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stellar-imagines · 3 years

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HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝super saiyan S/O.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto ]

「Headcanons of Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki with S/O who has a quirk similar to a Super Saiyan from Dragon Ball Z.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

♤ Midoriya is always interested in quirks, he will never pass up a chance to discover new quirks and their abilities. He was surprised to learn that it wasn’t actually a quirk and that you were just born like this. Superhuman strength, durability, speed, and reflexes. Seeing all that in person was just unreal, Midoriya is already in love. After all, this guy is weak for strong women like yourself. He’s dying to know more about your abilities ties and superhuman traits. But you know how it is for him, he’s very nervous around girls.

♤ Already has his notebook open when you decide to tell him about how your power actually works. This boy will listen to every single word you tell him, making sure he never missed any details. For the things he missed, he would ask you to repeat it. You'd go on and on about how you became a Super Saiyan, the science behind S-Cells, and different forms of a Saiyan. He'd ask you a lot of questions as if he were a student and you were a teacher giving a lecture.

♤ You are what Midoriya aspires to be in the future. You were strong, skilled, and able to hold your ground when facing villains. He admires you greatly and it shows through how he always seems to stare at you while you're training. This results in him not being aware of the things around him, sometimes he'd end up getting injured. His admiration and respect for you slowly turned into affection. It was his friends who pushed him into confessing.

♤ When you both started dating, this boy is still in the “Oh my god, I can’t believe someone as amazing as you is dating me.” stage for 2 whole weeks. He finds it very unbelievable that you accepted his confession. Midoriya puts a lot of effort into your relationship. This guy has a lot of dates planned in mind but he’s too nervous to ask you out. He will try to bring it up casually, making sure you were free during the weekend. Dates with him are always fun, he’s easily amazed by a lot of things and you can’t help but think that its kind of cute.

♤ Training sessions with him are just different. Midoriya was no longer the shy, timid, and easily flustered boyfriend anymore. He’s brash and reckless. This guy goes all out with you, because he knows how strong you were and that it will take a lot for him to defeat you. He gets a bit frustrated when he gets close to beating you in training, its kind of cute. Due to the similar nature of your quirks, you're always giving him a piece of advice that helped him countless times.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

☆ You got this boy whipped from the getgo. Bakugou couldn't take his eyes off of you for even a second. The way you fought and moved during training struck a chord inside him. At first, he was shocked and began to think how unfair the world was, blessing you with such a great ability. After learning that you were basically just inhuman, he wasn't a happy man. He declares you as his rival in front of everyone, and from that day onwards, he's constantly asking you to spar with him.

☆ Despite all that, Bakugou is really weak for you. He admits that you're strong and the most likely to become a great hero to reach the high ranks in the future in Class 1-A. But he never tells anyone that of course, he'd kill himself if that slips out. As time passes, Bakugou couldn't control the growing affection he had for you. It didn't take long for him to realize his feelings thanks to his friends. It eventually led him to confess to you.

☆ Bakugou is very frustrated that you're much stronger than he is. He's very prideful and kind of had this imagination that he'd be the one protecting his S/O. But seeing how strong you were, it was evident that you're able to defend yourself without any help from him. But he's super proud of you and he doesn't bother hiding that fact. He's proud to be dating you but is very against PDA. Don't get me wrong, he loves giving you kisses and hugs but he prefers things like that to be more private.

☆ He loves training with you, its one of his favorite way to spend time with you. Bakugou had always wanted a sparring partner and someone who would join his workout. The two of you would train on hand-to-hand combat most of the time. Sometimes he would take you to the gym where you both will do the same sets together. The two of you will help one another with your reps, he particularly likes having you sit on his back while he does some pushups.

☆ You like to call it Super Saiyan and a form that transcends human and closer to becoming God. Something about being able to reach the most powerful form of a Saiyan. You explained to him about the different forms of a Saiyan as well as the science behind S-Cells required to take on the form of a Saiyan. It confused him from time to time and he eventually gives up. You just explained it in the simplest form and just told him that your hair stands up whenever you enter Super Saiyan mode.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

♡ Definitely not the type to get overwhelmed with how strong you were. It didn't change the fact that he finds your superhuman abilities to be quite interesting. He has never heard of someone not having a quirk and was just inhuman. Todoroki gets curious about your quirk which caused him to initiate a conversation with you. He's not the type who would challenge people and call them his rival or anything. But he's always expecting something amazing from you.

♡ Seeing you in action multiple times made him fall in love with you more and more. He just likes watching you in action, how you were always adapt in different situations. You always performed well during training and surprising him with things that he thought were impossible to do.

♡ Todoroki has no idea how this Super Saiyan thing of yours work at all. Believe me, he tried his best to understand how it works. But once you began going on about S-Cells, Super Saiyan forms, Ultra Instinct, and whatnot, he's already lost. As your S/O, he wants to know everything about you, especially your quirk — ability. You've assured him that it was not necessary but he makes it his goal to decipher your superhuman abilities. So if you feel someone staring at you while you train, don't worry, its just Todoroki.

♡ Todoroki doesn't train that often but if you happen to be the type who would train after classes, he would gladly accompany you. Sometimes he would sit there and watch you, occasionally clapping when you pulled off some cool move. Sometimes he would join you, whether it be sparring or normal workouts in the gym. Todoroki is a great gym partner because he always helps you stretch and keep up with whatever you do.

♡ It doesn't show in his face, but Todoroki is thrilled to be dating someone as amazing as you. He slowly learns about the nature behind your superhuman abilities, as well as the things you could do with it. He shows his affections in an awkward manner but his love for you is so obvious to everyone. He would stare at you unconsciously and buy things that reminded him of you out of instinct. He's not the PDA type and is more of the type who would spoil you with gifts and surprises.

Total: 1313 words Published: 18.09.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ You cannot believe how long I had to sit and listen to my friend's explanation on Super Saiyan and stuff...... But I played Dragon Ball Legends before so I know a thing or two We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! I don't watch Dragon Ball Z and all I know is Kamehameha. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are closed! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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peachybun-bun · 3 years

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I.M.

pairing; Im Changkyun x f reader genre; make out session; suggestive; slight dom!changkyun notes/warnings; kissing, touching/groping, suggestive of more after the fact. the female reader’s movement is restricted and there is throat holding (not choking), if this is triggering to you do not read this one.

Hearing your name you raise a brow. You had been asked to give Changkyun some space while he worked on a few things, so you had obliged. Glancing over your shoulder towards his office, you sigh softly and move to your feet without a word. You push open his door with your right hand and lean against the door frame with a half smile on your face. “Yes?”

He was sitting behind his desk, sheet music, notebooks, a keyboard to the side, various other things strewn about. His glasses sliding slightly down his nose as he sat there, his right leg propped over his left knee. His elbows propped on the armrests, allowing him to rest his hands together at his chest, his index fingers pressed together as if he were in thought. “Come here.”

You smile a bit more fully and nod, opening the door wider and moving into the room towards him to lean next to his chair against the desk. “What’s up? I thought you were going to work for a while?”

Changkyun nods and glances you over, from your bare legs up to your shorts to the loose fitting shirt that hangs off your shoulders, to the messy bun sitting on top of your head. “I did work for a while, now I want to do something else. Sit.”

With that he pushes back from the desk and moves his leg and arms, patting his lap with his hand, causing you to raise a brow and let out a small laugh.

“Alright...what’s the occasion?”

Glancing up at you, he waits for you to do as he asked. You see him take in a breath that almost seems impatient, so you sit on his knee, before he shakes his head and guides you where he wants you. Your legs ending up through the arm rests on either side of the chair as you face him.

“I didn’t know I needed an occasion.”

You watch the smirk cross over his lips as he takes in the view of you sitting in front of him like this. You knew he liked control, he could give just as much as he could take, but he had more fun controlling who did what. You feel the chair slide towards the desk so that your back was pressed against the wood, the position restrictive but not uncomfortable. You hadn’t necessarily been turned on when you heard him call your name to get you into the room, but that had quickly changed in the circumstances.

Changkyun’s fingers slide up your legs, past your shorts to your shirt, where he presses the fabric to the curves of your body. His eyes watch his fingers, but you can also tell he is watching your reaction to his touch. Your back arching as his right hand grazes between your breasts, your breath hitching in your throat as you glance down to watch his hands move.

“Does that feel good? When I touch you? Even like this?”

His brow raised as he lifted his face to look at yours, the fingers of his right hand circling your nipple through your shirt, before applying a bit of pressure to see how you react. Your eyes close as you try to close your legs, but are unable to due to how he had to sit on his lap. All you are able to do is moan softly and nod.

“Mmm,” his voice deep and husky as he feels your legs try to close. His eyes glancing down, the smirk never leaving his face. “You alright, baby?”

Nodding, your hands needing to find something to grip on to. Your right finds the arm of the chair, the other Changkyun’s knee, your fingernails digging slightly into his jeans causing him to hiss very softly.

You voice low, but loud enough for him to make out the words clearly, “You are killing me. Kiss me?”

You hear him adjust himself in the chair, and feel the hand that was once on your breast barely graze between your legs as he adjusts his pants, clearly feeling the consequences of his actions. Your eyes open to look into his as he stares at you, seemingly studying you, before his hands are back on you. His right hand goes to your neck grasping firmly, but not enough to cause you any discomfort in any way.

His other hand grips at your thigh, pressing his fingers under the fabric of your shorts as he leans your head back and moves his head closer, running his tongue from your collar bone to your ear to nip at your earlobe. His breath against your skin causes chill bumps to spread over your skin, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as you ache for his lips on yours. His lips are right at your ear as he speaks, “Say please.”

Without hesitation the word “Please” leaves your lips in a moan as your hips subtly rock against his, just out of frustration, still unable to press your legs together for any relief from the growing desire. You hear his groan in your ear and feel the trail of kisses that lead from your jaw to your lips as his hand guides your face back to his, his hand never leaving your throat holding you in place exactly where he wanted you.

#im changkyun #i.m #monsta x #monsta x i.m #monsta x smut #monsta x fanfic #kpop smut #makeout

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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years

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congratulations on 2k, sweetheart! you truly deserve with your amazing works!

i was wondering if you can do a pair your life with kojiro from sk8🥺 i’m a sucker for domestic bliss. especially during the honeymoon period 😌 he would be a goofball for a husband and smother you with love in the morning (after he basically smothered you in your sleep. he’s a big man)

you can put smut or just make it pure fluff if you want!

again! congratulations on 2k sweetheart!

A/N: Thank you so much, I’ll put in both ;) I hope I’ve captured the right idea here!

Warnings; smut; riding; language; slight dirty talk (?); just for a scene but everything else is fluff; all characters are over 18+

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

“Morning sugar~“ you hear whispers in your ear in the early morning. Only you were practically under a boulder of a man, other known as your husband. You both have recently gotten married about a month ago. You honeymoon was a week long on this beautiful resort. You both were still a bit in the honeymoon, especially Kojiro. Although in his words he says

“Have to have a full balanced meal every morning and night.“ and that went for both you and him.

“Mmmm what time is it?“ you asked stretching out your limbs from their stiff positions.

“Uhh, 6:30 am“ he said, you wanted to sleep more but he was basically fully awake now. You sat up and yawned your sleep away, you turn to him and smile sleepily. His large arms come to wrap around you to bring you to straddle his hips “mmmm so pretty” he said with lidded eyes

You play with his seaweed bangs while his hands skim your thighs. You were in your panties and his t shirt, his favorite thing on you. Last night was one of those long but lustful ones.

“You know,“ he said catching your attention “We still have time until the shop opens up“ he raised a brow. Yes, you both worked at his restaurant, you were a waitress and he cooked of course. Some customers have tried to pick you up only for Kojiro to come out and kiss your cheek. Just a little something to get the message across.

“Mhm, what are you thinking?” you tease

“Well,” without effort he pulls your panties to the side and smiles “I need a little energy boost before I start the day, don’t you think?” he had that look in is eyes

“I’m still tired tho..” you whine in protest just to see where he goes with it

“Don’t sweat it sugar, I’ll do the all work” and truth be told he actually liked doing it too. Sure you liked to treat him every now and then but he was the dominant type. Moving his boxers down slightly his cock springs up, intertwining his fingers with yours you bring your hips up. Aligning yourselves you lower down slowly. As said before, he’s a big man, and somethings were just bigger than most people.

“You good there?“ he asks

“Mhm“ you nod as you start to rock your hips “mmm“ you sigh rolling your head. Maybe this was a good way to wake up in the morning. Looking down at your husband you sometimes think of all the women that crowd and fling themselves to him. Ugh, you loath how they did it even when you were there. However, it was moment like these that reminded you, he was yours.

He was your husband

He came home to you

He was the one who made love to you.

No one else, and that fact made you smile as pride filled your chest. He knew that look and smirked as he made a buck with his hips. His large hands grip your hips as he bucks upward. The bed creaking bellow your combined weight

“Mmmm Jiro~“ you call his nickname “right there! Fuck! Harder!“ your brows knit together as you could feel your high coming soon

“Yeah baby? Need a harder pounding?“ just as promised he held on to you and bucked you into the stars. After a short but passionate session you both get into the shower. You just adored how he washed and massaged your scalp. He’d leave little kisses here and there while he washed and rinsed your back. You both actually love to dress each other, Kojiro does this silly thing where he narrates everything

“And now she slips on her blouse to button them up. If only she could leave about 2 open for me to see.“

“Kojiro!“ you gently punch him.

At around 8 am you both were ready, fed and off to work. Some of the other store owners called you two, the perfect couple. Married at a good age, work together and you two were just so cute together. You’d open up the shop and start prepping the foods. One of his favorite sights was you in his element. He was an amazing chef and one of his favorite things was when you cooked with him. For whatever reason the meal just tasted better when you helped him.

He actually met you here, you had ordered something and he honestly couldn’t stop looking at you. In fact he almost burned the food daydreaming, which rarely happens. By the time you finished with you meal he gave you your receipt with his number and a note

“Paid for! Enjoy your day beautiful“ you rolled your eyes at first. Just another flirtatious guy you suppose. However you flip it over and see a longer note

“I genuinely think you’re stunning and would love to take you out on a nice date“ followed by his phone number at the bottom. You ended up texting him and the rest was history. Now you were married, worked together and your life with him was happy. While you were dicing up some veggies and other ingredients he started on things such as soups and breads that can be served as small sides.

“’Scuse me my wife“ he said coming behind you to reach into a high cupboard pushing himself against your ass. He thought he was slick

“I know what you’re doing Jiro” you giggle pushing him back with you butt

“I have no idea what you’re implying my lady“ he teasing booping your nose with his finger moving back to his spot. The jiggle of the bells from your front door went off. Meaning it the was the first customer of the day

“That’s my cue.“ you grabbed your small notebook and pen and off you went. Meanwhile he stayed to cook sighing as he watched you leave. Listen thing may be all fun and games with you both but he really did love and cherish you with every fiber of his being. After a year of dating he knew he wanted you by his side until his dying breath. Of course like every couple you’ve had your rough patches along with your good ones. At one beef some girl wouldn’t get off him no matter how many times she was told.

You had told him “I’m not going to fight for you if you’re not willing to fight for us.”

He almost lost you that night, luckily he had caught up to you. Ironically it was raining and he stopped you in the middle of the road. You each pour your heart out and he slipped the proposal along the lines of

“I don’t want anyone else but you!“ he still upset that he wasn’t as strong back then but it was in the past. Looking over his shoulder he saw you greeting a family. The woman who had changed him and his life, you were smart, funny, gorgeous, dedicated and just down right perfect for him.

This entire day was all he wanted in life. To wake up to you everyday, make love to you and even start a family with you. Of course you and him still go to beefs together only this time he wore his ring proudly on his necklace. At the end of the day he loved to just relax on the couch with your feet in his lap. He massaged the sore soles of your feet while a cheesy rom-com played on the tv.

“Kojiro..” you called his attention making him look your way

“Yeah?”

You hum “mm nothing...just love you is all” you smile. Letting go of your feet he crawls between you legs to rest his head on your chest. His arms encircling your waste as he resting comfortably. Your fingers caress his locs as you smile softly. This was bliss, just here in this moment with him

“mm your heart sounds nice“ he sighed snuggling into you “can we just stay here? Forever?“

“Forever? What about cooking and skating?“

“I love those things but“ he looked up at you “you’re much better. Better for kisses and cuddling..and other things“

“Oh god“ you chuckle

“What? I was going to say company“ he scrunched his nose at you with a smile

“Oh Jiro, never change please.“

“Only if you don’t, my perfect wife~“

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

#nanjo kojiro x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 joe #sk8 joe x reader #sk8 the infinity #Joe x reader #nanjo kojiro #anime #anime x reader #domestic life #anime fanfiction #fanfiction

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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bigteefsmallbrain · 3 years

Note

General Soul Eater HCs please

Soul Eater: General headcanons

Death the Kid:

He’s an art critic

Hear me out

He is obsessed with symmetry, and loves the beauty in it

So when he sees something non-symmetrical, especially in art, he can’t help but to critique it

May go as far as to send a personal letter to the artist (If they’re alive) about how offensive it is that they created something so asymmetrical

If he can’t send a letter to the artist, he’ll send one to the owner/museum and request it be taken down, while listing reasons why it’s horrible.

Anything he writes has an even amount of letters and words

Be that his test answers

Essays

Letters

Diary entry

Speaking of diary entries, he definitely has one

But it’s actually just a catalogue of symmetrical things he’s seen

He puts photos into it and writes about how beautiful it was to see

He doesn’t care what it is much, just that it was beautiful

Meaning he takes photos of people too

Which can be unnerving at times

He’s probably taken a photography class before, or at the very least is self taught

Literally has a photo album of things he views are beautiful, but non symmetrical and he would die if anyone found it

Like a particular sunset with uneven hills

Or a flower with one too many petals

Definitely has an 8 ball, not a magic one, just an 8 ball, it’s placed on a velvet pillow in his room and he frequently polishes it

Elizabeth Thompson:

Makes several backup plans as a way to cope

Especially after dealing with an experience with a ghost

She has notebooks full of them, labeled and detailed

At one point she started putting them in alphabetical order but stopped immediately when she realized Kid’s perfectionist habits were rubbing off on her

She practices acting in the mirror

Usually so she can charm a man into dating her

But also to con people

She used to be a “Street rat” and that thought of ending up on the streets again constantly plagues her mind

She takes full advantage of the “Rich life”

Shopping sprees

Quality makeup

Salons and spa days

The works

She lets Patty’s thought that she knows everything get to her head

The fact alone that her sister believes in her that much is enough to make her a bit egotistical

And Patty’s admiration for the girl makes it ten times worse

She literally doesn’t care if she ends up being wrong because she’ll just be right next time anyways

So stubborn in that aspect

Patricia Thompson:

She likes dark humor

You can’t convince me otherwise, you actually can’t, I have evidence

She made an origami Giraffe, and broke its neck

Laughed when Kid said he “wants to die”

She literally pokes him with a stick when he’s depressed

She likes dark humor, and probably looks up jokes to tell others just for kicks

She’s secretly sadistic, and likes scaring her sister and others

She may act naïve and innocent, but she is anything but

She definitely has, more than once, banged on Liz’s door at 3AM just to hear her sister squeal like a little girl

Honestly, she probably purposefully gets their pose wrong, just to see her sisters annoyance and laugh when Kid gets smacked

She likes origami

Probably first got into it because of the paper ninja stars

Then just found it relaxing

She most likely makes the ninja stars mostly, and keeps a box of her origami creations somewhere

Has in the past, and will not hesitate to do so again, beat someone up for kicks or just to destress

Patty has two faces, the childlike innocent one, and the insane anger one

So it’s not too far fetched to say that she’ll hide her anger till she can corner someone alone and beat them up

Or that she gets bored and decides to do so

I wouldn’t be too surprised if her sister occasionally joined as well

Maka Albarn:

She’s a Harry Potter nerd and you can’t convince me otherwise

She loves the concept of magic

Loves the dynamic between Ron and Hermione, though feels a bit of Deja vu thinking about it

Probably used to write fanfiction, but in a way that made it seem like it was actually part of the story

She will hit you if you mention it

Definitely the type to compare books to their movie counterparts

Not in like, a critic way, but she will definitely rant about the differences, or how a character looks exactly like she imagined, or if they didn’t put in a particular scene she liked in the book

Forces Soul into movie nights, but it’s only the movie counterparts to her books

I can see her forcing everyone into a group study session

Be super organized about it, and setting it up in a way so that no one can refuse

She probably has specific ways for everyone to study

Like having Black☆Star work out while studying so he retains the knowledge better

Or setting up the session in a symmetrical way so Kid doesn’t freak out about it

She writes letters to her mom, as a coping mechanism for when her emotions get to be a little too much

Like when she’s having a bad day

Or if she’s particularly peeved at something Soul did

She writes a lot more letters when it comes around the time of her mom's birthday or death anniversary

She likes the thought of an old timey romance, and often listens to songs that give off that kind of feel

She really likes “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”, it’s one of her favorites

She also likes the old Disney songs, like “Once Upon a Dream” and “So This Is Love”

She would be so embarrassed if anyone found out though, especially if it was her dad or Soul

She isn’t quite sure why she’s so worried about Soul finding out though

Speaking of, she half realizes, half doesn’t with anyone's romantic feelings, including her own

She’ll fantasize about getting a love letter or having someone present her with a bouquet of roses

But if it actually happens she’s like “Oh, thanks friend!”

She knows the behaviors, she just can’t put two and two together

They would have to be extremely blunt, no over dramatic confession, just “I’m in love with you and want to be romantically involved with you”

She reads dictionaries for fun

She really likes to read out of date dictionaries, just to see what words and slang existed back then

She also highlights words she likes and uses them frequently on accident

She has most definitely yelled “I have cupid’s kettlebells*! I’m not flat!” at Soul before

Soul Evans:

Bottles. Up. His. Emotions.

He’s influenced by “toxic masculinity” and fully believes that being vulnerable in a serious way “isn’t cool”

He will bottle everything up so deep down inside that it seems impossible for it to surface

Feelings of inferiority to others? Bottled

Want to cry or break down? Nope, gotta be cool

Started crying in front of someone and can’t stop? He’s not crying, you’re clearly blind

Speaking of crying, once he starts, and I mean genuinely starts, it’s so hard to get him to calm down, and even then the tears don’t stop

Sometimes he’ll start to freak out and send himself into a panic attack because the tears just won’t stop

He’s that influenced by the thought of being vulnerable

On a lighter note, he does adore playing the piano, but the only person he’ll play for is Maka

He swears it’s not favoritism, and it’s partially true, but favoritism does play a large role in it

He frequently drags Maka to his room to show her a new piece he put together

And if he notices her feeling a little down that day, he’ll start playing a song that he knows she likes

He definitely knows about her love for old timey romance songs and is very embarrassed to admit a lot of the pieces he constructs are based off of that

The walls are p a p e r t h i n , he can hear her music through the walls

He secretly finds it adorable when he catches her listening to it because she’ll be dancing around to it

He also frequently finds himself thinking about those moments

He’s the stereotype that parents tell little girls about, with how boys will bully their crush

He’s a lot more playful and easy going, but still teases Maka, so much

Unlike Maka, he’s fully aware of his feelings, and acknowledges them, but bottles it up, only letting himself entertain the thought every once in a while

He jabs at Maka’s lack of “Cupids Kettlebells” as a way to try and ensure she won’t fall for him, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she does

He reads the same dictionaries that Maka does, not for fun, but so he can know just what the actual h e l l she’s saying

More than once he’s had to look up a particular word or phrase online because he can’t find it in the dictionary

“What the hell? It’s an old Victorian saying!? Where does she keep finding this stuff!?”

Subconsciously, as time goes on, he starts using old phrases as well, he was so embarrassed the first time he got caught saying “Keep your idle daddles* off of her!” when defending someone from a perv.

Black☆Star:

Is so unbelievably selfish with food

It’s not even funny

He will stab someone if they reach for his food

He surprisingly eats healthy most of the time though?

Says something like “I have to otherwise I’ll never surpass the gods!”

The only person who could ever p o s s i b l y steal his food is Tsubaki, but even that’s pushing it

He has the weirdest dreams, and I mean weird

Dreams like being turned into a potato and being cooked, mashed, and devoured by Tsubaki herself

He didn’t talk to her for a week after that dream, and refused to eat potatoes for a full year because “You never know if it could be a person turned into a potato!”

He was also very offended when Tsubaki ate potatoes during that time period

He takes things very literally

Like up above, if someone does something in a dream, he acts like it was real

Or if someone makes a joke about fighting, he will drag them outside to fight

He’s secretly scared of Tsubaki

But it’s for literally the stupidest reason

And he fully believes that because of it she could fight god and win

She used to have a pet cockroach

One of the flying ones

And he is so unbelievably scared of them, because for some reason they just don’t die, and they have w i n g s

So the fact she owned one as a pet scares him so bad even though it was literally for only a week

He has a soft spot for children

He doesn’t really know why

He just does

Is secretly really good with kids

Literally the definition of dad material

He has his flaws but still

Little kids are the only people who could steal his food and get away with it

Every. Time. and it makes the others so mad

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:

What can I say, she’s perfect

She probably receives love letters

Reads them over when she’s feeling sad

Likes to keep them in a shoebox she painted

She definitely paints to unwind and relax

Likes to go outside and paint the sunrise/sunset

Takes note of beautiful scenery so she can come back in her free time and paint it

She probably draws/sketches too

Carries a sketchbook with her

More than likely has drawn Black☆Star doing something

Like napping or training

She’d never show him though, too scared of inflating his ego or giving him the wrong idea

Stress bakes/cooks

We know she cooks

Liz took advantage of it and pretended Tsubaki’s cooking was her own

So we know she does

Sometimes painting/drawing doesn’t cut it

So she heads to the kitchen and bakes away her worries and unwinds

The main reason Tsubaki would possibly be spared from Black☆Star’s stabbing habit with food is because she cooks all the meals

She makes sure everyone is comfortable around her

She’ll go as far as to learn someone's customs and practice cooking their unique cuisine just to make sure that they feel comfortable and safe in her presence

She radiates mom friend energy

She’s perfect mom material, perfect wife material, perfect in general honestly

*Cupid's Kettlebells is a old term for a woman's bust

*Idle daddles is a old term for hands

I Hope you like these general headcanons for the main seven! You didn’t say which characters you’d like to see, so I played it safe by putting the main characters! Thank you for the ask!

#soul eater #anime headcanons #headcanon #general headcanon #maka albarn #soul evans #blackstar #tsubaki nakatsukasa #patricia thompson #elizabeth thompson #death the kid

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

Text

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES

TWO - Grease 1 & 2

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ I made a friend. “

Dr. Raynor doesn’t look up from her notebook but the slightly surprised raise of her eyebrow doesn’t get lost on Bucky.

“ Thought you might want to know. “

She stops writing for a second and glances up at him, her eyes holding a certain sense of hesitation and reluctance. He can almost see the gears in her head turning. She’s trying to get one step ahead of him, figure out what smartass comment he’ll throw at her. Only this time there isn’t one. This time it’s all genuine. It’s all true.

“ I do. That’s — good. Where’s the catch? “

“ There’s no catch. I made a new friend, just like that. And it’s not some making amends thing either. “

She closes her notebook, places it on the table to her right, and then folds her hands in her lap the way she does sometimes when Bucky knows he’s said something important. He has her entire and undivided attention.

“ That’s good, James. Tell me more about this friend. “

“ Her name is (Y/N). She’s a waitress and she’s really into movies. “

“ Oh. “

“ Oh? “

“ It’s a woman. “

“ Yeah it’s a woman, is that a problem? “ Bucky asks. Now it’s time for him to raise an eyebrow in question.

“ No. It’s not. I just didn’t expect it. “

“ Are you saying men and women can’t be friends? That’s awfully antiquated thinking, Doc. Have you ever seen when Harry met Sally? “

“ I have. Have you?”

Bucky scoffs as if the question is an insult to his intelligence.

“ Sure. It’s a classic. “

He hits her with a sarcastic grin, the one he knows she hates. The one she knows is fake and fabricated but that allows him to be unreadable to her for just a second.

“ Well then. I’m glad you’re making friends. It’s a big step, James. But I don’t want you to get attached to someone because you think that’s gonna make you get out of this arrangement any sooner, “ she says and motions her finger around the room in a twirling motion. “ It’s a more permanent situation. I hope you are aware of that.”

Eyes averted to the floor, Bucky nods his head in understanding.

“ I know. That’s not the reason. I — she knows me. Knows about me before all of the bad stuff. In her eyes, I am the man I used to be before Hydra. It’s nice to go back to that even if it’s not the truth. (Y/N) gives me a chance to figure out who I am right now without being reminded of all the bad things I did. “

When he looks back up Dr. Reynor regards him with a look he’s never seen before. Softer. She even smiles a little bit and he hardly ever sees her smile. Granted, he doesn't make these sessions easy for her so what does he expect really? Her smiling at him feels like he’s doing something right.

“ She sounds lovely. “

“ She talks so much and she sends me weird videos I don’t understand. Like, yesterday she sent me one of a kid saying he’s 19 and he can’t read and — I have no idea what it meant. And she makes fun of me for having a flip phone. But it’s not mean-spirited or anything. She doesn’t make me feel left out. Doesn’t make me feel stupid. “

“ Anything else you know about her? “

“ Her coffee tastes horrible. “

Dr. Reynor lets out an airy chuckle. “ James, I like the fact that you’re making friends. We all need friends, especially during times when we feel like we’re lost or have no direction in life. And it sounds like this friendship is good for you. “

“ But? “

“ Why do you think there’s a but ? “

“ There always is. “

She regards him for a second then nods slightly. “ You’re right. But it’s not a bad one. Listen, it seems like this woman knows a lot about who you used to be. How about you learn a little more about her? Even the playing field. A friendship is based on mutual understanding and trust. That’s my homework for you. Get to know her better. “

“ Your homework is for me to spend time with a friend? “

“ Yes. Now that doesn’t sound so bad, does it? “

Bucky shakes his head in reply.

No, that really doesn’t sound all that bad.

The bell above the door chimes as Bucky steps inside the diner. It’s quite a bit more crowded than the last time he’s been here.

“ Grumpy!”

His head snaps towards the counter at the enthusiastic exclamation of his new nickname.

(Y/N) stands behind the counter clad in the diner’s signature baby blue polo shirt, a pencil tugged behind her ears, and a frilly apron wrapped around her waist.

Her lips pull into a smile as he approaches and plops down onto one of the barstools.

“ You have impeccable timing, Grumpy.”

“ I guess that’s gonna stick? “

(Y/N) only nods her head in agreement, eyes full of mischief and determination. There’s no sense in arguing about this topic. That’s one nickname set in stone now. And really, it’s not like it doesn’t fit him.

“ I have something for you. “

“ You do? “

“ Well it’s not technically for you specifically but I need someone to try it so — “

Before he can even react she rushes back into the kitchen, her sneakers creating squeaking sounds on the shiny linoleum floor.

“ Do you want some coffee? “ the other waitress approaches, holding out the pot filled with the dark brew. It smells warm and delicious and Bucky wants to say yes until he remembers the last time he’s had coffee here and how bitter and burned it had been. And how he drank it anyway because he couldn’t bear to let (Y/N) know that her coffee was horrible.

“ Don’t worry, “ the waitress speaks up again, obviously picking up on Bucky’s complicated feelings towards the diner’s coffee “ I made it. Won’t let her near the pot when I’m around.”

“ In that case, please. “

Just as the mug fills with coffee, (Y/N) comes back tumbling around the corner and out of the kitchen. She leans against the counter, next to the red-haired waitress, and plops a Tupperware container in front of Bucky.

“ Try these and tell me what you think. “

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee before slowly opening the container to be greeted by a pile of cookies, of all shapes and sizes, no two quite the same.

“ Cookies? “

“ Eat one! “

“ Whoa, hold up.” Bucky exclaims as he raises his hands in mock defense. “ this sounds awfully suspicious to me. Are you trying to pull a Snow White on me here? “

(Y/N) eyes grow big and the most radiant smile spreads across her face at his words.

“ You made a pop culture reference!”

“ Saw it in the cinema. “

“ No way.”

“ Mmmh. With my sister.”

“ I just decided I love it when you make pop culture references. “

“ Noted.”

“ Okay, so since no one thinks it’s important to introduce me, let me do it myself,” the red-haired waitress chimes in and holds out her hand for Bucky to shake. He can see her eyebrows furrow a little as she notices his gloves. It’s not yet cold enough for people to not wonder about it. They know something ain’t right with him and he hates it. Wishes they’d just disregard it. Act like it’s a completely normal and feasible thing.

“ I’m Robin, (Y/N)’s best friend. “

“ I’m Bucky. Hopefully, not the first victim of (Y/N)’s poisoning.”

“ Oh, how arrogant of you to assume you’d be the first. If you don’t want my cookies, give ‘em back !”

(Y/N) tries to reach across the counter only for Bucky to snatch the container away holding it out of her reach. “ You gave me the cookies, you can’t take them back. That’s not how gifts work.”

“ Then try one for god’s sake! “

“ Alright, calm down. I will. “

He hates the fact that both (Y/N) and Robin are staring at him as he takes a bite of one of the cookies. The whole thing is almost the size of his face and littered with chocolate chips. It’s a damn mess of a cookie and he’d loved to have been there when she made them. No doubt it was chaos. No doubt it was an awful lot of fun too.

The cookie is — a lot. It’s too much sugar, too much chocolate. Too much of everything. He can practically feel the cavities building with every bite he takes. It’s that sweet.

But she looks at him with such glee in her eyes and this big beautiful smile that rivals the sun with its brightness and there’s no way in hell he can tell her the truth. Not when lying about it keeps that smile on her face.

Quite honestly, Bucky thinks, life isn’t about telling the truth at all times. Sometimes, life is about knowing when to use your little white lies. Sometimes telling the truth isn’t doing anyone any favor.

“ So ? “

“ They’re — sweet.”

And they are. So really, it isn’t even an actual lie after all.

“ Good. They’re supposed to be. You see, I have a date tomorrow and I asked him what his favorite dessert was and he said cookies. I’m not sure they count as a dessert but anyway. Thanks for being my guinea pig. “

Robin throws him a look over (Y/N)’s shoulder. A look that lets him know she’s not buying it. She’s looking right through him. But she smiles so maybe she too realizes that sometimes lying saves everyone the heartache that may come with the truth.

“ You have a date? “

“ I do. His name is Russell, we’ve been hanging out for a while but he had to go to Europe for work and we haven’t seen each other in a few months. It was never anything serious, kind of a wrong place, wrong time thing. But maybe this time it works. “

“ Oh please, “ Robin exclaims, furiously slamming the pot back into the coffee machine. “ This loser has been stringing you along for far too long now. He’s not worth it. Trust me you can do so much better than him. “

There’s something about the way (Y/N) mood changes, the way she falters, that Bucky doesn’t like. Not even a tiny little bit. It’s a split second, just the whisper of a moment and then she’s back to her joking, bubbly self. But that tiny second is enough. Enough for Bucky to know he never wants to see it again. The doubt and hurt fluttering across her eyes. He’s seen too much hurt in too many eyes. It’s never getting any easier. It just makes him realize how much he hates seeing it in hers.

“ Ignore the crazy lady, he’s not that bad.” (Y/N) tries to reason, though the light and airy tone in her voice doesn’t sound quite as convincing as it usually does.

“ He refuses to put a label on your relationship and he treats you like you’re disposable. “

“ Sounds like a catch, is this the one with the fish picture or the one with the star wars facts? “ Bucky asks, biting off yet another piece of the tooth-achingly sweet cookie.

“ Neither. We met while walking our dogs. He’s nice, really. “

“ Sounds like it. “

“ He is. Robin over there just thinks she’s the expert on romance because she’s about to get married. Don’t believe a thing she says. Her own fairytale romance makes her blind to other people’s romantic struggles. “

Robin shakes her head in disagreement, making her red curls bounce with each motion. “ You’re a big girl, you know what you’re doing. I’m just calling things as I see them. Anyway, I gotta serve table 4.”

Silence falls upon them as Robin leaves to tend to the customers and (Y/N) averts her eyes back towards the countertop.

“ Hey, “ Bucky speaks up, getting (Y/N) to look up and meet his eyes. “ I hope the date turns out well for you, you deserve that. And if it doesn’t, just text me and we can watch another movie or something. “

“ You’d do that for me? “

“ Yeah. Sure. It’s what friends do. We’re friends now — right ? “

(Y/N) smiles “ right!”

And it’s nice, Bucky thinks, to have a friend again. Even though it’s all new and fresh, it feels wonderful. Like a tiny bit of weight has been taken from his shoulders. Like he can take a breath for the first time in a long time.

Joe’s Pizzaria is an American restaurant that tries desperately to trick Americans into thinking it’s an authentic Italian restaurant.

And while it does have a certain undeniable charm, (Y/N) gets a bit tired of chomping down on yet another breadstick while staring at the red and white checkered tablecloth and pretending not to grasp the gravity of the situation. He’s not gonna come. He’s two hours late. Two whole hours. Half a bottle of wine and one salad late. The waiters pity her, it’s painfully obvious. The way they keep checking on her, keep asking if there’s anything they can bring her. Keep filling her breadstick with no upcharge.

Pity, (Y/N) thinks, is her least favorite emotion. It doesn’t do anyone any good and in the end, everyone just feels worse.

A "ping" coming from her phone pulls (Y/N) from her thoughts and for a teeny-tiny second a flicker of hope sparks in her heart that maybe Russell is just late and this is him apologizing and explaining. Maybe she was worth it to him after all.

Then her eyes register the name on the screen and disappointment fills her veins. Does he really not care? Does she really mean so little to him, he doesn't even feel the need to cancel the date? Is this some sick joke?

Bucky's message reads: Hope you're having fun. Did he like the cookies?

It's a weird feeling, to know someone she hasn't known for very long wastes even the smallest thought on her while her date doesn't give a shit. All it does is set into perspective that her blossoming friendship with Bucky is worth any effort it might take.

"Don't ask. Hey, what are you doing right now?"

"Oh, that bad? Not much. Trying to figure out what to have for dinner. Why?"

"How do you feel about spaghetti and meatballs?"

He doesn’t have a couch.

That’s the one thought that spooks around his head as soon as he realizes what he’s just agreed to.

He’s been living here for months and he doesn’t even have a fucking couch.

When (Y/N) asked if she could come around, when she said she’d bring food and asked if her dog could come, he couldn’t say no. Not when she's already been stood up that night. Nevertheless, everything inside him starts twisting up in knots at the thought of opening his home to another person. Home. That’s really the problem now that he thinks about it. This place doesn’t feel like a home. It’s 4 walls and a roof. Nothing has felt like home in a long time.

He invited her over and he doesn’t even have a fucking couch.

There’s a TV and an armchair, a few cupboards, a chair, and a bed he doesn’t sleep in. Sometimes he thinks back to his childhood home, with all his mother's porcelain figurines collecting dust on the shelves and the wall of family pictures. It felt warm and cozy and like it was meant for people to live and learn and grow. It was their own.

This apartment is a box for him to stay at. Nothing here is in any way personal. But how do you make something your own when you don’t even know who you really are? When all you remember are times long gone or times you want to forget.

He snatches the sheets and pillow off the floor and throws them on his bed. He might not be able to get any more furniture in time for (Y/N) to arrive but he sure as hell doesn’t need to let her know that his nightmares don’t allow him to sleep in his own damn bed.

A knock sounds from the front door and for a second, Bucky’s blood turns cold as ice. No one ever talks about how scary it is to let people in. Would it matter to her and their friendship that his apartment is just as empty as he feels inside?

As soon as he opens the door, a fluffy bundle of white and brown fur rushes past him and runs a lap around his living room before settling by his feet, tail wagging and tongue hanging from his mouth.

“ Oh god, sorry. She’s just so excited to meet new people. “

Giving the dog a few pets, Bucky turns back to (Y/N), who gives him one of her signature sunshine smiles as she holds out a paper bag to him. The smell of delicious food reaches Bucky’s nose as he takes the bag from her and ushers her inside.

“ So, Spaghetti? “

“ Yup. And meatballs. “

Bucky nods his head in approval, “ Sounds good to me. “

She smiles at him again but there’s a kind of sadness surrounding her that he wishes he could take away. Whoever that Russell guy is, he’s a damn fool for not showing up.

“ Food’s still warm so if you tell me where your plates are … “ (Y/N) trails off as she really takes in the state of his apartment for the first time since she’s stepped inside. He can basically see the thoughts running through her head, one after the other, none sticking around long enough to form a coherent string of words to express what she’s thinking. He knows she wants to comment, can see it in her eyes. But something is holding her back and he can’t blame her. Their friendship isn’t that deep yet. You don’t ask someone you’ve just gotten friendly with why their apartment is so fucking empty. It’s sad and there are implications there that run deeper than one can see.

So to spare her any more awkward silence, Bucky speaks up again.

“ I uh — I just moved in. Haven’t gotten around to getting much furniture. We can sit by the kitchen counter or you can take the armchair and I’ll take the floor. “

“ That’s fine, we’ll make it work, “ she replies, before turning towards the kitchen cupboards, “ now … plates ?”

“ This is delicious “ Bucky exclaims as he stuffs yet another fork of Spaghetti into his mouth.

Lady, (Y/N)'s Cocker Spaniel, casually lounges on his armchair, eyes always trained on the dishes of pasta, while Bucky and (Y/N) sit on the floor, backs against the wall.

“ Right? I love Meatballs. Last time I was at Joe’s Pizzeria, I was there with Russell and he got real pretentious about not ordering Spaghetti and Meatballs from an Italian restaurant because it wasn’t authentic Italian cuisine. As if I care. It tastes good, that’s all that matters.”

“ Well, he really does sound better with every new thing you tell me about him.”

(Y/N) shrugs and avoids eye contact with him. It’s strange, Bucky thinks, to see her this way. All of her bubbly personality and contagious energy are suddenly drained from her. Like someone squeezed her too tightly and pushed all the joy out.

“ Yeah he’s an asshole, I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess whatever we had going on just felt familiar and sometimes going back to something you know, even though it’s bad for you, is easier than opening yourself to something new. “

“ Wow, my therapist would love you. That sounded so smart.”

“ It did, didn’t it?,” (Y/N) says and lets out a little chuckle. It’s nice to hear her laugh even though it doesn’t hold the radiance, the pure happiness it usually does.

“She gave me some homework.”

(Y/N) looks at Bucky between bites, raising an eyebrow in intrigue. “ She did? “

“ Mmmh. I told her about you and our friendship and she thought that, because you know a lot about me, I should learn some things about you. “

(Y/N) quickly swallows the pasta before placing both her hands over her heart and staring at Bucky with an expression he can’t entirely read. There’s a glimmer of mischief in her eyes but there’s more, he just needs to figure out what exactly it is.

“ You talk to your therapist about me? Awww. That’s how you know a friendship is worthwhile. When they mention you to their therapist, that’s when you know it’s real. “

“ Aw man, now you’re just making fun of me. I take it all back. “

“ No! No, Bucky. I think that’s very sweet and it makes me feel important,” there’s a sincerity in her eyes that makes him feel a little weird. Not a bad weird. Just — different. He didn’t think this was gonna be such a big deal to her. And while he still feels extremely self-conscious about it all, he’s a little glad that he mentioned her to Dr. Reynor. Maybe it would do both of them some good, him and (Y/N).

“ It’s nice that our new friendship matters enough for you to mention it to her. Getting stood up by Russell felt like a punch in the guts. It made me feel incredibly inadequate and like I wasn’t worth enough for him to text me let alone show up. Knowing that there’s someone who thinks about me every once in a while, that’s a nice feeling. Least my friends think I’m worth it. "

Hearing those words fall from her lips sends a wave of anger and disbelief through Bucky. (Y/N) is the first person in a long while that makes him feel like he can figure out who he is and who he was and not feel guilty about it. To think she feels inadequate or like she's not good enough is just unbelievable to him.

"Just forget about that guy, he's clearly an idiot. You deserve someone who shows up. When it matters and even when it doesn't. "

"He didn't even get to try my cookies. I worked so hard on them."

"What? Oh my god, okay see - he's a damn fool. Those cookies were - so sweet. His loss, really."

(Y/N)'s laughter echoes through the halls of his empty apartment and Bucky thinks that maybe that was one of the things missing from this place to really make it a home. Emotions. Laughter and joy. Something other than fear and regret. Something other than pain.

“ Bucky, you’re so nice but you don’t have to lie. I know the cookies weren’t all that great. “

“ No! They were good, they were just — very sweet. And you know what? You deserve a guy who eats them anyway.”

She doesn’t give him a reply to that comment and maybe it doesn’t ask for one either. Some statements don’t need answers, they just are.

“ Hey, do you want my last meatball? “ he asks, and at her smile and enthusiastic nod, he rolls it from his plate onto hers.

“ Now what movie did you bring? “

“ Oh boy, “ (Y/N) proclaims and looks at Bucky with an unwavering excitement “ you’re in for a wild ride. Tonight we’re doing a double feature.”

“ Bringing the big guns, huh? “

“ You have no idea. Tonight we’re watching Grease 1 and 2. “

Two couples stare back at Bucky from the bubblegum-colored DVD case (Y/N) pulls from her purse. Something about the bright colors and the over-the-top hairstyles makes Bucky think that these movies won’t be the absolute pinnacle of sophisticated filmmaking.

“ What’s the lesson this time?“

“ Eh, “ (Y/N) says and shrugs “ when I was younger I thought it was meant to teach you that if you want to be with someone you can overcome any obstacle. No matter how different you seem or what other people might think. Now that I’m an adult I think it’s just about the 50s aesthetic and the killer musical number. “

“ Musical numbers? “

“ Mmmh. And well, the second one is pure garbage but it’s so bad it’s good. It also helps that Michelle Pfeiffer and Maxwell Caulfield look absolutely gorgeous in this film. “

“ So this isn’t gonna help me with my romance skills then? “

(Y/N) regards him for a second, purses her lips, and taps the side of her face as she thinks about her answer. “ I mean, the second movie is basically about how cool men who ride motorcycles are. Do you ride a motorcycle? “

“ I do actually. “

“ What? Oh, you just got 10 times cooler. One could say you’re a — cool rider.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrow in confusion.

“ Don’t worry, Grumpy. You’ll get the reference later.”

“ If I’m Grumpy, which of the 7 dwarves are you? “

“ Sleepy? “

“ Dopey? “

“ No. How about Happy ?”

It’s meant to be silly, just a joke really, but Bucky can’t help but think that it fits her. Even when she’s sad, there’s an infinite positivity in her eyes, an aura of joy and happiness and being around her is just so easy.

“ You know what? I think that’s the one. “

“ I like it. Now — let me introduce you to the students of Rydell High.”

“ What in the world did you just make me watch? “ Bucky asks as the end credits to Grease 2 roll across the tv screen. Lady is snuggled up in his lap and his right hand lazily combs through her soft fur.

“ Two absolute masterpieces. “

“ In the first one they flew away in a car. And that second one, I don’t even know what to say.”

“ Because it was so good? “

“ Mmmmh no. That's not why. “

"Oh please, you can admit you l-" a big yawn interrupts her words and Bucky notices just how tired she looks right then.

"You're tired." It's not a question, more an observation.

"Mmmh Lady and I should probably head out."

He doesn't want her to leave. Disappointment, it's a feeling he knows very well, it's familiar and almost comfortable. Usually, though, that disappointment is directed towards himself. A lovely dose of self-deprecation. This time it's different. This time he's disappointed about the situation. About the prospect of being alone again. Alone in his empty box of an apartment.

The anxiety of letting someone in is slowly being overshadowed by his fear of being alone again. With his thoughts and his failures and the images of all the faces that have ever looked at him in fear.

"You can stay"

"Bucky … you don't have a couch. Where would I sleep?"

"Bed," he says as if it's the most obvious of all answers ever given.

"Grumpy, I'm not taking your bed."

"I'm not sleeping there anyway."

"Why?"

Her eyes are so soft and gentle as the question tumbles from her lips. So full of concern. For him. Concern and care, for him. It's not like he deserves it but it's a nice feeling either way.

"It's too soft."

It's painfully obvious that she knows there's more to it, that his words hold more gravity and weight than just that simple fact.

She doesn’t push it though and for that Bucky is eternally grateful. Sure, talking to her is easy and it helps him in some way or another. But this, his nightmares and his trauma and the faces that won't leave his thoughts, that haunt him as soon as he falls asleep, that's a can of worms he's not ready to open yet.

"Where do you sleep?"

"Floor."

"Oh, Grumpy. Hey uh - how about we both stay on the floor? You're in luck too because I also have a live version of Grease the musical we can watch."

He doesn't necessarily want to watch another movie where they sing pretty much every two minutes but if it means she'll stay, he'll do it.

" Okay then."

"Okay."

That night, Bucky sleeps on the floor just like he does every night only this time there's a friend with him just a few meters away , close enough but not suffocating, and a dog resting on his chest, softly breathing gentle breaths.

That night Bucky sleeps on the floor just like he does every night only this night, there are no nightmares.

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from-seas-to-skies · 4 years

Text

The Teacher / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎

warnings: NSFW, teacher/student relationship, oral sex, spitting, sir kink, slut shaming, somewhat brat taming, age difference, unprotected sex

words: 5,772

(a/n): Bakugou is 30 in this; reader is younger (college age)

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

One, two, three, four… How long was it going to take until class ended again?

Looking up from your notebook, you stare up at the clock, the large, monotonous face seemingly glaring straight back at you. You don’t know how it happens, but time always moves so slow when it comes to your calculus class. Frankly, you’d rather ditch the class altogether, but if you wanted to graduate from college, you had to pass. Curse stupid curriculums and all that shit.

However, despite absolutely dreading having to stare at numbers for a solid hour and a half, there is a plus side to taking this dreaded class. In fact, it’s the very reason why you signed up for it in the first place. You’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, all from girls and guys alike, and you knew you had to see it up close and personal – rather, you had to see him.

Professor Bakugou.

Age thirty, drives a Land Rover, and, most importantly, single.

He’s about as dreamy as they come; a complete and utter Dreamboat Annie, absolutely huge in both height and stature, intelligent, and handsome. He’s only been a professor for a few years, but it’s been made apparent to the school that he’s worth it. Not only are his teaching methods and lectures incredible, but he’s turned out some of the highest grades your college has even seen. That itself is impress, and, combined with the hype of how hot he is, it’s no wonder people rush to take his classes.

So, when it came time for class schedules to come out, you were excited, needless to say. Despite having a general disliking to math in the first place, you figured this one guy could be what it takes to turn that idea around. Oh, but that was before you first laid your eyes on him.

Shit, you had heard that he was attractive – godly, even – but this? You weren’t expecting this. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon, and his sharp jawline could easily cut diamonds. It sounds cliché, that’s true, but you have no other way of putting it. Words did not do this man any justice.

At first, his constant yelling and crude demeanor were a total turn off. Professor Bakugou was essentially the teacher version of Gordon Ramsay, and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked that or not. However, as time continued, you actually grew accustomed to it. In fact, if he didn’t yell at least once during the class, you’d immediately figured he was having a bad day.

That’s when the thoughts began. Call it infatuation, a mindless crush, whatever, but you wanted Professor Bakugou. Your eyes soon began to watch his large hands flex while he wrote on the board rather than the content itself. You’d watch his forearms flex while he turned the page in his textbook, prominent veins inviting you for a better look. How you longed to touch him, to grab his sturdy shoulders or pull his wild hair. He always looked so good, clothes tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly.

You’d fantasize about the most random of scenarios, each of them usually ending up with him bending you over his desk at the front of the room. You liked colder days the best, especially since Professor Bakugou had the habit of wearing form-fitting sweaters that outlined his massive pecs or the swell of his arms. You wanted to make him feel better, to sit underneath the desk and suck him off while he taught the rest of the class. Those narrow hips had to be strong, and you’d be damned if you never got to experience their power at least once.

It’s almost as if Professor Bakugou had cast a spell over all of his students. Nearly all of them gushed about how great he was; and, if you were in the proper company, they exchanged fantasies or proclamations about how fucking gorgeous he was. You’d usually grow bitter at these types of conversations. It was a crush, for fuck’s sake. There was no need to get all pouty like some problematic schoolgirl.

Still, the thoughts wouldn’t go away, not when he taught, not when he yelled. His booming voice became a part of your wicked fantasies, wondering how it’d sound to hear him grunting your name or commanding you to spread his legs for him. Again and again, you told yourself that it was fine, that people develop crushes on their teachers all the time. It was only in the dead of night that you’d have your hand stuffed down your pants and mouth moaning his name into a pillow was when you regretted it. It was a phase, nothing more.

And yet, over two months into the semester, and these thoughts still won’t go away. The constant ticking of the clock brings you back down to Earth, your eyes focusing on the problems before you. Swallowing thickly, you loosen your hand, now just noticing how hard you’ve begun to clench your pencil. Your insides feel oddly warm, that pleasant, heavy feeling sitting behind your belly button. Dammit, you mentally curse, this is not the time to be getting distracted.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

If only class could end sooner.

“Right,” Professor Bakugou suddenly says from his desk, “this Friday, I’m holding a study session for the upcoming exam on Monday. There’s only going to be a limited number of seats available, so if you wanna join, here’s your chance.” With his words, he holds a blank sheet of notebook paper up, a rather bored expression on his face.

He must be tired, you think, unconsciously biting your bottom lip. But why?

Around you, students shuffle to the front of the class, waiting for a chance to scribble their names onto the paper. Some seem a bit more excited than others, obviously arching their backs or flipping their hair over their shoulders. With a scoff, you look back down to your work. Did they really think they could catch his attention like that? Yeah, so he doesn’t show off a ring on his finger, but it’s pretty likely that he has people throwing themselves at him all the time. Besides, Professor Bakugou is a strict guy; there’s no way he’d engage in a relationship with a student.

You really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. It’s pointless to pine after your teacher like that, especially with the risks that come along with getting involved with each other. Still, you can’t help but feel bitter. Professor Bakugou is a god that walks amongst men, so how could you not want somebody like him?

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed,” Professor Bakugou calls out. Dammit, you spaced out again. Maybe you should get that checked out?

With a sigh, you stuff your belongings into your backpack and draw to a stand. You wish it would be spring already; trudging through snow and ice is never fun, and the fact that your dorm is basically on the other side of campus makes it even more rough. Pulling your coat on and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you make way towards the classroom door, completely unaware of a set of eyes watching your every move.

“Man, this is impossible,” your best friend, Ashido Mina, groans. “I’m going to bomb this exam for sure!” Sprawled out on her stomach, she squirms on the floor, her face scrunching with her displeasure.

You, on the other hand, sit cross-legged across from her. Notebooks and math textbooks surround the two of you, your laptop and calculator at the ready. Bags of chips and pretzels sit to the side, along with abandoned coffee cups and empty water bottles. Professor Bakugou’s exams were notorious for being hard, but at the same time, if you payed attention in class and studied, you’d succeed. The thing is, though, that neither you nor Mina are the best when it comes to math.

“I thought you went to his study session?” you ask, glancing up from your own notebook.

Flashing you a pout, Mina nervously runs a hand through her fluffy hair. “Well, yeah, but you know how it goes! A secluded area with Professor Bakugou! It’s like a dream come true! It was hard to focus when he’s leaning over your shoulder like that…”

Rolling your eyes, you puff in amusement. “Really? Mina, you know what will happen if you fail this test.”

“Yeah, yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me! You would’ve done the exact same thing!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes you would’ve!” Mina exclaims, pointing an accusing finger your way. “Don’t pretend like you don’t ogle Professor Bakugou during class! He’s one hell of a hunk, isn’t he? I never knew college professors could be so hot!” she gushes, a giggle following her words. “And that study session – oh my god, I nearly thought I was going to heart attack when he helped me solve this one problem. He’s so warm and he smells great!”

You cock an eyebrow at her. “You were smelling our teacher?”

At that, Mina blows a raspberry and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not Kaminari, sweetheart. I have class. Besides, Professor Bakugou smells like caramel. Can you believe it? I wonder if he uses cologne or feminine soap.”

Caramel, eh? Now that’s something you can get behind.

“You want him to fuck you, right?”

Wait, what?

Narrowing your gaze at her, your brows knit closely together. “What kind of question is that?”

Mina rolls her eyes. “What, like you don’t think about it? Practically everyone on this campus has thought about it at some point or another? I mean, hello! He’s totally Daddy material. I’ve heard that he goes to the gym sometimes here on campus – turns out he’s huge.”

Huge. Of course this is what Mina chooses to focus on. You wish you had a spray bottle to squirt at her horny ass.

“And I don’t mean muscle wise,” Mina continues, a mischievous expression coming to her face. “I bet he tastes like candy.”

“Mina.”

“Why yes, Mr. Bakugou sir! I’ll gladly suck your fat cock for an A!”

“Mina.”

“His ass is really nice, too. I wouldn’t mind pegging him-“

“MINA.”

“What?”

You smack your forehead and groan as your hand trails down your face. “Are you going to study or not? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather graduate than work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life.”

Mina purses her lips at you in an excessive pout. “You’re such a fun sponge, holy shit. I think you need a good dicking down by Professor Bakugou. Maybe then you’d stop staring after him all the time during class.”

Your face heats up at her words, but there’s no way you’re owning up to that. Okay, so yeah, maybe getting fucked by him would be a dream come true, but you’re more realistic than that. “And you’re not concerned at all that he’s our teacher? You know, like he could lose his job and you could be expelled? That doesn’t bother you? At all?”

Mina shrugs. “Meh.”

“Woooow…. You really are shameless.”

“Hey, you win some, you lose some. If I could get that man to put a ring on my finger, then I’d be okay with it.”

“Yeah, because you definitely want to bring your math professor home. Uh huh, great one. Tell me how that goes.”

With a grunt, Mina rolls over and sits up. “Whatever, man. I’m hungry, so I’m going to go down to the dining hall. Wanna come with?”

Glancing at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand, you see that it’s only 5:15. True, you could get a bite to eat, but you’d rather stay back and finish a few more problems. “I think I’ll join up with you later,” you tell Mina.

She nods her head and offers you a small smile. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” Gathering up her things, she unceremoniously shoves them into her backpack and salutes you with a goodbye. After she pulls the door shut behind her, you turn back to the task at hand.

It shouldn’t be this hard to solve these last couple of problems, but your brain is really starting to feel the struggle. A dull ache is already forming between your eyeballs, and you truly wonder if you’re going to make it through this or not. Maybe you should take a break, or at least give your eyes a rest. Still, that little stubborn streak in you tells you to carry on. You only have a few more problems left, and you’re so close to finally finishing!

As you set to work, the digits on your alarm clock change as time drags on. Okay, so maybe you’re demanding too much of yourself. Your brain is absolutely fried, and your headache is spreading. Glancing back up at the clock, luminous green lines glare a 5:31. Jeez, it’s only been sixteen minutes since you last checked, yet it seems as though hours have passed. You really want to finish this study session, but the last problem is throwing you in for a loop.

You’ve already scoured your notes and the textbook for how to go about the problem, but your mind is drawing up with a blank. It has to be because you’re tired, right? It’s not that hard… Or is it?

“Dammit,” you mutter, sitting back and pressing your palms flat against the floor. Again, you look at the clock. Frankly, you don’t want to spend all night pouring over this, and you don’t want to skip dinner, either. You know for a fact that Mina will beat your ass for skipping out on food. “Screw it.”

Scrambling off the floor, you throw a thick coat on and slide on your sneakers. Professor Bakugou sometimes has the habit of frequenting his office during the weekends (or so you’ve heard), and you desperately need to know how to solve this problem. Chances are something similar will be on the exam, and you want to get as good of a grade as possible. Plus, if he is there…

You swallow thickly. Now is not the time to let Mina’s previous words get to you.

And so, with your notebook tucked underneath an arm, you take off.

It’s a damned shame that his office is practically on the other side of campus, but you figure it wouldn’t be too bad to get your body moving after spending so much time hunched over. Now that you think about, you could just email him, but you’re not sure how quick he’d respond. This is a dire moment. Okay, maybe not, but still. Maybe you want to see Professor Bakugou. Maybe.

You’re thankful when you finally enter the building, free of the flurries of snow and the seeping chill. Stomping your feet free from snow, you look around, creeped out yet fascinated by the silent, empty halls. You doubt very many people are here besides lingering staff and the janitors. One could only hope that Professor Bakugou is frequenting his office.

As you draw closer and closer to his office, your footsteps bounce off the walls, reminding you of how alone you are. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he’s even going to be in his office, yet your heart pounds frantically in your chest. If he isn’t there, you’ll just simply turn around and stalk back to your dorm and hope for the best. If he is there, well, you’re not entirely sure what you should say.

He’s your teacher, dammit. It shouldn’t be this hard going up to him and asking him for help. It’s literally his job to help students out; nothing more, nothing less. Still, Mina’s words ring throughout your mind. It’s just a crush, you remind yourself. Stop getting so worked up about it.

There it is, just straight up ahead – Professor Bakugou’s office.

Like the other offices lining the hall, it’s made from a heavy wood, a frosted window place in the top half with Professor Bakugou’s name printed on it. A simple door like this shouldn’t intimidate you so much, but yet it does. All you have to do is knock on it, wait for a possible response, and then go from there. However, now that you’re in front of it, you somewhat hope he’s not there. Your palms are growing clammy and your throat feels fuzzy.

“Here goes nothing,” you tell yourself, reaching up and rapping on the door.

For a moment, nothing happens. Perhaps Lady Luck has decided to spare some mercy on you, after all. Releasing a pent-up breath you didn’t know you were even holding, you prepare to step back and walk away, but then a muffled come in sounds through the door.

Oh, shit.

You wince as your cowardice floods you with a renewed force. There’s no way you can just leave now, not if you want Professor Bakugou potentially chasing you down. Taking in a deep breath, you turn the brass knob and poke your head inside. “Uh, Professor Bakugou?”

Oh, shit.

There he is, sitting behind an oak desk, hunched down over a stack of papers. He holds up a single finger, a signal for you to give him a moment. Immediately, your eyes skim over his exposed forearms, skim over the tight black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. Rolled sleeves, watch on wrist, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, he’s just dripping with classy sexiness.

The steady tick tock, tick tock fills the otherwise silent room. It grates on your already wired nerves, mocks you for just standing there, waiting. You can’t help but glance at its face – 5:49. It’s already dark out, winter’s everlasting darkness sapping the Earth’s light. Stepping fully inside the room, you gently shut the door behind you, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.

After another moment or so, he finally clicks his pen closed, tosses it onto the desk, and leans back in his chair. “Oi – what do you want?”

Removing your notebook from underneath your arm, you hold it out for him to take. “I was… I was wondering if you could explain how to work out this problem?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Professor Bakugou sits upright and glances at what you’ve written. “We discussed this during the study session on Friday.” His eyes dart up to yours. “I’m surprised you weren’t there.”

Is he singling you out right now? It feels like he’s singling you out right now. But wait, doesn’t that also mean that he noticed you not being there? He’s just saying that to say it, right? …Right?

“There was a lot on my mind,” you say softly.

Professor Bakugou sighs. “Alright, come here.” Maybe it’s the gruffness of his voice, but the simple command nearly has you whimpering on the spot. Jesus, you need to get your act together!

“Of course, sir,” you reply, the title subconsciously rolling off your tongue. Skirting around the desk, you come to his side, unaware of him shifting in his seat.

“It’s really not that hard if you put your damned brain to use,” he grunts, picking his pen back up. You notice how the tendons in his hand flex with the subtle movement; actually, now that you’re up close in personal, you can clearly see the veins racing up his forearms, the sheen of blond hairs.

Warmth seems to radiate off of him, just like how Mina said. You wonder if he gets hot easily, or if that’s just the way he is. Either way, you shimmy the slightest bit closer to him, eager to ward off the chill that still clings to you from the outside. He goes into great detail about how to go through each step surrounding the problem; you lean over his shoulder as he goes through the steps, the heat emanating from his skin drawing you in more and more. With each breath, the scent of caramel floods your senses. You’re almost half tempted to press your nose to his nape and get a better smell, but that’d just be creepy. Plus, even if you did that, Professor Bakugou could probably pick you up and literally throw you out of his office.

Still, despite knowing the risk, your mind takes off, just like it usually does whenever you’re in his presence. It would just be so easy to squeeze his thick arms, to run your fingers through his thick blonde hair. Maybe you could push the collar of his turtleneck down, expose his neck and bite the pulse. It’s almost ridiculous just how big he is, how easily he could overpower you. A familiar warmth floods your system, encasing your insides and clutching onto your heart. This is bad – very, very bad.

“Oi, what the hell are you staring at?” Professor Bakugou barks.

Snapping yourself back to attention, you notice him staring at you, his glasses now off his handsome face. If possible, he’s even more attractive up close; thick lashes, full lips, a slight gleam in his eyes that demand power and control. He almost looks entirely different like this, face lax instead of fixed with a scowl. Good lord, you really are whipped for him.

“Oh, um, sorry,” you ramble, eyes going wide. “It’s just that your hair looks really… fluffy…?”

“…Hah?”

You quickly avert your eyes. “Nevermind…”

“You know,” Professor Bakugou starts, voice low, “you stare at me a lot during class, too. You’re not very subtle.”

You wince at his words. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about-“

Rolling his eyes, he scoffs and tosses down his pen. “You’re not majoring in theatre, are you? Because you suck at acting.” He flashes you a cocky smirk when you look back to him. “Just admit it – you like what you see, don’t ya? Can’t say I blame you.”

Okay, wow, cocky much. Yeah, sure, he’s an absolute babe, but wouldn’t you think he’d be a bit more… modest?

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Didn’t know my math professor thought so highly of himself.”

“Tch. Looks like you got a damn mouth on you, after all. Well, if you’re done undressing me with your eyes, do you want to learn how to do this problem or not? I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll let it slide just this once since I like you.”

Wait, wait, hold up. Did he just say he likes you?

“You’re a good student,” Professor Bakugou continues. “Even if you do focus on me more than my lecture.”

Is this how the conversation was supposed to play out? Because damn you’re nearly shaking, and you still have your coat on. He knows too much, dammit. He’s known this entire time and he’s playing you.

“And yet you could’ve easily told me to stop,” you shoot right back, sick of being prosecuted like this. Sure, it might be a bad idea to pick a fight with a teacher, but this is outside of classroom hours; and, frankly, he can kiss your ass. Crude demeanor or not, you’re not about to let this man push you around.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

No. There’s no way he just said that. This big-headed narcissist is relishing in this, isn’t he? Bastard.

“Hate to break it to you, Professor, but almost everyone stares at you like that,” you tell him. You realize you just admitted it to the accusation, but there’s no point in defending it anymore.

“Like I give a shit about the others? Really? You’re gonna talk about them?” He scoffs his amusement and leans back in his chair, thick arms crossing over his chest. “Did you come here to ask me questions about the exam or did you just want to be with me all by yourself?”

You hesitate. Is that really the reason you came here tonight? The whole way here you debated this yourself, Mina’s words circling around your head. No, you’re smarter than this. It’s a bad idea to get involved with a teacher – it’s wrong.

“I’m not going to lie or deny the truth,” Professor Bakugou continues, his voice dropping to an uncharacteristically low pitch. “I’m also not stupid. You’re just as scared as me, aren’t you? Of the repercussions.”

Your mouth falls agape. What is he going on about…?

Slowly, Professor Bakugou sits back up, his face getting dangerously close to yours. Hot breath fans over the bottom half of your face. His eyes are heavily lidded, his lashes kissing his cheeks. “I’m not going to force anything on you,” he murmurs. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Oh my god.

Unable to resist the close proximity anymore, you shoot forward, your hands landing on the arms of the chair; Professor Bakugou’s lips are softer than you anticipated, but in no way is he gentle. Right away he’s clutching the back of your neck, dragging you forward so you’re settled on his lap. The arms of the chair pinch into your thighs at the tight fit, but you could care less. You’re on Professor Bakugou’s lap, you have his tongue in your mouth, his hands landing on your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” he growls, his hands slipping under your shirt and gliding over your lower back. You arch into his touch, a breathless moan slipping past your lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you pant.

“I know.”

Fuck, it’s all so good, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth and hands unbuttoning your jeans. A startled noise erupts from your throat as a large hand slides into the front of your pants, cupping your crotch. You buck into his touch, all sense dissipating from your thoughts as you fervently grind into his heated palm. There’s a clutter of paper and office supplies as they hit the floor. Before you know it, you’re rising from the chair, your ass landing on the wooden desk instead.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Professor Bakugou grits. Your ass is barely on the desk by the time he’s done dragging you forward, your jeans aggressively getting yanked off, your underwear following suit. Your thighs instinctively snap shut at the cold air making contact with your bared skin, but strong hands pry them apart, fingertips kneading into the flesh. “I wanna make you cum with my tongue.”

“Wai- Ah! Fuck!” you cry out, your fingers clutching onto the edge of the desk as his head ducks down, his mouth latching onto your sex. Until now, you weren’t even aware that you were dripping with arousal. Sinful noises spill from between your legs as Professor Bakugou fucks you with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive parts.

“God, you’re such a slut.”

Smack.

You cry out as he brings a hand down on the innermost part of your thigh; your nerves quake, your blood pumps wildly through your veins. Again, he slaps your thigh, a growl tearing itself from his chest as he looks up, his eyes catching yours.

“Say it.”

Smack.

“I – I’m a slut,” you babble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Smack.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m a slut!” you exclaim, voice cracking.

“I expect you to refer to me properly,” he says darkly, his pupils dilating to the point where you could barely see his irises. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

A single smirk is thrown your way before his mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. His moves are quick, sensual. It’s clear he’s experienced, and you don’t blame him. Just look at him for Christ’s sake. The man is basically sex on legs, all nicely wrapped up in a turtleneck sweater and a simple pair of slacks. The pleasure only heightens as his fingers come into play, prodding at your hole; the tips just barely push past the muscle, leaving you moaning even louder and clutching harder on the desk. Your fingernails scratch the surface, the lacquer coming off.

“Tasty little brat, aren’t ya?” he drawls. Your entire body jolts as he spits on your sex. “I could get used to doing this.”

“Please, sir,” you plead, desperation filling your voice. You want his mouth back on you. You want to cum. “Please, it feels so good…”

Professor Bakugou clicks his tongue. “Shit, you’re even obedient. How nice.” He redoubles his efforts, then, wet noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing.

“Shit, shit, oh my god,” you babble, your body tensing. Still, his tongue digs in just right and there goes your sanity, flying out the window as you cum.

A deep chuckle fills your ears as Professor Bakugou sucks it down; drawing away, he flashes you his tongue, your arousal coating his tongue before he makes a show of swallowing the last bit of it. Wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, he draws to a stand. The tent in his slacks is obvious, the front of it darker than the rest. Your insides squeeze around nothing, the idea of making him get like that making you feel hotter than before.

You’re hypnotized as he pulls his hands away. His movements are slow and methodical, the clink of his belt echoing throughout the room. Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip as he leisurely undoes his belt and slacks. Blood rushes through your ears, your mind a complete mess. You feel dizzy with want, with the need to sink your teeth into the swell of his pectoral, to claw the plains of his back.

All the air is sucked from your lungs when he finally pulls his cock out, the head flushed a deep red. Your eyes trail over the prominent veins, the fat bead of precum pushing its way out the tip. Fuck, he’s huge, both in length and girth. Whoever told Mina that he was big wasn’t lying. Your legs subconsciously spread even wider, a silent plead for him to fill you up and fuck you raw.

“Tell me you want this,” he husks. He does the honor of unzipping your coat and slipping it off your shoulders before easing you onto your back. The cold from the wood permeates through your shirt, brings a new wave of goosebumps to your flesh.

“Only if you tell me the same thing,” you croak. “Do you fuck all of your students who walk in through that door?”

“No,” Professor Bakugou blatantly says, and you can tell he’s being earnest. “It’s wrong of me to think so, but I’ve been wanting to do something with you since I saw you. It sounds like some sappy bullshit, but it’s the truth. I was too much of a pussy to ask you out for a coffee.”

Something about hearing him confess his feelings to you sets your heart alight. A slight smile tugs at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Tch. And you’re a fucking brat.”

Hunching over you, a large hand plants itself by your head while the other guides his cock to your awaiting hole. A shaky breath passes through your mouth as he pushes himself in; the stretch burns, his thick cock filling you up in a way that you didn’t even know was possible.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes. “Look at you, sucking in my cock like that. What a good little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I bet you touched yourself while thinking about this very moment, about me fucking you on my desk like this.” A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs your legs and throws him over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. “Gotta fuck you nice and deep, right? Because that’s how a slut like you likes it.”

Like this, with your knees almost touching your ears, the tip of his cock hits your soft spot. A pathetic whimper comes from you as he grinds his cock into you, his eyes carefully watching your erotic expressions, figuring out what you like best.

Before long, he’s fucking into with vigor, his hips moving restlessly. His cock pounds into you mercilessly, the slap of skin against skin mixing with your cries. His mouth is at your throat, teeth skimming your jugular before he latches onto your thundering pulse. You helplessly claw at his shoulders, your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt. You’re so fucking full, your velvety walls clamping around his cock selfishly. A blend of curses and yes, fuck, you fucking slut fill your ears; he’s panting hard, a slight chuckle breaking through every once in a while.

“Fucking let everyone know who’s fucking you this good,” he grits. “Jesus, look at the mess you’re making…”

“Professor Bakugou!” you whine. “Your cock feels so good… Fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes-“

“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki.”

Katuski.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. It settles on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.

It’s when you cum that you shout his name, your walls tightening around him harshly while your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. A load groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as he follows suit shortly after, his hips moving erratically as his cum splashes against your insides.

The both of you are sweating, panting messes by the time he finally pulls out. You whimper as you clench around nothing, the emptiness a bit too much to bear. Surprisingly, Professor Bakugou – no, Katsuki – is gentle as he cleans you up, his free hand rubbing your side. Swallowing your pride, you clear your throat.

His eyes flick up, land on yours. “What.”

“Do you…” You worry your bottom lip. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?”

Katsuki snorts. “Wow, got a real fucking charmer here, don’t I? How about you come to my place instead and I make you a proper dinner. You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

As if on cue, your stomach growls. Well, you did deny Mina’s offer for dinner, after all. You smile nervously and give him a shrug.

Chest swelling (with pride, you assume), Katsuki flashes you a cocky smile. “I’m a damn good cook, brat. I’ll cook a meal that will have you weak in the knees.”

“Maybe… Maybe you could finally show me how to do that problem?” you offer.

He rolls his eyes. “Will you finally pay attention this time or will I have to pound it into your brain?”

#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha smut #bnha smut #empress writes #tw age difference

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an-annyeoing-writer · 3 years

Text

vulnerability. – prologue

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 6th May 2021

Word count: 2 653

Warnings: dark thoughts, general angst (in this chapter, it gets lighter later)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Prologue

“What do you need?”

Another question to which, despite your sincere effort, you are unable to find an answer; spoken in a cool, collected tone that makes it no easier to adjust to. You stare blankly at your hands, folded in your lap in a position that was supposed to be modest, but right now – betrays insecurity and uncertainty.

“Do I have to answer?” you ask quietly, struggling to find the right thing to say; your mind gets as blank as your stare, the stress deeming you unable to create a reply.

“Do you want to waste my time? If I ask a question, I expect an answer.” The man taps the surface of the close-by table, a clear message goes through – don’t test my patience. The notebook that he holds on his lap, with his other hand over it, hasn’t been written in for the past few minutes. The two of you are sitting on tall bar chairs, facing each other. You wish the tall table on the side, imitating the bar counter, was actually in between the two of you – maybe you’d feel a bit more secure with this form of a barrier.

You don’t want to waste his time, but you feel like you’re wasting yours right now. It’s as if you were at a job interview that completely didn’t align with what you had expected it to be like. It’s the moment you feel like the interviewer is only asking the questions out of politeness but does not pay much attention to your answers, and you know your case is a lost one. That’s exactly the way you feel right now – as if he’s at this point only tormenting you for the mere fun of it, although it doesn’t look like he has any fun in this at all; his face is stern and ridden of emotions. Terrifying.

“I think I need stability, and safety…” you try to utter something sensible. “But not boredom…”

You feel silly as soon as these words leave you, and, as you expect, they earn no reaction from the man. You soon realize he must have heard such things dozens of times before you – it’s a textbook answer.

“Some of your replies contradict each other” the man suddenly states.

“I didn’t lie” you argue back.

“Maybe not, but I’d recommend therapy.”

You only continue to stare blankly. Such words don’t faze you anymore – partly because you started to grow indifferent to whatever is spoken in this conversation, and partly because you’ve heard these words enough of times, spoken by your family, friends, even classmates or strangers. It’s embarrassing, but you’ve learned to push such thoughts away every time they surfaced; and this time, as well, you knew you wouldn’t think about them anymore as soon as the topic changed.

“Yeah, I know” you mutter, only for the sake of having an answer. You feel bitter; the case is lost for sure, you can tell – what he keeps you here for anymore, you don’t know.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Uh… No, not really.”

“Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Of course. So many things, so many thoughts that appeared in the anticipation for this meeting. Excitement that slowly died down; you remember the questions you wanted to ask, as well as the ones that emerged during the conversation itself. Yet, you don’t think that any of them are worth being spoken aloud anymore.

“I don’t think so.”

“I see.”

The man reaches for his notebook and writes a word or two inside, then tears the page out; you flinch at that. You can’t tell what’s written on it as he places the piece of paper on the table between the two of you, the clear side upwards, while the text is underneath. You stare at it with new-found curiosity.

“I need to leave for a few minutes. Write your number there, or e-mail address, whichever you prefer. I’ll be back.”

He stands up without asking for your reply and heads towards the bathroom; you only follow him with your stare as he disappears in the crowd – it’s Friday evening, and the bar, The Queen of Spades, is as full as on any typical Friday evening, except there’s an aura of loneliness surrounding you. You’re a bit uncomfortable in the bar chair – you’d rather sit in the leather sofa that’s behind you.

The leather sofa on which you saw Byun Baekhyun for the first time.

* * *

The Queen of Spades was a quite spacious, but not too well known bar that your friend had been promising to take you to thousands of times before a good occasion actually came up – the end of your winter exam session, all exams passed by a miracle. The bar was just fifteen minutes from your house, and you were astonished the moment you entered through the glass doors, feeling as though you went back in time by a few decades. Wooden furniture, warm lights, soft tunes of jazz and RnB – not your vibe, but one that made you fall in love with this place at the first sight.

However, as much as the interiors were dazzling, there was one more thing that caught your attention the most – the man sitting in the corner of the bar, on a leather couch with only the tall counter-like table on the side, probably too tall to reach to, but he wasn’t drinking anyway. He sat with a middle-aged woman, leaning gently into his side, casually and trustfully. The leather collar on her neck did not match her age-accurate attire, and that was exactly what caught your attention in her whole visage.

Whether the pair knew that they’re observed or not, you couldn’t tell – and, in fact, it seemed as though they don’t necessarily care. When the man’s hand found itself on the woman’s leather collar and pulled it backwards tightly, a small scowl on his face, you freaked out; at least until you saw her smile softly, no attempt to struggle, no worry, as her face reddened with the restraint of blood flow that the motion must have caused. Their eyes met. The man’s gaze softened. He released the collar and held her chin in his hands, and soon, they were resting again.

You stared at the scene, mesmerized. But it would be inappropriate to pay it any more attention; yet, you felt intrigued. You wondered what else would you see if you came back to the bar another time.

And, in fact, he was there the second time as well, just as you were with your classmate, trying to listen to her personal stories, but with your glance drifting off to the man’s direction.

He was with a woman, again, but one that could have been around your own age. It confused you, but, without any other cues, you did not want to judge. This one, also, had a collar on her neck – or more like a necklace, made of chain with pearls tied into it, a dainty and girly piece. The man patted her head gently as she rested with her eyes closed, maybe even sleeping. Nothing else happened.

And the third time you went there, alone this time, after a particularly long day at work, hoping to get some of the stress off your shoulders, you sat by the bar alone, and therefore, did not need to worry about annoying the person you were with – you could stare to your heart’s content; at least until someone would notice and find you weird or creepy.

It was a Friday evening again, so you concluded he comes here regularly. Although the bar was quite crowded, no one sat by the table next to the leather couch, probably not wanting to disrupt the pair – two men sitting together now. It did catch you by surprise. This one’s collar was made of silver squares linked together. It looked simple, but elegant. With a little bit of tequila, for once you felt bold enough to shoot the bartender your question.

“Yeah, oh, him? Baekhyun, he’s local. Why? You’re interested? Well, if you really are, he’s not into one night stands.”

Neither were you; you didn’t want to jump into such things abruptly, not at all. You wanted to know more first.

“He’s not into relationships, from what I know. Or more like, his relationships aren’t what they may be to you. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then just leave it, there’s other fish in this sea, just look around you.”

But you weren’t interested in other fish; this one spiked your interest and you just needed to know more. Your motive was obvious, and so, the bartender kept talking, taking pleasure in enlightening the silly kid that you were in his eyes.

“Ever heard of BDSM? If yes, then you’ll understand. If no, then leave it be.”

Your first impression, the thought you had in the first moment, was finally confirmed – it was like opening a cake you’ve only seen in the packaging and finding out it looks exactly as the packaging’s shape hinted. You chose this cake because of the shape, and now you feel even more excited about seeing how it tastes. And you did, in fact, truly want to devour it.

“So, you want to get on with him?”

You knew you did. There was no doubt in that. The bartender, who initially seemed persistent in discouraging you, suddenly seemed to enjoy the role of a sort of broker.

“I can set you two up.”

* * *

That’s how your story led you to this particular point; to the dark, old-styled walls of The Queen of Spadesthat you’ve started to memorize well by now, to the table you’ve only observed from afar, to the man whom you also could only look at, until today.

And you feel like the figurative cake is now made of nasty, bitter chocolate, and empty inside.

You glance once again in the direction in which the man disappeared – the bathroom. You probably have a few more minutes to relax. Your gaze lands on the torn piece of paper.

It shouldn’t be an issue if you decided to have a look – right? He left it in front of you, maybe even for this particular reason, for you to check if he hasn’t written anything wrong about you. Whatever is written in there… You can’t think anymore as you whip the paper to the other side.

[F/n], 24, fem. & stud. available weekends mentally unstable, possible childhood trauma sensitive

No lies are detected.

Moreover, you feel as though each statement is awfully accurate; you are sensitive, and the words hurt. You feel reduced to these few random phrases, as if your whole personality consists just of these traits.

Mentally unstable.

Childhood trauma.

Sensitive.

You angrily turn the sheet back over and make sure the number you just wrote is correct, although you’re not so sure if you wantit to be correct. You consider changing it to a wrong one. Or standing up and leaving. You’re angry and frustrated, and lost. Your desperate need for this deal to work out collides with your desperate need to go back to your safe zone; the one in which you can rely on fiction and your own imagination, and where no other person can hurt you. You could just stand up and leave, for sure; who would try to stop you? Do you even have the guts to stay? You feel disrespected; you wish to disappear.

Yet, you don’t find yourself doing any of these things. You sit in your place, staring at the sheet blankly, until familiar steps echo nearby and the man takes his place again. The time for making decision has run out. Byun Baekhyun sits in front of you again, staring at you intensely.

“Did you look?” His tone is accusatory, and a bit angry. Were you not supposed to look, after all…?

“N-no” you instantly reply. Your voice falters, you know you’re not a good liar. But he can’t blame you for something you won’t admit; you’ll leave, and you’ll be safe, he won’t be able to say anything more hurtful anymore.

“I see.”

The lie eats at you; you fiddle nervously as he takes the paper and slowly puts it back in his notebook. He doesn’t look at you while doing so, but you watch him full of nerves. You can’t lie, you never could.

“I-I did” you utter after a moment of silence.

He freezes in spot and you start fearing again; his eyes raise to meet yours, and you don’t dare to reciprocate the gaze. However, you can tell he’s not angry – whether it’s pure disdain or disappointment, you don’t know. But, at the very least, you can tell you won’t be yelled at, and it’s enough to be a relief.

“I’m sorry” you add in a mumble filled with shame. Your gaze lowers even further.

Byun Baekhyun doesn’t say anything about it. He observes you in silence for a while, as if deep in thought, and you don’t know if you’re being judged or analyzed, you do your best not to let your mind drift towards the areas of insecurity and fear.

He puts his things back in the leather bag he carries – the notebook, phone, leather gloves. Seems that the meeting is coming to an end. It’s not even 8 PM.

“Will you find your way home? You need a drive?”

“I live nearby, I’ll be okay.”

“Can I walk you, then?”

“Sure…”

It’s slowly getting dark and you don’t find it in yourself to oppose the offer. More than to run away, you feel an urge to just give in, and you’d rather he yells at you for lying than asks you anymore questions; you’re worn out, both mentally and physically – with your muscles cramping for keeping them tense for so long.

No more words are said, though, there’s no yelling and no accusations. He acts professionally the moment you leave the bar, letting you lead the way and only staying by your side, not too close even, no touch and no words – as if he’s following you rather than accompanying.

Throughout your whole conversation, you didn’t see him smile even once. It pains you. But you slowly come to the conclusion that you haven’t necessarily done anything wrong, and it’s just the way it is.

“Thank you for today” you utter politely. You want to run back into your apartment and be safe again. “And thank you for walking me.” Sorry for wasting your time, too, you also wish to add, but you don’t want to victimize yourself; you don’t want to believe that you’re at fault for it, either – apologizing would be like taking the whole blame upon yourself, and you don’t want to accept that.

“No problem. Thank you for your time. Sleep well.”

He opens the door for you but doesn’t look at you or say anything more. You utter one more small “thank you” and “goodnight” before entering your small apartment again.

The day finally comes to an end and you want nothing more than to rest it off in the bunk bed of your bedroom – the sweet and safe comfort zone that never betrays you, never plays with your feelings, and always welcomes you with its warmth.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: I know it feels a bit sad thus far, but bear with me, it will get better soon!

Next (Chapter 1.)

#exowritersnet #kdiarynet #bbh-net #exosnet #exo baekhyun #exo bbh #bbh x reader #exo #byun baekhyun #bbh #exo fanfiction #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun x reader #vg: vulnerability #vg: exo #vg: baekhyun #vg: series

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jinkicake · 4 years

Text

Pucker Up

Bakugo, Dabi, Denki with a s/o who naturally pouts all the time.

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Dabi x Reader

Kaminari Denki x Reader

Hi Anon~ I hope you like this,,, I really love writing for mha characters... they’re just so much fun!!! Anyway- have any of you guys read the manga lately because all I want to say is what the hell we gonna do now.

WC- 2,160

~~~

Bakugo Katsuki

Bakugo is such a mf….. he’d see your pouty lips and his heart would skip a beat but his brain would be like RAGE

How dare you look so cute? Are you trying to make him fall for you? That’s Bakugo’s inner thoughts

And the entire time he is thinking this he is also hardcore staring at you, like his eyes are literally never leaving your face and someone has to snap him out of it

“Yo, Kacchan you good?” Denki would have to wave his hand in front of his friends face and once Bakugo regains his consciousness he would smack Denki into next week LMFAOOO

Deep down all Bakugo wants to do is kiss you, literally kiss you and leave you speechless,,,, but is he going to tell you this? NO!

If you ever catch him staring you’re going to have to ask him about it,,,,,

Bakugo would become a stupid blushy mess like ‘I wasn’t looking at you, why would I be staring at you?!’ And you’d just be like okay….

I feel like one day when he catches your lips all pouty and your cheeks puffed out, he will just kiss the shit out of you….. of course not in front of other people, only when it’s like in his own room

Bakugo is super protective so whenever you make that cute face he will stand behind you and glare at whoever glances at you, he will literally pounce on Todoroki if he even breathes in your direction

He’s so irritating, Bakugo would literally just drag you up to his room and keep you all to himself in private,,,,, he’d be so cute and cuddly with you and tell you how cute he thinks you look ahhhhh~~

You continue to stare down at your homework, your cheeks puffed out in frustration as you try to work out the complicated problem.

“Midoriya, I don’t understand,” Uraraka whines and you purse your lips in thought. At the same time of your small study session, Bakugo walks back into the dorms after his personal training. Your boyfriend feels his eye twitch when he notices who you’re sitting with but it is nothing compared to the rage he encounters when he notices your expression. Bakugo storms up to your table and rips your notebook away from your hands before walking away to the elevators.

“Let's go!” He huffs and you let out a loud sigh, sending Midoriya and Uraraka a sympathetic smile as you stand up from your chair. You meet up with Bakugo in the elevator and grab your notebook from him, not noticing the way he skips your floor and takes you to his. One of his large hands wraps around your wrist as he drags you to his door.

Honestly, at this point, you just go along with whatever Bakugo does.

“If you want to study, ask me to help you instead.” He mumbles and sits down at his chair, the notebook that was once in your hands is now on his desk. “Come here,” Bakugo orders softly, you roll your eyes and stand next to his desk but Bakugo has other ideas. The blond wraps his arms around you and brings you down onto his lap, his chin rests on your shoulder while one arm is wrapped around your waist. “Is this the problem you couldn’t solve?” He asks curiously and points the question you were stuck on earlier.

“Yeah,” You confirm and Bakugo immediately dives into the problem, his pencil already working out the solution. You watch and nod at everything he says, taking in all the information. The blond glances at you after he finishes answering it and notices the way you’re pouting.

“Damn it,” He curses before tightly gripping your chin. Bakugo tilts your face and swiftly swoops in to kiss you, his lips gently press against yours and you smile softly at the action. When he finally pulls away, he refuses to make eye contact with you and instead goes back to another problem you couldn’t solve. However, he notices the way you’re looking at him smugly. “stop looking at me like that.”

Dabi

Dabi would always make fun of you, he’d probably secretly take photos of you while you do it because he thinks it’s really cute

If he is sitting next to you he will poke your cheeks or grip your chin and force you to look at him so he can kiss the pout off your face

He doesn’t want anyone else to see this cute little habit of yours, he wants to keep it relatively his

If he ever sees you pouting like that in front of the other league of losers, he would probably flick your cheek really hard or simply toss his jacket into your face

He’d never straight out tell you how he feels because,,,, Dabi and feelings of affection don’t really mix together well

Dabi would really, really, like it when you pout and puff your cheeks out. He’d be so captivated by the simple expression and at first, his heart would swell but then his mind would wander and he’d get some spicy thoughts

Please, Dabi would kiss the life out of you to try and get you to understand what he is feeling…. Doesn’t really get the point across but the thought is there

Over time I think this face would turn him on LMFAOO like at first he thought it was the sweetest face he had ever seen but now all he can think about is his cum in your mouth

That face really makes him powerless and it confuses him to no end like why does Dabi want to cuddle you but also fuck your brains out at the same time? How can he understand that? Ah, Dabi and his feelings fuck I wanted to make this soft

Dabi would probably coo and say the cutest things whenever he sees your cheeks puff out,,, like he turns into a new person LOL

“Aren’t they so cute?!” Toga gushes loudly and you stare at her phone, squinting to see the two students in the picture.

“Umm Toga how old are they?” You ask with wide eyes at the high school uniforms they have on.

“Who cares,” She coos and sighs lovingly at the photo, you try not to give it much thought because truthfully she is only a year or two older than them.

“You like her?” You point at the girl with pink cheeks and Toga nods. “And him?” You move your finger to the dark-haired boy and she squeals at his face. “Right,”

“(Y/N) not all of us like boys with daddy issues!” Toga spits and you dart your eyes towards Dabi, mentally wanting to smack your friend upside the head.

“We all have a different taste,” You soothe and Toga happily begins to show you more photos. Dabi glances up from his phone to see what the hell you two are doing, his blue eyes freeze over your face and he can’t look away. The way your cheeks are puffed out and your lips are formed in a delicate little pout makes Dabi shift around in his seat, subtly pulling at the crotch of his jeans.

“I even got some of her blood,” Toga states happily and you look up at Dabi with a confused expression on your face but nonetheless go back to looking at the photos.

“That’s really romantic?” You praise and Toga kisses your cheek.

“I know!”

Dabi glances around the relatively empty room but he notices how strangers keep looking at you, it makes his blood boil. He shakes off his jacket and places it over his lap while glaring at your face as if it could make your pout go away.

“Oh, so you met them in the woods and that’s where you stabbed them?” You ask and Toga grabs your hands in hers.

“It’s a great start, isn’t it?” She asks, her eyes shining happily.

“Y-Yeah, that’s a start-“ You confirm but are cut off when you get a faceful of a familiar jacket, the rough material makes you wince.

“Ooh, headshot!” Shigaraki snickers from behind his switch and you blow air into your cheeks.

“Dabi,” You whine at your boyfriend and he rolls his eyes before standing up from his chair, he pulls you away from Toga and makes his way to the door. Dabi doesn’t say anything as he drags you out into the alley, purposely slamming the door on his way out. His fingers run along your jaw before roughly cupping your face and forcing you to look up to him. The look in your pleasant eyes causes a growl to rumble in his chest.

“Now, I have you all to myself.”

Kaminari Denki

I love Denki, please he is literally the cutest and one of the funniest mfs in the show

When he first notices your pout and puffy cheeks, he might internally pass out like mans will pass away

Then he comes back to life and pulls you into a close hug, holding you against his chest as he gushes how cute you look….. bruh he would have no shame doing this in front of everyone

Denki has no issue, no problem, at all with letting everyone know how cute his s/o is…. In fact, I think he wants everything to know how cute you are

The next time you get all pouty and stuff he’d be like “Kirishima! Look! That’s the face I was telling you about!!!” And then he’d cup your cheeks and push your lips together to pucker them like a fish “Aren’t they just the cutest?”

Of course, Kirishima is like ‘yeah totally!!!’ because he is a supportive friend but he’ll still send you a sympathetic smile ah I love kirishima so much he is such a sweetie

Denki is already clingy, always holding onto you but whenever he sees your pout he becomes even clinger like he holds onto you so tight

If you’re ever in an argument with him just pout and puff your cheeks out, it is an automatic win for you because it literally melts down all of Denki’s anger and he forgets what you were even arguing about

Literally, even if you were wrong Denki would apologize over and over, cupping your cheeks and kissing all over your face

Denki goes into Ultimate Lover Boy when he sees that cute face of yours

“And then I told Mineta, ‘of course it will work’ but then the plan totally backfired.” Your boyfriend sighs into your neck, his hands are wrapped around your waist. You are currently sitting between Denki’s legs on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest, as you silently continue to work on your homework. “Oh, you want to hear another story?” Denki nips at the collar of your shirt and pulls it gently so he can kiss your neck. “So there I was, being the coolest guy ever, and this bird came and landed on my shoulder. Can you believe it? I think I might have a second quirk that I don’t even know about!” He tells you excitedly and you put your pencil down before leaning back into his chest.

“You think you have a quirk like Koda?” You ask amusedly and Denki winks at you while putting his pointer finger to your lips.

“It’s a secret.” He whispers and you laugh as you relax into his arms, you’re already too mentally drained to try and solve the problem you’re working on. “I’m surprised you were listening with all your studying you were doing.” Denki nearly gags on the word studying and you bite your lip to refrain from laughing.

He picks up your notebook and holds it above your head to try and solve the problem. You lay your head down on his thigh and rest for the few moments of quiet that you have while he works out the solution.

“Um, babe? You got the translation wrong here.” He notes and your eyes snap open, you try to rip the notebook from his hands but Denki holds onto it tighter. “See you said this is a ‘violin’ when it’s actually a cello.” He tells you proudly and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, since when do you know so much English?” You sneer competitively and your boyfriend tenses while swallowing loudly. Shit, how is he supposed to tell you that Mineta made him watch weird English porn.

“You know how much I like music, instruments, that sort of thing!” He saves himself and you puff your cheeks out at him, Denki audibly coos at your expression. Denki peppers kisses all over your face, saving your lips for last. “Oh, babe, if you think that is a violin then it 100% is. I will stand by your side even if everyone else says you’re wrong!”

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder

#bakugo katsuki x reader #dabi x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bakugo x reader #dabi x y/n #denki x reader #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha

1K notes · View notes

sigillaria-svt · 3 years

Text

Notes from the Moon (University AU)

Pairing: Moon Junhui x Reader

Word Count: 5,637

Warning: None

Genres: fluff, secret admirer, bestfriend!Minghao, female reader

Synopsis:

Throughout his college life, Junhui has been contented with admiring from afar. It didn’t matter to him that she wasn’t aware, or that nothing was between them except a friendly acquaintance. However, Minghao knew deep inside that Junhui wanted to start moving forward, and thus he provided the starting ground for a series of secret notes that would end up becoming the seed to building Junhui’s confidence.

Junhui wasn't entirely sure when it all started. On his first day in college, he barely knew anyone except Minghao who he went to high school with. He couldn't remember the names of his classmates after they introduced themselves. However, there was one person that made a strong impression on him. Although he didn’t remember her name at first, he was drawn to the way that her eyes seemed to glow with curiosity.

Because of his bad eyesight, he always wanted to sit in the front along with Minghao, albeit at the far right corner of the room so that he can get away with dozing off just in case it was going to be a long class session. Somehow, with the same mindset, she sat at the front too. At first, it meant nothing to Junhui other than an interesting classmate.

That is, until he started paying more attention to her, and less attention on the lesson.

She wasn’t the type that attracted looks at first glance. She was a normal person with a strong sense of passion, but somehow, Junhui didn’t quite know how to act around her. Eventually, he just decided to look from afar, where he knew he didn't have to deal with overthinking what to say and do. It's not like he didn't try to before, either. On some days, he tried to approach her to ask about an assignment or to borrow a pen, but it ended up as small talk that fizzed away after a few sentences.

Doesn't help that her eyes tended to be fixated on the whiteboard, and not much else.

In a way, Junhui was thankful that she was always set on the lessons and assignments. He could look at her all day and she wouldn't notice a thing. For a time he was satisfied with just this—just admiring her every day without her knowing anything. It’s not like she was going anywhere. No one else ever showed romantic interest in her either, which gave Junhui all the more reason to continue staying as he was.

However, feelings can’t always be completely contained, especially if they’ve been growing slowly over a series of months.

It was a beautiful warm day in June, so Junhui and Minghao took the opportunity to be in the library for most of it. The library had large windows that spanned the entire wall, giving a view of the greenery outside the building. The temperature inside was just right, making it a favorite spot for students who wanted to study in comfort and quietude.

She was sitting a few tables away, a pair of earphones filling her time with piano music as she prepared to take notes for the test the next day. Junhui sat with Minghao, who was studying seriously while Jun was looking up from his notes once every few minutes.

"If you keep on looking at her like that, might as well stop studying and look at her for three hours." Minghao said, eyes still fixated on his notes below him.

"What? I’m not doing that, I'm studying!" Junhui said defensively, careful to make sure that his voice doesn’t go above the appropriate level for libraries.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"This book, of course." Junhui responded while indicating the book in his hands.

Minghao looked over at the page Junhui was on, "Uhuh, and what does it say about the Law of the Minimum?"

"Hmm, something about a function..."

Minghao looked at him, "Jun... it's been two years. Are you really just going to stay as an admirer from afar?"

"I know, I know. I'm just not sure how to approach her. I mean, I know what I want to say and do, but I'm just afraid that I'll mess it up." Junhui scratched the back of his hand. “You know what I mean right?”

Minghao sighed and put his hand on Junhui's shoulder. "So do you want to make a move or not?"

Jun raised his eyes and looked around, scared that someone else might overhear them. "Huh?"

"Come on, I know you do. The silent admirer thing has been fun and all, but you’ve really been getting more restless these past few days, especially when she’s around.”

"No, I mean yes. I mean...”

Minghao groaned in slight exasperation, "She's smart, so I'll teach you something that will make sure that she won't stop thinking about you."

He pulled out a pouch from his bag and took out a stack of green sticky notes. He laid it in front of Junhui along with a pen. Junhui looked at him with confusion, but Minghao simply raised his eyebrows and motioned for him to take it.

"If you're too shy to talk to her, then you can just write instead." Minghao said.

Junhui started to panic internally. "But what if she finds out that it's me?"

"If she finds out, she finds out." Minghao said with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. He tapped on the stacks of sticky notes. "It's not like she memorizes everyone's handwriting. To be honest, you don't write much either, so she isn't going to know."

Junhui took the pen in his hands and thought hard. He wanted to write something that wouldn’t make it seem like it's him, but something that would pique her curiosity enough for her to keep the note.

He started writing. I like your shirt. He bit his lip as he finished writing. He looked up at Minghao who looks at Jun as if he just committed a crime.

"Seriously? I like your shirt?"

Minghao took out the note and crumpled it. "Make it something nicer. Don't think too hard and try again."

"But..."

"Did I stutter? Don't think too hard."

Jun was about to whine, but stopped. He thought about the first thing that he's ever wanted to said to her, but couldn't. He knew that it was somewhere at the back of his head, he just had to put it into words. He thinks about the way that she seems to put all her focus into whatever it is she was doing, about the way she lost track of time working on a project, and in the way that she was excited to answer any question that you threw at her.

He didn’t understand why simple things about her made him so flustered. The simple existence of a person shouldn’t be making you lose sleep thinking about what things made her happy. Junhui pursed his lips and wrote a simple sentence on the piece of paper.

Your passion is beautiful.

He looked at it for a moment, wondering if it would be enough. No, it had to be enough. This was the starting point of everything, not the end. It shouldn’t matter if he messed up now.

Minghao looked over and smiled at him. "See? I knew you had it in you."

Just as Jun had finished writing, she took off her earphones and stood up. She headed over to the bathroom with her phone in hand, leaving her textbooks and notes scattered on the table.

When she's out of sight, Minghao nudges Junhui. Junhui looks at his friend with wide eyes, broken out of his focus on his newly written note.

"Go on and put it on her table while she's not there!" Minghao whispers.

"What, we're doing this now?" Junhui whispers back.

"When are you supposed to do it? When we graduate? Go ahead and do it!"

Minghao pushed him enough just to get him off his seat. Jun clumsily walked to her table, looking to see if her friends are around. Once Jun saw that it was clear, he quickly stuck the note on one of her open pages and walked back to his table red as a tomato. Jun falls to his seat and covers his face in embarrassment.

"Was that so bad?" Minghao asked.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this." A mess of red blushes covered Jun's face, up to his ears.

Just then, she got back from the restroom and sat on her chair as she put her earphones back on. She picks up her pen to continue writing, until she noticed the green note that was left on her notebook.

Minghao pulled Jun's hands away from his face. "Wait, look, she's reading it."

She took out one earphone and picked up the not, a smile forming over her face as she read the sentence. She looked around to see who might have left it, and Junhui quickly looked back down at his book, pretending not to notice. However, he did take a small peak up from the corner of the book enough to see her tuck the note in one of her notebooks. Minghao gave Junhui a proud smile, but says nothing else.

For the rest of the afternoon, Junhui watched as the girl he's been liking for the past two years smile widely as she wrote notes and highlighted sentences on her textbook.

Now, he didn’t have to keep on thinking about what made her happy. Here was there actually doing it by his own efforts.

Now that he was finally able to say what he always wanted to, it left a soft and fuzzy feeling in his chest. The fact that she kept his note and didn't throw it away makes him even happier.

He thought about the idea of her ever liking him back. It seemed like a childish thing to think about, but it was the first time he ever put serious thought into things like this. He realized that he has no idea how to even go about finding out, at least not the first time. It's fine if he doesn't find out right away, anyway. He's just happy that he's finally taken the first giant step forward.

Eventually, she packed up her things and made her way to leave the library. Meanwhile, Jun's eyes followed her around until she's out of sight.

"I think it's time to go." He says, standing up from his chair.

Minghao looks up from his book, nodding back to him. "Yeah, me too. So, what do you think? Happy?"

Junhui says nothing else, opting to give his best friend the biggest smile instead. Minghao didn’t need any words either, he understood Junhui just by the look on his face. So long as his friend was happy, he was more than willing to help him build up his confidence.

This was just the start of the many notes that Junhui would leave on her books or on her desk whenever she wasn't looking. For all those years that he wasn't able to say anything, he was finally able to put it into words and send it over to her. Every day, Jun would end up excited to write another new note that he would try to sneak in without anyone else noticing. At times, he wrote whatever just came into mind, at times earning a weird look from Minghao because of how cheesy it sounded.

You look amazing even when you think you don't. If you weren’t aware, now you are.

I don’t know why, but you look very attractive when you’re focused.

You've done well, don't forget to rest well and eat well. Congratulations on getting the highest score.

I hope you don’t mind me admiring you in secret.

You looked sad yesterday, I hope you’re doing alright. I found out myself that watching puppy videos online cheered me up, you should try it too.

I like the way that you laugh, it’s very joyful and carefree. I hope you stay happy and healthy all the time.

On other days, he ended up writing something without much thought. It didn’t bother him—he wanted her to know his thoughts, even those that seem random and out of nowhere.

The moon was beautiful last night, did you see it?

I noticed that you really like the color yellow. It’s nice and bright, I like it too.

I think the chicken came before the egg, but my friend has been bugging me that the egg came first. I wouldn’t know, really, I’m not a bird.

Are you curious about who I am?

As much as possible, Jun would try to stay around to check for her reaction. To Jun's satisfaction, it would always leave a smile on her face. That smile was all he needed to continue his hopes of starting something between them. It's not like he could just go up to her and say "Hey, do you have a moment? I’m actually that guy that keeps sending over green sticky notes."

As much as Jun enjoyed sending notes over, the girl had been starting to grow all the more curious about who this secret person was. It happened one early morning when Jun had arrived at the classroom to stick his note on her desk where she always sat for their first class. However, instead of seeing an empty white desk, he saw a yellow sticky note right where he usually stuck his notes on.

Similar to his own notes, she wrote a message:

Who are you?

She had also written her name and class on it. Now that she had asked, he wasn't going to reply with just his name, he wasn't ready for that just yet. To be honest, he was just delaying the process, but that was fine by him. What could he say?

Not wanting to make it too obvious, he wrote down a riddle instead. She's smart enough to get good marks on their tests, so Jun was sure she would figure this out in no time. However, he wanted to make it vague enough to just reveal a bit. Jun took out the pen in his pocket and wrote:

You can find me at night if you look up in the right direction.

He took off her note and placed it carefully into his notebook before replacing it with his own green note. He quickly walked out of the room, heart beating fast. He didn't expect her to respond in that way, but he was happy that she was getting interested.

Just as he had predicted, he saw her at the classroom later that morning. There were a group of students gathered at the front of the room, but she still managed to catch his eye. However, this morning was louder than usual, with her friends surrounding her in excitement.

"They left a riddle?!" One of her friends said, leaning in to read the note. "As if he, or she, wasn't already mysterious enough."

"What does it say?" The one who had asked the question for everyone else now asks her.

"It says you can find me at night if you look up in the right direction."

One of her friends crossed his arms. "Probably one of those night owls that spend their time in those 24/7 cafes until morning. Explains why they always seem to give you notes early in the morning when no one's around."

Jun gave a small chuckle as he listened in from one corner of the room. The only reason why he was able to put in those notes early is that he lives in the dorm right across from their campus. He just went in before anyone else arrived at the room and returned to the dorm to go back to sleep. Junhui continued to listen in as the group tried to unravel the riddle.

"So, what's the answer?" One of the guys asked.

Before she could respond, someone else answered for her. "Don't you think it has something to do with the sky?"

Shee points upward as if the answer is right there. "Either way, we have the first-period class in 10 minutes, so we better hurry and solve this." The first one said, turning around.

After a few moments of trying to think of the possible answers, the first person spoke again. "Hey, why don't we just... Call him out on it? I mean, if he's been leaving all of these notes on your desk, then he probably knows where you sit all the time. He's got to be a classmate."

Junhui's heart started to race. He knew that if they just try hard enough, they're bound to figure out that it's him, especially since her group of friends is quite large. All they really need is just the time to check the handwriting and ask around. Someone must have seen him at least once or twice with the pad of green sticky notes.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" She said with a laugh, to Jun's relief. "I want to try and figure out who they are based on their hints."

"You're just making this harder for yourself, you know?"

"I mean, if they wanted me to know who they were right away, then they would have just approached me right then and there." She tucked in the sticky note in her notebook, which was now filled with all of Jun's other secret notes. "Let's try to figure it out more after class."

As the topic is changed, Jun felt relieved. He wouldn't have been able to concentrate in class with everyone trying to figure out the riddle right beside him.

However, Jun was feeling a bit braver today than usual. In one of their classes, they were free to work on their task however they wanted so long as everyone stayed inside the classroom. Jun and Minghao managed to find a spot in the classroom next to where the girl was sitting. She was typing something on her laptop, but her notebook was right beside her with some of the green papers peeking out.

Minghao decided to join in on the plan. "Hey, I heard about the commotion before class. Have you really been exchanging notes with this mystery person?"

"Yeah, why?" The girl said without looking up from the laptop.

"How does it feel?" He said, leaning towards her.

"How does what feel?"

“Ahh, come on, I know you know what I’m talking about.” Minghao crossed his arms. "How does it feel to get notes from someone you don't know?"

"It's nothing special." She said, not sounding enticed at all by his question.

Junhui's heart drops for a bit, and Minghao tries not to give him a look.

"If someone I barely knew was leaving me notes, it would definitely mean something." He said, trying to take a different route. “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

The corners of her mouth go up, trying to suppress a smile.

"See?" Minghao said, half at her and half at Junhui. Her face started to turn red and she turned around to face away from Minghao.

Her shoulders started to shake as she tried not to laugh. "Would you go away already?" She laughs, turning off her laptop and standing up. "It's nothing special, I just find it kind of cute that this person, whoever they are, is so clueless about how I feel."

Minghao and Junhui exchange looks. She's definitely not confessing anything to them.

"Ahhh, come on. How long have you had those notes from him?"

"A while now." She answers, picking up her bag and laptop. She grabs her things and walks past the two of them, turning her head to look at them.

"So what's the deal then?"

"We’ll see once I figure it out." She said finally, giving one last glance at the two boys. She briskly walked to the front of the room, passing her flash drive to the professor before she headed out of the room.

Junhui finally released the breath that he never realized that he was holding. He leaned back in his chair as the professor reminded them that they have 20 more minutes to pass their outputs.

"She likes you." Minghao said quietly.

"Shut up." Jun said, but he can't help but smile.

Just like that, Jun had been dropping small hints about himself. It made him really excited to see that she was also enjoying it. Her friends became just as invested as she was, but she always made sure that they wouldn't try to do a stakeout to figure out who the mystery writer was. On the other hand, Minghao had been working with Junhui to make it even more exciting. The idea came to him one night while they were hanging out at Junhui's dorm.

"What about we attach a QR code and make it into a kind of treasure hunt?" Minghao said as he takes a bite of his chicken salad.

"A QR code to what?"

"To a music playlist." Minghao opened up the Spotify app on his phone. “They’ll enjoy trying to figure out each song. I’m pretty sure she isn’t the type to just listen casually to songs without understanding what the lyrics mean.”

"Wait, isn't she going to know that I made it?"

"Not if we make a new account to make it all anonymous." Minghao replied. "So, do you want to try it out and see their reaction tomorrow?"

Junhui thought it through, kind of shy at the idea of making a playlist for someone. However, he went along with it. He tried his best not to include songs that would immediately give him away. With Minghao's help, he eventually printed out the QR code and stuck it on the sticky note. Junhui took out his pen and wrote above the code:

It looks like you're really trying hard to figure out who I am. Check this out.

Then he got really nervous and turned the notepad over. Minghao gave him a look, but Junhui only rolled over on his bed, flustered at the idea. Junhui paused for a moment with his face buried in the pillows. "Okay, alright, I'll do it. I can do it."

"Good." Hao hit him on the leg before getting up to clean his plate.

The next day, the reactions were just as Minghao expected them to be. One of her friends immediately took out their phone to scan the code, ecstatic to find themselves at a Spotify playlist.

At this point, they still didn't know who the secret admirer was, but one of them was starting to think it was Junhui. Although they never saw him put the notes on himself, Junhui always seemed to be around the area whenever she got the notes.

However, they were never really able to find enough evidence that it was Jun, so it was all left as a theory on their side.

Although the notes were there every single day for the past month, Jun suddenly stopped sending them. This wasn't because he was losing the mood for it, but because he wanted them to actually start figuring out who he was. He was happy that she had been getting curious, but he wanted to start going beyond just leaving notes on her table every morning. He wanted to go up to her and talk without getting shy, to hold her hand instead of imagining it. He didn’t expect that his feelings would grow like that.

That's why he needed time. Time for them to actually talk to each other and not be simple classmates anymore.

For the next two weeks, the notes just stopped, and they were left with only the Spotify Playlist as a hint for who the secret admirer was.

They talked about it in class, some thought it might be a fellow student, while others thought it was too vague and might be someone outside of school. Fearing that she forgot about it, Jun left one final note for her to unravel.

Junhui stood in the dim room early in the morning, pen and sticky note pad in hand. He leaned on the desk and writes his final message.

Do you know who I am now?

Jun paused for a moment, before adding the first hint he'd ever sent her.

You can find me at night if you look up in the right direction.

It was perfect for the occasion. There was going to be a full moon tonight with cloudless skies. She'd surely be able to find the moon. His last name isn’t necessarily the most common one out there. She should be able to figure that the moon was meant to point to him, Moon Junhui.

And so, he left the notes for her. Jun quickly returned to his dorm. He was too nervous to go back to sleep and ended up playing games on his phone in an attempt to pass the time.

However, when he went into class that morning, there seemed to be no fuss. The note was nowhere to be found and she was studying on her desk like she normally would.

Anxiously, he glanced around, but there's nothing out of the ordinary. His heart began to race. Did she find his clue? Did she realize who he is? He'd have no way of finding out. The rest of the day felt like walking through the mud as Junhui tried to hold himself back from outright approaching the girl and declaring himself to be the secret writer all along.

He was too nervous that he wouldn't know how to explain himself if she really did figure out who he was. At the same time, he wanted to finally take the next step forward, still slightly scared of how she might actually react.

Just as he was about to lose all hope, the full moon finally appeared in the sky. Jun was on his way back to the dorm when he received a call from an unregistered number. "Hello?"

"Did you run out of sticky notes? Is this why you haven't been sending me notes for the past few weeks?

Jun stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. It was her. She finally figured it out. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what to say without stuttering.

Jun stood there for a good ten seconds before the girl spoke up again, "Hello? Is this Junhui? Did I get the right number?" She started to hum some song on the other end, not hearing the silence from his end.

"Uh, yeah...erm..." Jun managed to spit out. "How did you find out?"

"Having 'moon' as the title of your playlist wasn't exactly the most mysterious thing, you know?" She said with a bright tone. “How I figured it out is a long story, so let’s just say that you sound a lot like the notes you were putting up.”

"So you've known for quite a while now?"

"Yeah, I just didn't want to do anything yet before... checking out a few things." She pauses for a moment. "Are you free right now?"

"Uh... yeah I am." Junhui managed to spit out, a bit more steadily than before now that he’s gotten himself together.

"Good, because we need to talk. Don't be so scared, It's not bad news." She laughs at the other end. "Meet me at the department lobby in ten?"

Jun gave her a small yes and dropped the call. With shaky hands, he quickly dialed Minghao and told him all about it.

"Well, isn't that good? You're finally getting to where you want." His friend said nonchalantly.

"That's the point! I didn't know it was suddenly going to happen like this!" Junhui paced back and forth. "I'm going to be a stuttering mess, I didn't prepare for this! Well I mean, I wanted this, but it’s just…AH!!"

"Look, you're going to be fine. You're just nervous, that's all."

"...Can't you come with me?"

"Huh? Jun, I'm just going to be an awkward third wheel. You need to go to her yourself. I'm going to hang up, good luck."

"Wait, no, Hao--" Before Jun could continue, his friend ended the call, leaving him alone in his nervousness.

He had to go do this himself. If he didn't, he'd always regret it. Junhui gave himself a few slaps on the face before turning around to head back into their building.

The lobby was found right at the entrance of their building. It had a small indoor garden with a few benches and tables. Jun fidgeted with his phone as he stepped in, looking for the familiar figure that he had been watching over all this time.

When Junhui found her, he held his breath.

This is it. This is finally it.

She turned her head to look at him, smiling at him. She was sitting on one of the benches, her notebook filled with Junhui's notes on her lap.

She stood up and walked towards him. "Hi."

"H-hello." Jun says nervously, taking a small step back. "So you finally found out, huh?"

"Well it wasn't that hard to figure out. It wasn't until I started noticing that you've been staring at me a lot during our classes that I was definitely sure that it was you."

"I do?" He knew that he absolutely was, but he wasn’t aware that it was actually that obvious to her.

"Yeah, you do. But I didn't mind it, if that's what you're wondering." She answers as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say. "One question though, why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you like me? As far as I know, I'm not really the kind of girl that gets all the guys riled up. Being a study freak doesn’t really scream girlfriend material, you know? As far as I’m concerned, I even hear that people get intimidated by me for reasons I can’t really pinpoint.”

"I... Eh..."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not mad."

A small laugh escaped from Junhui's mouth. "No, I don't think you would be."

The girl looked at him patiently as Junhui takes a few moments to compose his thoughts. "Well, you're smart and outspoken, but I don't think that's something I should be intimidated about. I actually think it's pretty incredible that you stand up for what you believe is right. I don't know if you see it or not, but you become different when you concentrate on your work, well I mean, in a good way, of course."

"You really think so?" She asked in disbelief, as if she didn't have a kind word for herself.

"Yeah, I really think so." He nods, being completely sincere.

The girl tilted her head a bit as if considering his compliments. Then, she returned her attention to her notebook.

"You know, these notes really meant a lot to me." She said with a small voice. "I've been having a difficult time these past few months, but I didn't really tell anyone about it. Just when I was really getting sick of everything, your notes suddenly popped up into my daily life. For that, thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Junhui pressed his lips together. "Do you mind if I ask you a question in return?"

"Go ahead."

"What do you think about me?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He immediately clamped his lips and cheeks shut, waiting for her answer.

She laughed. "Don't be so nervous." She told him. "Well to be honest with you, I'm not yet sure. It's really the first time someone liked me in this way. I tried to think about it to settle my feelings, but I always get caught up doing something else in the middle of it. If anything... I guess you make me happy in a way?"

"I make you happy?" He could barely believe she said that.

"Yeah, that's it. You can make me really happy, or at least that's what I think you're capable of doing."

"That's, that's great!" Junhui felt like he was floating.

"I'm glad that it made sense to you." She grinned. "I don't know if I'd call it love just yet. Would you give me time to think it through?"

"Uh, of course." He nodded. "I'd hate for you to make a hasty decision just because I reached out to you."

"Alright. Thank you, Junhui."

The both of them stood there in silence for a few seconds. Just ecstatic to know how they felt about each other. After all the initial anxiety and sneaking around, everything finally felt that it was worth it. Sure, he didn't know if she would ever reciprocate his feelings in the same way, but now that the cat's out of the bag, he felt that there really was something waiting for them at the end of the road.

Junhui can't help but smile like a kid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The girl asked.

"I'm just in shock. That's all." He smiles.

She gives a small chuckle and looks away. "Your personality is very adorable, are you aware? If not, now you are."

"Huh? What? Oh! No. Well, I mean I know, but I'm just surprised someone told me." He laughed nervously. Junhui cleared his throat. "So, do you want to grab some dinner with me? I know all the good Chinese restaurants around campus."

The girl smiled. "I'd love to."

That was the start of it all. At first, Junhui regretted not telling her earlier, but now he understands that it was just the perfect time for it. He was happy enough to have her by his side, slowly figuring out the complex intricacies of her personality one small piece at a time. It was a joy to know her, and an even greater joy to fall in love with her. It didn't matter that they were taking slow steps, what mattered to him is that they find peace in the pace that the other was on.

This was more than enough for him.

#svt #seventeen #wen junhui #jun #svt jun #seventeen jun #moon junhui #moon junhwi #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #junhui x reader #jun x reader #moon junhui x reader #wen junhui x reader

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

kids and car rides 2 -feysand

AN: well, you guys liked the one-shot, so here’s a part 2! this is five thousand words of plotless fluff- hope you like it! if you didn’t read it, here is part one

part three

Rhys had known he was screwed from the very beginning.

It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

From the first comment Feyre Archeron had made in Literature, Rhys had been hooked. Maybe it was the tone in which she spoke the words, almost as if she expected someone to disagree with her even -though what she was saying was brilliant- but Rhys was pretty sure it was the paint stains she always seemed to carry around all over her body, no matter the time of day.

Gods, all he had wanted to do was brush a finger over a paint-stained strand of hair when she had been in his car earlier. Yep, because Rhys had somehow convinced the brunette to let him drive her home. He was still reeling.

Rhys shook his head, running a hand quickly over his face before focusing back on the road in front of him. Soon enough he was pulling into the student parking lot in front of the high school, immediately spotting Cassian and Azriel standing by Cassian’s truck.

Rhys scowled at them before turning off the engine and stalking over to them. He still wasn’t quite over them leaving Thebe out of his sight. But of course, Feyre had been there to find her. And just like that, his thoughts returned to the grey-eyed girl.

His friends fell into step beside him as they walked through the school in silence, still tired due to the early morning. He wasn’t sure whose brilliant idea it was to have football practice before and after school, but Rhys was still bitter about it.

“So,” Cassian snickered. “Did Rhysie have an interesting night?” Rhys shoved him, glaring through violet eyes at Cassian’s shit-eating grin and Azriel’s small smile.

“Shut the hell up, Cassian.”

“I think it’s a fair ask. You finally got the girl to spend some time alone with you and you’re telling me it didn’t go well?” Rhys rolled his eyes, arriving in the locker room.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh calm down, Rhys. It’s six in the morning- there’s no one else here.”

“Still,” Rhys insisted. He didn’t know what was going on with him and Feyre, but he doubted she wanted anything about them to start circling around the school. Especially when she was still dating Tamlin Hybern.

Rhys scowled into his locker. How could a girl like Feyre be dating a prick like Tamlin Hybern?

It didn’t matter, Rhys reminded himself. Because Feyre didn’t seem interested in him. So why should he even broach the thought of a relationship between them?

But his thoughts dissipated, quickly replaced with a small smile as he pulled his jacket out of his bag. She had only worn it for a few minutes, but the scent of Feyre Archeron had clung to his jacket like glue. Pears and lilac. Gods, Rhys could get drunk off of it.

“Dude,” Az’s voice rang through the almost empty locker room. “You coming?”

Rhys closed his locker, leaving his jacket inside along with the feelings for a girl who would never return them.

“Yeah.”

Practice was uneventful, his eyes constantly dragging to the empty bleachers, expecting to see- he didn’t really know what. Rhys had showered quickly, shoving himself out of the locker room as students began arriving and walking to their classes.

He was walking to calculus, already dreading what the old man had in store for his students when he passed the art room. Rhys shook his head. There was no way she was here this early. Why would she be?

But he couldn’t help it. So Rhys poked his head through the opened door of the art room, almost dropping the cellphone in his hand when he indeed saw the figure of Feyre Archeron hunched over in front of an aisle.

His heart was in his throat as he gazed at the girl in front of him. She wore a frown, clearly frustrated with whatever was going on in the painting in front of her and the sight brought a small quirk to his lips. Feyre had the tip of a paintbrush between her teeth and she seemed to be mumbling something to herself. Her hair was pulled into some type of knot in her head, also held together with a paintbrush, this one with a small bit of paint on it that was already falling into her hair. Not to mention the smear of yellow paint already on her cheek.

Rhys was full-blown grinning now as he shook his head.

He was shocked out of his staring by a strong hand clapping his shoulder. He recognized it as Cassian’s.

“Dude, you are so screwed.”

Yeah. Yeah, he was.

He saw her again after lunch. Feyre was back in the empty art studio, her brows drawn together as she examined the painting that now looked like a night sky. Rhys was sometimes taken aback by how talented she was.

If only he had the chance to tell her.

Rhys could practically hear Cassian’s voice in his head telling him to do it, so he did. With a light knock on the open door, he walked into the art studio. He couldn’t help but feel out of place with his clunky football gear around the beautiful paintings.

Feyre had jerked up as soon as he had knocked, the paintbrush flying out of her hand as it went to her chest.

“Hell, Rhys! You scared me.” Her gray eyes hardened as she took him in and Rhys couldn’t contain the grin on his face as he pulled up a chair and straddled it.

“Well, that was clearly my intention, darling. What fun would I be if I walked in like a normal person?” Feyre rolled her eyes, regaining her paintbrush and turning back to the canvas as if he weren’t there.

“I wonder, do things like that sound funnier in your head?” she arched a brow. For a moment Rhys was taken up in how simply beautiful she was. She looked like something out of a Disney movie with her big blue eyes and golden brown hair. Rhys was such a sucker for it.

“Aw, come on. We both know I’m funny.”

“Funny looking,” Feyre snorted. Gods, that was cute.

“I think we both know how you feel about my looks, darling.” His jab was rewarded with a pretty blush on Feyre’s cheeks that suited her a little too well. Finally, she placed her brush down and turned fully toward him.

“Is there a reason you’re here? Or have you just come to annoy me?” Rhys grinned, leaning his head on his hands.

“The latter obviously.” At her lack of facial expression, Rhys sighed. “Alright, I digress. I came here with an ulterior motive.”

Feyre arched a brow. “And that is?”

“To schedule my first study session,” Rhys blurted, thinking on his feet. The girl in front of him scoffed, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, and Rhys was struck with the raging desire to twirl it himself. It was sheer self-control that kept him in his chair. Because Feyre didn’t see him like that. No matter how much he wished she would.

“Sorry to tell you, but this isn’t the library.”

“That may be true. But my tutor’s here. I’m staring right after.” Feyre’s open-mouthed response was cut off by the bell ringing and Rhys cursed silently.

“Look, Rhys. I would if I could. But I’m honestly just too busy. This project isn’t working and the deadline is coming up. I’m sorry.” Feyre hauled her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave the room before Rhys’s arm was shooting out to catch her wrist.

“Wait!” His hand dropped her wrist as she whipped her head back to him and Rhys swallowed. “Come on, go over notes with me for… twenty minutes. Then you can finish your project. I’ll even help you.” Feyre’s eyes flashed gray-blue.

“And how, pray tell-do you intend to do that?”

“By giving you inspiration of course,” he smirked, and the no-doubt accidental smile that broke on Feyre’s lips could have fueled his soul if he was the last man on earth. He shrugged, as if unaffected by the gorgeous smile on her face. “I’d say I’m pretty inspiring.”

Feyre watched him before shaking her head as if shaking thoughts out of her head. “You’re definitely something Rhysand.” She cleared her throat. “Fine. Meet me in the library. Three o’clock. Don’t be late. Have your study material ready and we’ll study. For twenty minutes.”

Rhys bet his smile was blinding as Feyre walked out of the room and down the hallway. He watched her in silent awe. But she had said yes.

Rhys wasn’t even a little embarrassed by the fact that he pumped his fist in the air when he knew she was too far to see him. She was going to study with him.

For a class, he didn’t take.

Shit.

Rhys cursed, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the recently used number.

“Rhys?”

“Az, you take European Art right?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“Please tell me you have some sort of notes for the class.” There was a sigh on the other end of the line.

“This is for Feyre isn’t it?”

“Will you just answer the question?” Azriel huffed.

“Alright, fine. There’s a blue notebook in my locker- it’s for art. Anything in there should work for study material. Stay away from the back, though. Those are too detailed. Feyre would never believe they’re yours.”

Rhys grinned, ignoring the jab, and thanked Azriel. After sprinting to his friend’s locker and acquiring his notebook, Rhys was strutting back down the hall, a satisfying feeling in his stomach.

She had said yes.

How Coach had actually ended up letting Rhys skip practice to study was beyond him. He had an inkling sensation that it had something to do with Cassian muttering something about a girl to him. Coach had simply rolled his eyes and given him a bi.

And that was how Rhys arrived in the library fifteen minutes to three. He hid behind one of the higher shelves, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and praying to the Gods that he didn’t mess this up.

Rhys had poured over the detailed notes in Azriel’s journal, thanking the Gods that he had a best friend who was so organized. The class seemed relatively simple, nothing much for him to worry about. He just hoped Feyre wouldn’t think he was stupid for asking the questions he would have to make up. Not lying in the first place really would have been the way to go. But it was much too late for that now.

Twenty minutes. That was all he had. He sincerely doubted that Feyre Archeron would spend more time with him than was necessary. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As if hearing his thoughts about her, Feyre, in all her glory, walked into the library at that moment, a phone held in between her ear and shoulder. A small pout was on her face as she shook her head, ignoring the looks of the librarian who clearly pointed to the sign saying phones weren’t allowed.

“It’s not like that Nes…” she was saying as she passed by the bookshelf he was hiding behind. She clearly hadn’t seen him. “We’re just studying. He asked for help and he drove me home last Friday. It’s the least I could do.” The voice on the other end of the line bit something back and Feyre’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Gods! No, that is definitely not what’s happening. Besides, you know I’m going to end it. Nesta, would you please calm down? Look, he’s gonna get here soon, I gotta go.” Feyre rolled her eyes at the person’s response. “Yes, mom, I’ll be careful. Love you too. Bye.”

Rhys was slightly surprised that Feyre felt she needed to be careful around him. The prospect of anything that would even remotely hurt her caused his stomach to tumble uncomfortably.

But he steeled himself and walked over to Feyre who was already sitting at a table at the back of the library, textbooks open. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she noticed him before returning to their usual indifference.

“Ready to do this, Archeron?” Rhys wasn’t prepared for the wicked grin Feyre shot him.

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that. Bring it on, Knight.”

The study session consisted of alternating between watching Feyre ramble through intricate art details and attempting not to be intoxicated by her perfume. Rhys seemed unable to do either without realizing how truly enthralled he was with the girl.

Feyre looked beautiful when she talked about art, and Rhys quickly realized he only needed to ask a simple question to send her on a factual tangent. But he didn’t mind. Her cheeks gained a pretty blush and her eyes twinkled with each sentence.

Yeah, Rhys could watch her forever.

But the buzzing of his phone alerted him that he and Feyre had ‘studied’ for much longer than twenty minutes, and it was time for him to pick Thebe up from the elementary school.

“Any other questions?” Feyre asked, without noticing his phone.

“You ready to go?” She started in place as she finally turned from her textbook.

“What?”

“If you didn’t notice, our twenty minutes ended a while ago, darling.” Feyre scowled at the nickname but Rhys continued. “And it’s time for my end of the deal.”

“Your… what?”

“I told you I would help you with your art project. So let’s go. I have to pick up Thebe, but if you want, you can come home with us, and we can try to figure your project out.”

Feyre smiled at the mention of his little sister and Rhys’s heart did a little relay in his chest. But Feyre shook her head, packing up her bag.

“Thanks, but I don’t know how you could help. It’s a mental thing and I… should figure it out on my own.”

“Come on, Feyre. Are we gonna do this again? Just let me try. Besides, Thebe misses you.” Rhys was smirking the moment he saw Feyre’s resolve crack.

“Fine. I’ll do it for Thebe.”

“Feyre!” Rhys almost frowned at the excitement in his little sister’s voice as she jumped into the back of his car. She had never greeted him like that.

“Hey, no hello for your big brother?” Thebe stuck her tongue out at him in the rearview mirror and Feyre choked out a laugh from beside him.

“Of course not. Because you aren’t her game buddy, now are you? Right Thebe?”

“Right!” Feyre smirked in triumph as Rhys gaped at her. But he couldn’t even be offended if the sickly sweet feeling in his stomach was any indication. Rhys had been amazed from the beginning with how good Feyre was with Thebe. She had always been a good kid, but recently Thebe had been on a rebellious streak.

But the little girl seemed to have a weak spot for Feyre Archeron. Rhys couldn’t say he blamed her. So as Feyre reached over and turned on the stereo in his car without his permission and smiled at him when he looked at her, he decided he would be okay with being whatever Feyre wanted to be. Because he didn’t know if he could live without being able to see that smile.

The ride to his house was silent and content, Feyre smiling at Thebe in the rearview mirror as she kicked her feet to the tune of whatever song was playing. The second he pulled into their driveway Thebe was out of the car and sprinting to the front door. After a kind scolding from Feyre about running away from her brother, Rhys unlocked the front door and led the two girls in.

He could already smell his mothers cooking on the stove and sweet, melodic music flowed through the house. He gazed at Feyre as she looked around, a small smile on his face.

He was so screwed.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Before Feyre could reply, Rhys was walking to the kitchen mumbling, “I’ll get you a water,” and leaving her with Thebe.

“Rhysand,” his mother hissed the second he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She was in front of the stove holding a wooden spoon. “Is that a girl out there?” Rhys scratched the back of his burning neck.

“It is.” He was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head. “And why exactly have I not had an introduction?”

“It’s her first time over here, Mom. I don’t want to freak Feyre out.”

“FEYRE?” Rhys winced as soon as he realized his mistake. “The one you and the boys talk about all the time?” He almost laughed at the resemblance between her and Thebe, but he was too busy blushing down to his toes.

“Yes, now can I please go back out there? There’s a good chance she ran away.” His mother rolled her eyes.

“Rhysand Knight, you bring that girl in here right now and introduce me to her. If she’s anything like Thebe tells me then something tells me we’ll get along just fine.”

“Mom-” the look she shot him demanded he keep his mouth shut and do what she said. So Rhys walked back out the living room where Thebe was coloring something on a bright orange piece of paper. She was speaking to Feyre, her hands moving in all directions as Feyre watched her, nodding along in understanding. There was no way she understood what Thebe was saying.

Feyre’s gaze snapped up as he walked into the room. “What’s up?”

“Uh, my mom wants to meet you. Is that okay?” Rhys was ready to start rambling before Feyre stood up and walked over to him.

“Sure thing. I’d love to meet the woman who raised my favorite Knight. I’m talking about Thebe, by the way.” Rhys rolled his eyes, shooting her a small grin.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go Archeron.” Rhys lightly pushed the small of her back forward and they walked side by side back to the kitchen where his mother now held a knife. Feyre’s laid back demeanor quickly diminished as she gazed at the older woman and Rhys had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Feyre,” Rhys said through a laugh. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Feyre. She’s here for some inspiration.”

Whatever Rhys had expected to happen was thrown to hell as his mother surged forward and enveloped Feyre in a hug. In a short bit of hesitation, Feyre hugged her back and smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard so much about you- from both of my children, surprisingly. Although Rhysand didn’t tell me how beautiful you were!”

“MOM!”

Feyre was blushing up to her roots but she smiled back nonetheless.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Archeron. Your house is beautiful. And your children saved my life last Friday at the football game. Quite the athlete you’ve got here by the way.” Rhys frowned.

“I didn’t know you watched the game.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” she said, turning to him and shooting him a sly smirk. “I was talking about Thebe. She’s pretty fast.” His mother laughed as Rhys rolled his eyes. “I knew I would like you. And I suppose I have you to thank that I have my daughter here today?” Feyre shook her head, accepting the water bottle his mother offered her.

“I didn’t do much. It was a right place, right time sort of thing. Besides, I think we all run away when we’re children. I’m just glad she’s okay. She’s just a kid- I’m sure she’ll learn not to run off eventually.”

“I hope so,” Rhys and his mother echoed at the same time. Feyre looked between the two, a small smile growing on her face as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a pen and a pencil. Rhys shot her a questioning look but she simply shook her head, letting him know that she was in no rush to stress about her project.

“So, Feyre.” His mother had returned to her chopping board and was cutting some carrots. He crossed the counter and pulled out a cutting board for himself and began to help her, catching Feyre’s eye in the process. The smile he shot her was one of pure happiness, and if he had known her better, he would’ve guessed the one she returned was the same. “Rhysand tells me you’re an artist.”

Feyre laughed a little. “Artist'' is a broad term. But, yes, I paint. And draw sometimes too. Your son would know, since tearing me away from my work seems to be his favorite hobby.” Rhys would have paled if not for the twinkle of amusement in Feyre’s eye and he flicked a droplet of water at her, causing her to reach over and pinch his side.

Rhys yelped, and Feyre’s smile turned positively wicked.

“Are you…? Are you ticklish?” Rhys squawked in offense.

“I am not!”

“You are too,” his mother and Thebe’s voices harmonized together. The little girl had wandered into the kitchen not long ago and was sitting on the bar stool next to Feyre, holding her own colorful crayons and paper.

“Wow,” Feyre mused from across the table. “Rhysand Knight: star quarterback. Ticklish.” She let out a melodic laugh and Rhys knew he would allow himself to be embarrassed for life if only to hear it again. Thebe giggled from beside her and Feyre arched a brow.

“I wouldn’t be giggling if I were you, Thee,” she warned, wiggling her dexterous fingers at the little girl. Thebe let out a high pitched squeal as she attempted to back out of the chair, Feyre’s hand behind her the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

“No...no! Feyre no! Don’t-!” the little girl protested. But it was too late, and Feyre had scooped the little girl into her lap, tickling her sides with fervor until tears of laughter were streaming down her chubby cheeks. Feyre was laughing along with Thebe, even as the little girl tried to reach for her own sides to tickle her.

Rhys turned around and stared at the wooden cabinets for a moment. This feeling, in his chest. He had never felt it before. Like every bit of sunlight in existence was shoving its way into his soul, and there wasn’t enough room for it so it simply grew bigger. He couldn’t explain the happiness that coursed through his body at the sight of Feyre with his sister. He didn’t want to.

By the time he turned back around, the two girls had called a truce, yet they both gazed at each other, eyes in slits.

“Finally found her weak spot, Thee?” Thebe pouted, crossing her tiny arms in front of her and shaking her head resolutely.

“She’s not ticklish!” the girl complained in a whine and Feyre laughed.

“Sorry, Thebe. It’s an Archeron family trait.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rhys stated, placing his knife down in the sink and turning back to Feyre, who was now looking at him with wide eyes as he approached her. Feyre backed up and out of the kitchen, her hands in front of her as if to defend herself.

“Rhys, NO. Rhysand, don’t you dare. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare! Rhys no-”

The rest of her sentence was replaced with a sharp gasp as Rhys reached for her, his longer arms and legs allowing him to easily reach around Feyre’s waist and pull her to his chest. She shrieked as his fingers found her neck, tickling without restraint and causing a cacophony of laugh to explode from her as her body attempted to spring away from his.

Not ticklish my ass.

“Rhysand Knight, you let go of me right now!” she managed to get out in between out of breath laughs. Rhys almost didn’t hear her over the overwhelming scent of her shampoo in his senses. But when he did, Rhys smirked.

“Hmm… no, I don’t think I will.” He didn’t think twice before hauling Feyre over his shoulder and carrying her back to the kitchen, her fists pounding uselessly on his back. Thebe and his mother watched the two of them with wide smiles and his sister clapped her hands in excitement, reaching out for Feyre as Rhys put her back down.

“My turn!” Feyre raised a brow, clearly confused. But realization struck her face too late and Thebe was already reaching towards her.

“Thebe! Come on, we’re friends, right? What about being game buddies? Game buddies don’t do this to each other!” But she was a girl on a mission, and Rhys tugged Feyre towards his chest once more, ignoring how well they just fit as he held her arms down.

Thebe tickled Feyre’s neck relentlessly until she had no choice but to shield herself. Feyre turned, burying her head in Rhysand’s chest. He ignored the fact that it offered no protection to her neck and pulled her closer, disguising the movement with the laughter in his chest. Rhys would trade anything for the moment to never end.

“Okay you two,” his mother cut in. “Release the prisoner. We do want her to come back, don’t we?” Rhys finally released her, immediately missing Feyre’s warmth. She shot him a dirty look that held absolutely no bite and the twinkle in her eye and flush in her cheeks changed her face entirely, reminding him once more of how beautiful she was. It knocked the breath out of his chest for a moment.

But he finally managed to pull himself together, returning back to the carrots on the counter as Feyre settled back into the chair next to Thebe.

“Traitor,” she hissed playfully to the little girl.

“Hey, don’t mess with the Knights. Right, Thee?” Rhys cut in from across the counter, reaching out to give his little sister a high five which she excitedly returned. He caught Feyre’s eyes and the blatant happiness in them made his heart flip.

His mother watched the two with amusement, her cheeks shining with a happy blush. The knowing look she shot him had Rhys clearing his throat and returning his attention to the carrots in front of him.

“So, Feyre. Do you have any siblings?” Feyre jerked, as if shocked out of her thoughts before smiling at his mother.

“I do, actually. I have two sisters, Nesta and Elain. Both are older than me. Nesta is a freshman at Prythian and Elain is planning on going there next year too.” Feyre was twirling her pen around her finger and Rhys quickly realized it was a habit of hers. He found it adorable.

“What about you?” he found himself asking.

Feyre’s pen stilled as she looked at him, as if surprised he had asked. But how could she be? He wanted to know everything about her.

“Velaris. For art,” she said finally. “That’s where I wanna go.” Rhys hoped Feyre hadn’t noticed the change of pace of his cuts. Rhys had been born in Velaris, and had lived there until he was ten before moving to Prythian. He had loved it with everything in him. Still did. Rhys thought he was pleasantly surprised yet again by another thing he and Feyre Archeron held in common.

“Really?” his mother asked knowingly. “How come?” Feyre’s eyes lit up, taking up an almost angelic glow. Rhys tried not to stare.

“It’s gorgeous. The city itself, and the lights, and the stars, gods, I could look at the stars of Velaris for eternity.” The life in which Feyre spoke the words had Rhys meeting her gaze. And something so taut pulled between them, he thought something would snap, if not his self control.

“What’s your project on?” he croaked out instead. Feyre cleared her throat, looking away from him and down at a scribbled on piece of paper next to Thebe. Her masterpiece.

“Um,” her voice was hoarse. “Love.” Although she wasn’t looking at him, his gaze snapped to her, noticing her now red cheeks.

“Love?” asked his mother.

“Love. A piece of art that represents my definition of love,” Feyre replied, finally looking at him. Gods, she was beautiful.

“Rhysie! I wanna help!” Rhys startled, looking at his little sister who was now holding out her hands for his knife. Rhys laughed, shaking his head and placing the knife down far away from her.

“Sorry, Thee. No knife today. Actually, no knife for a while.” His sister’s gaze narrowed, ready for war. But Rhys reached over the counter, careful not to brush his arm with Feyre’s, and picked up his sister, quickly sitting her on his shoulders.

She giggled in glee and Feyre beamed at the little girl. Rhys had a feeling Thebe wasn’t the only one with a soft spot.

“Here,” he said. “You can help from up here.” He tickled the bottom of her foot and grinned as she laughed. He loved this little goofball.

“Rhysand, you drop that little girl and I will knock you on your ass so hard you won’t be able to breathe for a week,” his mother warned. Feyre let out a loose laugh at the statement and Rhys playfully glared at her. She returned it in kind.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he swore. “Scouts honor.”

“Were you in scouts?” Feyre asked.

“No,” cut in his mother. “No, he was not.” She hit the top of his head and Rhys winced through a laugh.

“Aw,” Thebe cooed from above him. She began to rub his head. “There, there. Feel better Rhysie.” Finally Rhys smiled, looking up at the pair of violet eyes that matched his own.

“Thanks Thee.”

A rustling sound had him looking back to where Feyre was. She had grabbed a piece of Thebe’s construction paper on the table and was reaching for a dark blue crayola crayon. Rhys watched as she bit her lip in concentration and her hand began to move over the paper.

Feyre looked up again only to find him watching her. He quirked a brow in question and the smile and shrug she gave him in return was the sun on a cloudy day.

“I think I found some inspiration.”

Rhys was in love with Feyre Archeron. There was no denying it, as he stared at the row of finished final products in the art studio. The snarky and quick witted girl had captured his heart and Rhys was more than willing to give it to her. She could do with it as she pleased.

He had fallen wholly and deeply for her.

And as he gazed at the bright orange paper in front of him, at the sketch of a kitchen and a mother, a son and a laughing girl, he thought he might’ve fallen a little bit more.

i love these two :)

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #feysand fic #sjm #a court of thorns and roses

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