#follows me to this day & I always hold u in good graces despite the wrongs we did to each other and I still love you in some estranged way

[robinmage]

no kind of relationship will ever be as impactful as the slightly toxic slightly homoromantic hyperdependent bestfriendship you had with someone when you were like 12

[shiningwonderland]

Masato Hijirikawa (Repeat)

Translator: Boo (Twitter: masatoswife)

Proofreader: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

Editors: Mae (Twitter: itoshikimaegirl), Terry (Twitter: turtlemudge)

QA: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

August — A Summer Day's Fantasia

Summer vacation has begun and we’ve started writing songs for the graduation audition more seriously.

From today onward, we’ll be having meetings together.

Since Hijirikawa-sama and I both play the piano, I can think of a melody and a musical accompaniment while we play together.

Haruka Nanami: Either way, the weather is great…

There’s not a single cloud in the sky; it’s a clear blue color from horizon to horizon.

Hijirikawa-sama hasn’t arrived yet, so perhaps I could sing again after so long…

I start singing a medley of the songs I wrote back when I would sing and play my keyboard on the street.

I don’t have a lot of volume and my voice doesn’t have any characteristics worth mentioning, so singing like this isn’t very attractive at all.

But since I just want to enjoy myself right now, rather than singing for somebody to listen, I follow my heart and sing with all I have.

It’s an amazing feeling.

Masato Hijirikawa: That song…!

Haruka Nanami: Ah, Hijirikawa-sama. Good morning!

I stop playing, close the piano, and head towards Hijirikawa-sama.

Masato Hijirikawa: Ngh...!!!

A tight hug.

Abruptly, Hijirikawa-sama holds me close. The hands wrapped around me are trembling a little, but…

Despite that, his embrace is very strong and intense.

Haruka Nanami: Eh, u-uhm… W-what’s wrong? Are you feeling lightheaded or… something else? Is it heatstroke?

To hold me like this… If it weren’t that, Hijirikawa-sama couldn’t be doing such a thing…

Masato Hijirikawa: So it is you… It is definitely you. From that day…

Hijirikawa-sama whispers so softly, it’s as if he’s talking to himself.

Haruka Nanami: Eh…?

W-w-w-what???

Masato Hijirikawa: Ah… I apologize. It seems I’m feeling slightly dizzy. So… let’s stay like this for a little...

Masato Hijirikawa: I’ll pull away shortly, so… Just a little longer…

Ah, it’s like I thought. I-is he really okay though? I’m worried about his health...

Select the Phrase!

はい… Yes…. (+20 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Please stay like this until you’ve settled down.

Masato Hijirikawa: Thank you… Thank you so much.

Masato Hijirikawa: Fate… Something like that really does exist, huh… Meeting you like this...

Haruka Nanami: U-um…?

Seriously, what’s wrong? The atmosphere is different from usual.

Masato Hijirikawa: Really, I’m overjoyed you’re here with me.

A hoarse voice reaches my ears and I’m unsure of how to behave.

Haruka Nanami: T-that’s… I’m nothing special.

Masato Hijirikawa: No, you’re... You and your songs have always held me up. I’m so grateful...

I’m only holding up a dizzy Hijirikawa-sama, though...

Why is he thanking me so much? Is he feeling sick after all?

After a while, Hijirikawa-sama slowly withdraws his arms.

Masato Hijirikawa: … I’m doing better now.

Haruka Nanami: Ehm, are you sure? If you’re not feeling well, we can cancel practice for today—

Masato Hijirikawa: No, it’s nothing serious. For a moment, I... yeah, I think I had been intoxicated by music.

Haruka Nanami: By music?

Masato Hijirikawa: Music, yes. I was struck by the melody you spun. Your song... it resonates with me, and fills me with a warmth that comes from the depths of my chest.

Haruka Nanami: A-ah, I… I’m sorry if I upset you with my poor performance…

Masato Hijirikawa: The opposite is true… It moved me so much, it just happened… even to the point of feeling dizzy.

Masato Hijirikawa: Won’t you play for me again? Your music…

Amiable eyes gaze at me.

Haruka Nanami: O-of course!

I once again return to the piano and start singing along to my playing.

After, Hijirikawa-sama moves behind me and ad-libs his singing.

A nice, rich voice. It’s always beautiful, but today it is particularly graceful and warm…

Eh… what is this feeling? It’s just like earlier…

Hijirikawa-sama finishes singing, and I, too, finish playing the final bar.

He lets out a small sigh afterwards.

Masato Hijirikawa: As I thought, your performance allows me to sing. Sing what I feel, following my heart.

Masato Hijirikawa: Before meeting you, singing with these feelings was unthinkable...

Masato Hijirikawa: I must formally show my gratitude to the heavens, for the miracle of having met you like this.

Haruka Nanami: I-i-it’s… it’s really not that special…!!!

What’s going on? It seems Hijirikawa-sama is just acting weird today after all.

Masato Hijirikawa: Don’t be modest. We were brought together for a reason and became partners. I’m certain all of it is fate.

Fate...?

Then, suddenly…

Ringo Tsukimiya: Ah, there you are, Maa-kun~! You weren’t at the dormitory, so I started looking for you~

Tsukimiya-sensei walks in and a small girl appears from behind his silhouette.

???: Brother dearest~

Masato Hijirikawa: Mai…! Why are you here?

Hijirikawa-sama murmurs in a dumbfounded manner.

Mai: Mai... wanted to see her brother...

Masato Hijirikawa: … Have you told our father?

Hijirikawa-sama crouches down, meets Mai-chan’s gaze, and places his hand on her head.

Ah, there’s the face of big brother Hijirikawa-sama. Hehe, his sister is so cute, I suppose he can’t help it.

Mai-chan shakes her head from side to side.

After Hijirikawa-sama sighs softly in response, he grabs her shoulders, and…

Masato Hijirikawa: … You mischievous girl. It’s no good not telling father properly, is it?

... while keeping eye contact, he lectures her.

Ah… he really is a brother, huh…

I’m an only child, so siblings are something I’ve always wished for.

Mai: … I’m shorry... but, but! Mai really wanted to see her brother no matter what!

As Mai-chan says so, Hijirikawa-sama sighs and makes a face as if saying ‘I guess it can’t be helped.’

Ringo Tsukimiya: Ehehe~ It’s because you’re such a wonderful brother. Of course she’s gonna want to be with you.

Masato Hijirikawa: Be that as it may, if she gets spoiled too much…

Haruka Nanami: But… since she came all the way here, how about taking a break from practice for today so you can spend time together?

Masato Hijirikawa: I suppose it can’t hurt if you say so… Mai, after I report to our family, would you like to go somewhere today?

Mai: Yes! I love you, brother dearest!!!

Masato Hijirikawa: And… uhm, if you would like, you can come with us, too…

Haruka Nanami: Eh…?

Masato Hijirikawa: Today, I want to be with you… Spending time with you will be a great source of inspiration.

Masato Hijirikawa: In order to sing good songs, I want to experience all sorts of things together and exchange thoughts with you.

Select the Phrase!

お邪魔なんじゃ… Wouldn’t I interfere with you two? (+20 Love +0 Music)

Masato Hijirikawa: No such thing. Besides… we planned to practice all day long today. You should be free, right?

Haruka Nanami: I am, yes!

Masato Hijirikawa: Then, let’s go together. Is there anything you need to return to the dormitory for?

Haruka Nanami: Nothing in particular... Thank you for inviting me!

Ringo Tsukimiya: If you’re going to take a little girl out to play, I’d suggest Saotome Kingdom, but…

Ringo Tsukimiya: A man and a woman together in an amusement park will seem kind of like a date~

Haruka Nanami: ...!!! D… d-da… d-d-date…?

Masato Hijirikawa: I-It’s not just the two of us… Mai will be there, too…

Mai: Brother dearest, what is a date?

Masato Hijirikawa: Erm… I-it’s…

Ringo Tsukimiya: You see, Mai-chan, a date is when a man and woman who like each other—

Masato Hijirikawa: Tsukimiya-sensei! Don’t teach children such strange things!

Hijirikawa-sama scolds Tsukimiya-sensei with a red face.

Ringo Tsukimiya: I don’t think dates are that big a deal anymore these days, but… I guess it’s alright~

Ringo Tsukimiya: If you two are that innocent, I won’t have to worry that something could possibly occur~ Enjoy yourselves to the fullest!

Then, the three of us arrive at "Saotome Kingdom," the amusement park.

Saotome Kingdom is an amusement park within Saotome Academy grounds and appears to have been built from the principal’s personal funds, as a hobby.

Because of this, the park is known for accommodating the principal’s second house as well as having lots of out-of-the-ordinary attractions.

Haruka Nanami: Uhm, Hijirikawa-sama?

Mai: Yes!?

Haruka Nanami: Eh…?

Masato Hijirikawa: Ah, it is because Mai’s surname is Hijirikawa as well. She must’ve thought you were calling out to her.

Masato Hijirikawa: Mai… just now she called out to your brother. It wasn’t for Mai.

Mai: Hmmm…?

Masato Hijirikawa: Please excuse me… Since my sister will get confused, won’t you… uhm… call me by my given name instead?

Select the Phrase!

えと…真斗…くん. Uuuhm… Masato… ...kun. (+20 Love +0 Music)

Masato Hijirikawa: For some reason, it is a little embarrassing being called by my given name…

Hijirikawa-sama scratches his cheek in embarrassment.

Masato Hijirikawa: However, it’s… it’s not bad. I’ll ask you to call me that for the day.

Haruka Nanami: A-alright…

Haruka Nanami: Where would Mai-chan like to go?

Mai: Hmmm… Miss, what do you think?

Haruka Nanami: Uhm…

When it comes to attractions little girls can have fun at, I’d say...

Select the Phrase!

コーヒーカップ. The coffee cups. (+10 Love +5 Music)

The coffee cup we entered has real coffee beans inside it.

The beans are inside a smaller cup that has been embedded in the rotation part at the center of the cup.

‘Please guess what kind of coffee beans these are.’

...is written on it.

Hints have been stuck all around the cup we’re in, but since we’re spinning around, just following the letters with my eyes is enough to make me start feeling sick.

Masato Hijirikawa: Nanami, are you okay!? Don’t push yourself if you are feeling miserable. I will take care of this.

Despite saying that, Hijirikawa-sama is getting a little dizzy himself.

Haruka Nanami: Thank… you… U-uuugh. My eyes…

Ten minutes later, we finally manage to escape from the curse of the coffee cups.

Mai: Ah~ That was shooo fun!

Masato Hijirikawa: Was it…? I’m happy you think so.

The attractions in Saotome Kingdom are nothing but unusual and a little disastrous, but at least Mai-chan seems to be enjoying herself.

Mai: Mai wants a soft serve!

Masato Hijirikawa: It’s no good to eat between meals, but… all right. Since today is special.

Hijirikawa-sama hurries to a nearby food cart and buys two soft serves.

Masato Hijirikawa: Here you are, Mai… And then, this is yours.

Mai: Yayyy!

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you. Um, Hijiri—Masato-kun, you’re not going to eat one?

Masato Hijirikawa: No, I’m fine. I don’t like sweet things enough to finish an entire serving.

Haruka Nanami: Oh… I see…

So he doesn’t like sweet things too much… And yet, he bought these for us… I feel a little bad somehow.

Mai: Mhmm, this soft serve is yummy!

Masato Hijirikawa: Is it? I’m glad to hear.

Haruka Nanami: For real, it’s really delicious! It’s just as rich as the soft serve you eat at a dairy farm.

Masato Hijirikawa: … Is it that good?

Haruka Nanami: It is… Do you want to try a bite?

I hold out the soft serve to Hijirikawa-sama.

Masato Hijirikawa: Eh…? No, I mean, that’s…

Haruka Nanami: Originally you gave it to me, so please don’t be shy!

Masato Hijirikawa: Right… Then, just one bite… mhm…

Hijirikawa-sama is just a tad embarrassed as he modestly bites into the soft serve.

Haruka Nanami: How is it?

Masato Hijirikawa: … It certainly does taste good.

Mai: It does! It’s sho yummy!!

Masato Hijirikawa: Hey, please settle down more when you eat. Ladies don’t dirty their mouths like that.

As he says that, Hijirikawa-sama takes his handkerchief from his pocket and wipes off the cream around Mai’s mouth.

Mai: M-mmhm…

Then…

Jii: YOUNG MASTEEER~!!

… A cloud of sand rises from the ground as Jii-san rushes our way.

Jii: Young Lady! So you’re with the young master after all…

Jii: When Jii realized you were nowhere to be found, the blood in Jii’s veins froze!

Jii: … I’m really glad you’re safe. If anything had happened to you, I would have committed ritual suicide in apology to the maste—

Masato Hijirikawa: Jii, it would be all the more troublesome if you went that far. Although I am grateful for your devotion, no matter what happens, don’t resort to suicide.

Jii: Oh, Young Master, how kind you are… I’d expect nothing less of the young master raised by Jii!

Masato Hijirikawa: No need for flattery… But more importantly, you came for Mai, didn’t you?

Jii: Ah! That’s right. Well then, please come with me, Young Lady.

Mai: Brother dearest...

Mai-chan looks up to Hijirikawa-sama with a lonesome face.

Masato Hijirikawa: Mai… this will be goodbye for today. However, I’m certain we will see each other again soon…

Masato Hijirikawa: That reminds me… There will be a school festival in October. At that time, you can come together with Father.

Mai: I will! Mai is excited!

Masato Hijirikawa: Are you? You’re a good girl. … Jii, I’ll entrust Mai to you.

Jii: Ah! Understood. Please take care of yourself as well, Young Master!

Masato Hijirikawa: I will.

Then, Jii-san takes Mai-chan back home.

On our way back, Hijirikawa-sama and I walk side-by-side down the twilit road, heading for the dormitory.

Masato Hijirikawa: … I apologize for making you stay with me all day.

Haruka Nanami: Not at all…! I had fun… Uhm… your sister is really cute, isn’t she?

Masato Hijirikawa: … She is. My pride and joy… I am the eldest son, which is why I have an obligation to succeed the conglomerate. Because of that, there’s no way for me to escape from home…

Masato Hijirikawa: However, I don’t want to let Mai feel like that. I want her to be free to do whatever she wants… That’s how I feel.

Hijirikawa-sama casts his eyes down with a lonesome face.

That’s… that’s right. It’s a big conglomerate… I’m sure he carries enormous responsibilities on his back.

Haruka Nanami: Hijirikawa-sama…

Masato Hijirikawa: Uhm… you’ve been calling me Hijirikawa-sama, but… like when we were with Mai, could you start calling me by my given name?

Haruka Nanami: Eh…?

Masato Hijirikawa: If you like, I could call you by your given name as well. It has been nearly half a year since we became partners.

Masato Hijirikawa: It’s time for us to close the distance between us a little. So, I want you to call me that…

Haruka Nanami: Ehm… If you say so, then... Um… Masato… kun.

Masato Hijirikawa: Then, is it fine for me to call you by a nickname? If possible, please tell me what nickname you’re used to being called.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, it’s… Haru. I’d be… happy, if you called me that…

Masato Hijirikawa: Then, that’ll be it.

After that, we walk in silence for a while.

Haruka Nanami: …

Suddenly, our hands brush against each other.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, I’m sorry!

I hurriedly withdraw my hand.

Masato Hijirikawa: Don’t worry… There’s no need to apologize.

Haruka Nanami: Ah… Alright.

Illuminated by the evening sun, our lengthening shadows occasionally overlap.

Somehow, I can feel my heart beat just from walking side by side like this.

Haruka Nanami: Ah!

Masato Hijirikawa: Careful!!

Just when I realized I’ve tripped over nothing, Hijirikawa-sama instantly grasps my arm.

Masato Hijirikawa: Good grief, you can be so clumsy sometimes… Here…

Hijirikawa-sama takes my hand and starts walking again.

Masato Hijirikawa: This should bring you some peace of mind.

Haruka Nanami: Thank you…

Then, we start walking hand in hand.

It feels a little embarrassing to hold hands, but the moment I squirm a little, Hijirikawa-sama firmly clasps my hand.

With that, he pulls me to himself a little, and our shoulders touch just slightly.

The warmth transmitted from our connected hands feels so pleasant, I’m catching myself thinking it would be nice if we just stayed like this and never arrived at the dormitory.

Then, I suddenly hear the timbre of a guitar, accompanied by an unrefined, though very delightful, singing voice.

Compared to the dainty performance of the guitar, the singing is just a little off and the voice a tad hoarse, but it’s really enjoyable despite it all…

So much that their happiness is reaching me, too.

Ehehe. Ah, an off note… ah! Another one. But it looks like they don’t care at all.

Their singing is brimming with confidence. It’s admirable.

Masato Hijirikawa: You’ve also sung on the street like that, haven’t you?

Haruka Nanami: I have. It wasn’t exactly good, but it was fun to sing outside!

Masato Hijirikawa: … Last winter. Something awfully unpleasant happened, so I stormed away from home.

Suddenly, Hijirikawa-sama’s expression turns cloudy.

Masato Hijirikawa: Others might say it was something trivial, but back then I was in despair, and even felt like it wouldn’t matter if I was here or not.

Masato Hijirikawa: Or rather, it was to the point where I felt I wouldn’t care if I simply died right there. It was a street musician who saved me from that feeling.

Masato Hijirikawa: Her performance was so wonderful, I wasn’t conscious of the fact I’d started singing along.

Masato Hijirikawa: The woman then praised my singing. She said I seemed like a professional. It would be a waste not to become a professional… right?

Saying that, Hijirikawa-sama turns his kind eyes on me.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, I feel the same way. If you don’t debut it will definitely be a waste!

Haruka Nanami: Your singing voice is so wonderful, it’d be a shame not to have everyone listen to it.

It seems like everyone feels the same way about it, after all. Hijirikawa-sama’s singing really is just that beautiful!

Masato Hijirikawa: You think so…? You saying that gives me strength.

Masato Hijirikawa: Anyhow, up until then, I did everything as I was told by my parents. There was not one thing I had achieved on my own.

Masato Hijirikawa: But my singing… I realized it was only mine. With that in mind, I couldn’t help trying it out.

Masato Hijirikawa: I had a strong desire for someone to hear my singing. That woman’s song... her few words… they saved me from the depths of despair.

Masato Hijirikawa: My parents are irrelevant to it. I wanted to find out what I can do with my existence, and how far I can take things as an individual.

Masato Hijirikawa: Then, I forced my way through my parents’ opposition and took the entrance examination for this school. I wanted to know the true meaning of why I am alive.

Masato Hijirikawa: Of course, since I have an obligation to sustain the conglomerate, I probably won’t be able to stay in the entertainment industry for a long time.

Masato Hijirikawa: I simply wanted to try living as myself for once in my life, without doing as I’m told.

Masato Hijirikawa: And with you, Haru, I feel like I’m able to truly live as myself.

Hijirikawa-sama places his other hand over our connected hands, and stares intently into my eyes.

Masato Hijirikawa: Won’t you stay by my side and support me all the way through? As long as your music is here, I will certainly be able to keep singing!

Haruka Nanami: I will! Please take care of me as well.

Hijirikawa-sama… He has such a past… I had no idea at all.

… Huh? But, how does he know I used to sing on the street?

Select the Phrase!

なんだろう... I wonder… (+10 Love +10 Music)

There’s something bothering me deep down, but I just can’t remember.

Back then… I liked singing, but I wasn’t very good at talking to people.

My bangs were long enough to hide half of my face… I hardly saw people’s faces. Or perhaps, I was just trying not to look anyone in the eye.

I wasn’t confident and felt scared to face anyone. Occasionally, there were people who would compliment my songs, but…

Despite already being bad with people, I could talk to strangers, but that alone was really the best I could manage…

As I’m trying to remember those days, I absentmindedly raise my face and see Hijirikawa-sama’s side profile, illuminated by the evening sun.

… Anyway, let’s do our best now.

Because I’m sure the two of us will be able to create the best music.

Mini Game

Ringo Tsukimiya: I wonder if today I should let you try performing at a higher difficulty than last time. It’s alright! I can teach you ex-act-ly how to do it~!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Ehehe~ Because even though it may not seem like it, I’m a pro. My skill is pretty good!

Ringo Tsukimiya: It might be the same song, but I’ll teach you that the impression will change depending on the way you play it. The more you keep in mind, the higher you can raise it to perfection!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Well then~! Music, start!

Perfect S Rank

Masato Hijirikawa: Never in my life will I forget the warmth of the first hands that I’ve held. I will sing the music born from those hands with all my heart, together with my feelings for you. Deeply, passionately...

Haruka Nanami: I felt happy as well. When… we walked together, holding hands… I’ll never ever forget.

Chapter End

[101maverick]

hey sooooo... you've got the whole Catholic thing wrong.

Before starting this isn't a critique or an attack or anything like that, it's just that I myself am Catholic and this is just me explaining to you how exactly my religion works. This is a mix of how Catholicism works and how Jason should act to be considered actually Catholic in light of the former matter. Also quick disclaimer: Catholic/Christian guilt has nothing to do with this because I quite literally Do Not Have Any so good day I guess (saying it because people on this platform seem to think that feeling guilt for sinning is somehow wrong and so dub it as "christian guilt" I guess but it's quite literally called Having A Conscience and also an integral part of forgiveness and divine mercy so don't come at me with that thnx)

"You guys seem to think there's only one way to be Catholic and interpret religious texts" actually Yeah, that's basically it

Being Catholic (Christian in general) is first and foremost about following Jesus Christ and His teachings, and also recognising that all humans fall short of the grace of God because we sin, so we should focus on following His Son because he lived a perfect life (so following Him helps us sin less and live in the light of the Father), and by recognising Jesus as the way the truth and the life and by believing with our hearts and confessing with our mouths that Jesus Christ is Lord we are saved despite our shortcomings.

Despite this unconditional forgiveness and mercy from the lord due to our belief, or perhaps because of it, we should focus on living like Jesus. Ad the thing about Jesus' life is that it is objectively perfect because his teachings and behaviours are objectively good.

From this stems the fact that there is only one way to be Catholic, as in following Jesus, because the existence of a God who is absolutely perfect and good and just implies an objective canon which morals are based on, and morals are what everyone's modus operandi is based on.

Moving onto the second part of that statement, the religious text we are talking about in this case is the bible, which is the True word of God. This is because it is God who wrote the bible via all of its writers. And the thing about God is that He, other than being absolutely perfect good and just, is also absolutely truthful. It is impossible for God to lie, because if He were to do that He then wouldn't be truthful always, which is one of His 'main' attributes, since He literally is truth. This means God's word (the bible) is completely truthful and transparent, meaning it it impossible for it to have different interpretations that hold true.

All of this that I have explained also takes out every possibility of the all blades being God's 'go ahead' to kill and that all his opinions are valid. Idk much ab the all blades but nevertheless killing is very much a sin, and if Jason were to connect to his Catholic faith he should feel remorse and guilt for his actions and work toward changing his ways.

Also I don't really recall Jason saying that killing is right. From the media I have consumed I have seen that Jason sees murder as the only way to clean up a place overrun by evil like Gotham. He sees it as a means to an end, but not really something moral. I do see how he sees it as "right" in certain instances as in it is the only way to truly get rid of evil. But you gotta bear in mind that his reasoning is comprised of the musings of a teenager come back from the dead who has no way of comping with what happened to him and sees no way to rid the world fro. the evil that killed him apart from straight up eliminating it in the face of the failure of the previous system he operated on. Not exactly the picture of mental health. If u know of media where Jason says that killing is moral and stuff please let me know I love exploring his character so much it's fuel for my brain

TLDR:

broke: Catholic Jason doesn't feel guilt about killing and operates on his own belief system

woke: Catholic Jason feels guilt for killing and works towards redeeming himself and changing his ways because murder is objectively wrong

You're all fucking wrong about Catholic Jason he wouldn't feel guilt about Jack shit, ESPECIALLY not killing. He would get the All-Blades and be convinced that this is God's go ahead and divine confirmation that he's right about everything and all of his opinions are valid and everyone who opposes his worldview is a moron blinded by idealism and naivete.

[miyagihawk]

it's not an ask, but i don't know if i can send it on your chat, so... i saw your post about a song and a character from cobra kai and automatically thought of sk8r boi (avril lavigne) and robby 😩😩😩 have a nice day and don't forget to drink water 💞

THANK U FOR THE REQUEST i love this song sm

sk8r boi | robby keene x reader

warnings: swearing, some catcalling

summary: he was a skater boy! she said see you later boy! he wasn’t good enough for her! (hehe)

“Come on Riley, Mom wants us home by 6 and we still have to get stuff from the store,” you crossed your arms, annoyed at your brother. He ignored you, dipping down, wheels first, into the concrete bowl.

You shifted on your feet, feeling uncomfortable standing at the skate park with your ballet attire still on. You’ve just come back from rehearsal, and you had to pick up Riley because Mom was working a late shift.

“Shit Riley, I didn’t know your sister was hot. Qué pasa ballerina?” one of his friends winked at you, making you roll your eyes in disgust.

“Hey, do a little twirl for us princess,” another boy whistled and you glared at the group.

Pigs. Boys are pigs.

“Riley, let’s go,” you said firmly, turning away and heading to your car, leaving him with no choice but to follow if he didn’t want to walk home.

Your brother’s friend group of skaters hollered and whooped as Riley caught up to you, and you had to focus on your breathing to calm your anger. You hate being made fun of, but you reminded yourself that they were just a bunch of stupid, hormonal, punks.

“Your friends are assholes,” you commented, and your brother only nodded in agreement.

“Hey,” a voice called from behind you, but you kept walking, assuming that it was just another guy trying to poke fun at you.

“Hey, wait,” the person said again, this time grabbing your arm to stop you.

You turned around quickly, pulling away from their grip. “What?” you snapped, meeting a pair of calm green eyes.

It was one of Riley’s friends, the one with long hair. You don’t remember him saying anything to you earlier; he seemed to be quiet.

“I just wanted to say sorry. About them. They don’t know how to talk to girls, I promise they’re not that bad,” he said, holding his skateboard at his side. His genuineness surprised you.

“So you do?”

He gave you a confused look, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Know how to talk to girls,” you clarified and he chuckled.

“I know a thing or two. I’m Robby,” the boy stuck out his hand for you to take.

“Wow you’re good,” you joked. “I’m Y/N,” you took his rough hand in your soft one.

-

After that day at the skatepark, you couldn’t stop thinking about Robby.

You don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was his glittery eyes. Or his pretty hair. Or the way he smiled with his whole face. Or maybe it was how he talked in a way that told you he was smarter than most people.

Maybe it was all of those things that made you daydream like a schoolgirl with a crush. And all you wanted to do was see him again.

“Jenny doesn’t even deserve the variation, I mean we all saw what happened last time. She almost fell off stage! Anyone but her should have it,” your friend Abby ranted, sipping on her milkshake.

It was after rehearsal and your friend group decided to go to a diner to get food.

“It’s clearly favoritism. She could do the whole routine wrong and Ms. Adams would still choose her. I think Jenny’s parents are definitely bribing her,” your other friend Vanessa added to the gossip.

The whole time, you were half listening to the conversation and half thinking about a certain skater boy. You couldn’t even control it; your thoughts always somehow drifted to him.

“Oh my god. Skaters,” Abby whispered, making you snap out of your daydream. You looked up to see a pack of boys coming into the restaurant, holding their boards at their hips.

Among them was your little brother and your heart raced as you recognized all of them.

It was like your overflow of thoughts about him had somehow materialized right in front of you. Robby.

Your hands started to sweat and you contemplated if you should hide or say hello, or just act like you didn’t see him.

You decided to go for the latter, and you slumped down in your seat to make yourself less noticeable.

“God, look at them. Skater boys are the scum of the earth,” Abby uttered, making a face of distaste.

“I would never date one. Even that’s below me,” Vanessa scoffed in reply.

You felt your cheeks heat up at their remarks, now feeling ashamed for your growing feelings for the very thing they were so disgusted at.

“Same,” you replied, despite feeling conflict in your heart. You looked over Vanessa’s shoulder to see him laughing with his group, and his happiness made your heart warm.

Before you could look away, his eyes met yours. You cursed internally at your ruined plans of trying to ignore him, but the damage was done. You shot him a small smile and a nod before returning your gaze back to your friends.

It took everything in you to not look at him again, especially with the feeling of his stare on you.

“Holy shit. One of them’s coming over,” Abby said in a hushed tone, your stomach dropping at her words.

You looked up to see Robby heading over to your table as you panicked on the inside.

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he approached, and you looked back at his table to see his friends watching.

“Robby! Hi!” you greeted nervously. “Uh, these are my friends. Abby and Vanessa. Girls, this is Robby,” you introduced them.

“Nice to meet you,” he nodded at them, and they waved. Their smiles were definitely fake, and you could tell how hard they were judging the boy in front of you.

“So, um, do you guys come here a lot?” you tried to make conversation, but the air was too awkward to be saved.

“Not really, our usual place was closed so we came here,” Robby explained, glaring at his friends who were starting to boisterously taunt. “I should go. Sorry about them. Again. Just wanted to say hey.”

“All good,” you laughed. “See you.”

As he walked back to his table your friends turned to you, mouths agape.

“You know him?! What was that?” Abby inquired, giving you a look of disbelief.

“He’s... he’s just my brother’s friend,” you shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Just your brother’s friend. He totally had heart eyes for you Y/N!” Vanessa nudged your side, making you shake your head in denial.

You rolled your eyes, but what she said gave you butterflies. “No way, I’ve only met him once.”

“Whatever, just don’t fall into the trap. You’re too good for a skater. They’re scum, remember?” Abby said, as she chewed obnoxiously on a fry. You found yourself suddenly annoyed at her.

“Yeah, of course. I would never,” you contradicted your feelings.

They were probably right. You don’t even know Robby, and you were from completely different worlds.

-

You told yourself that you would push away your growing feelings for Robby. But you couldn’t help but be excited when you have to pick up Riley from the skatepark. You couldn’t help asking your brother maybe too many questions about him, and you couldn’t help looking out for him every time you would go to the diner with your girls.

He would always talk to you, making you giddy for the rest of the day. You found yourself wanting to see him more and more.

“So how long have you been skating?” you asked the boy beside you.

You were waiting for Riley to finish so you could go home, but you let him take his time.

“I started when I was 11, but it’s been on and off,” Robby replied. “Have you ever skated?”

You laughed at the thought of yourself on a board. “Never. It looks cool though,” you watched as your brother skated off some stairs.

“I think you’d be good at it. I mean ballet and skating are pretty much the same thing,” he grinned at you, making you blush and look away from him.

“Ballet and skating couldn’t be more different,” you disagreed.

Robby shrugged. “Wrong. Both are centered around balance. Skating, if you think about it, is choreography. Sure we’re not as graceful, but it’s not as different as you think.”

You smiled to yourself at his wiseness. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment of silence between you two as you both sat at the edge of the bowl.

“So when are we starting?” he spoke, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“Starting what?”

“I’m teaching you how to skate,” he answered nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t giving you a choice.

“What? I-I can’t skate,” you stammered. The thought of you embarrassing yourself in front of him made you want to puke.

“Which is why I’m teaching you. Come on, I promise I won’t let you hurt your pretty little ballerina face,” Robby smiled.

Your head suddenly felt dizzy at his small remark. Pretty. “I don’t know Robby...”

“Tomorrow. At 5. I’ll even take you to that diner you like after. It’s a date,” he said surely, making your cheeks warm up again.

A date? Your heart fluttered at the thought of him wanting to hang out with you. Alone. On a freaking date.

“Okay, fine,” you bit your lip, trying to hold back a huge smile. “But only because of the promise of food.”

-

“I hate you,” Robby huffed as he watched you effortlessly roll past him on his skateboard.

“I can’t believe you compared this to ballet, this is so easy,” you jeered, laughing at his defeated look.

“Oh calm down Ms. Black Swan, you haven’t learned any tricks yet,” he stood up, walking over to you. “I’m going to teach you an ollie.”

He grabbed the board and stood on it, leaning down on the edge with one foot so that the board was wheels up on the other side. “Just do that.”

Robby handed you the skateboard, and you copied everything he did. Except you lost your balance and the wheels slipped from underneath you. You grabbed onto his shoulders as a reflex.

Your breath hitched as Robby’s placed his hands on your hips to steady you, and your faces were inches away. He was so close that you could feel his breath and see the pattern of his eyes.

“Not so easy, is it now?” he said softly, still holding onto you. The air was now filled with a thick tension and you felt woozy from being so close to him.

“I... I guess not,” you fumbled over your words, feeling incredibly nervous looking into his eyes.

None of you were pulling away, and you weren’t sure if you should be the first to do so.

“Can I kiss you?” Robby whispered, making you breathless. You were sure that he could hear your heartbeat, because it felt like it was consuming you.

You only nodded, feeling speechless, and he leaned in to press your lips together.

It was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And you dreamed about it a lot.

-

“You’re so much different from your friends. How come?” You chewed on a fry, questioning the boy sitting in the diner booth in front of you.

Robby tapped his lip in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I just balance out the group. You’re different from your friends too. I mean I’ve only met them once, but I don’t think they like me,” he replied, and you cringed at the memory of your friends being so judgmental.

“That makes sense. And sorry about them. They can be... mean,” you apologized on their behalf, almost in the same way that Robby would for his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Robby looked behind you, making your eyes widen. You turned around and there they were. Abby and Vanessa. You didn’t even care that they were hanging out with you; you were worried that they would see you with Robby.

You slumped down in your seat like you did when you were trying to hide from Robby before. “We should go now, right? It’s getting pretty late.”

Robby gave you a weird look, “Um... sure.”

“Y/N?” a dreaded voice called your name before you could make your escape.

You faced your two best friends. “Hey guys,” you said sheepishly as they walked up to your table.

“What are you doing with him? Oh my god, are you two on a date?” Abby gasped.

Vanessa joined in, “You said you’d never date someone like him. Oh come on Y/N, you know he’s not good enough for you. What happened to boys like him are below us?”

Robby’s face flashed with pain, but you were so selfish that you didn’t even notice.

“No- I- We’re just friends, I swear it’s not a date. I would never-” you stuttered, trying to save yourself, and you didn’t even think of Robby’s feelings at all. In the moment you only cared about your reputation and what your friends thought of you.

The boy you liked so much got up from the booth, throwing a wad of cash on the table. You felt your heart break as he walked away without a word and clenched fists.

You got up to follow him, but your friends pulled you back. “Just let him go Y/N. He’ll just break your heart,” Abby said coldly.

You ripped your arm away from their grip, running through the diner to catch up to Robby.

“Robby! Please, stop, I’m sorry,” you called after him, trying to keep up with how fast he was walking.

He ignored you the first time, increasing his pace.

“Please, Robby, can we just talk about it? I’m stupid, okay? Don’t go,” you pleaded, and he finally stopped in his tracks.

You’ve never seen his face like that, a mixture of anger and pain. The fact that it was directed towards you made you want to just melt away.

“You want to talk? Am I even good enough to talk to you? I’m sorry, should I be on my knees right now your majesty?” he said angrily, and you felt like crying.

You shook your head, “No, no Robby I swear I don’t think of you that way. I said things that I don’t mean and I’m so sorry. I- I just... my friends were saying all this shit about-”

“Just- just stop. You’re saying different things to different people, and I’m just supposed to trust you? And what, was I just going to be a secret? Look, I have to go,” he turned around to keep walking but you took his hand.

“I was going to tell them Robby, I like you so much and please, I’ll fix it. I’ll talk to them and-”

He cut your frantic rambling off again, “Y/N... I like you too alright? And I get it. I get wanting to fit in with your friends, even if you don’t agree with them. I learned from it myself. I just need time to think about all of it.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

You nodded in understanding, but your heart was hurting. “I’m sorry,” you said one last time before he took off on his skateboard.

a/n: why was that sm longer than i planned... also sorry for any mistakes im too lazy to edit. there probably won’t be a part 2 because the song doesn’t have a happy ending lol hope u enjoyed!!!!

[yoonpobs]

I always see oblivious oc and a member but can we see an oblivious or aloof member and hopelessly in love oc 😎

how about aware, aloof and kind of mean hobi and hopelessly pining oc

pairing: hoseok x oc

genre: would u consider this angst 🙃

warnings: hobi is kind of mean, but for a reason. do we unpack this reason? no we don't. 

words: 1, 024

“Hey … I got you—” You stutter over your words, nearly fumbling with the iced latte as you attempt to shift your focus anywhere but Hoseok’s consuming gaze, “—a drink. Yeah. It’s hot.” You blink when he does. “I mean the weather. Hence the iced latte. Not the drink. The weather.” 

Taehyung would be so embarrassed by you right now but you were already there, so might as well, you tell yourself—despite the burn in your cheeks.

“Oh,” He collects the drink from you, inspects it like it would do him harm. You try to ignore the way your heart drops with a forced smile. “I only drink Americanos.”

And like that, Jung Hoseok has the ability to reduce you to feeling so small that you cower under his furrowed brows. You can’t even find it in you to be angry with him because he genuinely looks confused as if he’d expected you to get it right.

You thought you did, maybe your intuition was wrong.

“O-Oh t-that’s fine!” You stammer, taking the drink out of his hand like it was a bother. “I-I can get you another?” You offer timidly.

You nearly forget that he’s not alone. It’s easy to forget the presence of another person when all your senses are so in tuned to only see and feel Hoseok, even if he was blunt and a little mean. But he was so so cool and you really wanted to get to know him. Even if you didn’t, the way he carried himself on campus was enough to make you swoon.

“I should go,” You think his name is Jungkook. He’s a year younger than you, but he’s big and tall. He cocks his thumbs awkwardly to the side, giving Hoseok a firm pat on his back to bid adieu like most guys do before he shoots you one last glance that looks too pitiful for you to properly acknowledge.

Hoseok still placates your timid stature, even if you’ve shrunken back into your shell. But you didn’t spend eleven dollars on the iced latte to not talk to him, even if it was a failure on your end. It was just an opportunity and you were an opportunist.

“M-Maybe we can …” You trail off, pressing a nail into your palm to ease your nerves when all Hoseok does is just … stare, “we can go—together?” Your voice lifts towards the end on a hopeful note, but his face doesn’t give his thoughts away and you can only clear your throat to fill the silence.

“I don’t think so.” He returns, not unkindly.

Your shoulders droop, but you still had a foolish sense of hope in your chest.

“How about—?”

“Look,” He sighs, tugging his bag pack over his shoulder, “____, was it?”

At least he knows your name. Kind of.

You nod your head blindly.

“You’re … nice,” He hesitates and you’re fully aware that he’s cherry-picking the words as if he was afraid to hurt your feelings. “But I’m not interested.”

You blink.

“Yeah,” you breathe, letting out a forced laugh as you swallow, “T-That’s fine! W-We can just … be friends?” 

Hoseok shakes his head apologetically, providing you with a half-hearted smile that you can’t seem to return.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You like me and … yeah. It’ll be messy.” He shrugs.

You frown even if there’s a fierce blush on your cheeks at the way he so clearly shoots you down and unpicks the crevices of your mind. He’s not looking at you maliciously, you don’t think Hoseok is ever capable of being malicious. But there’s still a part of you that holds on to your wishful thinking as you bounce off each heel.

“I can work with that!” You say all too enthusiastically that Hoseok winces, “I won’t … do anything. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Your eyes are bright and wide, a pool of innocence that circles through your irises when Hoseok stares your hopeful expression down. You still have a smile on your face, though you don’t know if it’s forced or genuine, it does the job—you hope.

It’s a little pitiful, the way you’re offering all your cards to Hoseok just so you could be close to him. Maybe it was the selfish part of you that wanted to see where your friendship with him would go, to see if perhaps the senior would like you back one day—even if you’re forcibly entered into the friend zone. 

“You can’t promise me that.” He says curtly, his heel turning out to say that this was the last thing he was going to grace you with. “Move on, okay? You’re nice.” He sighs.

When he turns his back to you, only do you tug at the elbow of his denim jacket. You can see the way he scowls, possibly ready to chew you out for laying a hand on him—but you move faster before he can get a word out.

“Not even friends?” You ask so softly, eyes cast to your feet.

Hoseok purses his lips, snatching his arm away.

“No.”

And he leaves.

.

“Hey …” Jungkook nudges Hoseok with his shoulder.

Hoseok glances up, an apparent frown on his face as he raises a brow.

“Anything you need, kid?” He grunts.

“Isn’t that …” He trails off, eyes following his words while Hoseok mimics the gesture like second nature.

He’s not even surprised to see you. Your paths crossed quite often even if you were the one that was pining. Hoseok noticed you, he always did.

This time, you’re accompanied by Min Yoongi by your side, all suave when he opens the door for you and allows you to walk through it first.

“Yeah?” Hoseok sighs, turning his head away and he ignores the way it feels heavy to do so.

Jungkook shrugs, “I dunno. Thought she was crushing on you. Like majorly.” It’s off-handed, too innocent to mean anything. But Hoseok still scowls.

“She doesn’t,” Hoseok says, eyes resting on the way you smile up at Yoongi like he rearranged the stars for you, “They never do.”

[blu-joons]

When You Support Them During The House Party Comeback ~ Super Junior Reaction

Leeteuk:

Your expression softened the moment you walked into the dressing room and saw Jeongsu sat with his head in his hands. “Everything going alright?” You asked him, noticing the chaos of the other members who sat around, frowning as he looked across at you.

“I’m just doing a lot of thinking,” he admitted, encouraging you to take a seat beside him.

You nodded understandingly, studying his face closely, “anything that you happen to be thinking about particularly?”

“Just how lucky I am,” he whispered, not wanting any of the others to here. “I never imagined when we released Twins that I’d still be sitting in dressing rooms fifteen years later preparing to perform on music shows still.”

Whilst Jeongsu had always been one to reflect as the leader, you were well aware that their recent anniversary had triggered a new wave of feelings in him. “It’s nice to see you perform without the rookie pressure these days.”

“I’m definitely starting to feel my age,” he chuckled in response to you, “one run through of House Party and I’m ready for a nap.”

“Just at least try and look young in front of the cameras,” you teased.

His hand reached out to push against your arm, “as long as everyone else still thinks I’m young, you can be the one to deal with my old bones at the end of the show.”

“You know that I’ll take the best care of you!”

Heechul:

As you walked in on Heechul running through his rap once again, a proud smile graced your face, noticing his eyes fall on you once he’d finished. “Sounds good,” you complimented, walking into his open arms as he reached out for you to approach him.

“I wish that I could do more,” he admitted, kissing softly against the top of your head.

Your brows furrowed instantly, “you do as much as you can, and I know the fans and the boys all appreciate it too.”

“At times I wonder how different things could be if I was able to perform on the stage though,” he sighed, “it still never quite feels the same only being able to spend a few moments on stage, it wasn’t supposed to be the way.”

You reached across and placed your hand into his tightly, “just being on the stage is huge for you, whilst you can’t change the years you’ve spent on the side-line, you’re here for this comeback, which I’m sure means the world.”

“It does feel nice to be around the group for a comeback again,” he confessed, taking a quick look around the room.

“And I know they’re all happy to see you too,” you noted.

His head nodded proudly, “I don’t want to get myself upset, I know that I should just be thankful for the chance to even be on the stage right now.”

“There’s nothing wrong with getting upset, it’s understandable.”

Yesung:

As Jungwoon placed his camera in front of you yet again, your hand reached out and pushed it away to face the members beside you. “I’m not a part of this,” you reminded him, pointing out to the carnage that was surrounding you both instead.

“You’re here supporting me, it’s a big deal,” he replied, turning his camera back around again.

Your eyes rolled at how persistent he was, “at least take some pictures of the group so that you can remember this time.”

“We’ve been together for weeks, I’ve got plenty with those losers,” he laughed, “but it’s my first time having you at one of our music shows, so I want the chance to take a photograph of you to remember this time.”

Despite your protests, you soon ended up smiling for Jungwoon to take a photo of you, only to be quickly interrupted by Hyukjae by your side. “I don’t remember asking for a group photo to be taken of us all.”

“I just want a picture of Y/N,” Jungwoon complained, pushing Hyukjae to one side, “my whole album is full of your ugly face.”

“I’ll have you know my face is very photogenic,” Hyukjae argued.

Jungwoon’s head shook, taking your hand and dragging you to somewhere where he could get you alone. “I’m determined to get a picture of you today.”

“Good luck with all of these guys around us.”

Shindong:

Your hand came over your mouth as you spotted Donghee miming against the mirror. It didn’t disguise the small squeal that came from you. “Sorry,” you whispered as his head snapped around to see where the noise had come from, grinning when he saw you.

“I’m just trying to create the perfect ending fairy,” he announced to you.

Your eyes rolled at his smile, “just smile and you’ll be perfect. What exactly are you trying to come up with for it anyway?”

“I thought I’d try and mime,” he spoke, repeating his actions once again so you could see what he was working on. “It’s something I’ve not seen anyone do before, even SHINee didn’t come up with something like that.”

You couldn’t help but be impressed not only by his creative mind, but also his high skills when it came to dance. “I think the fans will love it, and I know that you’re enjoying yourself whilst you’re creating it too.”

“I’ve definitely missed performing live,” he smiled, “I’ve just got the camera block to make sure that this looks as good as I want it too.”

“From what I’ve seen, it’ll be brilliant on the show,” you hummed.

His arm moved to wrap tightly around your shoulders, “if nothing else, knowing that I’ve put a smile on your face by doing it has already made it a good decision to make.”

“Everyone will smile watching you, I just know it.”

Eunhyuk:

His eyes fell on you as soon as you found him hidden away in the corridor of M Countdown, pausing his phone as you approached him. “You know the routine Hyukjae, there’s no need to worry,” you quickly tried to comfort him before he started again.

“I just want to make sure everything is perfect,” he frowned, letting go of a sigh.

You walked over and took a hold of his hands before he could continue, “you’ve danced for years, as soon as you step on the stage, you’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he frowned, leaning forwards to rest his forehead against yours, “I’ve been going through it so much with everyone else that suddenly it just feels like I’m the one who has no idea how the routine goes anymore.”

Your hand moved up to cup the side of his face, “why don’t you go over it once, with me? If you’re perfect, then you stop practicing, and if you make a mistake, you still stop practicing because you know you’ll be fine.”

“How’s that fair?” He laughed, “either way you end up getting your way, but what happens if I truly make a mistake Y/N?”

“I know that you won’t, that’s why,” you assured him.

His smile grew as you squeezed his hands, “I don’t know how you manage to make me feel better so often when I’m so full of self-doubt. How do you do it Y/N?”

“Because I know exactly what you’re like Hyukjae.”

Siwon:

Sweaty arms wrapped around you as soon as Siwon made his way off the stage, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “You’re gross,” you remarked, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but his strong arms kept you against his chest despite your protests.

“You should be telling me you’re proud of me,” he quickly retaliated against you.

Your eyes rolled, “you know that I’m proud of you, but not when you’re stuck to me, at least go and get a shower first.”

“You don’t normally complain like this,” he teased, unwrapping himself from around you as a member of staff began to remove his mic pack. “What did you think of the stage. anyway, did you enjoy being a part of our House Party.”

Without a thought, your head nodded excitedly. “You were centre a lot, but you absolutely killed it. Sometimes I watch you and I still feel like I’m watching you back in 2010, the last decade all feels like a blur.”

“My body is certainly starting to feel it,” he grinned, grabbing onto your shoulder, “can you believe we always used to perform at that intensity?”

“I reckon you still could if you tried hard enough,” you wisely responded.

Siwon’s eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden remark, “this is my workplace, I can’t believe you’d even dare try and suggest such things right now.”

“I have no idea what you could be talking about.”

Donghae:

You sat back as Donghae moved around the dressing room, making sure to record as much as he could for his vlog. “Have you got any footage of yourself?” You asked as he passed you by again to record the mountain of food that was on the table.

“The fans don’t want to see me,” Donghae argued, keeping his camera out of your reach.

Your head shook, trying to grab onto it, “let me record you for a minute, you’ve at least got to show off that ponytail you’re rocking.”

“The fans have already seen my hair,” he tried to argue, but it was too late, you finally had a hold of his camera and quickly started following him around. “Are you really going to be alright with your voice being in the vlog.”

Your head nodded as you moved with him around the dressing room, “I’m sure the fans will thank me for filling them up on Donghae content, don’t you worry. Now, tell the fans a bit about what you’re doing right now.”

“I’m finding the right bandana to go with my outfit,” he informed the camera, holding up the selection that he’d picked out.

“What about the one that I bought for you?” You quickly suggested.

Donghae reached in and pulled out the black and white bandana you bought when he first started growing his hair out. “I was leaning towards this one anyway.”

“I know you were, because I bought it for you.”

Ryeowook:

His silence instantly concerned you as you walked back into the dressing room once everyone was changed and prepared for the comeback stage. “Feeling good?” You asked Ryeowook, desperate to get even a couple of words out of him to reassure yourself.

“It’s been a little while, even if there’s no audience,” he admitted in response.

Your head nodded, “I’m sure it feels strange without Elf there to support you guys, but they’ll all be watching, around the world.”

“I still feel like a rookie,” he sighed, brushing his hand gently through his fringe, “I look around and see all these younger singers, and that still feels like me, but it’s not. How have our fans stuck around with us for so many years?”

Your smile softened, taking a tight hold of his hand, “your fans have stuck around because you guys are amazing. Even if you’re far from rookies, you still have that rookie mind that makes people always fall in love with you.”

“I feel a lot better after talking to you,” he whispered, straightening out his suit jacket, “will you be there watching?”

“Of course, just have a little confidence in yourself,” you smiled.

His head nodded, unable to hide the growing smile that developed on his face, “I know what you’re trying to do, but I’m confident of putting on a good show.

“That’s what I love to hear from you.”

Kyuhyun:

The flash of a light coming across your face yet again caused you to groan, your eyes flickered up and pushed Kyuhyun to one side. “You’ll drain the battery of that before you get on the stage,” you sighed, knowing how bad of an idea it was to trust him with a prop.

“They’ve got hundreds of lights for Burn the Floor,” he smugly teased back at you.

Your eyes rolled, trying to reach out to take the light, “I’ll be blind before I get to see you guys perform the song too.”

“So dramatic,” Kyuhyun scoffed, placing the light down on the table. “If you play your cards right, I could try and steal one of these to take back to the dorm and give you your own private performance of the song.”

Your hand pushed against his shoulder, sending him stumbling back, “why would I want to watch it at the dorm when I could watch all of you here, live? And the proper dancers are here then, I don’t have to watch you.

“How dare you,” he chuckled, stepping back towards you, “do you not remember I was a lead dancer in Bonamana all those years ago?”

“Many years ago,” you laughed, “I think a lot has changed since then.”

Kyuhyun’s head shook, picking the light back up, “you just wait, the performance I give you simply won’t compare to what you’ll see on the stage in a while.”

“It won’t compare, but not in a good way Kyu.”

---

Masterlist

[nbrook29]

Ahhh, I love your writing!

67- “It’s you, it’s always been you.”

Only if you want, thks :)

Hello anon :) Thank you, you're very sweet 😚

Here it goes, I hope it doesn't suck, my writing vibes have been off 😢:

67. It's you, it's always been you.

* * *

“Man, this thing sucks. I was promised hot chicks from the dance school and I can’t see even one, what the fuck.”

Robbe turns his eyes to Moyo, shooting him a half-hearted apologetic smile, his thoughts far away from his friends bickering next to him as they cross the gate to the carnival. It’s getting late, the sky had turned dark before they even left their houses and the place greets them with an onslaught of neons from every corner, cheesy song playing in the background, and Robbe can’t help but hear a particular deep voice commenting on the music being shit in his head.

He sighs, trying to chase the thought away and not go there again, plastering a fake-cheeriness on his face as he suggests they all get a beer and find a table somewhere. It takes 15 minutes of standing in a line to finally get the drinks and in the end, they have to resort to sitting on the grass because the place is packed. It looks like every single kid from their school is here tonight along with half of the city, to be exact, and Robbe snorts to himself when he thinks back to the broers’ plans this morning, talking about finally making a move on the dance girls. Good luck trying to find them.

They’re in the middle of arguing about which attraction they should go check out first when Robbe’s phone pings with a message.

Noor: ROBBE

Noor: !!!!!!!!!!!!

Robbe: Wha???

Noor: LILY HAS BEEN FLIRTING WITH ME THE WHOLE EVENING

Noor: AND WE KISSED

Robbe: Whoa you go girl! 💪🏻💜

Robbe: Told you she's into you 😎😎😎

Noor: 🙄 whatever

Noor: I'M SO HAPPY 💖💖💖

Robbe: Haha I can see that, you only use black hearts, she must be special 😜

Noor: 🖕🏻

Noor: She isssss ❤

Robbe: I'm so happy for you ❤

Noor: 🖤🖤🖤

Noor: Is your lover boy at the carnival? 😏

Robbe: I don't have a lover boy 🙄

Robbe: And no he's not

Noor: Aww 😕

Robbe: It doesn't matter anyway

Robbe: It's better this way

Noor: For fuck's sake Robbe I'mma spank you into submission one day if you don't stop with this bullshit

Robbe: Kinky

Noor: I'm serious 🤨

Noor: Please please please promise me if you see him tonight you'll talk to him???

Robbe: Can't you just let it go??

Noor: Hell will freeze over before I'll let this go

Noor: Consider yourself warned

Robbe: Why are you so pressed about this jesus

Noor: Because I want you to be as happy as me!

Robbe: What do you want me to do exactly? I can't make him like me Noor

Robbe: It's done okay?

Robbe: I got my answer I told u

Robbe: I'm serious let it go

Noor: Baby 🥺

Robbe: I'm gonna be okay

Robbe: Go now

Robbe: I'm Lily's getting jealous over your texting 😉

Noor: Ugh okay

Noor: Ttyl

Noor: I love you 🖤

Robbe: 🖤

Under the chat with Noor there’s another message that makes him feel a pang in his heart.

Sander: Are you okay?

He scrubs his face and starts working on that fake smile again when Aaron shouts, “Ferris Wheel! Please you guys, I’ve always wanted to go on a ride!”

Moyo and Jens make some protesting sounds, claiming it’s boring as fuck if you don’t go with somebody to make out with up there. Robbe’s about to join the conversation when he sees a flicker of white hair somewhere in the crowd, and his heart starts beating faster despite him trying to stay indifferent, but when he blinks, it’s gone. He curses under his breath for being such a lovesick fool.

“Robbe? Go with me? Please?”

Robbe widens his eyes at Aaron’s pleading face, and shakes his head with an uncomfortable laughter. “No way, dude, I’m not a fan of this kind of stuff.”

“It’s not even that high! And it’s super safe, look!” Aaron waves vaguely at the Ferris Wheel, his eyes getting bigger and bigger with each “please”.

“Why do you even care so much?”

“Because I wanna try it out before I take Amber there, duuh!”

Robbe glances at the wheel with reluctance in his eyes, weighing his options before finally huffing a long-suffering “okay” at Aaron because he’s a pushover. It sucks, but he made his peace with that.

They leave Moyo and Jens chilling on the grass and go stand in the surprisingly short line to the wheel, Aaron’s practically bouncing on his feet when he’s telling Robbe about his plans to take Amber to the carnival tomorrow. Robbe indulges him and holds back any comments that he has at the tip of his tongue about the girl as they slowly move towards the front of the line, finally reaching the fence and paying for the admission.

Once they’re seated and reality hits in, Robbe can feel a weird feeling slowly encompassing his body and he realizes this is a bad idea. He hates highs. What the fuck is he doing on a Ferris Wheel?!

It seems like a similar thought is crossing Aaron’s mind because the boy is ghost white as he suddenly stands up and starts getting out of the cart.

“Fuck, man, I don’t think I can do this, it’s fucking scary, I’m sorry!”

And then he leaves, leaving Robbe gapping after him in shock. Before he can react and get out himself, the cart shakes with additional weight dropping on it, and when Robbe turns his head back to see what is going on, he’s met with an unsure smile, gracing the most beautiful face he’s ever seen.

“Do you mind if I take his spot?”

Robbe keeps staring as Sander pushes the railing down, making himself comfortable before looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah, um, sure,” he squeaks out, super aware of how close they’re sitting, his already racing heart now threatening to fall out of his chest. Sander shoots him a grateful smile and runs a hand through his hair and messes it up, almost making Robbe whimper with how good he looks.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He needs to pull himself together.

The wheel starts moving and for a second Robbe forgets all about who’s sitting next to him, gripping the railing tightly and taking deep breaths, at the same time trying to remain cool and unaffected.

“You didn’t answer my text.”

Sander’s words break the cloud of fear that is currently fogging Robbe’s brain and he peeks at him, noticing how he bites on his bottom lip, looking almost shy. His eyes carry some vulnerability in them that doesn’t fit the image of Sander Robbe has in his head - always cool and composed, witty, flirty, edgy artist who makes girls and boys swoon after him.

He swallows and tries to figure out an excuse. “I’m sorry, I read it, but I was super busy and I completely forgot.” He cringes as soon as the words are out when he sees a glimpse of hurt passing Sander’s features. Great, now he sounds like an asshole.

“Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry,” Sander replies, pretending to be unaffected. “Do you, um, do you wanna hang out tomorrow maybe? To make up for last Thursday?” His voice sounds full of hope and Robbe hates himself for having to shoot him down again, but he needs to take care of his own heart first.

“Sander, I-, look, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

There it is. The smile slowly but surely slipping off Sander’s face and hurting Robbe in the process. But this is the right thing to do. He knows that.

They’re almost at the top when Sander speaks again. “Can you tell me why?” He asks softly.

Robbe fights with himself whether this is the right place to come clean, but he can’t let him think there’s something wrong with him.

So he takes a deep breath and squeezes out, “Because I like you more than just a friend and I can’t pretend I’m not.”

Before Sander can answer, he beats him up to it. “And I know now that you have Younes, I saw you guys, it’s okay, I understand, he’s great, I’m happy for you guys, really, I-”

The wheel comes to a sudden stop, making the cart shake ominously, and Robbe’s heart lodges itself in his throat as he realizes the horrible truth: they’re stuck. At the top. So so high up.

He’s gonna be sick.

He starts breathing quickly, verging on hyperventilating when he feels Sander’s hands on his cheeks, and he registers his soothing voice telling him to calm down and that it’s going to be okay.

“Are you scared of heights?”

Robbe nods shakily, blushing beet red at the situation, feeling embarrassed at his state. When he manages to open his eyes, he’s met with a set of green looking back at him, worried and compassionate.

“Breathe with me, okay?” Sander takes one deep exaggerated breath to encourage him to do the same, and Robbe tries his hardest to follow him. There are voices coming from the ground telling them they need to stay calm and that they’re gonna be down in no time, as the technicians are already working on solving the issue.

But Robbe doesn’t fully register them, too focused on how close Sander is sitting now, their thighs pressed together, how he can smell his aftershave and see his moles clearer than ever before.

There’s a voice in the back of his head telling him to stop enjoying this because Sander has a boyfriend and this is wrong, but then Sander rests his forehead against his, shortcutting any thoughts whatsoever.

“I don’t know what you saw, but Younes is my best friend. We’re not together, Robbe.”

“But, you were all touchy and,” he swallows. “I saw you kissing. In the movies.”

A small frown appears on Sander’s forehead. “We’re comfortable with each other, sure, but there has never been any kissing. Younes is straight. And taken, by the way.”

And, okay, weird. Could he really misjudge the situation so badly? Sure, he didn’t see them kissing per se, but they were leaning towards each other? Sort of? He thinks?

Fuuuuuck.

“Oh wow, I think, um, I misinterpreted some stuff,” he admits, embarrassed, eyes downcast as he feels Sander nodding against his forehead with a tiny smile.

“Quite a lot of stuff, actually. Like, for example, that I like you like a friend.”

“That’s a lot of like in one sentence,” Robbe blurts off like an idiot, making Sander let out that adorable snort of his that pulls a quiet chuckle out of Robbe too.

“Well, there’s a lot of liking involved when it comes to my feelings for you,” he says, eyes shining with sincerity, and he glances the tip of his nose against Robbe’s, the gesture liquifying his insides.

“There’s a lot of liking involved when it comes to my feelings for you as well,” he whispers back, too shy for his own liking, but Sander just has that effect on him. It doesn’t matter though because suddenly the boy’s lips stretch in a beaming smile that’s so radiant it almost makes the night look brighter.

They’re staring at each other with similar expressions, sharing air as their foreheads remain glued together, and then Sander closes the distance between them, capturing Robbe’s lips in a soft kiss that makes his sigh, hands letting go of the railing and traveling on their own accord to Sander’s jaw. His head is spinning for a totally different reason now, and when he feels the tip of Sander’s tongue grazing his bottom lip he opens his mouth right away, going pliant under his touch.

He can’t quite believe what’s happening, how just half an hour ago he was feeling sorry for himself, thinking Sander is officially off limits, and now he can feel the boy’s secure hold on his waist and taste the sugary sweet cotton candy on his tongue.

“Hey, you’re breathing normally now,” Sander notes happily, his lips red and glistening as he breaks the kiss.

He looks even more gorgeous now and Robbe can’t help himself as he runs his thumb across his plump bottom lip and scores a tiny kiss there too, pulling a blush out of him.

“So, does that mean you will go out with me now?” Sander flutters his eyelashes at him, a pout on his lips as he puts his hands together in a “please” sign, and he looks so cute that Robbe can’t do more but nod, giggling when Sander hisses a satisfied yes! under his breath.

“Hey, no laughing, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw you,” Sander tsks at him, eyes narrowed in seriousness that would look legit if his smile was any smaller.

“You have?”

“Yeah. I was like, how the fuck am I supposed to convince the most beautiful boy on the planet to go on a date with me?”

Robbe bites his lip bashfully, aware of the heat spreading on his neck under Sander’s words.

“I was sure you didn’t like me like that, you know,” he reaches to entangle their fingers, patting himself on the back for winning with his nervousness.

Sander squeezes his hand. "And I thought you were into somebody else, made me so sad."

"What? Fuck no, it's you, it's always been you," he rushes to reassure him, blushing again at his eagerness, but it earns him another kiss, this one just when the cart lurches forward as the Wheel comes alive again.

It painfully reminds him of where they are, but before he can fully freak out Sander brings him closer to his chest, acting like a man on a mission and not stopping with his mindblowing kisses until their cart safely reaches the ground.

"We made it," he murmurs, placing the last lingering kiss against Robbe's lips and the boy thanks him for being his knight in a shining armor.

"Hey, Sander?"

"Yes?"

"Just promise me our date won't take place at the fair. I won't survive another ride."

[ri-ahhh]

can u write something about grayson being on a business trip and y/n gets bored and horny, so she rides her pillow, but grayson got to go home early so he wants to surprise her and he walks into their room while she’s riding his pillow. omg and her being all flustered but then gray telling her to continue and show him how she gets off when he’s not there. then he fucks her. i wantttt 😌

Oof I haven’t used the pillow method in a looong time lol. I love this tho.

“Let me see!”

You’re lying in bed and holding your phone at a rather unattractive angle, but that allows you to be comfy, as your boyfriend on the other end of the FaceTime call continues being his usual, stubborn self. He’s on a business trip, so to speak, in New York; he and Ethan had both been asked to be in a new Calvin Klein campaign — one that promised to be David Beckham-worthy, both in that it would be only underwear, and in just how sexy her boyfriend will be in those photos.

Which, he apparently has a couple of the test shots the photographer had sent him, and he’s now ridiculously refusing to show you because he ‘doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.’

“You see me in my underwear every day, babe,” he chuckles, his phone shaking a bit with the Uber he’s riding in to LaGuardia, only hours away from being with you in the flesh. “You can wait with everyone else.”

You let out a huff and turn on your side, cuddling one of his pillows to your chest. It smells like him, despite the fact that you’ve been sleeping on it for the last three days he’s been gone.

“Why would you even tell me you have the pictures if you’re not gonna show them to me?” you pout.

He smirks. “Just wanted to see what kind of reaction I could get out of you.”

You groan and roll your eyes, taking in the sight of him on the tiny screen of your phone. The crooked slant of his full lips, the white gleam of his teeth, his Louis sunglasses, his deep voice... and now having to live with your imagination of those photos instead of seeing the real thing?

You miss him, and you want him, and you can’t wait for him to be back. “You’re such a fuckin tease,” you complain. “That was gonna be my spank bank material to hold me off until you get home.”

He’s got his AirPods in, but he still flushes some and glances past his phone at his Uber driver. “I’ll be there before you know it, baby.” His voice drops some, both in volume and timbre. “Besides, now you’ll just be... extra excited to see me, right?”

“I guess,” you sigh, but your thighs still clench at the thought of him in a heavily shadowed, black-and-white photo with every muscle and bulge on display for everyone to see. Your face heats up, and you bite your lip as you stare at him longingly without even realizing as you get lost in your fantasies.

“Okay, fuck,” he mumbles with a little laugh, his head plopping back on the headrest with a groan. “I have to go, before you make me go through security with a big problem.”

“Oh, it’s big all right,” you giggle with a wink. He chuckles again and shakes his head, and you let out a sigh. “I love you. Have a safe flight, okay?”

“Love you too. I’ll text you when I land.”

You toss your phone to the side of the bed once you’ve hung up, and look out the window at the evening sunset. Grayson’s flight is set to land in LA fairly late, so you decide to get some of your nighttime rituals out of the way so the two of you can just crawl into bed together after you pick him up.

But there’s a more pressing matter you might as well attend to before you hop in the shower.

Without your vibrator, which you don’t keep at his place for obvious reasons, you’re stuck with just your fingers. You remind yourself that this is only to hold you off until he’s here in a few hours, though, and not in a few days like it has been.

You pick up your phone again and delve into your ‘my eyes only’ tab on Snapchat, which is filled with private content the two of you have made. You find one of your most favorite videos he’s ever sent you that you’ve saved there from your camera roll. It’s just Grayson, angled low so that his thick, tattooed thighs, his rock hard dick, and the rest of his torso are all in frame.

You tap the still frame and simultaneously sink your hand past your panties, your fingertips already graced with the arousal leaking out of you before you even press ‘play.’ You bend your knees and bow your legs out to the sides, and trail some of your wetness up your slit until you light upon your clit with a little gasp.

The video starts, and instantly you’re met with the slick sounds of his lubricated cock sliding in his own fist. That’s one of the reasons this video in particular is one of your most-watched: the sounds. They turn you on almost as much as the sight on your screen, especially when he gets vocal the better it starts to feel on his end.

You start rubbing circles on your clit, slow and in rhythm with his hand jacking himself off. He always likes to start that way when he masturbates; not necessarily to tease, but to achieve that build-up and to make the end result as intense as possible. He lets out a deep sigh and drags his other hand down his thigh, like you do when you’ve got him in your mouth or in your own hands. He loves the sting, even if his blunt nails aren’t achieving that same sensation, he said once it makes him think of you in that moment.

Your back arches some, and thankfully his hand starts moving a little faster, and you follow his lead with an increased pressure on your sensitive nub. His breaths pick up, little grunts and groans passing from his full, pink lips, which are just barely in view of the camera and swollen from him biting them through his pleasure.

He’s so fucking sexy. You take a moment to just appreciate the image of him on your screen, and it makes your pussy throb as you moan gently. You need him, crave him in this moment after being without him for days on end. You need more than your slim, uncalloused fingers slipping through your folds and manipulating the orgasm out of you so expertly.

In your peripheral, you see the pillow you had been cradling while on the phone with him earlier — his pillow, the one that smells like lumber and his shampoo and Grayson.

You pause the video and sit up until you’re on your knees, and grab the pillow without a second thought. You hadn’t done this in a good while, but the thought of grinding your pussy on the closest thing you have to him in this moment consumes you completely.

You fold it over some so that a ridge forms and straddle it down the middle, facing the foot of the bed. Instantly, your hips rock into the plush yet firm surface you’ve created, and a hollow ache forms deep inside you. There’s also some relief there, though, and it’s only amplified when you start the video once again. You moan a little louder, place your hands on the bed, and start riding the pillow while imagining it’s his thick, hard cock inside you.

That thick, hard cock that looks so enticing on your phone, leaking precum and slick with lube, his abs heaving behind it, his fingers pinching his nipple before dropping down to tug on his balls.

“Fuck me.”

In your lust-fogged brain, you think his voice comes from the video at first. But then it registers how clear it sounded, how loud it was, and your eyes lift to see none other than Grayson himself just past the doorway. His suitcase sits beside him, handle still raised, his backpack hanging off one shoulder as he stands there and stares at you in awe.

You bite back a shriek of terror as a second passes that allows you to comprehend that it’s him and not an intruder. A moment of inevitable awkwardness hangs in the air, not so much because you’re embarrassed, but who really likes being unexpectedly walked in on halfway to orgasming, even if it is by your boyfriend that you’re masturbating to?

You start to scramble off the bed to greet him once you can think straight. What the hell is he doing home already? “What? I —”

“No, don’t get up!” Grayson pleads, glancing at the video of himself that’s still going. He smiles smugly and observes you more thoroughly, in his sweatshirt, riding his pillow in the middle of his bed. “Are you getting off to me, sweetheart? Couldn’t wait for me to get home?”

You sit back on your haunches with the pillow still between your legs, biting your lip and running a hand through your long hair as you take him in fully. The bulge in his sweats is prominent, and the sight makes you clench your thighs around the bulky pillow.

You shake your head in answer to his latter question. “Couldn’t wait. I told you I needed you. You didn’t tell me you were home already, though.”

Grayson drops his backpack to the floor and makes his way to his desk, dark eyes locked on yours the whole time until he plops down in his chair. “I wanted to surprise you. Thought you could wait long enough for me to make it back here, but I guess I was wrong.”

That’s sweet, but why is he still so far away? “C’mere,” you pout, reaching out for him. “I missed you. Want you now.”

He just gives you a seductive smile and shakes his head, one of his big hands palming his erection over his sweats and giving it a little squeeze. Your eyes are drawn there, and you finally reach over and pause the video. You look back at him, and he’s now stroking himself through the fabric as well; you can’t stop your hips from grinding down for some kind of relief.

He eyes you wantonly from his seat, devouring you with his heated gaze. “Did I look good for you, baby? In that video?”

You nod slowly, finding a rhythm with your pussy once again. “Yeah. So good.”

Grayson hums satisfactorily, and his hand slips under his waistband now. He gasps a little; it’s driving you crazy that you can see him now but you can’t see him.

“You look fucking amazing right now,” he says gruffly. “In my sweater. In my bed. Is that my pillow, too?”

Another nod. “Please, Gray.”

“Make yourself cum, baby, then I’ll come touch you. Can’t wait to feel you after so long.”

You whine, but your hips pick up anyways, anything to get him to you as fast as possible. “Lemme see you. I need to see your dick.”

Grayson smirks but allows you that, at least. He whips his shirt off over his head, kicks off those ridiculous Louis slides, and shuffles his pants and underwear down his muscular legs.

He sits back in the desk chair and wraps his hand loosely around his cock, and you relish in finally having a full view of his naked body in all its glory. Your hips start grinding into the pillow, and you find the sweet spot against your clit almost immediately.

You fall into a rhythm again, whining his name and watching him stroke his cock almost lazily. He knows your tells so well, can see in your face and hear in your breathy whimpers and moans that you’re already close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks gruffly. “Come on...”

His raspy encouragements are all you need fall apart, your thighs clenching around the pillow tightly and your head tossed back as you cry out as your orgasm washes over you in deep, shuddering waves.

You feel his hands on you before you see them, coaxing you to lie back and removing the pillow from between your trembling legs. You open your eyes right as he tugs your hips to the edge of the bed, then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties to tug them down your legs. He spreads them wide and drops to his knees before burying his face in your pussy with a harsh, satisfied groan.

You squeal and grab two handfuls of his thick, dark hair. It’s almost too much so soon after your first orgasm, but he works you over with soft suckles and broad swipes of his tongue. He’s eating you up, reacquainting himself with your taste and smell and sounds, letting your arousal coat his tongue and breathing you in and listening to the sweet noises coming out of your mouth because of him.

He slips his hands under your ass so you’re even closer to his face. It feels so good and sounds almost better as he hums and slurps and licks with an unmatched voracity. But you need him in your arms, the weight of how much you missed him hitting you all at once.

“Baby,” you gasp out, tugging on his hair in a different manner than just moments ago. He lifts his head and looks at you concernedly, his face shiny with your wetness. His eyes are sweet and a golden hazel even though his pupils are wide. “C’mere, kiss me, please.”

He obliges at once, climbing up your body and scooting you up the bed before cupping a hand behind your neck and tipping your head up to kiss you. You sigh happily into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his wide torso and holding him close to you. He tastes like your pussy, and your head swims. It feels strange not to have the intimacy of his skin against yours, so you pull back after a minute and lift your arms up in silent request for him to pull it off of you.

He sits up quickly and rucks it up your sides and over your head, tossing it to the floor before covering your body with his again. You both moan in satisfaction when your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest. Grayson leans more on his side so he can swipe a hand up your belly as he kisses you, slipping his tongue past your lips right as he tugs on a sensitive nipple.

It feels good just to make out like this, one of your legs thrown over his, tongues sliding together and exploring each other’s mouths, just being close with one another. With one hand buried in his hair, you slide the other down his broad back until you palm his ass, pushing his hips into yours even more than they already are.

“I need you, Gray,” you gasp into his mouth.

Grayson moans and wastes no time rolling you completely onto your back. He hooks his elbow under one of your knees, and swipes the fingers of his free hand along your slit to test your readiness before using the moisture he collects to coat his cock.

You gasp a little when he slips the tip in, then pulls back and pushes a little more, easing into you slowly and tenderly. Your eyes are locked together as he fills you up, every little detail like that the exact intimacy you had been craving from him earlier.

When he’s completely inside you, he mirrors the position of his arm and your leg on the other side, making sure he’s as deep as he can get as his hips start to move slowly. You clutch at his shoulder with one hand and cup his cheek in the other, stroking his full lower lip sweetly with your thumb.

“I missed you,” you whisper, whimpering as his hips pick up speed some.

“Missed you,” he replies at once, ducking down to meet your lips with his. “Love you.”

“Mm, love you so much, Gray,” you return against his mouth, kissing him once again before dropping your head down to the mattress. “Fuck, that’s so good!”

“Yeah?” he rasps out, giving you those hard, deep strokes that make you feel him in your belly. “Pussy so tight, baby. Missed this fuckin pussy.”

He keeps the pace and the rhythm steady, which combined with the hand you drop to your clit and just having him back in your arms, is all you really need to be right on the edge.

“Gonna cum,” you whine, circling your clit desperately as his dick drives into you perfectly.

Grayson moans and hisses through his teeth when you seize up around him, creating a vice around his cock and your nails digging sharply in the smooth sinews of his back. He drops your legs and lets you ride it out with slowed-down strokes and sweet kisses to your chest and neck, whispering little praises into your ear. How beautiful you are, how much he loves seeing you cum, how happy he is to be home with you again.

You come-to eventually, and rock your hips up to encourage him to move again. You hitch your legs high around his waist as he starts fucking you properly again, his grunts and whispered curses picking up in both pitch and frequency. You smile up at him dazedly and moan encouragingly, watching his gorgeous flushed face as he starts to fall apart himself.

“Where do you want it?” he asks quickly after a couple of minutes.

“Wherever you want, baby. Inside, on my tits, in my mouth —”

With a harsh groan, he pulls out and climbs up your body, jerking himself off with quick, tight strokes at the head.

“Open,” he commands roughly, grasping onto your hair with his free hand. You smile and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just in time to catch the first rope of his cum. Part of it and the next couple streaks land across your nose and forehead, but you don’t mind as the weaker spurts fall nearly into your open mouth.

When he’s done, you watch him pant and slip down next to you. You collect the cum you can feel on your finger and suck it off with a hum, while Grayson slips off the bed and retrieves a tissue to clean up the rest of it. You murmur your thanks, accepting his kiss and letting him swoop you up and carry you to the bathroom with a giggle.

“Gray?” you mumble sleepily into his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Don’t forget to change your pillowcase.”

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried. 

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now. 

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung. 

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police. 

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact. 

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions. 

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” 

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back. 

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either. 

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?” 

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing. 

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.” 

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly. 

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.  

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos. 

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.” 

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone. 

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly. 

“Well, do you know where she is?” 

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers. 

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.” 

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!” 

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.” 

A victim? 

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.” 

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he? 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest. 

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up. 

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days. 

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?” 

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge. 

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.” 

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.” 

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—” 

“No.” 

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do. 

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand. 

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace. 

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home. 

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life? 

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went. 

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well. 

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands. 

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.” 

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.” 

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.” 

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it. 

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you. 

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you. 

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees. 

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.” 

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole. 

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.” 

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much. 

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.” 

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them. 

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”  

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.  

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.” 

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.” 

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.” 

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.” 

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.” 

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.” 

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out. 

“So does your Jungkook do film too?” 

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.” 

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—” 

“God this is so weird.” 

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?” 

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.” 

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?” 

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.” 

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.” 

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.” 

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch. 

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt. 

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly. 

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely. 

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.” 

“Done and done.” 

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast. 

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.” 

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.” 

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you. 

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection. 

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“Will you… fall in love with me again?” 

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”  

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer. 

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.” 

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.” 

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.” 

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.” 

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time. 

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face. 

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile. 

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.” 

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.” 

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

When you wake up, it’s loud. 

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals. 

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months. 

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand. 

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!” 

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice. 

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!” 

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that. 

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning. 

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.” 

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!” 

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion. 

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?” 

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.” 

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook. 

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed. 

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip. 

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.” 

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you. 

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you. 

[mydearesthrry]

places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre. 

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation. 

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right? 

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought. 

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open. 

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way. 

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers. 

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you. 

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion. 

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them. 

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj. 

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless. 

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle. 

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit. 

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.” 

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart. 

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.” 

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his  pockets. 

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

[toosicktoocare]

Let me preface this by saying I’m only in season 1 of The Magnus Archives, and I’m just now getting, I think, legit introduced to Martin. But, I’m lowkey obsessing over it, and I’ve been reading fics for it. So, I just wanted to write this little drabble with Jon and Martin. 

tl;dr: i don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to write this anyway

Martin’s lost in his work, gnawing absently on his lower lip. He’s spent the better half of an hour working through mental scenarios on how to approach a rather complicated statement follow-up, with each idea yielding the same, unfortunate result of a definite “no.” 

He’s mentally working around the kinks, staring blankly at the biography, the adjectives and facts building within the introductory speech he’s writing word for word in his mind, when Tim slips in and slams a folder on his desk, startling him into a jump and a yelp. 

“Tim, what-”

“Take this to Jon, will you?” 

Though a question, Martin can hear the finality coating Tim’s tone, leaving little to no room for question or argument. He glances down at the file, flipping through the documents before bringing a puzzled look toward Tim. 

“This is the research he asked you for. How come-”

“He’s in a mood,” Tim sighs, waving one hand about. “I don’t feel up to dealing with it today.” Tim starts toward the door, turning to offer Martin a quick “thanks” before disappearing around the corner. 

Martin stares blankly at the empty doorway for a long moment, thoughts lost among erupting emotions: nerves, fear, a loud hint of excitement. But then he smooths his hand over the file, recalling the muted sense of urgency in Jon’s tone when he asked Tim for the research yesterday. 

He grabs the folder, clutching it close to his chest for reasons he can’t quite pinpoint, and starts toward the archives, the walk long since easy muscle memory for him. 

The door’s, unsurprisingly, closed when he reaches the archives, and he can hear Jon’s deep vibrato echoing from the gap at the bottom of the door. Martin reaches for the doorknob, hand freezing just before it, hovering in the air. 

Though he would never admit it, Martin’s frequently been hesitating outside of the archives, taking just a few moments to just listen to Jon’s voice, to the way it takes to different timbres as he reads through statements, truly capturing the fear colored behind each word. It’s such a drastic contrast from Jon’s normal, dark, sharp tone, and Martin can’t help but take a few moments to get lost within himself when he listens to Jon read, even if it often results in Jon chastising him for his slow work ethic. 

He’s quite aware at how creepy that makes him seem, but, today, he’s glad he’s taken to the rather odd habit, as he’s quick to pick up on the exhaustion laced in Jon’s tone. Frowning, Martin can almost pick apart each crack of Jon’s voice, and he rubs at his own neck with a frown when Jon stops more than once to clear his throat. 

Jon sounds, Martin thinks, rough, the edge of his voice sounds frayed thin, tired, and he’s suddenly moving far too quick when he drops his hand to the doorknob and throws the door open. 

He expects a yell, a curse even, as he’s heard so many times before, but Jon only briefly closes his eyes and sighs softly to himself. Martin takes that silent moment free of a verbal reprimand to study Jon’s drawn, sunken face with pink tinged cheeks and a red-rimmed nose. He moves his gaze further to Jon’s rumpled clothes that he knows, for a fact, Jon wore yesterday. 

“Martin,” Jon draws out at the same time Martin sputters, “did you go home last night?” 

“Excuse me?”

Jon’s eyes are open now, and behind the abundantly clear exhaustion, they are narrow, borderline dangerous, and Martin swallows thickly and absently clutches the folder tighter to his chest. 

“I just mean,” Martin stammers, “your clothes. You wore those yesterday.” His voices trails off at the end, and he finds a stack of folders on the ground to train his eyes to, unwilling to meet Jon’s pointed gaze. 

“Did you interrupt me to judge my attire, or did you-” Jon pauses to cough lightly into the back of his wrist, “-excuse me, or did you come to give me something?”

Martin drags his gaze up to see Jon gesturing toward the folder he’s got practically stapled to his chest, and he shakes his head quickly. 

“No, sorry, of course,” he sputters around each letter as he hands Jon the file folder. “Tim asked me to bring this to you.” 

“And he didn’t bring this himself because?” 

“He’s busy,” Martin lies quickly, offering brief, made up details about research regarding a rather complex statement Jon read through yesterday. 

“Right,” Jon mutters, already turning back to his tape recorder, eyes flicking briefly through the file, and Martin knows that’s his cue to leave, and he should leave because clearly Jon’s unwell, but it’s that notion alone that has Martin’s feet unable to move away from his spot. 

He stares, instead, at Jon, at the barely visible tremor jerking over the curves of Jon’s shoulders, or the way Jon absently brings the sleeve of his sweater up to his nose, sniffling quietly. His heart lurches and twists, and he’s so lost in the mere thought that Jon is very much unwell that he doesn’t hear Jon call his name more than once. 

“Martin, is that all?” 

Shaking his head clear of loud thoughts, Martin cocks his head to the side slightly, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?” He knows the answer, and he also knows the predictable, clipped reply that’s to come, but he asks anyway because he’s worried. 

“Of course I’m alright,” Jon snaps. “Close the door on your way out.” 

Martin does so despite the pit pushing in his stomach, and he starts quickly to Tim, finding him half-reading through something on his computer while Sasha chats idly with him. 

“Jon is sick.” He says, the words spilling quickly off his tongue. 

“I know,” Tim answers, arching one brow that Martin shakes his head at. 

“You said he was in a mood.”

“He is,” Tim responds easily, eyes falling back to the computer screen. “He’s always in a mood when he’s sick.” 

“Shouldn’t we try to send him home?”

“Wouldn’t do any good,” Sasha says. “Jon will-

“-only leave in a casket,” Tim finishes for her, and Martin can only huff, frustrated, as he slips back to his small office. 

He tries to get lost within his work, tries to chase the need to impress Jon, but worry is consuming him, twisting within the pit of his stomach, and he can’t keep his mind from drifting back to how poorly Jon looked. He wants badly to help, but he’s treading on thin ice as it is, and, as Tim said, Jon’s in quite the mood. 

Still, Martin can’t shake the need to do something. He leaves to the break room to make tea, Jon’s favorite tea, but he only knows that by pure coincidence. At least, that’s what he always tells himself. He avoids Tim and Sasha as he makes his way back to the archives, waiting patiently outside the door until he hears the familiar “Recording End.” 

He knocks this time, already wishing to make up for his abrupt entrance earlier, and he takes the distracted hum as an all clear to enter, pushing the door open slowly, frowning as he listens to the rather rough bout of coughing Jon’s struggling through. 

“Martin, how many times do you plan on interrupting me today?” Jon chokes out around a few ragged breaths, and Martin holds up the mug as a silent peace offering. 

“I made tea and accidentally grabbed the wrong tea bag,” he lies, setting the mug down on Jon’s desk. “Figured you might want it.” 

Jon only mutters a distracted “thanks” as he brings his attention to his next statement, but Martin doesn’t miss the way Jon’s hand smooths around the mug as if seeking warmth. 

Martin slips silently from the room, leaving his back pressed against the door as he listens to Jon roughly clear his throat before beginning his next recording. His head thumps softly against the door, eyes tipped up to the dusty ceiling light above him. He listens to the pained voice on the other side of the door, and though he knows he’s bound to bear witness to Jon’s wrath, he makes a silent vow to check on Jon once more before he leaves. 

Somehow, he manages to get work done, albeit very little work. It takes him twice as long to conduct his follow-up research, stopping twice when he spots Jon shuffle by, once headed to the break room with a familiar, empty mug. Martin couldn’t help but smile at that, though, he wished it were under better circumstances. 

Once it’s time to leave for the day, he practically leaps from his desk chair, only just remembering to lock his computer as he gathers his coat and heads toward the archives. He pauses before the door, only knocking when he’s sure by the silence on the other end that Jon’s not recording. 

He gives a courtesy knock, and the weak, muffled “come in” that comes after has Martin all but ripping the door open out of concern alone. 

Jon’s got his head resting atop his folded arms, his glasses resting on the table beside him. Martin can see him shaking, and when Jon finally lifts his head, as if the small movement is one of the hardest things he’s done, Martin can’t help but suck in a sharp breath. He’s got an entire speech about self-care curling to the tip of his tongue, mind only halting when Jon holds up a single hand. 

“Don’t,” Jon mutters, and Martin frowns, sympathy coloring his eyes. 

He opts for a softer approach. “I know I asked earlier, but are you alright, Jon? You really don’t look well.” 

Jon tilts back in his chair and presses the back of his hand to his cheek. Martin can only imagine the fever heat, and he has to bite back the urge to feel for himself. 

“I...” Jon sighs around a few coughs. “I will be,” he opts for, and if Martin wasn’t so worried for Jon, he would fall flat on his ass at the sheer transparency of Jon’s tone, at the admittance, the lack of heated argument. 

“Elias has already graced me with quite the lecture,” he adds, voice thick with congestion, sounding impossibly deep, something Martin takes quick note of. “I’m to leave on time and rest until I’m well enough to return.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” Martin mutters quietly, feeling almost relieved at the sharp glare shot toward him. 

The two fall into an awkward silence, one Martin usually flees from for his own heart’s sake, but he can’t, once again, quite get his muscles to move. He clears his throat, stumbles over a few words. “I should... I’ll be going now. Please let me know if you need anything.” He didn’t plan on adding that last bit, it just slipped off his tongue, almost naturally, and he swallows harshly, biting back his nerves as Jon bids him a quaint “bye” as if he hadn’t heard anything Martin said. 

Martin forces himself to turn and leave, pausing for a moment, eyes casting down to his coat folded in his arms. He turns back quietly, ignoring the studying gaze locked to his every move as drapes his coat over the back of the chair before wordlessly leaving the archives and starting the trek home, feeling cold in the chilly wind, but cold without regret. 

He’s surprised when he wakes the next morning to an email on his phone from Elias stating that Jon will be out sick for the next few days and no one is to bother him for any reason. Yet, he’s even more surprised when he arrives to work an hour later to see that Jon is, in fact, not in, being as he’s notable for bypassing Elias’s orders on more than one occasion. 

He greets Tim and Sasha as he starts toward his office, brows furrowing as both point out the absence of his coat with questionable smiles. Shaking his head, he ignores them, only shrugging at them as he enters his office, dropping his bag to the floor and sinking in his chair. He goes to shake his computer mouse, hand freezing as his eyes catch sight of a sticky note stuck to his monitor. 

“Thank you for the coat. It’s... very warm. I will have it dry cleaned before I return it-- Jon.”

Martin’s cheeks flush a faint pink as his eyes follow the curve of each letter, and he smooths his hand over the sticky note before plucking it off his monitor and slipping it into a desk drawer, happy that, though not a lot, he was able to help Jon in some way. 

[starksvixen]

Falling For A Maybank

Summary: Based on the song Falling In Love x Night Troubles.

Requested: No.

Warnings: Underage Drinking, Language, Underage Smoking, Some Angst

Well now really when we go back into falling in love. And say, it's crazy.

“Madam,” JJ says, his hand reaching out to gently grasp onto yours.

He gently lifts you onto John B’s boat from the docks, the cheekiest grin etched onto his tanned face. It’s infectious, causing you to mimic that same grin as you put down the cooler in your hand.

“Thank you, my good sir,” you reply, giggling softly as you handed him a beer.

“Ooo, my favourite,”

His fingers tickle yours as he gently takes the beer from you, goosebumps travelling up your arm at a rapid rate. But you shake it off, taking a step back from him as your smile slightly disappears. It was a trap to like him, the guy with a new girl in his bed every night. 

“So? Where are we off to today?” you ask to no one in particular.

“Probably just back to the marshes, after that hurricane last night there is surely more fish ripe for the fishing,” John B replies as he drives off into the water. 

Softly, you nod, pulling a beer out of the same cooler that rocks against the boat’s floor. As soon as the top meets your lips, almost half of it’s contents disappeared within a few minutes. Maybe under the influence you could calm your nerves, finally enjoy yourself for the first time in weeks. 

As soon as your butt hits the seat beside Kie, a knowing eyebrow of hers raises up to meet her hairline. 

“Oh, god, Kie, not again,” you mumble quiet enough for only her to hear. 

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” she whisper yells. “There is obviously something between you two.”

You take another long sip from your beer bottle, trying to avoid looking straight but you do. His eyes meet yours, that classic grin returning at the sight of you. Instead of returning the smile, you quickly turn away, swallowing the bitter liquid down hard. 

“No, no it’s crazy,” you reply softly. 

Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall.

You both were walking on the beach where the water meets the sand. It had been a long night at a graveyard party. Watching JJ constantly flirt from girl to girl didn’t hurt any less then it did before. How you ended up walking down the beach, only the moon’s light cascading across your faces, you still didn’t know. 

“(Y/N), it’s a brilliant idea!” he exclaims as he chuckles. “We just need a fuck ton of weed and paper.” 

“And probably an ambulance from overdosing,” you giggle softly.

“No such thing,”

“You will be the first person to make it happen, JJ, I can see it now,” 

“I feel high all the time, (Y/N/N),"

Your heat flutters at his special nickname for you, forcing your gaze down at your feet to hide your warm blush against the cool light. 

“Well I can’t doubt that, now can I?” 

Both of you fall back into a fit of laughter. Before you know it, you’re in front of the small shack you call home. None of the lights were on since your family had already retired to bed. You stop by your door, gently twisting the doorknob to open the door. Once you look up however, you’re met with bright blue eyes and long blonde hair tickling the tip of your nose. 

If your heart could fly into space it would. You willed your feet to move backwards but they never did. Instead, you were frozen, looking into the eyes that brought you warmth, the hair your fingers had been tangled in many times. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N/N),” he whispers softly, kissing your forehead before disappearing down your street. 

You could deny it all you want, but deep down you knew. You had risen into love. 

And it goes back, as a matter of fact, to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life.

You couldn’t take it anymore, constantly watching him flirt with other girls, having to help them find their clothes strewn across the Chateau the next day. You just couldn’t take it. 

So, you withdrew. No longer were you on their boating trips. No longer did you show up to boneyard parties. Everyone would text you, wondering where you were. All of them get a response, except for him. 

It angered him. All of the Pogues tried to comfort him, saying that she must have texted them all on accident. But he saw right through it. You were ignoring him, and he didn’t know why. He has to know why. 

Without the other Pogues knowing, he snuck away and was on his way to your house when he passed the park you played at when you were kids. When he first fell in love with you. A bunch of boys had ganged up on you. Despite the beating he got, the boys left you alone from that day on. You took him home, cleaned up his wounds, both from the boys and his dad, and promised that you would be quiet as long as you two stayed friends. It had started back at the fundamental things.

JJ knocks lightly against your window, a frown forming when he notices that you aren’t drawing the blinds for him like you usually do. He knocks again, and again, until you open the blinds and lift the window out of pure annoyance. 

“What do you want, JJ?” you mumble under your breath.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

“I’m not ignoring you! I just need to be alone,”

“Alone from me?” 

“Yes from you!” 

You look at him with tears falling down your face. The sight of it almost sends JJ into tears himself. 

“Fine, then, I’ll leave you too it,”

And with a harsh sigh, he jumped off your window and was gone. 

You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble. 

You had recently come back to the group, pretending like nothing was wrong. But JJ knew something was, however after that day in your room he refused to speak with you. Kie had talked with you many times, to just take the leap already and tell him. And you promised you would...

The moment you take a step, you do so on an act of faith because you don't really know that the floor's not going to give under your feet. 

You, Pope, and JJ had infiltrated the Midsummer Ball for the Kooks with ease, posing as waiters for all those who couldn’t see over their nose to get it themself. Your eyes couldn’t stay off of JJ the entire night. It became too overwhelming once JJ had returned from giving the note to Sarah. Without a second thought, you pull him close to you by the collars of his jacket, and you kiss him.

The moment you take a journey, what an act of faith. The moment that you enter into any kind of human undertaking in relationship, what an act of faith. See, you've given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done: surrender. See. And love is an act of surrender to another person. Total abandonment. I give myself to you. Take me. Do anything you like with me.

Without a second in between, JJ kisses you back and his arms hold your frame against his tightly. Once both of you come up for air, uncontrollable smiles grace both of your faces. 

“JJ! (Y/N)! We gotta go!” Pope yells as the Pogues make their escape. 

JJ runs after them with his hand around yours while you follow. Both of you grin ear to ear as you run towards the van. Without a second thought, JJ lifts you up by your hips and gets you into the van, sliding in right beside you. Once he was in beside you, he lifts you onto his lap, kissing you once more as your hands frame his face, kissing him back urgently. 

“Fuckin’ finally!” Pope yells at you, causing both of you to break apart and glare at him.

“Just keep the PDA down why don’t ya?” Kie replies to Pope. 

In response, you two kiss once more, making sure to add a moan or two in there to make your point. 

[sunny-flower-girl-01]

Ohana- A Hawaii Five-0 Fanfic Chapter Six

First, I just have to say I'm SO SO SO SO SORRY for how long it took to get this chapter up. I had work, Halloween, 3 birthdays (including my own) and I had to move classrooms, which I am just now settling into. I've always had time to write at work and at home, but this past month just hasn't been cooperating with me. I know this one is short, but I've been dying to make an update, so you guys don't think I've completely abandoned you, because I didn't!

I know this chapter is short a maybe a little boring, but the next chapter is underway, and I hope to have it up by next weekend before I go on my trip.

Thank you guys so much again!

Following Day

Steve McGarrett's House

Steve’s POV:

I dropped my keys on the table as I walked through the front door. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I went into the kitchen to see Danny drinking coffee and making pancakes. I saw his car in the driveway when I pulled in, so I knew he was here.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Danno? I thought you and Kari would be having breakfast this morning. Not that I’m complaining, pancakes look good.” I said as I poured myself a cup of coffee and pulled the butter out of the fridge.

“Yeah well you aren’t going to get any if you keep putting butter in your damn coffee.” He said. I could tell he was pissed off. I stayed silent for a moment to see if he’d continue.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

He sighed and flipped a pancake. “I broke up with Kari.”

“Oh... I’m sorry man.” I leaned back against the counter and watched him work. “Again, not that I’m complaining, but why are you here and not at your place?”

“Better question, why weren’t you here when I got here?” He shot me a look. I rolled my eyes. Truth was, after Thea got off the phone with Nora, she and I fell asleep on her couch. We stayed up for a while and talked about nothing in particular. She told me some stories from her childhood, and I told her about my time in the Navy, whatever I was able to tell her. We agreed last night that we need to take this thing between us at a slow pace. We’re about to become parents so we need to be careful with how we do this. I shrugged my shoulders.

“I was with Thea last night.” I said simply and took a drink of my coffee. I moved to grab some pancakes when Danny lifted the plate and moved it out of arm's reach for me.

“You were where?”

“I was with Thea, okay? She got some bad news and needed someone to talk to so I went over and we fell asleep on the couch. Now give me a damn pancake.”

“All you did was sleep?” He asked.

“Yes, dammit. Give me the plate.” I said, leaning over the kitchen island to grab the plate from him.

He shook his head and set the plate down. He turned back to the stove to put more batter in the pan. “Don’t eat all of them. Rachel is dropping Grace off here in a bit when they get done looking at apartments with Thea.”

I nodded and made myself a plate. “Rachel’s been pretty generous with your time with Grace recently. Anything up with that?”

He shrugged and flipped the pancakes. “I don’t know. She hasn’t been fighting with me at all recently. I’m starting to think her and Stan are planning on moving again. They acted just like this before she told me she was moving my daughter across a whole country.”

“She can’t move her again. This is Grace’s home and your home, no matter how much you hate it here.” I said. Despite Danny’s feelings about the state of Hawaii, I knew he could never leave the family that he has found here with Five-0. It would never be the same without Danny or Grace.

Danny turned around and opened his mouth to say something. I knew exactly what he was about to say, so I beat him to it.

“I know, Danno. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

About an hour later, after I had gone on my swim and my run, Grace was dropped off and was trying to convince me and Danny we needed to go to Kamekona’s.

“Monkey, you just had breakfast an hour ago, let’s wait a little bit.” Danny explained. He and I were sitting on the couch watching a football game. Mostly it was me trying to pay attention to the game while Danny made comments and yelled at the tv the whole time. Grace was up at the table coloring. This was a normal Saturday routine for us. Sometimes Grace was here, sometimes she wasn’t. Other times the rest of the team joined us. After the crazy week we’ve had a work with the murder case we’re been on for a while, it’s nice to be able to sit down and relax.

“Thea asked me about Ty’s case. I feel bad not being able to tell her anything.” I said, taking a swig of my beer.

“Well you’ve got to know something to be able to tell her.” Danny said, glancing up at Grace who was in her own little world coloring. “This is the 3rd drowning victim found at that dock. All showing the same signs of a struggle, once we’re able to pinpoint where the bodies came before they washed up, it’ll narrow down the search. We’ll find them Steve.”

I nodded, turning back to the TV. “Yeah, yeah I know. I just don’t want there to be another body before we're able to get a lead.”

Danny’s phone started to ring from the kitchen. Grace got up and dashed to the other room. “I got it, I got it!”

Danny rolled his eyes. We both knew it wasn’t going to be work, they would have called me first. “I swear if it’s Rachel telling me she’s gonna pick her up soon, I might actually throw myself into the ocean.”

“You realize most people would actually enjoy that right?”

“Shut up.”

“Danno, it’s Auntie Thea.” Grace said, coming into the living room and holding the phone out to Danny. Danny and I gave each other a weird look. Why would she be calling Danny?

“Any arguments I need to know about?” Danny asked as he took the phone from Grace. I rolled my eyes and swatted his arm, trying to leave a mark.

“Answer the damn phone.” I said.

Thea’s POV:

“Why do we have to move?” Nora asked me for the 10th time this morning. I’ve had this conversation with her about 5 times in the last week. She doesn’t want to move from our little apartment, the only home she’s ever had. I’ve lived there since I left my mother’s house when I was 18. When Nora was born, she lived with my mother for about 3 weeks, then I moved her in with me. Since I was the only one taking care of her, it made more sense to have her with me instead of me traveling back and forth every day. Julia, my mother, never objected to it. She had Nora’s things packed up and waiting for me when I told her I was coming to get her. The next time I saw her was at her funeral a few months later.

“Because sweetie, our place is too small for two more babies, so we need to find a bigger place to fit everyone.” I said, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror. She was leaning back in her booster seat, staring out the window. She turned her head and looked at me in the mirror.

“Is Steve going to live with us?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but quickly closed it when I didn’t have anything to say. Steve and I had never really talked about what was going to happen after I had the twins. He would want to be close to them, right? Where would they stay? You couldn’t move newborn's back and forth like that could you? Why did it take my 7-year-old to make me realize these things?

“Uhm, I don’t know babe. I’ll have to talk to Steve about it.” I left it at that. I really did need to have a conversation with Steve about it. After last night, I feel better about sitting down and having this conversation with him. It was obvious that we both wanted to spend more time together, so finding a schedule that worked for all of us wouldn’t be too difficult.

“Since he’s going to be the new baby's daddy, does that mean he’s going to be-” She was cut off by my cell phone ringing. I quickly answered it, knowing full well what Nora’s question was about to be, but I didn’t have it in me to answer it right now.

I glanced down quickly to see it was Rachel before I held it up to my ear.

“Hey Rach, what’s up?” There was no response on the other end of the line, just some shuffling around and a loud banging sound. “Hello, Rachel? Can you hear me?” I asked again. This time, I heard what sounded like Stan off in the distance on the other end of the line.

“Open the fucking door Rachel, before I break it down?”

My eyes widened and I quickly tried to get Rachel’s attention. “Rachel! Hello! Can you hear me? Rachel, answer the phone!”

I heard Rachel call out and scream before the line went dead. Thankfully, I was at a red light and quickly calledDanny.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Nora asked. Me yelling at the phone probably scared her.

I looked back at her. “It’s fine baby, I just got to call Danny okay?” I turned down another street when I finally heard him answer.

“Hey Thea, what’s up? You know I think you hurt Steve’s feelings calling me instead of him.” He joked.

“Danny, something’s wrong over at Rachel’s house. I think Stan hurt her.”

Danny was silent for a moment. “What do you mean?” The joking tone in his voice was gone.

“She called me, I don’t know if it was on accident or on purpose. I could hear a lot of noise and Stan telling her he was going to break a door down. She was screaming but the phone hung up before I could get her to hear me.” I remembered suddenly that Rachel hadn’t told him about the divorce or the reason she was divorcing him. I knew Stan was angry, but I never thought that he would act like this towards her.

“Thea, where are you?” He asked. I could hear Steve asking him in the background what was going on. “Nora and I were on our way to Kamekona’s.” I was trying to pay attention to the road and talk on the phone.

“How close are you to Steve’s place? I have Grace over here and I don’t want to bring her.” I pulled up to the next light and made a U-turn.

“I’m just a few blocks away.” I said. He hung up and I put my phone down on the passenger seat.

“Nora, we’re going to go hang out with Grace at Steve’s for a while. Maybe I can call Kamekona and have him bring us some food. How about that?” I asked her. The nervous look on her face broke my heart.

“But is Auntie Rachel going to be okay?”

I tried my best to give her a small smile in the rear-view mirror.

“I hope so sweet pea, I hope so.”

[matsumi101]

For the promts, maybe 367 with Maria Reynolds, modern au?

367. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you”

Notes:

> Reader x Maria Reynolds Modern AU

> Anon i love u for this do u know how giddy i am when i wrote the last part hnngh

> Fem!Reader I hope u guys don’t mind some (not so) wholesome lesbeans

> WIFI ANG GOOGLE DOCS HAS BEEN AN ASS IVE BEEN TRYING TO FIX THE ONESHOT BC IT KEPT GETTING PASTED OUT OF ORDER HNNGH

Type: fluff

Warnings: domestic abuse mention, implied sex

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

“Your Honor, the members of the jury find the defendant... guilty.”

You gave a low whistle while the Judge gave the final words, putting up a hand to return your co-counsel’s high-five without even having to look at him. Your smug grin never left your face even after the court was adjourned, only breaking into a more hyper celebration once you were out of the building.

“Fuck yeah, we deserve to celebrate!”

You laughed in agreement. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without you, Alex,” you sighed. Alexander simpered, taking the compliment very well. “Well, what can I say? I’m always up for the challenging ones.” He shrugged his shoulders, pride oozing out of his presence. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were an excellent public attorney par with even Alexander Hamilton himself, but this case had you on your toes for months, even with Alexander’s help, and the outcome was well worth the sleepless nights you shared with your friend.

The topic returned to the celebration. “We should invite everyone to me and Eliza’s place and throw a party because damn we deserve it,” Alexander suggested. You hummed thoughtfully at his offer for a bit before responding. “I’d love that, but can we move that a little later? I wanna celebrate alone with Maria, first,” you pointed out. Alexander pulled an all too knowing smirk, to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I haven’t given her much attention ever since this case came, and I’m sure Eliza’s in the same situation. Our own partners deserve to be pampered after all of this, don’t you think?”

“My Eliza’s fine-”

“Hamilton.”

You crossed your arms and raised a brow at your friend. “Let Eliza share the victory with you, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to listen about how your hard work paid off,” you reasoned out. “And besides, it’s the closest I’ll get to apologizing for stealing you away from her for months.” Alexander laughed at that, getting your point. He pulled out his phone, most likely to share the great news to his fiancé.

“Let’s have the big celebration next weekend, yeah?”

You could tell from the eagerness in his voice that he was excited to come home and spend time with Eliza. “Perfect,” you agreed. You were about to bid farewell, but Alexander was already in call with Eliza and chatting away with unprecedented joy. You chuckled at him and went to your car, dialing a number while you started the engine. It rang a few times before it was picked up.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Washington! Is Maria Reynolds still at work?”

“Oh, Miss Y/N! It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.”

You smiled at this. Martha had always been a caring boss, which is why you recommended Maria to her business when she was looking for a new job. You placed your phone on the holder at the dashboard and set it to speaker while you pulled out of the parking lot. “Maria’s still here, why’d you ask?” Martha asked sweetly. Your smile grew into a more excited one, your plans already playing out in your mind.

“Well you see, I plan to surprise her tonight with her favorite food because I won what probably is my biggest case to date.” Martha gasped and gave you a quick congratulations. “But I still have to buy the things I need. Can you stall her for me? I just need an extra two hours.”

There was a thoughtful pause at the other end of the line. You took your eyes off the road for a split second to check if the call was still ongoing, which it was. “Dear, as romantic as your plan sounds, I don’t think Maria would like being cooped up here for so long,” Martha sighed. “She’s been stressed for the past months, and I don’t think she’s taking your disappearance so well lately, to top off the work she needs to finish today...” Your heart sank at the information. Yes, you were more than aware that you’d been neglecting Maria over the case, more than you’d like, and even if she was understanding enough that you needed to prioritize your slowly rising career, you knew there were unavoidable insecurities that followed her wake.

“I’m going to make it up to her,” you replied, voice steady. “I’m going to smother her with attention for the weeks to come ‘til she gets sick of me.”

Martha laughed heartily at your determination. “So please, can you help me out and give me two hours? I promise It’ll all be worth it,” you pleaded. It didn’t take as long for Martha to answer. “Okay, but I want to see Maria coming to work next Tuesday with an honest smile. I miss seeing her so positive.” You beamed gratefully, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re giving her a long weekend off?” you asked almost too happily.

“Aside from letting her spend time with her favorite woman, I’m sure she deserves the rest for working so hard the past months.”

“Oh Martha, thank you so much! I owe you a lot.”

Any semblance of formalities melted away. “Oh dear, you know I’m a sucker for romantic gestures! I’ll make sure she tells me everything about your night when she gets back to work,” she teased. You giggled, excitement crawling up your body by the minute. You ended the call and finished your groceries as fast as you could, and by the time you got back to your shared apartment the sun was just starting to set. Perfect, you thought. You had more time than anticipated, but you were sure to utilize every second and got to work.

After a dragging day at work, Maria finally found her way back home. She was stuck in the office for a good two hours past her supposed time out due to Martha’s unexpected request to finish some extra paperwork. She would’ve declined it, but the offer of getting a paid day off in return was too good to miss out that even an extra hour long traffic didn’t stop her. She was far too exhausted, both mental and physical, to think of anything else but to crash into the soft sheets of her bed despite her empty stomach begging to be filled up. When she got to her apartment’s door, however, she couldn’t help but stop and look at it.

She didn’t know that today was the day you’d bring the case to the court one last time for a verdict, so all she expected was to come home to an empty apartment, and despite everything still in the same place it felt more barren the past few months. And yet, as she unlocked the door and flicked the lights on, she was greeted with not only a noticeably cleaner living room but also a delectable smell wafting through her nose. It caused her stomach to growl again, and with the new smell filling the place she dropped her bag and headed to the kitchen.

“You’re home!”

Maria’s eyes popped out at the sight. There you were in your sweatpants and loose shirt, sitting across the table with your hand resting atop your intertwined fingers. A large grin splayed across your face, which grew even wider at the sight of her. The table was set up with two plates, a bottle of wine and whiskey (a strange combo, Maria thought), about three dishes, and a bowl of soup accompanied by a smaller bowl of croutons. The food before her was definitely made presentable, and if Maria wasn’t too occupied gawking (and maybe drooling a little) she would’ve pointed out how your outfit didn’t even match up to the setting.

“We won the case,” you told her, your voice laced with softness and excitement.

Maria had to compose herself just enough to answer. “Really?” she squeaked out. She was happy beyond words, both for your success and you finally being there to greet her home for once and having done this seemingly large dinner after months of surviving on leftovers in the fridge and take-outs. You nodded, watching her expression with a smile, but it quickly dropped when you saw her starting to cry. Alarmed, you got off your seat and pulled her to a tight embrace, to which she eagerly returned, taking in the faint scent of the soap you used for your bath. You planted a long kiss on the crown of her head, and the gesture only seemed to make her cry more.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

And there she poured everything out. She missed coming home to your arms every night, but ever since the case you were always either gone in the office at work or holed up in the one at home. The thought made her disappointed, and maybe with a twinge of anger and paranoia, but she had to hold it back. She knew how much work meant to you, and she admired how passionate you were for it. She tried her best not to think too much of it, but the fear of you growing cold towards her scared her to no end, admitting that the effects of her past relationship with James was still affecting her.

You didn’t speak the whole time and let Maria vent it out until she reduced into quiet sobs. You kissed her forehead before pulling away from the hug so you could meet her eye to eye. “I know I’ve been so busy, which is why I’m going to make up for it,” you whispered soothingly. You cupped her face and gently wiped the tears away with your thumbs, and you could see a smile slowly grace her lips that made your heart melt. You then peppered her with short, sweet kisses all over her face, which made her giggle and squirm.

“I missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, but I’m not going to let you have dinner with such an uncomfortable outfit.”

Maria followed your eyes to her office attire. “I drew you a hot bath just a few minutes ago, with lots of lavender from our mini garden,” you told her softly, pulling her by the waist and kissing her cheek. Gosh, you missed her so much. Maria sighed as you nuzzled your face on the crook of her neck, already imagining the beautiful smell of the bathroom awaiting her. Unfortunately, she had to pull away from the hug so she could actually get there.

After Maria took her time in a relaxing bath and changed to her own comfortable clothes, you two spent the night together, savoring the full course dinner you made with both of your favorite foods and hers, then surprising her with strawberry mousse, her favorite, for dessert. After that, and an empty bottle of wine, you two went to the couch to cuddle and watch a movie together. Though the film on the television was soon forgotten when you kept on showering Maria with kisses and compliments. Even if she asked you to stop since she genuinely wanted to watch the movie, you only replied to her with,

“Nah, I’m going to spoil you the whole weekend, and for the following weeks to come.”

And you did just that. Your attention was all on Maria day and night, and her heart could never feel so full at the sight of you. You took care of her and she took care of you, too. Of course you respected her boundaries and remained gentle with how you held her, but she knew that with you she was safe. Her initial fears of abandonment were soon thrown out the window. Maria trusted you more than ever, and you made sure to show her that she would never regret that choice.

Maria sighed wistfully, stroking your hair as she stared at the wall. The heavy drapes were drawn shut, preventing the moonlight from entering the dark bedroom. You were nestled on her bare chest, sleeping soundly while you had your arms wrapped protectively around her waist. A smile adorned your lips, and Maria took notice of it when she looked down at you.

You were at peace, contrast to the tired and frustrated expression you constantly seemed to wear while you were working the past months. Your breaths were slow and relaxed, making Maria hold a smile of her own as she studied your features. She brought a hand to your face, and you subconsciously leaned against her touch. She caressed your cheek with a thumb, her gaze trailing over to the bags under your eyes. Without your makeup, it looked much worse, but Maria didn’t care. She loved everything about you, even those eyebags that carried all the success you worked for, and she never felt luckier for having such a caring and passionate girlfriend as you.

“Oh Y/N,” Maria sighed for the nth time that night. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you.”

You barely stifled your amused chuckle, making Maria jump slightly at the vibration. “I’m glad to be the one to make you realize that,” you murmured, opening your eyes and ignoring the noise of surprise that she made when you let it be known that you were still awake. You shifted so that you could fully look at Maria. It was dark, but you could still make out her wide eyes that slowly softened. Her hand was still pressed to your face, so you put your own on top of it and moved to gently kiss her palm.

“And you deserve every bit of love, sweetheart.”

The way you said it so sincerely just made Maria absolutely melt, even more so when you pulled up to give her a long, tender kiss. Her hands wandered you, fingers trailing the marks she left on your skin before a hand made its way to your bare back while the other tangled on your already messy hair. When you backed away to breathe, you gave Maria one last peck on the lips before lying on her side and pulling her close.

“You know babe, seeing you like this makes me want to look forward to more of your difficult cases.” Maria laughed when you tiredly groaned in annoyance.

“No. If the next one is anything like the last I’m shoving it to either Alexander or Jefferson. I missed you too much.”

[keichanz]

Resolution

A bonus Spooktober chapter, following a few days after the events of Possession.

Inuyasha was sitting at his desk, trying quite unsuccessfully to get some work done with his mind so preoccupied with a certain silver-haired teenage daughter of his, when he heard the side door slam shut and footsteps stomping across the house toward his office. He froze and tensed in his chair just as her familiar scent, tinged with the bitterness of anger, drifted into the room and he turned his head just as the girl in question arrived at his door.

Standing in the doorway to his office, body stiff, fists clenched, and face screwed up into a fierce scowl, Izayoi silently glared at her father. Her little chest was heaving and she was practically trembling with the intensity of her emotions, ears pinned against her head and teeth clenched tightly.

Inuyasha regarded her mutely for a few seconds more before wordlessly saving his work on the computer, removing his reading glasses, and setting them on the desk before swiveling in his chair to face her fully. Leaning forward he propped his elbows on his knees and gave her his undivided attention, patiently waiting for her to begin.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“I didn’t want to come home after school,” she started in a soft hiss. “I wanted to go to the store with Rai like we originally planned, because I’m still mad at you, and maybe even have a little bit of fun so I wouldn’t be having such a crappy birthday, but do you know who convinced me to come home instead?”

Inuyasha tightened his jaw and forced himself to remain silent, knowing his daughter needed this.

“Raiden did,” she supplied and her father’s eyes rounded slightly in surprise. “Yes. That Raiden. And do you know why? Because he didn’t want my relationship with my dad to suffer just because said dad is a big jerkface, because that’s the type of person Rai is!”

Her dad flinched and still said nothing.

“I like this boy, Dad,” Izayoi continued fiercely and hated the way her voice caught in her throat. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears but she continued, determined to say this now that she’d started.

“A lot, and by some miracle I think he likes me back, and you humiliated me in front of him and I was terrified he was never gonna talk to me again, but he did because he’s a good person.”

Izayoi couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they streamed down her face, blurring her vision, but she forged on, roughly dashing a hand cross her eyes. She knew her dad hated it when she cried, but right now she couldn’t find the strength to care, and it wasn’t like she could help it anyway. She’d been teetering on the edge all day, her emotions throughout the day having been so strung tight and frayed it was amazing she’d held out as long as she had. It felt good to release some of the pressure that had built up and so she continued, her words heated, her voice passionate.

“He genuinely cares about me and he feels guilty about what happened Friday even though he’s not even in the wrong here. Raiden is nothing like Daisuke, and in fact he saved me from Dai today, but that’s not the point.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and once more fixed him with a stern look. “I am thirteen years old now, Dad. You can’t protect me forever and I don’t want you to.”

Her father winced but she forced herself to go on, her tears running unchecked and her breathing becoming a little uneven. It was getting harder to push words out, but she couldn’t stop now despite the sudden, savage urge to throw herself into her father’s arms and let him take away the pain like he used to when she was little.

“I’m not that little girl anymore,” she rasped and try as she might she could not hold back the sob that erupted for her throat. “I know you just want to keep me from getting hurt, but you have to realize that you can’t—you can’t shelter me from everything and—and I just—it’s not f-fair and I want—”

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around her shaking frame and with a sob Izayoi collapsed into her father’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and weeping into his shoulder as he gathered her close to him and held her as she cried. She clung to his shirt as he rubbed her back and murmured gently to her, nuzzling her head and allowing this desperately needed relief.

“I’m still m-mad at you-u-u,” Izayoi managed through her sobs, taking deep breaths to try and calm herself down. It wasn’t really working.

“I know,” Inuyasha replied with a hint of a smile, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around her. “You can be mad at me all you want. Your big jerkface of a dad deserves it.”

Izayoi made a sound that might have been a choked laugh but he couldn’t be sure so he just continued to hold her, rocking her gently in his arms, rubbing her back and growling soothingly in an attempt to help calm her down. She hadn’t let him come near her the entire weekend, and he relished having his little girl in his arms again, her scent in his nose, infinitely glad that she was finally giving him a chance to atone for his stupidity. He knew it stemmed from the fear of her growing up too fast. She was suddenly liking boys, and having a social life, and Inuyasha realized that as much as he wanted time to slow down, he knew he couldn’t and he had to come to terms with the fact that his little girl wasn’t so little anymore. Hell, she nearly reached Kagome’s shoulders; a few more years and she’d be taller than her, Inuyasha was sure.

With a shaky sigh, Izayoi moved to pull away and Inuyasha reluctantly loosened his grip, but didn’t remove his arms from her. He knelt there as she pulled herself together, wiping at her eyes, sniffling and regulating her breathing as he contented himself with rubbing a downy ear, waiting patiently.

She dropped her hands and blinked bright amber eyes at her father before offering a tentative, trembling smile. Inuyasha quirked a grin back and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Both of their ears flicked when the ring of the doorbell suddenly echoed throughout the house, but it went ignored.

“I’m sorry,” he said and then added with a sigh, “And you’re right. I know you’re not a little girl anymore, Iz, but you’ll always be my little girl, whether you like it or not, so I’ll offer you a deal. You do your old man a solid and try to be patient while I try and deal with you growing up faster than I can keep up with, and I’ll do my best to give you your space and understand that there are some things I can’t control. I’m sure it won’t be easy, but if it’ll avoid shitstorms like this in the future, I’m willing to try.”

Inuyasha aimed another crooked grin at her and nuzzled his nose with hers. “So whaddaya say? Yay or nay?”

He was finally grace with one of her beautiful smiles she got from her mother and nodded, eyes identical to his own brightening and showing more than a little bit of relief.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Deal. I love you, Daddy.” Izayoi pulled him in for another hug, her arms going around his neck and Inuyasha felt his chest tighten as he returned the embrace.

Ridiculously he felt his eyes grow hot as he rasped, “Love you too, babygirl,” and kissed her cheek.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome appeared in the doorway and smiled down at her husband and daughter. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Inuyasha sighed and reluctantly pulled away, dropping another kiss to his daughter’s head before standing up and going to see who was at the door. Izayoi sniffled and rubbed at her cheeks, accepting her mother’s hug when Kagome wrapped her up in her arms.

He’d already caught the familiar scent drifting down the hallway so when Inuyasha reached the foyer he wasn’t surprised to find their visitor standing there before the doorway, hands in his pockets and looking a little uncomfortable. To his credit, however, he didn’t look away from the half-demon’s gaze as he stopped a little ways before him, arms crossed and his posture lacking any of the hostility he’d had from their last meeting.

He heard footsteps approaching behind him then Izayoi’s soft gasp as she realized who it was but he didn’t glance at her and kept his expression a neutral mask of indifference. He had a feeling he knew what this was about, and he had to admit, he liked the kid’s tenacity.

Trying not to fidget where he stood, Raiden spared a brief glance Izayoi’s way to toss her a quick reassuring grin before turning his attention to the taller figure beside her. He cleared his throat, gathered his nerve, and sucked in a deep breath before starting what he came here to do.

“Mr. Taisho,” he began politely and bowed to both him and Izayoi’s mother who stood just behind her husband with a friendly smile. “Mrs. Taisho. I’m, uh, I’m sorry for coming unexpectedly, but I wanted to clear the air a little because of how things went on Friday. If that’s okay.”

Izayoi smiled while her father nodded his head to continue.

“Look,” Raiden began a little awkwardly, grimacing as he rubbed the back of his neck and dropped his gaze. “I just wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed that your daughter was free to go out with a complete stranger that you’d never before, and I should have asked first if it was alright if I can spend time with her. Izayoi told me what happened between you guys and I just—I feel bad.”

Actually he’d heard it from Rin, who was the school’s biggest gossip and also cousin to the girl he was interested in, but he doubted it was a good idea to mention their family drama is being broadcasted all over school by his niece. Judging by Izayoi’s grateful look, he’d made the right call.

Giving up on remaining stoic – he’d never been very good at hiding his emotions anyway – Inuyasha sighed heavily and then grimaced. He caught Kagome’s gaze, who shrugged and then nodded, and the half-demon grumbled slightly before turning back toward the boy.

“Actually,” he rumbled, frowning as he glanced at his daughter who had yet to take her gaze off of the younger dog demon. “She is.”

Raiden blinked and frowned a little. “She is...?”

He sighed again and reluctantly admitted, “She’s free to go out with who she wants without our permission. Iz has a good judge of character and I know she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. Just ask Daisuke,” he added in a mumble.

Raiden heard it anyway and perked up a little, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You mean how she broke his nose, right?” At Inuyasha’s surprised look, he shrugged. “I overheard her talking to him while he was harassing her at school today and she asked him if he wanted her to break it again. He certainly deserved it for being a dick,” he said bluntly, unapologetic.

While Izayoi groaned softly and covered her red face with her hands, Inuyasha was thinking that maybe this boy wasn’t so bad if he was of the same mind of that brat that he was. And hadn’t Iz said something about him saving her from Daisuke or something? So he’d stepped in when his girl was in trouble. So to took action and didn’t hesitate to protect her. Definitely admirable.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome said suddenly, drawing both of their attention as she stepped forward and put a hand on her husband’s shoulder with an encouraging smile. “Don’t you have something you need to say to Raiden, too?”

While Raiden looked confused and Izayoi was lookin back and forth between them, Inuyasha rolled his eyes and dragged a hand down his face, knowing his wife was right, but still not liking the thought of admitting he was wrong.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled at Kagome’s gentle reminder and faced the boy standing before him. “Raiden, was it?” he asked, and the brat—er, kid nodded. “I’m sorry too. For, uh, acting like an asshole Friday and threatening you and shit.”

The boy nodded again and looked relieved. “It’s cool. You just wanna protect your daughter, right? I get that.” Then he smiled and said, “I wanna protect her, too.”

Kagome gasped and put a hand over her heart while Izayoi flushed deeply, infinitely pleased, and Inuyasha struggled to not pick his girl up and whisk her away.

So instead he grunted, looked down at the girl in question and asked resignedly, “You said something about going to the store.”

Izayoi blinked then her eyes widened and a small, hopeful smile curled her lips upward. She nodded and Inuyasha sighed—again—before looking at Raiden.

The kid met his gaze, unwavering, and satisfied, Inuyasha rumbled, “Have her back by seven. It’s still a school night even if I don’t wanna scare you off anymore.”

“Inuyasha,” Kagome chastised, nudging his ribs, and he grunted, unrepentant. It was true, dammit.

Raiden visibly brightened while Izayoi wasted no time in fetching her jacket and hurriedly shrugging it on.

“Yes, sir,” he answered and bowed respectfully.  “I promise to have her back not even a second later. Thank you, Mr. Taisho. For giving me a chance.”

Inuyasha pulled a face. “Don’t make me regret,” he grumbled called out as his daughter passed him on the way to the door, “Izayoi.”

She paused and looked over her shoulder, a mite impatiently, then sighed when he gestured her over to him. He waved to Kagome and she produced their daughter’s new phone out of nowhere – more likely she retrieved it from her backpack when no one was looking – and handed it over.

“For my piece of mind,” Inuyasha rumbled softly, “so I know you have a way to call me if something happens.”

Izayoi smiled in understanding and nodded, taking the device and sliding it into her back pocket. Then she surprised him by wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. Inuyasha glanced at the door, toward Raiden who was patiently waiting and politely looking away, and kneeled down to hug her back, kissing her cheek.

“Happy birthday, babygirl,” he whispered.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered, pulling back to beam brightly at him and kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.”

He grinned at her. “I try.”

Giggling, Izayoi bid her mother bye as well before hurrying over to Raiden, who smiled at her before looking over toward he parents and giving them a nod and small wave. Then they were walking down the steps, toward the sidewalk, and then Inuyasha’s view of them disappeared when Kagome closed the door.

Inuyasha groaned and dragged a hand down his face, suddenly feeling exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to go collapse on the couch and maybe take a nap but a gentle tug on his pants prompted him to look down to find his son staring up at him with big amber eyes, undoubtedly wondering where his sister was and what had just happened.

With a little smile Inuyasha lifted him up into his arms. “Tai,” he said and poked his tummy with a finger, “if you ever put me through half the shit your sister does, I’m gonna beat you bloody.”

The young half-demon blinked and then giggled. “Okay.”

Inuyasha nodded, satisfied. “How about you and me go watch some cartoons and call it a day? Your old man needs a break from life.”

“Yeah!” Tai said with a grin, always excited to watch cartoons on the big screen TV.

“You pick. What are we watching?”

“Spiderman!” he crowed, throwing his hands up and Inuyasha grinned.

“Spiderman it is, then.”

Watching with an amused smile, Kagome piped up, “Is mom allowed to join or is this a boys only thing?”

She watched as her boys exchanged a speaking look and tried very hard not to laugh when Tai’s face screwed up in intense concentration. Then he nodded once, Inuyasha nodded back, and when they turned to her she hoped the amusement was gone from her face.

“You can join, Mama,” Tai told her. “You don’t have cooties.”

Inuyasha choked on his laugh while Kagome said dryly, “Oh, I see. Well that’s a relief.”

Grinning, Inuyasha lifted an arm and his smiling wife tucked herself against his side. Together the three of them wandered into the living room to watch an animated Spiderman kick evil butt although between Inuyasha and Kagome, they had more fun watching their son reenact his favorite scenes while yelling, “My Spidey senses are tingling!”

[thebookmen2]

AO3 BNHA fanfiction Master Post

(Not really in a certain order, I like them all) (most pictures were made for the fic while others I found on the internet that I thought best suited it) Alternate quirk Izuku::: Title: Yesterday upon the stair by PitViperOfDoom Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337607/chapters/19098982 Summary: Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weirdquirkless weakling on top of it. But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless. Not that anyone would believe it if he told them. Notes: BEST BNHA FAN FICTION EVER CREATED! I see dead people Midoriya, Rei!!!!! One of the best fictions that capture all of the BNHA personalities with a stunning plot that is original enough to not be OC but not copying the manga/anime for it to be just a recount of BNHA, infinity/10

Title: UA unsolved by Kabukichou (ameliafromafairytale) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13253055 Summary: "Hey there, ghosts," Midoriya says, "it's me, ya boy." The dorms are haunted. Shenanigans ensue. Notes: so many memes XD, good funny read after u read yesterday upon the stair 

Title: Daymare by IntrospectiveInquisitor Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277075/chapters/25222215 Summary: Izuku Midoriya has endured a decade of abuse, ridicule, and social ostracization due to his status as 'Quirkless'. Even his childhood friend, Katsuki Bakugou, has tossed him aside and made it a mission to drill his uselessness home. But despite his obstacles and the derision of his peers, Izuku will never give up on his dream of being a hero, and will never feel shame for being called Quirkless. Because it's easier than acknowledging that he has a Quirk at all. Notes: HOHOHOHO! If u like Kacchan pissing his pants this is for u, Starburst! Colourful Izuku, super anxiety, protection squad

Title: Dis(associate) by BeyondTheClouds777 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853580/chapters/31865358 Summary: Izuku has a “dissociation” Quirk that lets his ghost leave his body, and it’s both convenient and inconvenient at the same time. Either way, though, he's going to do whatever it takes to become a hero. Notes: Ghost!Izuku AU, SUPER punny~! Cat bells

Title: know what i've made by the marks on my hands by Simkjrs Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356197/chapters/25417506 Summary: Midoriya Izuku just wants to lead a quiet, peaceful life. This is foiled by the fact that a) he can see spirits, b) his good nature demands that he help anyone he sees in trouble, and c) he, by all rights, should not exist. Helping the heroes who have fallen victim to the new quirk-breaking drug is a terrible idea for many reasons, the first and most important being that he hates attention and avoids it like the plague. But he's the only one who can help, so he does. This is, Izuku decides as he breaks in, more trouble than it's worth. Notes: just leave the child alone, badass Izuku, super freaking good, good hearted Izuku wanting to not give a shit. Accidentally keeps giving a shit.

Title: but you gotta get up at least once more by Simkjrs Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7392847/chapters/16792135 Summary: Midoriya Izuku does not let his lack of a Quirk prevent him from being strong. Also known as that one AU where Izuku follows the ridiculous training regimen of Saitama from One Punch Man and becomes stronger than anyone ever imagined he could be. Notes: ONE PUUUUUUUUNCH! A great take on Izuku has no quirk AU, engaging read, Izuku and Kacchan relationship tho so toxic is beautiful, great art too! Happy Shinsou!!!!! Everyone: Mitoki no! Mitoki: Mitoki yes! 

Title: I Summoned a Demon 101: an In-comprehensive guide to Corporeal Demon Do's and Don'ts by EAter Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362569/chapters/25434867 Summary: Midoriya Izuku was born with a quirk: the ability to summon and bind demons from an alternate plane to do his bidding. With only a few days left until the UA entrance exam and still no offensive-type demons in his arsenal, Izuku makes a desperate attempt at summoning one corporeal, a feat he had never before attempted. He'd say it was a success but, he doesn't actually know if it'll be more a help or a hindrance. Especially since Bakugou Katsuki is, well, kind of a shit. Notes: not gonna lie, this is dirty. But I love this fic nevertheless because of Izukus quirk it's amazing, best OC's that don't seem like OC's I summoned a demon fan art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777418/chapters/26554554

Title: I exist, in you by Acchidocchi Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426390/chapters/16867999 Summary: "Having a quirk like this, it's worse than not having one at all," the doctor says, handing some papers over to Inko, whose worried expression has not once wavered. "You'll have to keep a close eye on him to prevent him from hurting himself." Izuku tunes the doctor out. With a quirk like this, he is capable of helping people. And in that moment-- regardless of whatever Inko or the doctor says-- that's all that matters to him. (Or rather, a universe in which young Midoriya Izuku is born with the rare soul bond quirk; allowing him to heal others by transferring their pain to himself). Notes: the feels train is here, Shinsou and Izuku relationship makes me wanna die it's so beautiful, healing quirk Izuku is bootyful, based on Kiznaiver!

Title: Desperate Measures by GlowingArrowsinTheSky and SpiritusRex Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061265/chapters/18470281 Summary: AU in which Izuku stays quirkless and finds his own way of becoming a hero ; ) Notes: general studies Izuku, the protect squad is strong in this one, vigilante!izuku, Mei makes his gear, ‘The Vigilante’, izuku/todoroki, protection squad hunts Izuku hahaha, Izuku accidentally changes the world lol

Title: Erased Potential by theslytherinpaladin Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088315/chapters/24735288 Summary: Midoriya Izuku, determined to become a hero before ever meeting All Might, looks for another way. He might not have a quirk, but that can’t be all that being a hero is about. He has the intelligence, the drive, the determination. All he needs now is to know how to use it. Enter Aizawa Shouta. Notes: If Aizawa got to Izuku before All Might (cough well technically Izuku got to Aizawa cough), Daddy Aizawa, Robin Izuku lol, comic books are involved

Title: Death Warmed Over by Kazzarole Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12398358/chapters/28210815 Summary: When Izuku dies, it's with a lot less grace than he always imagined it'd be. But even when he gives up the ghost, there's still things that need to be said--and, luckily, he gets a second chance. (A fic written for PitViperOfDoom's "Yesterday Upon The Stair".) Notes: an unofficial "if Izuku from yesterday upon a stair died", plus Izuku/todoroki is good shit

In BNHA Universe AU's:: Title: Send Endeavor to the Shadow Realm series by PitViperOfDoom Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/584566 Summary: Todoroki Enji is the worst and Midoriya finds ways to let people know it Notes: JUST THIS WHOLE THING IS AMAZING!! Just some pure Izuku/Todoroki with a shit tone of roasting worst dad in existence 100/10 would recommend all of it

Title: The Laundry room by Dellsey Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567502 Summary: Aizawa is visibly unhappy. “You didn’t know there was a laundry room in the basement? How did you manage before, then?” Everyone starts talking at the same time, and as Aizawa picks up what is said, he starts feeling a very diverse array of emotions, the most intense one being frustration, because, for God’s sake, these are supposed to be the students of the best high school in the country and they couldn’t figure out there were washing machines in the dorm building, but also exasperation when he hears ‘dry cleaner’ (too much money) and ‘mom’ (spoiled, spoiled children), and absolute dread when he hears someone say ‘you’re supposed to wash clothes that often?!’. He sighs. Sometimes, he forgets they’re just kids. Notes: just some good hearted class 1A dorm fluff  

Title: Reverie by AuspiciousWhiskers Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7038916/chapters/16009183 Summary: Shinsou Hitoshi finds a cure for his insomnia in a very unexpected place. Notes: just the best Shinsou/izuku fic tbh, sleepy BOI needs his sleep, Izuku is best boy

Title: Fog lifting by PitViperOfDoom Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12876822 Summary: Izuku doesn't want to be here anymore. He doesn't regret the decisions that led to him ending up here, but he would like to leave now, please. Notes: hooooooly shit I cried, if you like seeing Izuku being hurt u read this, let this boy go home  

Title: That Time Izuku was in a Shitty Mood part of the "that time" series by CaridwenAngetueur1 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889639 Summary: To say that Izuku had woken up on the wrong side of the bed was an understatement. In fact, Izuku was willing to physically fight anybody who summed it up that simply. No, Midoriya Izuku was in the shittiest of moods and you don't want to fuck with him when he's angry. Notes: Super freakin funny, best reactions to moody Izuku ever, don't fuck with izukus sleep guys

Title: diaper days by Sweet_lives Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532163/chapters/19559131

Summary: Deku crosses paths with a Villain who has the power to change ages, and leaves Izuku a toddler! Although this unexpected predicament holds many problems, the biggest issue at UA is who'll get to take care of him! Notes: just some wholesome baby Deku being looked after by class 1A 

Title: Be Enough by PitViperOfDoom Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531698

Summary: Midoriya cracks under the weight of things that may be outside of his control. Bakugou addresses the problem by throwing Todoroki at it. Notes: just some Izuku/todoroki fluff TBH, just throw Todoroki at it and everything will be ok, one chapter fic

Title: Drink my thoughts by Celestialfics Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643583

Summary: [02:13 AM] todoroki: Are you awake? Notes: just a little bit of depression combined with Izuku/Todoroki 

Title: Make the Most by Eloarei Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12185904/chapters/27665082

Summary: People always said he'd never get into UA without a quirk, but he did his best and he succeeded. And people always said he was never going to meet All Might, but there he was, knocked on the floor of a busy supermarket. It didn't look like him, and maybe that was why people weren't clamoring for autographs, but Izuku recognized those eyes when he saw them. He really had to stop listening to other people. Notes: my first All Might/Izuku fic and it's good shit, quirkiness Izuku, Izuku protection squad  adult Izuku

Fantasy AU:: Title: In the Eye of the Storm by CheshireButton Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910153/chapters/26911119

Summary: Izuku Midoriya is a scientific prodigy seeking a cure for a rapidly spreading neurodegenerative disease. A potential clue in his research points to a fabled island, guarded by an eternal storm from which no travelers have ever returned. He navigates through the hurricane and discovers an island that is anything but uninhabited. He must adapt to survive against the natives who place intruders in three categories: warriors, mates, or meat. Notes: maaaan I really love this fic!! Warning is a little dirty but not focused on that focused on the OMG best plot and characters, best Kacchan

Title: prince & prince by Authoress Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565564/chapters/15022348

Summary: Note to self: don't accidentally fall in love with a prince who's in an arranged marriage keeping your kingdoms from declaring war against each other. Especially when you're spying on him as his manservant. Notes: SO GOOD, izuku/todoroki, best man servant Izuku

Title: Remember Me by Blue_Writer Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12603072/chapters/28707684

Summary: It had been years since Bakugou was exiled from his home and became the savage dragon king, but one good thing finally came to his life when he met Izuku again. The only issue, is that he doesn't remember him. Notes: Izuku/Kacchan, you want Kacchan being cute? This is ur fic, dragon boy AU, Izuku wants to be a knight 

Title: break your bones but not your promises by PitViperOfDoom Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738864/chapters/29051784

Summary: Tales of a world of magic and mundane, of heroes, villains, and everything in between-- of promises kept, bonds forged, and monsters both battled and befriended. Notes: it's a good read, lots of Fae law, baby Izuku and Shino are highlights of my life 

Villain Izuku AU:: Title: the distinction between hope and expectation by Kattenprinsen and Ramabear (RyMagnatar) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6963121/chapters/15874927 Summary: Five years ago, Bakugou's favorite nerdy victim vanished off the face of earth. Even if that was the proper thing for a quirkless, useless kid to do, he never quite forgot those bright green eyes staring resolutely up at him even in the face of Bakugou's violence and explosive quirk. The last thing he expects is to find the boy again in his final year at Yuuei- not just that, but to have him hauled into the middle of a fight by a group of bizarro villains out to smash All Might to bits (or something). Admittedly, it's hard to pay attention to a madman's stupid raving when your childhood friend (not dead. not missing anymore. still useless. still so pathetic. utterly helpless.) stares up at you with eyes that are begging for help. Yuuei hasn't taken his rage or his vulgarity away from him, but it has given him something. Bakugou is a hero. And heroes? They save even the useless ones and save Deku he will. He doesn't have a single plan beyond that moment, doesn't need one. Besides, when it comes right down to it, Deku has all the plans that any of them need. Notes: summary sums it up lol, best mastermind Izuku ever!! Multi-quirk Izuku, kinda nearly turns his whole class into villains? Well...shows them the way  a really good read, Izuku/Shinsou (nose bleed CUTE AF)

Title: The Switch by Rhyllow Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375993/chapters/28152045 Summary: Just when Todoroki finally realizes his feelings for Midoriya, his world is turned upside down. On a mission, Midoriya was hit with a quirk that turned him into a villain. Brimming with evil, blood lust, and greedy desire, Midoriya has become unrecognizable to his friends. Blaming himself for Midoriya's suffering, Todoroki makes it his mission to restore his love back to his regular self- knowing full well that there may be no hope left. Notes: oh boy, villain Izuku to the max , Izuku is unstoppable BOI

Title: No hero yet no villain by OldSauk411 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868088/chapters/24141750

Summary: Midoriya Izuku had grown up bullied because he didn't have a quirk. Handled with kid's gloves because he also lacked a soulmate. Told he could never be a hero by the person he look up to the most. Filled with rage at everyone that had ever doubted him, he left to become something they wouldn't see coming, to get back at every single one of them for doubting him. He left to become a villain. Notes: got some Izuku and Shiguraki friendship, multi-quirk Izuku, soulmate AU bros, Izuku/todoroki

Soulmate AU:: Title: Burn and Breathe by PitViperOfDoom Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066478

Summary: Soulmates are connected through pain, and some bonds have more to share than others. Todoroki Shouto wishes he could reject his soulmate. Midoriya wants nothing more than to protect his own. Notes: sweet angsty little read, super powerful "don't you touch him" from Izuku

Omegaverse AU:: Title: we're young and wild and stupid by Dandolion_weed Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12614520

Summary: Omegas who haven't presented deal with their premature heat in different ways. Midoriya Izuku bakes for people he loves. Notes: I'm weak for cute Izuku fics, not dirty just super fluffy