you from her embrace. âHave you met his family already?â
You shake your head, glancing away.Â
You didnât want to admit that you were nervous because you were you - you never got nervous But you were new to this; meeting the family.Â
That, and Jungkook didnât necessarily ask if you wanted to come. âIâll be having breakfast with my parents.â he said, putting on a jacket. âYou can come if youâd like.â
That wasnât an invitation - and besides, you didnât want to intrude on a holiday. Jungkook doesnât see his parents as often as you do yours.
âThink they wouldnât like you?â your mother murmurs in a low, gossiping tone that you choose to ignore.
You greet your father silently - he was on a business call and appeared utterly miserable doing so. He hated talking, and each day you begin to realize that maybe you took more of his traits as you grew older.Â
You and your mother speak as she continues to cook - about anything that the conversation brings. It began with small talk - work and family gossip. She asks how you and Jungkook are and you answer as honestly as you could - she gushes how you appear to be âglowingâ and that itâs Jungkookâs doing, but youâd never give a man that much satisfaction.
It was another 20 minutes when Jungkook did arrive. He had knocked softly on the door and you instantly knew it was him. You were ready to retort snarky towards him when you swung the door open, but you stopped in your tracks.Â
âSorry Iâm late.â Jungkook speaks, a smile on his lips. The piercing slightly shines in the evening sun. Heâs dressed casually, a dark shirt with dark jeans that are ripped at the knees.Â
You notice Jungkookâs change immediately - his hair. His once long locks that sat on his shoulders have now been cut - the sides slightly shaved, and the top of his head, though longer than the sides, have but cut, as well. Thereâs a loose hair that falls slightly on his forehead and you swallow thickly.Â
In Jungkookâs hands are flowers - this time bought and not yanked from his neighbor's garden. Theyâre assorted - lilies, sunflowers, gerberas and more.Â
âYouâre late because you stopped and grabbed flowers.â you deadpan, opening the door wider. Jungkook steps inside your home and goes to kick off his shoes. âOf course.â he chuckles. âEverytime we go to the bakery besides the flower shop, I notice you look inside.â Jungkook explains.
Jungkook extends his arms to hand you the flowers, a soft look in his eyes. Your stomach begins to churn and your heart thump. âOh,â you murmur, glancing down at the bouquet of flowers now in your hands. âI didnât know you noticed that.â
Youâre embarrassed - you never knew Jungkook paid attention. It wasnât anything worth being embarrassed about - flowers are pretty and youâd often admire them whenever you could. You just never knew Jungkook had been observing you do so.Â
âOf course I do.â Jungkook responds. He steps closer to you to wrap an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. He inches his face closer to yours. âI watch you a lot.â
âStalker.â you retort with a lick of your lips, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips for a split second - a second that Jungkook catches.Â
âIâd prefer admirer.â Jungkook responds right before kissing your lips. âWhat lipgloss are you wearing? Tastes sweetâŠâ Jungkook kisses you once more, deepening it.Â
âItâs,â Jungkook interrupts your speech to kiss you once more. âmango,â and again, Jungkook kisses your lips. âKook-â Jungkook hums into the next peck of your lips.
You manage to push Jungkook away from you, your body rushing with heat. âYouâre so obsessed with me.â you roll your eyes, a smile forming onto your lips.
Jungkook chuckles heartily, embracing you tighter. âIâm your number one fan.â he says. âJust missed you is all.â
Your heart leaps once more - this time at his words. You push yourself away a bit more so you wouldnât fall into the rabbit hole that was Jeon Jungkook - you were in your parents home and you didnât need anyone seeing how truly down bad you were for Jungkook when he spoke so nicely to you.
Despicable, you think, a few nice words from Jungkook has you ready to be out of your panties. How far youâve fallen.
âYou cut your hair.â you say to change the subject, eyes darting up to the new cut. Your hand reaches for it, touching the sides with interest.Â
âI did.â Jungkook nods, leaning his head into your hand. âYou like it?â
You nod slightly, then huff. âItâs alright.â you shrug. You needed to regain your control over the situation - and the overall relationship. You canât keep falling for Jungkook and his traps.
Jungkook smiles widely. He wouldnât tell you, but you were the reason he cut it. He recalls you telling him once on a random occasion that he would look nice with a cut you have seen while scrolling on your phone. It was a side comment that you didnât think heâd take into consideration - and even now, heâs positive that you didnât even remember.Â
âWhat made you cut it?â you then ask, and Jungkookâs cheeks flushes. âWhat?â you say, snickering at the look on his face. âDid your little girlfriend suggest it?â
âMy little girlfriend?â Jungkook raises a brow, unsure what you were about to say next.Â
âYeah, Sia.â you say teasingly - but your eyes zone in on Jungkook as you wait for a reaction. Jungkook scoffs. âAh, weâre bringing up the girl that doesnât cross my mind in the slightest.â he says and itâs the truth. He would forget about Sia entirely if she didnât attempt - keyword: attempt - to speak with him.
âJust kidding.â you laugh. Your hand drops from his hair to his cheek. âI really do like it.â you murmur to him, a soft moment that youâd allow him to have - just this once.
Jungkookâs smile widens slightly, but thereâs a glint in his eyes. âYou want to sit on my face so bad, baby.â he murmurs.
âUgh,â you push Jungkook away. âas if.â You do - and Jungkook knows it, too. But youâd have to deny it until it was time to actually do the deed.Â
Jungkook is quick to wrap and arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for a side-ways hug. âWeâll worry about that later.â thereâs a quick peck thatâs placed on your forehead. âLet me greet my in-laws.â
âYouâre not my husband.â
Jungkook doesnât let up. âYet.â he says, sending you a wink.Â
Your mother is first to greet Jungkook, appearing far too excited to see him than she was seeing you prior. She wraps Jungkook in a hug. âYouâre so handsome with your haircut!â she says.
You roll your eyes hard, placing the bouquet of flowers down on the kitchen table.
âThank you.â Jungkook beams at the compliment.Â
âDoesnât he look handsome, Y/N?â your mother then turns to you.
You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are looking at you along with your mothers. His eyebrows wiggle - he was enjoying this entirely.
âI seen better.â
Your mother gasps at your words and Jungkook only laughs because he knows your true feelings.Â
âItâs not like she had a lot of boyfriends. She was always so mean to the opposite sex.â your mother tells Jungkook with a shake of her head. âI donât know how you deal with her.â
Youâre taken aback for a moment, your ears perking at the conversation.Â
âY/N knows she canât run me away.â Jungkook says to your mother. âI know how to deal with her just fine.â
Your eyes widen slightly at Jungkookâs words, your lips forming into a thin line. You shake your head at Jungkook - you didnât need him insinuating anything sexual.
âYou have to treat him right, Y/N. Heâs such a sweetheart!â your mother turns to look at the bouquet of flowers with a huff, trying to rack her brain and remember when was the last time she received one.
âJungkookâs not going anywhere.â you snort. âIs dinner almost done?â
âYes!â your mother rounds the corner to go towards the stove.Â
âRight.â you turn to Jungkook. âIâm gonna go wash my hands.â
âI will, too.â Jungkook follows close behind you, his eyes glancing around the walls as you walk down the hallway - thereâs pictures of you and your brother from different stages of life and some family pictures.
You open the door to the bathroom and venture inside, flicking the light on. âDonât let my moms words get to your big ass head.â
Jungkook follows behind you, closing the door slightly. You turn on the water and begin washing your hands. âI will. She called me handsome.â
You roll your eyes. âShe makes it seem like youâre trapped.â
âNever!â Jungkook wraps his arms around you, his eyes on your reflection in the mirror just as you were finishing drying your hands. âIâm here willingly.â Jungkookâs lips place themselves on the nape of your neck and he kisses it. âYou already said it. Iâm not going anywhere.â
You bite your lip and turn off the faucet and wave your hands a bit to get the excess water off. You know what Jungkook is doing - you arenât a fool. Him kissing your neck in this exact spot isnât something innocent. âMy parents are literally in the other room.â you sigh.Â
Jungkook now has his arms wrapped around you, him standing directly behind you. One hand holds you in place by your waist while the other roams upwards. He grips your breast teasingly before placing it on your neck.Â
âI just want a kiss.â Jungkook responds innocently - and you know itâs all a facade.Â
âIt always starts with you wanting a kiss.â you grumble. Jungkookâs breath is warm against your neck. âThen it ends with-â
âYou sitting on my face. Iâm aware.â Jungkook presses another kiss against your neck. âI just want a kiss, Y/N. Thatâs all. I promise.â
The hand that lays on your neck rises to your chin and gently, Jungkook pushes it to the right. âJust one.â you murmur, your defensive walls crumbling yet again. You curse yourself because of course Jeon fucking Jungkook was winning the battle. âThen you have to get the fuck off of me.â
Jungkook laughs at your response. âOf course.â
Jungkook connects your glossy lips to his own and lowly, he groans. He was positive he kissed all of the gloss from your lips - but maybe you put more on when he wasnât looking.Â
The hand on your waist tightens and you know just what Jungkook was thinking.Â
âThatâs enough.â you murmur weakly, but Jungkook only kisses down your jaw to your neck again.Â
âOkay.â Jungkook sighs. âYou smell so good.â he compliments. âTaste good tooâŠâ
âStop.â you respond firmly. You were a whore for praises - and Jungkook knows this. Even if you would insult him or call him a simp, it wouldnât faze the man because he knows that deep down, you enjoy it.
âStop what? Complimenting you?â Jungkook snickers.Â
âI know what youâre trying to do.â you argue. âYou want to-â
The door to the bathroom - which was never closed to begin with, just cracked - slams open. Immediately, you and Jungkook are startled, jumping away from one another and turning around to see just who had made their presence known.
âIs that your boyfriend?â
Immediately, your shoulders relax at the sight of your niece - for someone so young and only the age of 8, she was a lot to handle. Oftentimes youâd forget that you were the adult in the situation, bickering with her whenever and would be confused to be her older sister when out in public instead of her aunt.Â
âWhy are you here?â
âRude.â she murmurs, crossing her arms. âMy dad says weâre here to meet your boyfriend.â
Jungkook looks at the small child and instantly, he sees you. He blinks between the two of you, slightly amused at the sight and also afraid to speak.
âHow does-â you sigh, already knowing the answer. Youâre sure your mother had told him about dinner, invited not only him, but his children - especially his oldest child - to torment you further. â-this is Jungkook.â you sigh, waving lazily. She was going to pry into your life until you gave her what she wanted.Â
âJungâŠkookâŠâ she says his name, looking up at the taller man. âOkay.â
Jungkook watches as your niece turns away and skips down the hall.
âWow sheâs-â Jungkook begins.
âAnnoying?â you snort, turning towards him.Â
âI was going to say just like you. So cute.â Jungkook snickers.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Thereâs something about the way Jungkook looks right now.
Of course, the hair. The cut looks amazing on him and somehow appears even hotter than usual. The tattoos and piercings are always a plus - but that wasnât it.
Jungkookâs holding your nephew. Heâs only one and in the stage that heâs learning how to walk. Your mother and father are chatting amongst each other and your brother and you had just got done having a heated debate about if tomato was a fruit or a vegetable.
Somehow, your niece managed to sit directly beside Jungkook and talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time, and the man appeared entirely too intrigued about her meaningless conversation. And with how interested his sister looked with Jungkook, only made your nephew be, as well, crawling over and demanding to be picked up and sat in his lap.
Maybe that was it - the way Jungkook looked holding your nephew. He wasnât a baby, but he looked smaller than he truly was in Jungkookâs arms. He appears utterly content being held by the stranger and Jungkook allows him to play with the rings on his fingers while he listens to your niece talk.
You glance away from the scene for a moment to collect your thoughts, grumbling something under your breath.
âHe must really like you.â your motherâs words have you coming back to reality. âHe doesnât really like being held.â
You frown at the sight of Jungkook and your nephew now because it was causing a weird pull in your heart that has your mind racing at what in the world it could be.Â
Your brother and you make eye contact, both knowing where your mother was going with this.
âDo you want kids, Jungkook?â
You groan with a roll of your eyes. âMother-â
âYes, I do.â Jungkook answers immediately. He bounces your nephew on his leg, his hand being tugged by the toddler. âMaybe two one day.â
Donât entertain her, you want to tell Jungkook. Your mother would never stop digging deeper and asking more questions.Â
âOh, really? When do you two-â
âIâm gonna have to stop you right there.â you intervene, body flushing with heat. You take a sip of your water before continuing. âMother, please.â
To your mother, the sooner you and Jungkook started a family, the better. She was growing to like him and that meant that she would be pushing the act of marriage and having children with you more often - even before you finished college.Â
âIâm just saying,â your mother is quick to defend herself. âJungkook looks like heâs amazing with children.â
Fuck Jeon Jungkook because now you were never going to hear the end of this.
Your brother is amused with the interaction as it reminds him when he was in your shoes with his current wife that his mother had adored similarly to Jungkook.Â
âIâll have to ask Y/N to marry me first.â Jungkook chuckles. âGetting her to be my girlfriend was a challenge alone.â
âGood luck getting me to say yes.â you grumble, crossing your arms. You try to be as offish as you could be to get the thoughts out of your head - the thoughts of Jungkook holding a cute baby that possibly looked exactly like him.
A baby with big doe eyesâŠ
A baby with squishy cheeksâŠ
A baby with a wide toothless grin smiling up at youâŠ
Oh fuck, you think. This feeling couldnât be baby fever. That could not be what you were feeling while watching Jungkook and your nephew - surely not. The last thing you ever wanted was a child - especially not with him. No, you need to push out all the thoughts of that. Thereâs no way youâd imagine how good of a father Jungkook would be; how attentive and kind and loving -Â
You want to gag and your eyes glare at the culprit - Jungkookâs eyes already on you and his lips twitching upward as if he knows what youâre thinking right now.
âFuck Jeon Jungkook.â you say aloud accidently, fully intending on saying it in your mind and hoping it would telepathy transfer to the man.
âY/N!â Jungkook only laughs as your mother goes to scold you, your brother following suit.
âY/N, I have to buy it for her!â Jungkook pleads with wide eyes. âShe called me Uncle!â
âCanât you tell sheâs playing you?â you sigh with a shake of your head. âSheâs 8. She doesnât even call me her aunt.â
âMaybe if you bought her a Barbie dream house she would.â Jungkook says, turning his phone around to show you said dream house your niece had asked for at dinner.Â
You blink a few times to process Jungkookâs words and then you shake your head once more. âYou already bought it, didnât you?â you ask suspiciously. When Jungkook doesnât respond, your eyes widen. âYouâre unbelievable. How could you let a child play you?â
Jungkook places his phone onto his bed and follows you into the bathroom. âBut she called me UncleâŠâ he trails off.Â
âShe did that because she knows how soft you are.â you roll your eyes, kicking off your clothes and begin to turn on the shower. âShe already has one.â
Jungkook isnât fazed. âI know. She told me.â he says. âBut this one is bigger.â
You should have known Jungkook would fall victim to your niece. She could be sweet when she wanted to, and cutesy. Of course, that was before she ran your pockets dry with whatever doll, dollhouse or slime she desired.
And all she had to do was call Jungkook uncle - she could smell the weak ones a mile away.
âWhen we have a daughter, Y/N, you canât be jealous when I buy her things.â Jungkook says jokingly - itâs only done to get a reaction out of you.Â
You turn around hastily to glare at Jungkook, body heating up. âIâm not-â
âI donât want to hear anything else you have to say.â Jungkook interrupts. âLetâs take a shower without you denying me our future.â
Jungkook proceeds to strip as you enter the shower and goes to do the same. âDoes the water have to be this hot?â he murmurs.Â
âYes.â you respond without saying anything further. If he wanted to shower with you it was something he was going to have to deal with.
Jungkook stands behind you, hands on your shoulders. He begins to rub them, enjoying how close he gets to be to you. âYou have work tomorrow?â he asks after a moment.
âYeah.â you respond, eyes fluttering close. The water burns heavenly against your skin as Jungkookâs hands work on your shoulders. âI donât wanna go.â
âYou donât have to.â Jungkook suggests, working his hands to your neck. âWe can just stay in bed together.â
You snort. âThere you go again trying to get me to leave my job.â
âYou constantly talk about the co-worker twice your age arguing with you.â
âBecause,â you turn around so fast that Jungkook flinches. âthe bitch had the nerve to tell me that I was wrong when I was told to stock the shelves!â
The water is burning Jungkookâs skin and he contemplates if he should have showered with you today - but nonetheless, he places his hands back onto your shoulders, you now facing him.Â
âYeah.â Jungkook nods quickly, because if he didnât then youâd revert your anger towards him for losing track of what you were saying. âFuck her. I bet sheâs just jealous of you.â itâs always safer to agree with you than disagree.
Your shoulders relax and you close your eyes. Jungkook watches you, just wondering how your body can stand such hot water trailing down your skin.
Naked skinâŠ
Such soft naked skin, gentle to the touch. Warm skin that he loves touching and rubbingâŠ
âIs that your dick against my thigh?â you ask without opening your eyes because you know the answer.Â
âI canât help it.â Jungkook quips. âYou look so beautifulâŠâ he trails off, slightly embarrassed that it doesnât take long for him to get hard.
You open your eyes and look at Jungkook, blinking away the droplets of water. You would usually say something snarky - how obsessed he was with you. But in the end, you and he already knew as such - and he would always agree with your words.
So instead, you smile - a genuine smile that has Jungkookâs cheeks burning and his cock hardening even more.
âYouâre so cute.â you tell Jungkook, placing your hands on his chest. You rub up and past his shoulders, to his neck and then his cheeks. You gently pull on them. âSo, so, cute.â
âIâm a man.â Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he allows you to tease him as much as youâd like. âMen canât be cute.â
âSure they can.â you snort. âYouâre cute.â you place your hands on his shoulders once more. âLike a little puppy always humping my leg.â
Jungkook releases a deep laugh at your words. He brings you closer to him, wrapping you into an embrace.Â
âI got you a gift.â you say after a few moments of being in Jungkookâs arms. âI hid it under the bed since you donât look under there often.â
Jungkook hums. âYou got me a gift?â he asks. âI wasnât expecting one.â
âOf course you weren't.â you retort. âYou always buy me thingsâŠI figured I should get you a little christmas gift.â you say, suddenly nervous.
Jungkook nods his head. âThank you.â he murmurs. âI got you something-â
âYou have to be kidding me.â you groan, pushing away from him slightly. âI told you not to buy-â
âI didnât!â Jungkook shakes his head hastily, chuckling at your reaction. You had insisted on Jungkook not wasting any more money during the holiday season - even if he never truly listened to you. âI actually made you something.â
You furrow your brows and tilt your head. Jungkookâs not lying, you note. âMade me somethingâŠ?â youâre skeptical of what Jungkook had made you. Heâs artistic you know, very creative in his own right - it was one of the reasons as to why you got him the gift you did. âThank you.â you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. âMy momâs convinced that Iâll have you running away soon if I donât treat you right.â
âYou treat me just right.â Jungkook hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. âI know how to handle you.â
Jungkookâs hands hold your waist.Â
âBesides, I promised your mother that Iâll give her adorable grandchildren-â
âYou always know how to ruin the moment, huh?â you grumble.Â
âDonât be like that, baby. I saw the look in your eyesâŠâ Jungkook turns you around, your back to him. He holds you close against his body, hands roaming your own. â...I know baby fever when I see it.â
âFuck you.â you hiss - that comes off more like a moan. Jungkookâs hands are now groping your breast in his hands, the hot water burning your skin and causing even more arousal to run through you.Â
âItâs okay to admit, baby. I think Iâd be a hot dad.â Jungkook jokes, his lips on your neck. âBut that wonât happen until after weâre married.â
âAs if Iâd say yes.â
âYou will.â Jungkook hums, teeth grazing the skin of your neck. âThat wonât be until weâre both ready, though. Until thenâŠâ
Jungkookâs hand trails between your legs, fingers rubbing gently onto your clit. His free hand places itself onto your neck to lean your head back against him. âYouâre so pretty.â
âThank you.â you moan, Jungkookâs fingers twirling around your clit. He forces your legs apart so he can feel even more of you. âYou are, too.â
âPretty?â Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. âThank you.â
â...âwant you.â you moan, your hand gripping his wrist. âDonât wanna wait.â
âYouâre always impatient.â Jungkook snorts.
âWe still have the entire night.â you say, removing Jungkookâs fingers from your clit. You bring Jungkookâs hand towards your lips and bring his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls onto his fingers, knowing that the act would drive Jungkook wild.Â
Jungkook groans and without warning, presses you to the shower wall. You yelp at feeling the cold tile, but donât complain. You just needed Jungkook inside of you now.
âYouâre so pretty.â Jungkook whimpers, entering his cock inside of you. âSo perfect for me.â
Your hands hold onto the tile walls for support as Jungkook goes deeper into you.Â
Jungkook shudders, one hand on your waist and the other above your hand on the wall. He starts slow, enjoying the way your pussy takes him so good. Thereâs something about how tight you always are that drives him crazy - how wet and warm and willing you are for him. He could never get tired of it.
âFeels so good.â you whimpered and itâs enough for Jungkook to pick up the pace.Â
âYeah?â Jungkook presses his lips against your shoulder blades. âI love the way you feel.â
Jungkook plunges deeper inside of you, his only thought right now was to cum and make you cum with him.Â
Jungkookâs teeth lightly bite down on your shoulder blade, short breaths releasing from his lips. He places his fingers back onto your clit - he loves giving you double the pleasure.Â
You bite your lips hard - fuck Jeon Jungkook and his hands never staying off of your clit. He always made it difficult for you to remain snippy with him, especially when he fucks you so good.Â
As for Jungkook, his fingers never cease their rubbing. Thereâs something about your moans that often sets him off - to always want to pleasure you until the very end of it all.
Jungkook thrusts into you a little harder; more needily. Over the sound of the running shower water, Jungkookâs thrust is heard. Skin slapping echo throughout the bathroom, the burning sensation of the water he has since grown accustomed to.
âMy pretty girl,â Jungkook breaths. âIâll have to propose to you in the middle of fucking you.â
âShut-â your words are interrupted with Jungkook removing his cock out of you to crash right back inside, pressing you firmly against the wall.
âEventually youâd admit just how much you like me, baby. But Iâll never be going away.â
âS-Shut up.â you hiss against the wall, feeling Jungkookâs palm tighten its hold onto your hand. âI do like you.â
Jungkook snorts. âI know, baby.â is all he says before he continues to ram deep inside of you, his focus now fully on cumming - the quicker he did, the quicker he and you could do this again later.
Your walls, so humid and velvety, are preparing to milk him for everything - and he was preparing to give them to you. They twitch around his cock so lovingly and he knows you want him to cum in you like he always does.
âPlease,â you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around his cock that Jungkook couldn't help but choke. âplease cum in me.â
Jungkook doesnât know when the last time you begged him to cum in you in such a way, but that didnât matter to him. He was going to give you what you wanted like he always did; it never took much convincing. He closes his eyes, mind wandering in how full he could make you with his cum.
How beautiful youâd look full of his cumâŠ
How your skin would have a flushed glow to itâŠ
How perfect you would look with a rounded stomachâŠ
âFuckâŠ!â Jungkook cums the hardest heâs ever had, surprised with himself at his own thoughts of you. He twitches, unable to let you go and fully unaware that his hand that once cupped your waist instead cupped your stomach.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook thinks himself.
Series Masterlist
@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk
#ungodly hour#explicit-tae#simp jk#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#btswritersclub#bangtanwritershq#btsmasterlist2022#bts smut#bangtan smut#btswritingcafe#bangtanwriters net#btswriterscollective#bts fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts college au
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You had me at LaDs again... đ„°
Time to spam the inbox.
SFW: In the language of flowers, what bouquet would each of boys create for their dear Hunter and why?
Flowers For You
Zayne:
I feel like this one is obvious but it would be jasmines.
Jasmines represent love, beauty, and sensuality, qualities I think represent Zayne's romantic side very well.
Jasmines represent immortal love. There's a legend from an Indian text about a princess falling in love with a sun god, and is murdered by her jealous ex-lover(Astra is that you?) because of it. When the princess's ashes are scattered, jasmines bloom from them. I'd like to think that even after all the misfortune Zayne has suffered, his love remains unwavering.
Their scent promotes relaxation but is also an aphrodisiac
Xavier:
Sunflowers. There's just nothing else to represent this man's light.
They represent strength, good fortune and loyalty. Considering how much space travel Xavier has done to find his queen, these qualities portray him accurately. He's endured a lot, and despite the urgency to save Philos, he remains loyal to his woman and takes a strong show of character as well.
They also are a symbol of hope, also tying in with Xavier's story that perhaps saving Philos does not mean having to lose the love of his life
Rafayel:
He'd send tulips. The variety of colors they come in brings out his artsy side.
Tulips represent unconditional love and rebirths which tie into his lore where he loves MC anyway despite her betrayal, and him hoping there's a better chance for their love with each new life he finds her in.
His bouquet would be full of red and pinks, since they represent affection and devotion.
Sylus:
Despite everything, Sylus is a traditional man. He'd send roses.
The classic flower to indicate romantic interest, he's going to make sure you're aware of his intentions. He'll probably send bouquets to your office, much to the envy of your colleagues, usually without a card because it's obvious who they're from.
He'll have Mephisto sneak single roses into random spots; your car's windshield, your kitchen window, on your pillow. It's his way of letting you know he's thinking of you.
© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus x reader#sylus love and deepspace#lads smut#zayne smut#xavier smut#rafayel smut#lads sylus#lads x reader#lads x you#lads rafayel#lads zayne#lads xavier#love and deepspace x you#l&ds x you#sylus x you#sylus smut#l&ds fic#lads angst#love and deepspace smut#ncs#ncs scribbles
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Flowers In Your Hair
For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rating: General
W/C: 1249
Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness
Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.
___
âRobin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?â
Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.
Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. âFlowers? Really?â
Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. âWhat? You think a man canât buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?â
Robin scoffed. âNo. JustâŠwhy flowers?â
âItâs romantic!â Eddie whined. âWe have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentineâs Day I got him chocolates and roses and you shouldâve seen his face, honestly if we hadnât been in public I probably wouldâve got on my knees there and then -â
Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. âJesus, enough.â
Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robinâs palm.
She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. âMunson, that was disgusting.â
Eddie shrugged. âYou love me, though.â
âSteve loves you,â Robin corrected. âAnd so, by extension, Iâm unfortunately forced to too.â She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. âSeriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.â She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.
Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. âHelp me?â he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.
She screwed up her nose a little before responding. âHonestly, I donât know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?â
âWell, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.â
Robin shrugged. âJust get him anything, then. Itâs from you, so heâll love it.â
âBut I want to get his favourite,â Eddie lamented. âHe deserves the best.â
âWell, I agree with you there.â
âEddie?â
A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.
âYeah, supergirl?â
âYou wanted to know Steveâs favourite flowers?â
Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. âYeah, I do.â
El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. âSteve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steveâs favourites are yellow ones.â
And thatâŠmade sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steveâs favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasnât sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldnât afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?
Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, âThe Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.â
âThe old Mayor?â Eddie asked with a frown.
âYup.â
A smile slowly spread across his face.
âThere are marigolds by the school field,â El added. âAnd yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.â
And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Klineâs fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.
At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.
He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.
âThat guyâs an asshole,â she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. âServes him right.â
They couldnât move too quickly â Maxâs bones had healed, but she wasnât exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddieâs van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.
Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didnât care â this was for Steve.
By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopperâs cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.
âThere,â El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. âTheyâre pretty. Like Steve.â
Eddie spluttered a little at Elâs directness. âOhâŠyeah. Yeah, they are. He is.â
El nodded. âMax often says so, too.â
âOh my god, shut up,â Max yelled from Elâs room.
Eddie smirked, because the girlâs little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. âItâs ok Max, I agree with you.â
Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddieâs hands, and then took Elâs arm and pulled her back towards the room.
Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steveâs before their dinner plans.
Waiting in front of his boyfriendâs door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.
This is stupid.
Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasnât going to appreciate some yellow flowers.
Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.
Almost.
Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddieâs hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girlsâ hair.
Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.
It opened after a moment.
âEds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -â Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.
Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. âFor you. If, umâŠif you want them. Sorry if itâs stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldnât afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -â
Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.
When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. âYou like them, then?â
âI love them, Eds.â
___
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Animal Party!
The harbingers finding out you had a pet
(Some of the animals are tigers lions bears sharks etc etc, characters might be a bit OOC cuz this is kinda a crackfic but if yall want more srs ones lmk)
Tartaglia
For him Lets say you had a pet bear it would go kinda like this, since you and him live in a big house you wanted a big backyard, he never knew why but he Never said no, his siblings could run around there so when he came home from work you were not anywhere to be found.. until he heard you call someone a âgoodboyâ from the backyard, his bow was already drawn as he would have a stern expression on his face until he saw you with a bear. â[NAME]âŠâ âSo i forgot to tell youâŠâ âWHY DIDNâT YOU THEM ME SOONER?! HEâS SO CUTE!â overall tatamis loves the bear
Scaramouche
For Scaramouche you had a cat a fluffy white one, this time you went over to visit him with your cat just hanging out in her purse âTook you long enough-⊠What the fuck is that..â âIts [CATS NAME]âŠâ I deeply feel like scaramouche would be jealous if the cat took to much of your attention but would warm up to the cat, not enough to not show at least a HINT of jealousy
Arlecchino
So You had a spider for this (if you dont like spiders then imagine something else) and again you went to visit her, Arlecchino actually does like spiders (or just insects in general based on voice lines) so wheb she sees one crawling on you she was surprised that you had one just hanging around, She doesnât mind it and also gets close to the spider, Leney (idk if i spelt his name right) almost killed it becuase he thought it was creepyđ
Signora
You have a silly little snake!!! This can go either way you visit her, she visits you..OR she sees it slithering around and she calls you over â[NAME]! WHAT THE FUCKââ âSignora! You found [SNAKE NAME]! Thank you!!â Signora would be surprised and confused..how can you live with thatâŠTHING?! Why is it built like that⊠Signora is ALRIGHT with your pet she isnât to fond with it but would take care of it for you
Pantalone
You have a cat! Not the small one a BIG one so.. a lion for him you TOLD him you had a cat..just not what KIND of cat âPantalone do you want to see my pet?â âOf course [NAME] it cant go that bad..â It went that bad, when he came to visit you and saw a whole ass LION he froze when did you get the beast?! âHa..[NAME] you said you had a cat..â âI know! This is [LIONS NAME]!â âWhy didnt you say that you had a lion?â âIt was less fun..â hes alright its pretty tame, (might get a little jealous from all the attention the lions gettingâŠ)
Dottore
Simple way to put it, you have a shark said and done same with Pantalone you TOLD him just not that detailed in your words âDottore you like fish right? You wana meet mine?â âSure, I suppose it wouldnât be that much of a hassle..â Well when he cane over he wondered why your house had a pool in the backyard, until he saw the fin sticking out of the water âSee Dottore? This is [SHARK NAME]! âYou said you had a fishâ He doesnât really care for it because he doesnât go swimming often or study the oceans yet but he isnât going to tell you to give it away
Columbina
You had a swan, a elegant animal it was plain and simple so there isnât that much convincing that the animal WONT hurt them, You and Columbina have hang outs (aka dates..) by the pond, She only REALLY opens her eyes around you (she wears the mask so she wouldnât fall in love with someone else again but your a exception) and saw that you had a swan with you she was like a kid in a candy shop in her eyes it was a perfect animal for someone as perfect as you! She loves your swan and has a good relationship with it
Sandrone
You had a hamster (a FAT one) it was just in your hands eating sunflower seeds (ofc it is..) as you were going to find your beloved Sandrone â[NAME] whats the dust in your hand for?â âIts my Hamster!â âWhat..â Sandrone is sarcastic so she does make jokes how its a fucking FATASS but she secretly thinks its cute and would do anything for that little fur-ball
Capitano
You have a fox! I feel like when he found out you didnât know he was off today, so you were outside playing with your little fox friend while he looked at you, even if his face was covered he had a small soft smile who ever knew that his s/o could be so cute..but he doesnât know much about taking care of animals so he loves hearing you talk about it and slowly warms up to your fox!^^
Peirro
Last but not least! You owned a monkey (or a spider monkey) but you and your monkey go EVERYWHERE together so its not hard for him to figure it out, since you two starting dating he was introduced to your monkey, he doesnât mind that silly little fella he just wants to spend time with you and sometimes when your off doing errands or something else, your monkey just hangs out with Peirro, one time, Peirro had the monkey on his shoulders while in a fatui meeting (I feel like any of them would take your pet to a metting when there good with them, besides the shark⊠sadly)
(We are finished! I really hoped you enjoyed this!!^^ Tags: @jadestone2 )
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#harbingers#fatui#harbingers x reader#fatui harbingers x reader#fatui x reader#capitano x reader#tartaglia#capitano#tartaglia x reader#columbina#columbina x reader#arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#pantalone#pantalone x reader#sandrone#sandrone x reader#dottore#dottore x reader#la signora#signora x reader#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#Pierro#pierro x reader#pearlsrequests
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Floral Sentiments
pham hanni x fem!reader
notes: found this random prompt on this site so might as well try to write something with it 'cause I was too lazy to think of an actual plot oiaiwdiwd (adv happy birthday hanni :DD)
warning/s: first post wapondiwnf
genre: fluff
prompt: person a owns a flower shop and person b comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says âhow do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?â
Hanni was used to quiet mornings in her flower shop. The soft hum of the shop's speakers, mingling with the subtle fragrance of fresh blooms, always put her at ease. Sipping her tea, she glanced at her to-do listârearranging vases, watering the orchidsânothing out of the ordinary. She figured it would be a slow day. No major holidays loomed on the horizon, aside from those quirky ones no one really celebrated. Who the hell buys flowers for No Pants Day?
Mid-rearranging a vase of sunflowers, their golden petals glowing like tiny suns, the familiar chime of the doorbell broke her tranquility. She turned to see a girl, about her age, standing by the counter. Dark eyes, arms crossed, a scowl softening as she took in the shopâs surroundings. Hanni removed her gloves and walked over, curiosity piqued.
The girl slapped a $20 bill on the counter without so much as a greeting. âHow do I passive-aggressively say âfuck youâ in flowers?â
Hanni blinked. Did I hear that right? She tilted her head slightly, unsure how to respond.
"Uh, excuse me, what?" Hanni asked, her voice tentative. She tried not to stare, but the girl's unexpected beauty and intensity threw her off balance.
âDid I stutter?â the girl snapped, though the sharpness in her voice softened. Her shoulders relaxed, and a small, awkward smile crept across her lips. âSorry. That came out wrong.â
Hanni let out a breath she didnât realize she was holding. âNo worries,â she said, grinning. âJust... Iâve never had that kind of request before.â
The girl chuckled, her posture loosening even more. "Yeah, I figured. Thanks for not kicking me out. Iâm Y/N, by the way."
âHanniâ she replied, still amused by the oddness of it all.
Y/N nodded, then sighed, frustration flickering across her face. âLong story, trust me.â
âWell,â Hanni said, glancing around the empty shop, âlucky for you, Iâve got all day.â
She gestured for Y/N to take a seat, and the girl hesitated before pulling out a chair from the corner of the small shop. As Y/N settled down, Hanni caught a glimpse of the tension in her faceâsomething deeper than just the initial shock value of the request.
âSo,â Hanni began, âwhatâs the story behind the flower-inspired âfuck youâ?â
Y/N leaned back, exhaling as if she were about to confess a deep secret. She stared at a bouquet nearby, eyes narrowing. âSo, thereâs this guyâŠâ
Hanni raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, letting Y/N explain. Flower shop drama wasnât new to her, but Y/N didnât seem like the type to send a bouquet for a simple apology.
âHeâs my co-worker. Always making these little commentsâlike, pretending to compliment me but really putting me down,â Y/N muttered, frustration clear in her voice.
âBackhanded compliments,â Hanni said knowingly.
âExactly. So, I want to give him something subtle that says, âIâm not as dumb as you think I am, and you should really watch yourself.ââ Y/N smirked, her intensity returning.
Hanniâs eyes lit up with a playful glint. âOh, I can work with that.â
She moved around the shop, scanning the flowers and tapping her chin in thought. A few minutes later, she started rearranging various blooms, carefully crafting a combination that would carry the perfect passive-aggressive undertone. Y/N watched as Hanni worked, her frown melting into curiosity.
The bouquet slowly took shape, flowers layered in ways that would seem beautiful at first glance but carried hidden messages for those who knew what to look for. Hanni worked in silence, fully focused, occasionally glancing up to see if Y/N approved. Y/N, for her part, seemed content to let Hanni work her magic.
After what felt like a short eternity, Hanni stepped back, admiring her creation. âThere you go,â she said, giving a small, satisfied smile. âThis should get your message across.â
Y/N inspected the bouquet with a satisfied smile. âThis is perfect. Thanks, Hanni.â
As she reached for her bag, she paused, as if considering something. âHey, one more thingâŠâ
Hanni, still basking in the satisfaction of crafting such an unusual bouquet, looked up. âYeah?â
Y/N hesitated for a moment, an almost shy look crossing her face. âIf I wanted to, you know, take someone out on a date⊠What kind of flowers should I get?â
The question caught Hanni off guard. A small, inexplicable pang of disappointment bloomed in her chest. She forced a smile, her thoughts racing. So she likes someone already?
âOh, well⊠Iâd say something simple, elegant. Something that shows interest but not too over the top. MaybeâŠâ She trailed off, resisting the urge to let her emotions show. After a brief pause, Hanni quickly pulled together a response that was vague but safe. âSomething that makes a good impression, but leaves room for more.â
Y/N smiled, clearly liking the idea. âGot it. Thanks again, Hanni.â
With that, Y/N turned and left, bouquet in hand, the bell above the door chiming softly as she disappeared into the street.
Hanni stood there, watching her leave, a strange heaviness settling in her chest. She shook her head, trying to brush off the disappointment. It was silly.
Y/N was just another customer⊠right?
=========
The next day, Hanni arrived at her shop early, her thoughts still swirling with the remnants of her encounter with Y/N. As she approached the door, ready to unlock it, something caught her eye.
On the doorstep lay a beautiful bouquet, a gorgeous arrangementâsimple, elegant, just like she had described, wrapped delicately in brown paper and tied with twine. A note was tucked among the flowers, and Hanniâs heart raced as she crouched down to pick it up.
Opening the note, she read:
âFor you. Hope you like them. - Y/Nâ
Below the message, Y/Nâs number was written neatly in her familiar handwriting. Hanni stared at the flowers, a warm smile spread across her face as she took in the arrangement. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what had just happened.
As she finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, the sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the flowers. She placed the bouquet on the counter, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest.
Maybe Y/N wasnât just another customer after all.
#newjeans imagines#new jeans x reader#newjeans x reader#newjeans imagine#hanni x reader#newjeans#newjeans hanni#kpop x reader
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If We're Being Honest [2/2]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Part1]
Summary: It's been a couple of months since you drunkenly kissed Matt and you've been avoiding him ever since, but Matt realizes that your absence from his life afterwards pained him more than he ever could've imagined.
Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader, fluff at the end
a/n: The second and final part of this little fic is finally here! Hopefully the comfort is satisfying enough after the angsty first part. You also get Matt's POV in the first half of this one. Feedback is always appreciated!
Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @lotrefcp @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte
Matt slid his desk chair back with a sigh, relieved the frustrating work day had finally come to an end. Standing up, his hands felt around his desk for the mess of papers heâd had scattered along it. He gathered them up, neatly stacking them together before he stuffed them back into the folder they'd initially been inside. Bending over, his back muscles protesting the movement from his previous night out as Daredevil, he picked up his briefcase that was leaning against his desk on the floor. Placing the briefcase on top of his desk, he packed the folder inside before closing it up and tossing the strap of the bag over his head, taking a moment to position it comfortably along his shoulder.Â
Making his way around his desk afterwards, one of his hands absently grabbed his folded up cane from off of it as he headed towards the door of his office. He could already hear Karen and Foggy in the firm's main room, the pair of them clearly talking about wedding related things. As he stepped out of his office and into the room, he could feel the air shift minutely as both of them looked over in his direction.
âMore wedding details, Fog?â Matt asked, walking over to where the pair were leaning against the front office desk.
âDid you know that absolutely everything is a detail?â Foggy complained. âLike napkins. Did you know napkins mattered? Because I didn't. They're literally meant to wipe your dirty face and hands on, why does it matter what they look like? Or what material itâs made out of? It's a napkin!â
âDon't let Marci hear you say that,â Karen teased.
Matt could hear the way her fingers were tapping away at the screen of her phone. Probably sending a text message from the sounds of it.Â
âI just want a break from all the wedding planning,â Foggy grumbled. âI feel like half our place is currently storage for some binder or seating chart or wedding magazine or stack of business cards and pamphlets.â
âWell you'll get a bit of a break from it this weekend,â Karen assured him, setting her phone onto the desk beside her. âWhen we go wedding dress shopping with Marci on Saturday. She'll be talking all our ears off about the details for the whole day instead of yours.â
Foggy let out a dreamy sigh at the thought. âAnd I'll be relaxing at home by myself thinking about literally anything else while all you lovely bridesmaids, who I'm sure are vastly more interested in color schemes and table decor, discuss all of that,â he replied.Â
At the mention of bridesmaids, Matt's mind immediately jumped to you. He hadn't seen you since the night he'd offered to walk you back to his place and let you sleep over after you'd had a little too much to drink at Josieâs. The same night you'd randomly kissed him and told him you'd had feelings for himâsomething that had come as a complete shock to Matt.Â
You had actively avoided him ever since then. Ignoring his phone calls and texts. Never returning a single voice-mail he'd left asking to talk to you about what had happened that night. You'd stopped meeting up with everyone at Josieâs, only spending time with Karen and Marci over the past couple of months. Foggy even only ever saw you whenever you'd stopped by to see Marci at their apartment when helping with the wedding planning.Â
Matt expected you to be embarrassed after the incident, especially because he could feel the way your body had reacted before you'd sprinted out of his apartment and back into the rain outside. He'd felt bad, wondering if he'd really done something wrong that night to accidentally lead you on. He hadnât meant to, heâd just wanted to make sure you were alright. Youâd seemed off all night to him, but you had no idea about his heightened senses, so it wasnât as if he could ask you why your body was all over the place that night. It had been confusing, and the amount of beers youâd drank certainly hadnât helped him get a read on you, either.
He thought heâd been doing the right thing that night. The fling with that woman wasnât worth risking you walking home in the rain drunkâwhich heâd overheard you talking to yourself about doing. He hadnât wanted to risk something happening to you, because Matt damn well knew what could happen to drunk women walking home alone at night in Hellâs Kitchen. Heâd certainly rescued a few himself. But somehow you mustâve misread the entire situation and thought heâd been after more than that. Which was absurd because youâd always just been a great friend to him since heâd met you. A really close friend who heâd been sorely missing lately.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Matt said your name aloud, catching the attention of both Karen and Foggy. âIs sheâŠgoing to be there this weekend, too?â he asked, trying to sound casual.
âYeah, sheâs one of the bridesmaids,â Karen answered. âSo of course sheâll be there on Saturday.â
âIâm guessing sheâs still not talking to you then, huh buddy?â Foggy asked him.
Matt sighed, shaking his head. Heâd hated the silence from you and he had no idea how to fix things.
âNo,â he replied. âSheâs still very much ignoring me.â
âI donât exactly blame her,â Karen cut in. âThe whole situation sounded incredibly embarrassing and awkward when you told us why she was avoiding you. Especially considering how quiet she naturally is. For her to just kiss you and then to be rejected by you right after?âÂ
âOuch,â Foggy muttered. âYeah, sheâs probably never speaking to you again, man. Sorry.â
Matt ran a hand across his mouth, his shoulders sagging in defeat. The thought of never spending time with you ever again physically hurt. Heâd never again hear another one of your ridiculous jokes or have another surprise drop-in lunch visit at the office from you. You always somehow remembered his favorite sandwich from his favorite sandwich shop, too. Heâd always thought it was sweet that youâd made a mental note of his particular order, considering you had no idea how delicate his palate was with his heightened senses. Though he supposed now knowing that youâd had feelings for him all along had that attention to detail making more sense.
Standing in the office, an uncomfortable feeling twisted his stomach into knots, his heart squirming in his chest as the realization that you might really be gone from his life fully hit him. He didnât like it one bit.
âYou okay, Matt?â Foggy asked him. âYou sort of look like youâre going to be sick.â
Slowly, Matt shook his head. âI just wish I could fix things,â he confessed. âI wish sheâd just talk to me again. I don't like this weirdness between us.â
He heard the way the air shifted in the room again. As if both Karen and Foggy had looked at each other. Mattâs eyes narrowed curiously behind his glasses, his head tilting to the side. Both of their heart rates had slightly elevated at almost the exact same moment when theyâd done that.Â
Why?
âSo uh, you really miss her, huh?â Foggy asked.
âOf course,â Matt answered easily. âSheâs one of my best friends.â
âYeah?â Karen questioned.
Mattâs head canted curiously to the side at the odd tone in her voice. What were they getting at?
âYeah,â Matt reiterated. âSheâs been an important person in my life ever since the pair of you introduced us a while back. We always got along so well, and she always had such witty things to say. I miss talking to her. Josieâs just doesnât feel the same without her anymore.â He ran a hand through his hair in growing aggravation. âI hate that I canât just call her and hear her voice whenever I want anymore. And that she never randomly stops into the office just to say âhi.â. Itâit hurts that sheâs just gone now.â
The air shifted again as Karen and Foggy clearly exchanged a look with each other. Frustration began to fill Matt at whatever it was they werenât saying.
âWhat?â Matt snapped. âYou both keep looking at each other, I can feel it. Whatâs that about?â
Foggy cleared his throat, his attention returning to Matt. âItâs justâŠare you sure you just miss your friend?â he asked carefully.Â
Matt pulled a face at the ridiculous question. âWhat? Of course I do,â he shot back.
âNo,â Karen said, shaking her head. âHe means, are you sure you miss her because sheâs just a friend to you?â
âYes, thatâs what Iâve been trying toââ
Matt abruptly stopped short, his mouth hanging open for a second as Karenâs words suddenly registered in his mind. Lips pressing together seconds later, Mattâs hands landed on his hips as he shifted his weight on his feet.
âWhatâre you trying to say?â Matt asked the pair. âThat you think I like her? As more than a friend?â
âWell, buddy,â Foggy began carefully, âyouâve been acting pretty moody lately. Ever since she stopped talking to you. And you havenât been as interested in the ladies, either. Weâve both noticed you turning them down. I donât think youâve brought a single person back to your place since that night.â
Matt scoffed, shaking his head. âSo? I just havenât been interested in that exactly,â he replied stiffly. âThat doesnât have anything to do with her.â
âYou perk up at her name every time sheâs mentioned,â Karen added. âAnd for the past couple of months you always find some way to randomly ask how sheâs doing or what sheâs been up to.â
âAnd when we told you sheâd gotten onto that dating app,â Foggy chimed in, âyou were in a horrible mood the whole day afterwards. I donât think Iâve ever seen you so grumpy for no reason to quite that extent before. I mean,â he continued with a chuckle, âthat was like a Matt Murdock record level of moody. And there was no reason for it that day except for, well, that .â
Matt licked his lips, his fingers digging into his hips through his dress clothes. Heâd just been worried about the jerks you might meet on that site, that was all. And heâd been jealous that you were still talking to Foggy, Karen, and Marci but not him. That had been all it was.
Right?
Karen leaned up against the side of the desk, her arms crossing over her chest as she focused on Matt. He bristled under the attention, feeling like he was suddenly on the stand and she was about to interrogate him.
âLet me ask you something,â she began, âand I want you to be honest and really think. Howâd you feel when she kissed you that night?â
Matt frowned in her direction. âI told you, itâd been a shock,â he answered. âI hadnât anticipated her to do that. Then I was worried Iâd given her the wrong impression and I felt horrible that Iâd upset her.â
Karen was roughly shaking her head at him. âNo, how did it make you feel Matt?â she asked again.
âI mean Iââ he stopped short again, his mouth closing almost immediately.
In all honesty, with everything that had happened that night, he hadnât really thought about that. Heâd been afraid of you thinking he was trying to take advantage of you when you were drunk, something heâd never do. And then heâd been upset and worried about you running out of his place crying and trying to make it home that night. He couldnât even follow after you because it wouldnât make sense that a blind man could navigate his way down the stairwell after you like he knew heâd be able to. And he was certain if heâd called your name down in the lobbyâbecause he shouldn't have been able to know you by the sound of your heartbeat and scent of your perfumeâyouâd only run out of the building and ignore him. Chasing after you hadn't been an option.
But he had wanted to. Something he hadnât even thought about after the fact because heâd been so upset at you ignoring his calls and messages. All he'd been focused on was how much it hurt that he'd lost such a great friend. He hadn't really stopped to think about how he had wanted to follow you or how that surprise kiss had made him feel.Â
Had he enjoyed it? It had been timid and hesitant, only a brief kiss, but it hadn't been horrible. He'd justâŠnever thought about you like that before. Because you weren't the kind of woman who blatantly threw yourself at him, the type he'd bring back to his apartment for a fuck and then be content to never see again.Â
You definitely deserved more than that.Â
You were the type someone brought home to meet their parents, the type a guy planned dates for, wanted to spend holidays with. You were the long term, committed relationship type of woman. The type Matt avoided because the thought of something serious scared him, especially with how he spent most of his evenings.Â
But he missed you. He missed the scent of your perfume you always wore, the smell sometimes even lingering on his clothes when he'd return home from Josieâs. He missed the way you'd try to fill awkward silences whenever you were with him, always saying whatever random thing was on your mind. He missed the way your heart usually jumped whenever you first spotted himâbecause he'd always known you were attracted to him but he'd never thought more of it than that. He missed the sound of your voice after a difficult day at work, on days like today.Â
âWell?â Karen prompted, breaking through his thoughts.Â
âI uh,â he began, pausing to clear his throat, âI guess I never really thought about her like that before. I've always avoided anything possibly serious, and I've always tried to keep her at a distance because she didn't know about Daredevil. So I never really gave it much thought. Especially since she'd always just been there before. But now that she's notâŠâ Matt trailed off, aware of the strange and unfamiliar feeling growing in his chest. âI guess I miss her more than I think I even realized,â he finished softly.Â
âSo wait, let me get this straight,â Foggy began, excitedly waving his hands in front of himself. âYou're just now realizing that maybe you really do like her? Like for real? As more than just a good friend?â
A small smile slid across Matt's lips as he thought of the sound of your laughter and how he wished he could hear it tonight after the shit day heâd had. His hands dropped from his hips, that stupid smile growing a little at the thought of you. âI suppose I am,â he admitted.Â
Foggy pushed off the desk and crossed the few steps over towards Matt. Both of his hands flew forward, grabbing Matt's shoulders in a tight grip and lightly shaking him. Back by the desk, Karen tried to hide her laugh behind a hand.
âThen dammit, Murdock,â Foggy ordered, âGo tell her that!â
The smile grew wider on Matt's face, an idea forming in his mind already. If you weren't going to answer your phone, he'd find a way to make sure you couldnât ignore him.Â
Straightening up your kitchen now that you'd finished with dinner, you paused what you were doing when you heard your phone alert you to a notification. Turning around, you picked it up from where it had been sitting on the counter, curious to what the notification was about.Â
Unlocking your phone, you noticed you'd received another message on the dating app you'd downloaded weeks ago. Leaning your back against the nearby counter, a smile drew itself across your lips. It was the first message you'd gotten this week and the sight immediately lifted your mood. The prospect of someone possibly being interested in you had your stomach excitedly jumping up into your chest.
You opened the message, beginning to excitedly read it over. Though the more you read, the faster your smile shifted into a frown. It was yet another sleazy sounding guy clearly trying to talk himself up in a way that sounded both fabricated and disrespectful. You cringed at the things heâd said about your photosâthings he clearly thought were meant to be compliments but were vastly inappropriate and made you feel uncomfortable instead of flattered. Reaching the end of the brief message, you were shaking your head and closing out of the app before setting your phone back onto the counter with a roll of your eyes. It wasn't even worth your time responding back to the guy after a few of the things you'd read because he absolutely wasn't a match and you had no interest in ever meeting him.
With a sigh you made your way towards your fridge, your mind now focused on that unopened bottle of wine in there. It looked like you'd be having another night in with yourself tonight. But just as you'd opened the door to your fridge, your hand about to reach in and grab the bottle of red wine, there was a knock at your apartment door.Â
You paused, half-bent in front of your fridge as your eyebrows drew together in confusion at the interruption. Assuming it mightâve been Karen or Marci stopping by to go over something for wedding dress shopping which was planned for Saturday, you gradually stood back up and closed the fridge door. You figured that bottle of wine could wait a few more minutes.
Making your way out of your kitchen, you cut through your living room and over towards your door. Unlocking it, you pulled the door wide open without even glancing through the peephole first. Expecting to see either blonde woman standing there, you were stunned to instead find Matt standing in your hallway with a small smile on his lips.Â
Your heart lurched its way into your throat at the sight of him, your lips parting in surprise. Hand tightening around the handle of your door in a death grip, you fought your initial urge to just slam it in his face. What the hell was he doing here? Matt was the absolute last person you wanted to see standing at your door after your last interaction with him. It had been a few weeks since that nightmare of a night where you'd drunkenly kissed him and you still became insanely embarrassed at the memory of it. You certainly had no interest in talking to him about it further. You'd already apologized for just kissing him like you'd done, now all you wanted to do was never speak to him again. You figured he had to have gotten the hint already with how youâd been ignoring him.
So why was he suddenly at your apartment?
He said your name, that smile still on his mouth as he held up his right hand. Your face twisted into a look of confusion at the sight of a bouquet of beautiful flowers you hadnât initially noticed heâd been holding.Â
âCan I take you to dinner this Sunday night?â he asked.
Teeth gritting down hard together, your eyes narrowed back at him as anger quickly ignited within your gut. You immediately remembered drunkenly confessing to him that you couldnât remember the last time a guy had brought you flowers or asked you on a date. Now here he was doing both after heâd just very obviously and clearly rejected you. Did he think this was some way to break the ice between you both after what had happened? Some sort of way to turn everything into a joke?
âDo you think that's funny?â you asked sharply. âMaking fun of me like this? As if I donât feel like an absolute dumbass already, now you come here rubbing it in my face? You donât like me like that, I got the message loud and clear already, Matthew. I donât remotely find this funny.â
Matt's expression quickly morphed into one of shock and surprise at your reaction. He shook his head quickly, a crease forming between his dark brows.
âNo, thatâsâthatâs not what Iâm doing at all!â he exclaimed earnestly. âI guess I shouldnât have led with that. Can I just come in and talk to you? Explain everything? Please?â
You were about to tell him no, wanting to hide your hurt, disappointment, and embarrassment behind a wall of anger instead of crying over Matt yet again, especially in front of him once more, but the solemn and desperate look on his face gave you pause. Matt and you had your jokes, but even this wouldâve been a bit ridiculous for him to have planned out as a way to smooth things over between the pair of you after what had happened. Heâd never seemed callous like that in the past. But the only other thing that would make sense was him actually coming here to ask you on a real date. Which also seemed equally absurd since almost seven weeks ago heâd already told you that you were just a friend.
âI swear if you let me explain, this will seem far less confusing,â he assured you. âJustâjust give me five minutes?â
With an irritated sigh, you stepped away from the door. âFine,â you relented. âFive minutes, Matt.â
An almost nervous smile spread across his lips as he made his way through the doorway and into your apartment. You closed the door behind him, your body a confusing mix of emotions that you were struggling to make sense of right now. You were upset about seeing him again after that embarrassing moment, your anger quickly giving way to discomfort. It didn't help that the tiniest spark of hope had reappeared in your chest at the prospect of him truly being here to ask you out on a date, but you immediately reminded yourself of what happened the last time youâd stupidly thought there was a chance Matt had feelings for you. You didnât want to wind up misreading things with him a second time.
Turning back towards him, you were met with the bouquet of flowers in his extended hand. It was a stunning mixture of dahlias and greenery that couldn't have been cheap now that you were really looking at it.Â
âDahlias are your favorite, if Iâm not mistaken,â he said softly. âI remembered you mentioning that before at Josieâs when Marci had been talking about flowers for the wedding.â
Eyes darting up from the bouquet in his hands, they landed on his face. He still looked nervous and you werenât entirely sure what to make of that. Matthew Murdock never outwardly got nervous. You also werenât sure what to make of him remembering your favorite flower months after youâd brought it up around him just once.Â
Not knowing how to really respond, the confusing mix of emotions in your body only growing, you hesitantly reached a hand out and accepted the flowers. âThank you,â you murmured.Â
In an attempt to keep your hands busy, and because you werenât remotely interested in being the one to lead the conversation, you made your way back into your kitchen. You were aware of Matt following after you as you searched for the lone vase in one of your kitchen cabinets. Eventually you found it and began to fill it with water, impatient for Matt to say something as you kept your back to him.Â
âAbout that night,â Matt began cautiously, âwhen Iâd invited you to stay over and you kissed me?â
Turning off the kitchen faucet, your eyelids slowly lowered. Your body tensed, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next. Keeping your back to him, you knew you couldnât bear to look at him right now with whatever he was about to say. The jumbled, drunken memory of that evening came flooding back to you and you were immediately hit with a wave of embarrassment, tears stinging at your eyes behind closed lids. You remained silent though, waiting for him to continue.
âI hadnât anticipated that, if Iâm being honest,â he finally continued, still speaking in a measured tone. âMy intention had been to make sure you made it somewhere safe that evening because I knew youâd drank a bit more than usual. I couldnât stand the thought of you walking home alone drunk at night in the rain. So Iâm sorry if I was giving off signals to you that were other than that at the time because they werenât intentional.â He paused, clearing his throat lightly. âAnd itâit wasnât exactly until this afternoon that I realized maybe some of them were subconscious because I hadnât quite realized what I actually felt until today.â
Your hands tightened around both the vase and the bouquet of flowers as you held your breath. That flicker of hope had grown just marginally in your chest without your permission, and now it was teetering on the edge of growing larger or diminishing itself entirely. You felt like you couldnât take another breath as you waited for him to clarify what he meant.
âItâs been weeks since weâve talked,â Matt said, pain in his voice. âWeeks since youâve come to Josieâs or stopped by the office. Or answered one of my phone calls. And everyday has just felt off because of it. Because I miss you. And I thought for the longest time it was just because I was missing one of my best friends, but then Karen and Foggy apparently caught onto something that I hadnât even noticed in myself.â
With shaking hands, you opened your eyes and slipped the bouquet of flowers into the filled vase. Nervously you turned around, reaching your hand out to set them onto the counter next to you before your gaze finally landed back on Matt. He was standing at the other end of your small kitchen now, and it was almost as if he knew your eyes were on him as a gentle smile began pulling up the corners of his lips.
âIf weâre being honest,â Matt confessed, âIâve always tried to avoid relationships. I havenât had the best of luck with them, and well, there are things someone actually dating me would need to be made aware ofâsomething I generally donât open up about. But I think Iâd be ready to discuss that with you after dinner Sunday night if youâd let me take you out.âÂ
He paused, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as he gripped his cane tighter between both of his hands. Briefly you wondered what things he meant, but he was speaking again before youâd had long to contemplate that comment.
âThe truth is, I didnât truly realize what you meant to me until you were no longer a constant in my life,â Matt admitted. âAnd I canât stand not having you around. Not just because youâre my friend, but because I have feelings for you, too. Feelings that are more than friendly that Iâd like to explore further if youâd still be willing to as well.âÂ
Heart skipping a beat entirely in your chest, you exhaled a quivering breath at the admission. Matt liked you. You . Heâd really come here to bring you flowers and to ask you on a date, not to mock you or make light of your currently sad and lacking situation of a love life. You heard him let out a nervous laugh as your mind continued to race at everything he was saying.
âI uh, really wish youâd say absolutely anything right now,â he continued, âbecause your silence is scaring the hell out of me. I canât tell if youâre still mad or just trying to process everything.â
Swallowing hard, you tried to find the words to express how you were feeling. You could barely understand your own mind right now after heâd dropped all that on you. You'd gone so long never believing he'd be interested in you like that, and then after what had happened weeks ago when he'd blatantly rejected you, you really figured you'd never be anything more to him. But now here he was telling you the opposite and you could hardly believe it.
âIâm still sort of processing,â you replied, voice just above a whisper. âI wasnât exactly expecting to hear you ever say any of that. Certainly hadnât been expecting to hear any of this tonight.â
A sheepish smile tugged at his lips just before he hung his head, nodding lightly. âYeah, it sort of surprised me earlier, too,â he told you. âIâm shocked I wasnât quite as aware of my own feelings as Karen and Foggy seemed to be, but uhâŠthat probably has a little something to do with some other things going on in my life.â
Chewing your lip nervously, you continued to take in the sight of him standing across from you in your kitchen. He was still dressed in his dress clothes from work, clearly having finished late and having come straight here to see you afterwards. The nerves in your stomach gradually intensified as you took in the smile on his handsome face that you could somewhat make out despite the way heâd ducked his head. Seconds later his covered gaze rose up, falling back on you. You only gnawed on your bottom lip faster, something electric feeling like it was sparking between you both in the small space all the sudden. A feeling that hadnât been there seconds ago.
âSo I suppose now Iâm curious to know if youâd let me take you to dinner Sunday night, since I know youâve got plans for Saturday?â Matt asked hopefully. âWould thatâŠbe something youâd like?â
âYes,â you whispered, nodding immediately.
Matt took a few steps forward, the smile that had been lighting up his face growing warmer. His hands reached up, removing the glasses from his face before he slipped them into the inside pocket of his suit coat as he continued to make his way towards you. You leaned further back into the counter behind you, your hands landing on either side of the countertop as you tried to steady yourself. You werenât entirely sure what he was doing, but there was a glint in his eye that had your breath coming in sharper than usual.
âAnd in that case,â Matt continued, his voice dropping a few octaves to something sultry and soft, the sound increasing your pulse as he continued to close the gap between you both, âwould it be alright if we had a redo of our first kiss? This time with both of us sober and actually anticipating it?â
Breath still coming in shallow, it was difficult for your brain to send the signal to your mouth to actually formulate a sentence. Youâd managed a quiet noise in response as he came to a stop just in front of you, his body mere inches from yours as he set his cane to the side. You could practically feel something sparking between the pair of you as he just stood there, his eyes focused along your chin. His head tilted to the side as if in silent question when you hadnât given him a verbal confirmation.
âIâyes,â you finally answered.
He leaned in, moving so painfully slow as he came to rest his forehead against yours. His hand was suddenly on your neck, delicately gliding his fingertips upwards until the palm of his hand cupped your cheek, cradling it in his warm hand. His thumb rested just beneath your jaw, somehow knowingly tilting your mouth up further towards his at just the right angle. You felt lightheaded beneath his touch and the close proximity, your body involuntarily sinking forward into his when the tip of his nose just barely brushed against yours.
Matt shifted just the slightest bit before you felt his lips finally land on yours. Your eyelids immediately fluttered shut, a faint sigh sneaking out of your throat at how soft his lips wereâsofter than you recalled them. With the way he carefully began to move them against yours, you felt your knees going weak. Hands releasing the grip you had on the countertop, they darted forward and grabbed fistfuls of his dress shirt, just beneath his suit coat.Â
As you held onto him like a lifeline, his mouth pressed more firmly against yours. Fingers curling into his dress shirt, you pulled him roughly into your body. He stumbled forward into you, a rumbling growl coming from his chest in response. The delicious weight of him against the front of you only pressed you farther into the counter behind you as his other hand landed on your hip, gripping it tight.
It wasn't until a few minutes later that Matt gently broke away, his own breath heavy as he rested his forehead back to yours. Your tongue darted out, licking your damp lips as you tried to catch your breath. You could still taste him on you, the realization causing you to actively have to stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him again.Â
âWell there'sâthere's certainly something there,â Matt said with a breathy laugh. âBut uh, maybe we should leave things there until after Sunday night?â
You nodded, though it was hard to fully agree when his hips were still pressing you back into your kitchen counter and his mouth was mere inches from yours. Especially knowing how damn good of a kisser he was now, you wondered what else he did well.
âRight,â you breathed out.
He shifted against you, burying his face against the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't fight the smile on your face at how he clearly didn't want to pull away from you, instead getting closer to you. You'd never seen him this affectionate with anyone else before.
âI missed you,â he murmured against your neck.Â
Tentatively your hands released their grip on his shirt, your own arms snaking their way around his waist and drawing him closer. You came to rest your forehead against his shoulder, eyes closing as you relaxed into him.Â
âI missed you, too,â you admitted. âAnd I'm sorry for getting drunk and kissing you like an idiot and then ignoring you for weeks.â
âWell, I admit it wasn't great being ignored by you,â he said, his lips tickling you as he spoke. âBut at the same time, if you hadn't done either of those, I might never have realized how I felt about the woman who'd always been right in front of me the whole time.â
Your smile grew, your arms holding him a bit tighter. âI suppose that makes me feel a little less embarrassed, then.â
Matt nuzzled his face further into your neck, the bit of stubble on his cheeks pleasantly tickling you. You couldn't fight the giggle that slipped out of you in response. Seconds later you swore you felt his mouth pulling into a smile against your skin.Â
âSo Sunday night,â Matt began slowly, âif I show up with flowers for you again, you're not going to yell at me, are you?â
You couldnât resist the laugh that fell out of you. Burying your face further against his shoulder in slight embarrassment, you replied, âNo, I'm definitely not going to yell at you for bringing me flowers again.â
âGood,â he said, amusement in his tone. âBecause that was admittedly a terrifying experience.â
The pair of you fell into a fit of laughter in your kitchen, arms still wrapped around each other as you did. As the pleasant sound filled your apartment, the pair of you holding onto each other tightly like neither wanted to be the first to let the other go, you couldn't help but think about what a turn everything had taken all because you'd drunkenly misread a situation and kissed your friend.
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đđčđ¶đœ 'đ» đđčđ¶đ±đČ | đ”đ»11 â
âȘ summary: pro tip: if you're going to play slip 'n slide hockey, make sure not to play it with professional hockey players
âȘ warnings: fractured shoulder, hospitals
âȘ word count: 0.6k
âȘ file type: blurb - reupload
âȘ sunny's notes: it has been so long since i posted writing on here so i'm super excited to be back doing it. i remember exactly what sparked the idea for this fic and i couldn't be happier with how it turned out! um let me know if you like the new-ish formatting (the tinier font) or if you would prefer it to be bigger for the writing. also, i am working on that quinn fic and let me know if there are any of your favorites of mine you want me to reupload, they are all on my masterlist if you want to browse.
© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
tz11 masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation
This wasnât how this was supposed to happen, her sitting in a hospital room with her arm sporting a sling. Sure, maybe the idea was a little stupid, and playing with professional hockey players also didnât help. But, what was she supposed to do when she was scrolling on Instagram and saw a video with âslip-and-slide hockeyâ? Not tell her brothers and their friends about it? Not a chance.Â
After seeing the video, she immediately brought it up to her brothers who agreed and started calling some of their friends to come to the lake house. She had called Trevor, much to Jackâs annoyance at the reminder of their relationship and Quinnâs distaste for him, and he said he would be there as soon as he could. When all the boys arrived, it was officially âmission slip-and-slide hockeyâ time.
In hindsight, maybe she shouldâve worn pads or just not played at all knowing how rough her brothers get with not only her but with their friends as well. Jack was being Jack, of course. He had gone to go around Trevor when he slipped and knocked into his sister, who then fell and weirdly landed on her shoulder. She didnât scream, growing up with three rowdy brothers gave her more pride than she probably wouldâve liked sometimes.Â
She just laid there, staring at the sky with her right arm across her chest and her left one lying by her side. It took everyone a little bit to realize, and it was only when they saw Quinn kneeling next to her that they did.Â
Quinn looked down at her, placing a hand on her shoulder, âYou okay?â
She nodded, looking a little dazed as her eyes glassed over in pain, âMhm.â
âY/n/n come on, move your arm for me.â
She lifted her left arm and then dropped it, âSee, Iâm fine.â
He gave her a look, âYour other arm.â
And she was prepared to do it, except when she tried, she couldnât and teared up more. Quinn sighed before waving Trevor over, âCome on, letâs go to the hospital.â
âIâm fine.â
Trevorâs head came into her sight, his hair flopping and framing his face, âLetâs go, princess.â
She smiled up at him, âYou're pretty.â
He laughed before helping her stand up, having her lean on him for support. Jack came up and spewed apologies from his mouth as they walked to the car, âItâs okay, Jack. Iâm fine.â
He shook his head and sat on one side while Trevor sat on the other and Luke got into the passenger seat as Quinn drove them to the hospital. And thatâs how they ended up here, y/n sitting on a hospital bed with her arm in a sling due to her fractured shoulder. Trevor sat on the bed next to her while Quinn called their mom and Luke and Jack sat on the chairs in front of them.Â
She leaned her head against her boyfriendâs shoulder, âUgh how am I supposed to work now?â
âYou donât have to work, y/n/n. Youâre boyfriends rich.â
Y/n sent her younger brother a glare before closing her eyes again, âDo you think they could give me drugs for my head?â
Jack shook his head at her choice of words before standing up, âIâll go find a doctor. Maybe you got a concussion too, though they didnât say anything.â
He kissed her head before leaving to find a doctor, or a nurse at the very least. Luke followed after him, protesting being stuck in a room with the two of them. Trevor pushed a piece of her hair out of her face before kissing her temple, âAre you sure youâre feeling okay? Besides the headache now?â
She nodded a little, wrapping her left arm around his right one, âYeah.â
He gave her a small smile, âYou know Luke wasnât totally wrong. You donât have to work.â
She went to hit him but he laughed and held up a hand, âI know, I know. You love your job, I wouldnât take that away from you, lovely.â
âGood.â
The two sat in silence for a little while and then she spoke once more, âCuddles when we get back?â
âOf course, my baby fractured her shoulder. Got to give her all the princess treatment in the world.â
âDork.â
© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
#: ÍÌâ sunnyâs writing đ !#nhl#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl hockey#hockey#hockey imagine#hockey fic#trevor zegras#tz11#trevor zegras imagine#trevor zegras fic#trevor zegras x reader#jack hughes#jh86#luke hughes#lh43#quinn hughes#qh43#jack hughes x sister!reader#luke hughes x sister!reader#quinn hughes x sister!reader#hughes!sister#hughes brothers#hughes!reader
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Can I request a shy reader and Spencer's fic. When the reader works at a flower shop, Spencer comes in there looking for flowers. And the reader goes on a little rant about what he should buy and what each flower means.
Hii lovely, ty for the request! Hope this is okayđwarnings: use of y/n, fluff, a few swear words, (0.9k)
Spencer needs to buy some flowers for Emily. It's her birthday and he's always brought her flower before, so even if he's already running late to her birthday dinner, he can't not go buy her some flowers.
He goes into the first flower shop, he spots on the way to Emily's apartment and that's where he finds you.
It's almost the closing time, so you are just sitting behind the counter, reading some book. Spencer immediately thinks he's in love.
He swears, you are the prettiest girl, he's ever seen and the fact, that you are too absorbed in your book to even notice him, makes you even more attractive to Spencer.
You finally notice him as he's a few steps away from the counter. You quickly slam the book shut and try not to look too caught off guard.
You weren't expecting anybody to come to the shop anymore and you definitely weren't expecting it to be a very handsome guy.
His messy, curly hair, expensive-looking black suit and the small stubble have you buckling at your knees. You are sure, that if you weren't sitting on the chair, you would be on the ground.
"H-hi," you somewhat compose yourself, "w-what can I help you with?"
He shoots you a smile and you're pretty sure that your cheeks go very red," Hi, I was wondering if I could get some flowers?"
"D-do you have any specific in mind?" you ask, barely holding an eye contact with him. You are shy and he isn't helping your situation at all.
"Ye-...No, I don't. Can you recommend me some?" Spencer literally knows the meaning of every flower you have in this shop, but something about you makes him shut his mouth, so he can stay here longer.
"I can, yes," you smile sheepishly at him, "who are they supposed to be for?"
"My friend, it's her birthday today," you would be lying, if you said that your heart didn't skip a beat at hearing that it's for his friend and not a girlfriend. You thought, that he was getting flowers for his girlfriend.
"W-well, I'd suggest, that you should definitely get some yellow flowers for her. Yellow color represents friendship, would that be okay?" you hesitantly ask. Spencer just nods encouragingly.
"Okay, so we could do some mixed bouquet. Yellow roses are definitely a yes, you can't go wrong with that, they are beautiful and smell amazing. We should also add sunflowers, they represent loyalty and adoration of the friendship. Oh and mums are grest, too. They can really make the bouquet come alive, they are like the spirit of optimism. We could also-," you ramble about each flower, that you put in the bouquet for him.
Spencer listens to your every word with a happy smile, you remind him of himself with your rambling and to be honest, he finds it adorable.
You are done too quickly tho and Spencer finds himself wanting to hear you speak again.
But his phone rings and he doesn't even need to pick up to know, that the team is wondering, where he is.
"Here, i-is this okay?" you hand the insanely pretty bouquet to him. Spencer's grin basically answers your question.
"Thank you, thank you. It couldn't be more perfect. You're a total lifesaver..." he looks at your name tag, "y/n. Thank you, y/n."
You are certain, that your cheeks couldn't be more red as they are right now. Spencer's compliment makes you blush like a fool.
"Oh. I'm..I'm glad, that you like it." You stutter out your response, looking at the ground. You carefully wrap the bouquet in the flower wrapping paper and tell him the price of it.
He pays it and before you can say no, he puts a bigger tip than it's normal into the tip jar.
Spencer then slowly leaves thanking you as he goes. And right before the door closes, it looks like Spencer wants to tell you something else, but in the last second he shakes his head and dissappears.
You wave him a shy goodbye, you are a little disappointed even if you don't really know why. Well okay, maybe you do know why. But you shouldn't have put your hopes up, thinking the handsome stranger felt the spark like you did. And that maybe, only maybe, he'd ask you out.
You sigh and sluggishly start to clean up the counter to finally close the shop and go home. The door bell rings again and your head immediately shoots up.
He runs up to the counter, a little out of breath, "shit, I'm sorry to bother you again. I don't usually do this, like ever, it's just....Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like for a-a coffee? You can say no of course, hell, I'd totally understand if you said no." Spencer's now the one to rumble.
"I-I'd love to," you, surprising even yourself, reply immediately. Cheeks, of course, burning red.
"It's okay- Wait, really?" Spencer was totally expecting you to reject him.
"Yes, really....." you want to say his name.
"Spencer, my name is Spencer," he quickly understands.
"Spencer, " you try out his name,"Â I'd love to Spencer, here." You bravely scramble your phone number on a piece of paper and give it to him.
Spencer takes it with a huge smile, "I'll call you, " he looks like he wants to stay longer, but looks at his watch and curses under his breath," I'm so late. I gotta go, but I'll call you, I promise."
"Bye, Spencer," you say sweetly and Spencer already knows he's fucked. Not even one date and he knows, he's down bad.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid
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