#he said yes but you didn’t hear that from me

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with performance unit

[ 🍵 ] how they would spoil their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would plan to make them feel special

jun

place: cat/dog cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d have your coffee/tea order + favourite baked goods memorised (to the point where if they didn’t have what you’d usually order, jun would know what you’d take instead)

what they would be like taking you out: jun would be the epitome of sweet and precious, because mans wouldn't be able to stop smiling. seriously, the grin he'd have on his face would be low-key concerning because how can someone smile for that long, but at the same time, he'd make you feel so at peace and comfy with his gentle persona

“they are so us,” jun giggled and pointed at two cats trying to claw each other's eyes out. 

you shook your head and took a sip from your cup. if it was anyone else you’d start wondering if they even liked you, because comparing you to a rather aggressive cat was not on your top 10 compliments list, nor was it something you’d like to hear on a first date.  

but the boy in front of you was far from “anyone else”.

“you’re feisty,” jun pointed at the black cat, “just like her.” 

before you could think through what you were about to say next, you blurted out, “well, at least now we know who’ll wear the pants in our relationship.” 

it was safe to say that jun looked like an angry tomato for the rest of the date.

hoshi

place: laser tag

what they would do to make you feel special:  if you’d end up on opposite teams, soonyoung would do anything to let your team win (he’d be so proud in thinking he was being sooo sneaky about it) because seeing you happy is so much better than winning (you’re the only exception though, anyone else - the fight is on)

what they would be like taking you out:  this man is too unpredictable to know for sure how he’d act, but generally speaking it could go either two ways: 1 - soonyoung would be filled with so much energy, beaming with happiness and just so much affection for you that you’d have a hard time knowing what he’d even be on about (lovingly), 2 - he’d turn into a stressed little guy that just wouldn’t be able to believe that he’s on a date with you??? you gorgeous creature said yes to go out with him??? no one pinch him, because if it’s still a dream he doesn’t want to wake up. this version of him would be quite quiet, but in a soonyoung way quiet

“stop!” you laughed, quickly looking back to see if hoshi was still running after you. 

and running he was. more like charging at you at full speed, to be honest, with a fake gun in his hand and devilish grin on his face. 

“you’re not going to get away this time!” he yelled back, getting closer to you with each step. and there was no way you’d outrun him, na-ah. 

“it’s not how you play this game,” you said and bursted out in a fit of laughter, as soonyoung wrapped his strong arms around your frame, engulfing you in a sweaty hug. 

“i don’t care,” he giggled, pulling you closer. “the game is over for me anyway, now that i’ve got you”. 

mingaho

place: painting class

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d be the best listener. i know that is the bare minimum, but at the same time the bare minimum is in hell so… yeah. you’ll never meet a better listener than hao, who could sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair, covered in paint and listen to you for ages

what they would be like taking you out: such a gentleman, to the point where you start wondering if it’s not a dream. gentle, funny, kind, understanding, charming - you could go on for forever trying to describe minghao. all of that said, though, hao would honestly be so so nervous, because come one… so many things could go wrong… and he seriously liked you. like really really liked you.

“how the hell did you manage to get your paints to look like that?” you pointed at hao’s palette that was full of pretty colours, unlike yours. unfortunately. 

“hm?” he mumbled and looked over at your station. you could see the smile forming on his gorgeous face, but since he was the textbook definition of a green flag, whatever you want to call it, he quickly composed himself and pointed at the paints in front of him. “just mix this and this.” 

“uh, yeah,” you huffed, “i did the same and mine looks like shit. literally.” 

this time he couldn’t help but laugh. “let me help, yeah?”

dino

place: a board game cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d try his best to play all of your favorite board games, because one thing about chan - he sucks at understanding game rules (seriously, all of his brain cells would be sweating to understand the game). so it’d truly be heartwarming how this precious boy would try so hard to understand what would be going in front of him. 

what they would be like taking you out: stressed. and. nervous. as. fuck. he just doesn’t want to mess it up, okay? chan knows he’s handsome and pretty and funny and charming, BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER!!! all of his rational thinking flies out of the window whenever he’s around you, and “what were you saying, i was too busy staring at your beautiful eyes”. shakes like a leaf the whole time. 

you could clearly see a question mark forming above chan’s head, as you tried explaining the rules for the third time. usually, you’d be quite annoyed at the person for still not getting what you were saying, but he looked so adorable, with his big puppy eyes and all, that you had to stop yourself from cooing out loud. 

“i’m sorry,” chan said, looking down. “i’m just not the best at understanding games.” 

you leaned over the table and put your hand over his. his head whipped up so quickly you wondered whether he didn’t pull a muscle doing that. 

“it’s okay, channie,” you smiled at him. “we can play something else, y’know?” 

he shook his head, and scooted his chair to sit closer to you. “no, no. let’s try again. i promise i’ll get it this time”.

[justyourusualash]

His Fault | A.H.

summary: the team calls hotch, but he doesn’t pick up. is he alright?

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: mention of the stabby incident, making out, sorta public, teeny weeny bit of crying, its a tiny bit worrisome in the beginning but then its super hilarious, the horizontal tango hit an unexpected commercial break (coitus interruptus)

wc: 720

a.n: guys this is my first hotch fic. its not the indian-american!reader ive been working on. im just trying to put myself on the tag soo here we gooo

“Uhh… guys?” Emily started and the rest of them looked at her with questioning gazes.

“Yes, Emily?” JJ asked, getting worried.

“I’ve been trying to call Hotch, and he isn’t picking up. And considering what happened the last time he didn’t pick up our calls…”

“He got stabbed in his own apartment.” Derek interrupted.

“I think we should go to his apartment and make sure he’s okay.” Emily finished, glaring at him.

“She’s right. But, how will we get in?” Penelope’s arrival was signalled by the jingle of her bracelets.

“Rossi has a key.” Spencer pointed out.

“For emergencies!” Dave exclaimed.

“This is an emergency! We don’t know where or in what state our boss is!” JJ argued and hearing that, Dave relented.

They entered his apartment guns held carefully behind their backs, with Penelope trailing behind them, just in case something was wrong. But, Hotch was not there. “Now what?” Spencer asked, looking around his boss’ apartment.

“Now we wait. If something is wrong we’ll get an indication of it and if nothing is wrong, Hotch will come back and we’ll explain everything to him.” Derek said and everyone agreed.

They waited for about fifteen minutes, when something slammed against the front door and they all brought their guns out again. They then heard the unmistakable sound of Hotch’s keys, the door opened and…

It was her fault that he was half-hard by the time they got to the restaurant, she just looked so good in that dress.

It was her fault that he was completely hard by the time they left the restaurant, she was teasing him so much.

It was her fault that they were making out in the elevator of his apartment building, she showed him a peek of the navy blue lingerie she was wearing just for him.

It was her fault that he was letting her unbutton his shirt in the elevator, she put his hand on her thigh and it was gliding up with a mind of its own.

It was her fault that he all but slammed her into the door of his apartment, she just kissed him so good.

It was her fault that he let her push his shirt off of his shoulders when he closed the door by slamming her into it, she just tasted so-

“Hotch!”

He turned around reaching for his gun on instinct when he realized that it was his team, standing in the living room of his apartment.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment at 9:30 at night?!” Aaron exclaimed, shielding y/n as he handed her his shirt to put on.

“You gave me a key!” Dave argued.

“For emergencies! Stop snickering, y/n.” He looked behind him and bit his tongue to stop himself from smiling as he looked at her.

“Give me the keys and get out of my apartment.” He plucked the keys out of Dave’s hands and turned around to face his girlfriend. “These are yours now.” He said, placing them in her hand.

“What if you need something and you’re not close to your apartment and it’s closer to go from the office?” Derek asked as a ploy to get the keys back.

“You will get the keys back when I decide that you won’t storm my apartment if I don’t pick up a call from you guys. Now, out of my apartment please.”

He turned around after closing the door to find y/n looking at him with tears in her eyes.

“Baby!” He took her face in his hands, worried. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“You gave me the keys to your apartment!”

“I trust you, sweet girl.”

“We’ve only been dating for four months.”

“It’s long enough for me to trust you with my life, baby. That, and I kinda wanna come home one day and see you standing there with nothing but my shirt on.” He smirked at her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Oh you horny, horny old man. I love you so much.” She smiled as she reached up to kiss him.

“I love you too, pretty girl” He beamed as they kissed all the way back to his bedroom. It was his fault he gave her the key to his apartment, he just loved her so much.

[xhyjin]

`⎚⩊⎚´ nerdjo !

- nerdy history student gojo who is actually very helpful and polite but not when it comes to the last book of karl d. kryter that you just happen to need for an assignment.

- gojo x reader nerd gojo x reader gojo x gn reader

- art credit to leimiruu on X

- taglist @sleepykittyenergy @do-morochaa @zoeyflower

you had been staring at your laptop screen for hours, trying to find something, anything, that could help with your psychology project that your professor assigned last minute. the more you scrolled on endless websites and youtube videos the less you found and the more stuff didn’t make sense. after a deep breath and a frustrated sigh, you grabbed you closed your laptop and made your way on campy from your dormitory to the university’s library, hoping that the books there could offer something more useful.

the scent of books filed the air as you wandered through the aisles, scanning titles, but it wasn’t until you reached the very back that you saw it — the book you’d been desperately trying to find pngs of: The Effects of Noise on Man. just as your hand was reaching for it another hand grabbed it first. you turned to see who grabbed it, an annoyed expression creeping onto your face as you looked at the man who snatched your book.

he was tall, with snowy white hair and a lean build, his glasses crooked on his nose. he was already flipping through the pages, completely absorbed as though he’d discovered the secret to endless wealth. “hey,” you said, your voice tight with frustration. he didn’t seem to hear you—or he chose to ignore you—because he kept turning the pages, not even sparing a glance in your direction.

“excuse me, i’m talking to you,” you said, a little louder this time, still trying to keep your voice down in the quiet library. finally, the man turned his head toward you, his mouth slightly agape. he looked you up and down, making you cross your arms over your chest. what was his problem?

“sorry… did you say something?” he asked, his tone a bit distant. “yeah, i was going to say that i wanted that book,” you replied, your eyes flicking to the one he was holding so casually in his hands. “this?” he said, following your gaze and holding the book out in front of him.

“yes, that book! i was about to grab it when you snatched it from me,” you said, still irritated. you were running on five hours of sleep and a can of coke—you couldn’t help but be a little pissy.

“i didn’t snatch it,” he responded calmly. “it was on that shelf. i snatched it from the shelf, not from you.” he pointed to the spot where the book had been. “besides, i got it first,” he added, tucking the book back under his arm and turning to walk away. “wait,” you called out, stepping forward. he turned around with an eyebrow raised, and for the first time, you really noticed how striking his blue eyes were. but that wasn’t the point.

“i really need that book,” you said, your tone more polite now, almost desperate. “please?” you added, your voice softer, hoping he’d reconsider. he stared at you for a moment, as if weighing your words. the silence between you stretched for a bit, and you couldn’t tell if he was considering your request or just enjoying the fact that he had the upper hand. finally, he sighed, looking down at the book in his hands.

“look, i’ve been trying to get my hands on this for weeks,” he said, almost like he was talking to himself. “and now that i have it, i’m not exactly in a hurry to let it go.” you fought to keep your patience. “i get it, but i really need it for this project. i’m stuck and this is the last piece i need.” he glanced at you again, his expression softening just a little. “what’s the project about?” “psychology,” you replied quickly. “something about how noise affects humans, but all the online sources are garbage. i need a real quote from this book.”

he hummed thoughtfully, still holding it close to his chest. then, without warning, he raised an eyebrow. “how about this? we make a deal.” you frowned. “a deal?” “yeah.” he shifted the book to one hand, offering you a teasing smile. “you can have it for a week, but then it’s mine for a week. sound fair?” you thought for a moment, feeling both relieved and a little irritated at his smug attitude. but honestly, it was your best option. “fine, but you’re not gonna keep it forever, right?” he chuckled, his blue eyes glinting. “promise. but i’m not letting go of it just yet.”

you nodded, still a bit wary, but relieved that you at least had a plan. “deal,” you said, holding out your hand. he looked at it for a moment, then shook it firmly, his grip warm but somehow still carrying that casual confidence. “great,” he said, tucking the book under his arm. “i’ll bring it to the library in a week. just don’t lose it, alright?”

you rolled your eyes but smiled. “i’ll keep it safe.” he turned to walk away, but then paused, glancing over his shoulder. “by the way,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “i’m satoru.” you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden introduction. “uh, y/n,” you replied, feeling slightly awkward. he gave you a nod, then walked off, leaving you standing there with your thoughts swirling. was this how things usually went when you needed a book for a project? probably not.

the week dragged on, and you found yourself counting down the days until you could finally get your hands on the book again. in the meantime, you worked on your project, doing your best with what you had. but every time you hit a dead end, you couldn’t help but think of that book, sitting just out of reach.

when the day finally came, you made your way back to the library, hoping to catch gojo and get your hands on the effects of noise on man. you didn’t know why you were feeling so nervous about it, but there was something about him that made you second-guess yourself. maybe it was the way he casually handled the book like it was some sort of prized possession. or maybe it was the fact that you were about to face him again after that first strange interaction.

as you walked through the aisles, you spotted him near the back, flipping through a different book. his snowy hair was even messier today, and his glasses were sitting crookedly on his nose again.

“hey,” you called out, walking up to him.

he looked up, and that familiar, teasing smile crept across his face. “hey, y/n. didn’t think you’d actually show up.” you crossed your arms, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “you really think i was just going to leave the book with you?”

“well, i mean… i wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he said with a playful shrug, holding out the book toward you. “but here you go. i kept it safe.” you took it from him, feeling a little bit lighter now that it was finally back in your hands. “thanks,” you muttered, feeling a little awkward.

“no problem.” he looked at you for a moment, then his eyes darted to the book in your hands. “so, what’s the project about again?”

you sighed, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “it’s about how noise affects people. you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find anything useful. this book is like the only thing that’s going to help me.” “sounds boring,” he said bluntly, his expression unbothered. “but hey, at least you’ll be able to say you did something good for society.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “i guess.”

“alright, well,” he said, stepping back and stretching. “it was nice doing business with you, y/n. just remember, you’ve got to bring it back in a week, or i’m coming after you.” “deal,” you said, offering him a smile. “i’ll be back, don’t worry.” as you walked away with the book, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just some random encounter.

the next week came by faster than you expected, and before you knew it, you were heading back to the library to return the book. you’d managed to get a good amount of work done, but you couldn’t deny the curiosity you had about gojo. he’d been on your mind more than you cared to admit, even though you hadn’t exactly planned for that.

when you walked into the library, you spotted him in the same spot, buried in a stack of books. he looked up as you approached, and that same mischievous grin flashed across his face. “back so soon?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. you held out the book to him. “it’s yours,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your heart was beating a little faster than usual.

he took the book with a smile. “thanks. so, did you actually use it for your project, or was it just an excuse to come see me again?” he teased. you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the small smile creeping up your face. “i did use it, actually. and if you keep saying things like that, you’re going to make me regret it.”

“oh, i’m sure you’ll survive.” he chuckled, looking at the book in his hands before turning back to you. “so, how’s the project coming along?” “good,” you said, crossing your arms. “i think i’ll actually finish it on time. what about you? you still planning on hoarding all the best books around here?”

he shrugged nonchalantly. “well, someone has to make sure they don’t go missing.” you smirked. “right. so, what exactly are you majoring in, anyway? history, i’m guessing?”

his eyes twinkled. “yeah, history. i know, kind of a nerdy choice, right?” “kind of,” you agreed with a teasing grin. “what’s so interesting about history anyway?” he leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “history’s all about learning from the past, y’know? understanding how we got to where we are now. it’s like a puzzle. plus, there are so many cool stories no one ever tells you about.”

“sounds pretty fascinating,” you said, genuinely intrigued. “so, what’s your favorite period in history?”

he smirked. “now that’s a tough one. but if i had to pick, i’d say ancient civilizations. the Egyptians were onto something.”

you both laughed, and for a moment, it felt like a real conversation. like you were actually getting to know each other. then, just as you were about to say something else, he looked at you with a strange glint in his eye. “you know,” he said casually, “i actually finished the book the first week i had it.”

“what?” you blinked, surprised. “but then why did you keep it?” he shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “i just wanted an excuse to keep coming back here. thought i might see you again.” you blinked, taken aback by his honesty. and maybe, just a little bit, by the way his words made your heart skip. “you’re not as bad as i thought,” you said, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

“glad to hear it,” he said, holding your gaze for a moment before his smile softened. “you know,” he said, tapping the book lightly in his hands, “since i finished the book, it’s all yours to have now.” “really?” you raised an eyebrow, surprised. “you’re just giving it to me?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “why not? i already read it. and besides, you’re gonna need it more than i do.” you hesitated, still a little taken aback by how casual he was being about it. “well, thanks. i didn’t expect that.”

“no problem,” he said, then paused, as if considering something. “hey, when you’re done with your project… maybe we could grab lunch or something. i mean, we’ve been talking about this book for a while, and it’d be nice to actually talk in person—no pressure or anything.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. “lunch?”

“yeah,” he said, his smile widening a bit. “i figure we can discuss the book… or, you know, talk about whatever. no rush.” you bit your lip, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. this felt… unexpected, but also a little exciting. “uh, sure. that sounds good,” you said, trying to sound casual, but not quite pulling it off.

he grinned, clearly pleased with your response. “cool. just let me know when you’re done, and we’ll set it up. you nodded, not sure what to make of the sudden shift in the conversation. but there was no denying that you were curious to see where this would go.

[kkentobox]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SAY MEOW! W/ JSCHLATT.

description: when schlatt misses his two cats back home, he finds comfort in the little japanese pet shelter! what melts his heart even more? seeing all the animals take a special liking towards his partner.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀tags: gender neutral reader! establish relationship, pure fluff, jack & trevor mentions, reader being a cat whisperer, mentions of future children.

author’s note: did you guys miss me? ;p say yes or i’m LEAVING. i also noticed i finally have enough posts to make a masterlist, so i promise that’ll be up soon! if you guys have any ideas on what i should upload next, let me know, feedback is always welcome! reblogs & likes are always appreciated <3! do not steal or plagiarize any work belonging to kkentobox !

the group had taken a pause in filming, the calm atmosphere of the shelter almost feeling too intimate to push cameras into the faces of the animals. but within five minutes of being in there, jay had managed to attach himself to a tiny orange kitten; “he’s just like jambo when he was a baby” he said with a sparkling look in his eyes.

stuck to his hip, you watched with endearing eyes as he pet the small creature cradled in his arms, “do you think we can smuggle him back home?” he whispered into your ear, immediately smiling at how you cringed from how ticklish the air felt so close to your ear. “i can stuff him under my shirt and gaslight the worker i was already pregnant coming in.”

the kitten had been peacefully dozing off with the gentle strokes schlatt had placed on his head, with sleepy eyes it looked up at you upon hearing your voice, only to grow restless in jay’s arms.

frowning at the sudden change, schlatt safely released him onto the ground before watching the cat jump into your lap. furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity and sadness, “what the fuck man?” he groaned quietly.

jack, with a small dog in his arms, began laughing upon realizing schlatt was genuinely upset that the cat no longer liked him. with laughter coming out of your mouth as well, you couldn’t resist holding the kitten close to your chest. it wasted no time in feeling comfortable, purring against the fabric of your shirt and snuggling in deeper.

“poor baby, he didn’t deserve you..” you cooed down at the kitten, “damn right he didn’t.” “i wasn’t talking to you, jay.” “fuck you.”

though he didn’t understand why the cat suddenly didn’t like him, he wrapped an arm around your waist to bring the two of you in closer. “aw, look, he’s sleeping!” you excitedly whispered, looking up at jay with a wide smile. he couldn’t help but match your energy, “i see that, probably found his new home there, baby.”

trevor and jack normally like to give the two of you privacy by keeping to themselves, this time they couldn’t help but truly watch over how enamored their tough friend looked watching you admire the kitten in your arms. “i can’t tell if he looks stupid or sweet..” “he’s like.. both? i can’t decide if i like it or not.” trying to distract themselves with their own pets, every couple seconds they’d spare a glance at the two of you and snicker.

“jay.. look at the other cats real quick..” you had looked up and were taken off guard at the other cats in front of you guys, seemingly trying to scratch their way out of their cages while looking directly at you guys. “you’re a pussy whisperer, doll.” a deadpan look was thrown in his direction, one that didn’t wipe the smug smirk off his face.

the worker noticed the behavior of the other animals, coming over to see if they’d continue if she placed the sleeping kitten in your arms back into it’s cage. “they’re taking my baby away.” you jokingly sulked against schlatt, “you’re starting a revolt, you deserve it.” pressing a kiss to your hair after you gently slapped his chest.

only the cats hadn’t stopped. they continued. they all wanted to be held by you, which only made schlatt more jealous at the fact they didn’t want him too. taking this as a sign to leave so they can settle down, the group made their way back onto the quiet streets of japan.

“can cats imprint on people? what if i’m destined to take all of those cats?” looking at schlatt, his arm being held by your two arms as you walked behind jack and trevor.

shaking his head, “that’s not fair, doll. they’d have a favorite parent, at least jambo and soup love the two of us equally.” enjoying his response, you added “i honestly don’t see anything wrong with that, jay.” scoffing, he jokingly pushed you away, “you’re so greedy.”

quickly getting back into his embrace, “you’ll just have to accept that in every situation, i will be the favorite!” he peered down at you, a small smile growing on his lips the more he looked at you, “i suppose i can get used to it, just teach our actual kids to remember me once in a while, yeah?”

though the two of you had talked about your future together before, it always managed to make you swoon knowing how dedicated he was to make sure it happened. every mention he made of your future wedding, children, home left you wanting to kiss him stupid. he’s grown to make comments often the more you guys grew more serious and the longer you guys were together.

bringing your intertwined hands to your lips, leaving multiple kisses on the back of his hand, “our children are different.. i could never allow them to forget you.” humming in content at your response, feeling his chest warm up, “i’ll be marrying the right person then.” “that much was obvious, jay.”

[xoxochb]

Percy and reader are pillow talking and then he randomly decides to add in that they're technically related BYE.

oh he is so weird I want him

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“percy! I just washed these sheets for you this morning— you watched me do it too.”

the look on percy’s face is puzzling. “so?”

you open your mouth but no words fall from your lips. you close it and take a moment before taking another go at it. “so, you’re getting them all dirty with crumbs!”

“crumbs? you’re worried about crumbs?”

“yes.” your facial expression displays unamusement.

“you’re cute. that’s cute, sweet girl.” he laughs and shoves the rest of his cookie in his mouth. he only bothers to chew three quarters before continuing. “after we just had—”

“stop it.” your voice is calm. you sigh and rest your cheek on percy’s shoulder. very warm, he is. you nuzzle closer.

silence takes over the cabin. you enjoy it, because with percy it’s very rare you get any. he thoroughly enjoys talking.

your eyes scan the expanse of the room. dim-lighted besides a simple lamp on the bedside table. the moon shines additionally through the blue curtains, though only slightly.

the blankets covering your skin, newly washed and already ruined, are adorned with tiny plethoras of sea creatures ranging from tiny fish to sharks to seaweed, alongside a second blanket only a dark shade of blue.

the sheets match the first blanket, ocean-themed as well. and also the stuffed animals creepily watching you from the end of the bed. you choose to ignore those, however.

your silence is disrupted suddenly by a voice you wish you didn’t love so dearly. “do you know we’re technically related?”

by now, you’re used to comments like this. you inhale and close your eyes. “percy…”

“sweet girl.” you hear is smile through his tone.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you sit up. percy tightens his hold on your waist to keep you against him. you poke his head with your finger. “you have a brain. use it.”

“I was using it, that’s why I said that!”

“but now?!”

“yes now!” he takes toy gently and pulls you atop him. “when else?”

“percy—” you stop yourself for a moment. “I am in only my underwear right now, mind you, on your bed, at eleven twenty-seven at night.”

“I don’t see the problem, sweet girl.”

“the problem is that this is possibly the worst time to bring up that we’re related.”

percy shrugs. “I’m still not comprehending.”

it’s going to be a long night. a very long night.

[ierr]

nightmare cuddles // katsuki bakugo

↳ summary bakugo has a nightmare and can’t sleep without being in your arms.

a.n; hey guys..soooo sorry for the late update, this story was supposed to be posted last last saturday and I didn’t meet the deadline 💔 but anyways I hope this make up for it!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE VOTES ON THE DISCORD SERVER, 74% of you said yes to it, so it shall be done!! I don’t have an estimated time of when it will be done but when is, the link will be in one the stories!!

whenever katsuki would have nightmares the first thing he would do is walk towards your dorm, not liking the feeling of waking up with his heart raised, and sweat dripping from his head. luckily you being up studying, you heard a knock on your door, you perked up from your desk, pulling out an earbud looking up at your door hearing that same knock again. getting up placing down your pencil to open it. you thought it was going to be kiri or denki asking for one of your blankets again but was surprised to see your boyfriend?. "kat?." you were taken back by how fast he grabbed you, pulling you into a hug. his grip was tight. almost like he didn't want to let you go?. "hey, what's wrong? why are you shaking?." — "I just..had a nightmare." oh. you sighed moving your hand up to his hair, combing through it with a small smile, "you wanna talk about it baby?." he didn't say anything but nod his head.

apparently it was about what had happened at the hospital. after the fight with shigaraki, some was badly injured as some weren't, however..unfortunately you were one of the people who were put in the hospital. you had a coma for a full two weeks. from overusing your quirk too much in a span of one day put your life at risk which why many teachers including hawks said it was too dangerous for you to fight at the moment but being stubborn you did it anyways. your quirk is blood manipulation, you can manipulate your own blood cells and ever others. from using too much blood over time can put your life at risk, if you were to use too much you could potentially die. that’s what he’s afraid of. In his nightmare you didn't wake up and was pronounced dead. yelling and yelling begging for you to wake up but you didn’t..waking up with sweat dripping from his head, and his heart racing. you hummed after he was done explaining, "kat… I know what happened scared you— it scared everyone, but I promise i'm fine. I'm ok." you mumbled kissing the top of his head as he held you tighter, "I know..but these damn nightmares keep happening." he snarled but sighed, he cares too damn much about you, he loves you, you're literally the love of his life. the thought of ever losing you scared the living hell out of him, his heart couldn't handle all these damn emotions.

you've never seen kat be afraid as he was tonight. It made your heart sink..how long was he having these nightmares for? he kept a firm grip on you as you two were laid together, his arms wrapped around your waist, as you laid on his chest trailing small circles on his stomach. weirdly it calmed him down a little, knowing you're here laid against him. It calmed him down a little. breathing in and out, his heart felt softer, he sighed pinching your waist out of nowhere, jolting up. "the hell was that for?" you scoffed with a frown hearing him grunt looking away from you. "don't scare me like that again..idiot." he muttered and you rolled your eyes with a small smile, "I won't." you chuckled, but he turned to face you, furrowed eyebrows. "i'm serious." when you heard his tone, your face softened more, "kat..it won't happen again. I can swear it to you. plus.. aizawa won't let me train for awhile till i'm fully healed. you have nothing to worry about.." it looked like he had doubt in your words but sighing in defeat he nodded his head believing you. you smiled, "will you be able to sleep now?" you asked and he nodded his head, pulling your body closer to his, fully cuddling.

"with you here.. I can.."

[antinousletmehit]

Just imagen reader making a flower crown for telemachus (odyssey version) and convinced him to wear for the day (he's just going to take it off when reader isn't around cause he would maybe be lowkey embarrassed)

୨୧┇pairing: odyssey!telemachus x reader

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus crossed his arms, glaring at the flower crown you had just finished placing on his head. The soft petals of pink and white blossoms rested awkwardly against his messy hair, a stark contrast to his usual rugged, war practiced demeanor. “There,” you said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire him. “You look so adorable.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a scowl. “Adorable?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disdain. “I’m not a child, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, already used to his grumpy attitude. “You’re not a child, but you are my lover. Which is why you’re going to wear that for the rest of the day. Promise me, Telemachus.”

He sighed dramatically, reaching up to adjust the crown that now felt like it was burning into his scalp. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do,” you said firmly, poking his chest with your finger. “You’re wearing it, and you’re going to look great in it. No arguments.”

“Fine,” he muttered, glaring at the ground. But as soon as you turned to leave, his face shifted into a full grimace. He tugged at the flower crown slightly, testing how easily it could come off. Once you were out of sight, he groaned and yanked it off his head, tossing it onto a nearby table like it was cursed. “What am I, some kind of garden ornament?” he grumbled to himself. “A flower crown. Of all things. Gods, she’s lucky I like her.”

For a moment, he stared at the crown, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt. But the thought of being seen by anyone—anyone—while wearing it sent shivers down his spine. He could already hear the mocking laughter from the men in the palace. “Nice crown, prince! Did your lover braid it for you? Going to battle with petals, are we?”

“Nope. Not happening,” he said firmly.

The rest of the afternoon passed with Telemachus carefully avoiding the room where the flower crown lay abandoned, all while grumbling under his breath about how “ridiculous” the whole thing was. When you returned later, the first thing you noticed was his bare head. “Telemachus,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Where’s the crown?”

He froze, guilt flashing across his face for a moment before he covered it with a haughty expression. “Oh, that thing? I, uh… took it off. It didn’t suit me.”

Your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped. “You took it off? After you promised me you’d wear it all day?”

“Well, yeah,” he said with a shrug, crossing his arms. “It was embarrassing. I’m not walking around looking like a floral bouquet just so you can have a laugh.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “It wasn’t for me to laugh at, Telemachus! I made it for you because I thought it would look nice on you! Because I thought you’d appreciate it!”

He flinched at the hurt in your voice, but his pride refused to let him back down. “Well, maybe next time make something less… humiliating.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “You know what? Fine. I won’t make you anything ever again.”

You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” For the rest of the evening, Telemachus sat in the quiet space, the flower crown still sitting on the table where he had left it. Every time he looked at it, he felt a twinge of guilt. Eventually, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe I was a little harsh,” he muttered to himself, picking up the flower crown. When you returned the next morning, you found him sitting at the table, the flower crown perched on his head. He looked up at you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Look,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I… I was a…bit rude… yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “And?”

“And… the crown isn’t that bad,” he admitted grudgingly, avoiding your gaze. “It’s actually… kind of nice.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you walked over and adjusted the crown on his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re groveling, Telemachus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

[twoplayergaymers]

A Sign Of Affection—

Part One// Part Two// Part Three

❋ deaf! Bakugo x Fem Interpreter! Reader

❋ Interpreting for Dynamight: How Hard Could It Be?

❋ a note before you begin: wow finally the last part! Thank you so much for all the love I’ve received! Same thing applies to dialogue as the last part, angst..sorry, barely proofread

Hours later, you’ve paced your living room so much there’s practically a permanent path in the carpet. You’re replaying today’s events over and over and as much as you want to pretend it’s nothing, Talia’s words are still in your head.

“That man doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t do shit to be nice”

You’re biting your nails as the knock on the door pulls your from your thoughts

The door swings open and reveals Talia, paper bags in arms. “I’m here!” She says. “Your text was so vague ‘please come over it’s important!’ I didn’t know what the vibe was so I think I got everything? Wine.. ice cream.. bunch of junk I dunno” she giggles out the last part but the serious expression on your face brings her back to reality “oh shit..”

You step aside wordlessly to let her in, closing and locking the door behind her and she’s already putting the ice cream into the freezer and grabbing two glasses and the wine opener as you’re throwing yourself onto the couch.

She places the glasses on your coffee table while she makes work of the bottle. “So.” she says casually, the cork popping loose, “start talking”

You groan into your throw pillows. “I like him.”

“come again?” she asks, tone teasing and you can hear the smirk in her voice without even looking up at her. “Please don’t be a bitch right now I know you heard me”

Talia laughs as she pours the wine, shaking her head. “Oh, I definitely heard you. I just wanted to make sure you heard you.” You sit up, grabbing one of the glasses she sets down. “Talia, I’m serious. This isn’t funny.”

“That’s why it’s funny,” she replies, taking a seat beside you and giving you a knowing look. “You’ve been dancing around this for weeks. Weeks. And now you’re finally admitting it.” She leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. “So? What happened?”

You take a long sip of wine, debating how much to share. “It’s just… he’s so frustrating, and he drives me insane, and yet somehow he still manages to—ugh!” You groan again, gesturing wildly. “He signed that I was pretty to me today during a press conference, Talia. And I cannot stop thinking about it.”

Talia’s eyes go wide, and her jaw drops. “No way. During the press conference?”

“Yes!” you exclaim, slumping back into the couch. “I was a mess this morning, late to work, and he still… he said I was pretty. And then had the nerve to smirk about it like he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Because he does know,” Talia says simply, swirling her glass. “He’s not stupid, you know. He’s Bakugo. Dynamight. he doesn’t do anything by accident.”

You groan again, dragging a hand down your face. “That’s the problem, Talia! He’s… him! And I’m… me! This shouldn’t even be a thing, but here I am losing sleep over it.”

Talia grins and nudges you with her elbow. “You’re losing sleep because you like him. Admit it. Fully. Out loud.”

You glare at her but know there’s no escaping it. “Fine,” you mutter. “I like him. Happy?”

Talia clinks her glass against yours. “Ecstatic. Now, let’s figure out what you’re gonna do about it.”

You stare at her. “What am I gonna do about it? Nothing! I’m going to do nothing!”

She takes a long sip of wine and raises her eyebrow at you “so what? You’re going to sit there everyday and pine? Please, y/n, you’re much too pretty for that sad shit.”

You shoot her a look. “I’m not pining. I’m just… processing.” She snorts. “Processing? Sure. Totally healthy to pace holes into your carpet over someone who called you pretty.”

“It’s not just that,” you snap, running a hand through your hair. “It’s everything. He’s complicated and stubborn and way too good at getting under my skin. And then he does something sweet, like making a little girl’s entire life just by talking to her, and I—” Talia leans in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And you melt. Admit it.”

You groan, pressing the glass of wine to your forehead. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t. You hate that I’m right,” she teases. “So what’s stopping you? He clearly likes you too.”

You sit up straighter at that, shaking your head. “He does not.” “Oh, please,” Talia scoffs. Talia snorts, setting her glass down as she fixes you with a knowing look. “This man signed that you were pretty during a press conference, in front of millions of people. If that’s not bold, I don’t know what is.”

You shake your head, desperate to downplay the moment before your face bursts into flames. “He knows nobody else there knew sign, and he wasn’t even on camera at the time. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Talia gasps, mock-offended, clutching her chest. “Not that big of a deal? Are you kidding me? That makes it more of a deal! It wasn’t for the cameras. It wasn’t for anyone else. It was just for you.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you blink at her, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find a rebuttal. “I—no, it—it wasn’t like that. He’s just…” “Just into you,” Talia finishes, her tone smug as she leans back on the couch, wine glass in hand.

Your cheeks burn, and you down the rest of your wine, hoping the flush on your face can be blamed on the alcohol. “Even if he is—which he isn’t—it doesn’t matter. We work together. It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated is just an excuse people use when they’re scared,” Talia says bluntly, pouring you another glass. “So what’s the real reason?”

You hesitate, swirling the wine in your glass as you try to put the knot of emotions in your chest into words. “I just… I don’t think I’m what someone like him wants. Or needs.”

Talia’s expression softens, and she places a hand on your knee. “Hey. Stop that. You’re amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you. If Bakugo can’t see that, though I’m pretty sure he does, then that’s his problem, not yours.”

You glance at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “When did you get so wise?”

She grins, holding up her glass. “Hey I’ve always been wise! You’re just finally listening!”

You clink your glass against hers, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Thanks, Talia.”

“Anytime,” she replies, leaning back on the couch with a satisfied smirk. “Now, let’s strategize. Step one: stop denying your feelings. Step two: figure out how to get Bakugo to admit his. Step three—”

You groan loudly, cutting her off. “Talia, I swear—”

She laughs, holding her hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. No step three. Yet. But I’m telling you, this is gonna work out. Just wait and see.”

You roll your eyes, but a small part of you—a hopeful, stubborn part—wonders if maybe she’s right. You push the thought aside for now; overthinking won’t solve anything tonight. Right now, you just want to enjoy the time with Talia.

Scooting closer, you grab the blanket draped over the arm of the couch and spread it across both your laps. “Alright, no more of this. Let’s focus on something less complicated,” you say, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the movie options.

Talia grins, leaning into you as she sips her wine. “Fine by me. Something cheesy and predictable? Bonus points if someone has a dramatic airport chase scene.”

You snort and select a romcom that promises exactly that. The opening credits roll as you settle back against the couch, the tension in your shoulders finally easing.

The rest of the night passes in laughter and shared commentary about the movie’s ridiculous plot twists. The bottle of wine empties quickly, and by the time the credits roll, both of you are drowsy under the weight of the blanket.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself relax. Whatever’s going on with Katsuki, it can wait. Tonight is for you and your best friend, and that’s more than enough.

You walk into the office the next morning with a strange, uneasy feeling you can’t quite shake. It’s not like you expect anything to change—admitting you like Bakugo to Talia doesn’t magically alter the dynamic between you two. But now that you’ve acknowledged your feelings, every glance, every moment with him feels heavier, like you’re hyper-aware of his presence.

And you are.

Maybe you’d admit the way you feel, but every single voice of reason is screaming at you not to. Don’t do it. It’s a mistake. It’s just a crush and it’ll pass.

When you get to your desk, you glance toward his office out of habit, finding the door slightly ajar. You can just make out the blonde spikes of his hair behind his chair, his broad shoulders hunched over paperwork. He doesn’t look up when you walk in, and for some reason, that stings a little. Usually, he at least gives you a curt nod or some kind of acknowledgement, but today… nothing.

Shaking it off, you settle into your seat and get to work. Maybe he’s just focused.

But as the hours tick by, that feeling doesn’t go away. He’s quiet—too quiet. No sarcastic comments when he passes your desk, no requests for coffee or updates, no snarky remarks during meetings. You tell yourself you’re imagining it, that he’s just having an off day.

It’s not until the next day, when lunch rolls around, that your suspicions start to feel like reality.

“Hey, you still good for lunch today?” you ask, poking your head into his office. You try to sound casual, like you haven’t been overthinking every interaction since you walked in yesterday.

He doesn’t look up from his laptop. “Can’t. Busy.”

The response is so abrupt it almost feels rehearsed.

“Oh,” you say, blinking. “Uh, okay. Another time then?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

His tone is clipped, dismissive, and he’s still not looking at you. You linger in the doorway for a moment, waiting for… something. A glance, an apology, anything. But it never comes.

You nod to yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat, and step back. “Alright. Let me know.”

The door clicks shut behind you, and the uneasiness from yesterday flares into something sharper.

By the third day of his weird behavior, the uneasiness has settled into a constant weight in your chest. Every time you try to reach out—whether it’s a quick message, a casual question, or even just passing by his office—he’s distant, vague, and uninterested. You text him that evening, hoping to clear the air.

You: “Hey, everything okay? You’ve been kinda off lately.”

The reply comes almost an hour later, short and unhelpful.

Katsuki: “Fine. Just busy.”

You frown at the screen, debating whether to push further, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the flatness of his response, or the way he’s been acting, but you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

And then, just as you’re about to respond, you notice something.

The text thread is gone.

You stare at your phone, disbelief flooding your veins as you realize what just happened.

He blocked you.

Your mind scrambles for an explanation. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe his phone glitched. Maybe—no, you stop yourself. There’s no justifying this. He’s been pulling away, piece by piece, for days now, and this feels like the final nail in the coffin.

You sit on the edge of your bed, phone still clutched in your hand as you try to make sense of it. What the hell just happened?

Was it something you did? Something you said? You replay every interaction in your head, searching for where things went wrong. But no matter how much you analyze it, you keep coming back to the same conclusion: you didn’t do anything. This is him.

And it hurts.

The next morning, you’re determined to act like everything’s fine. It’s not, obviously, but you refuse to let anyone in the office see you crack. Especially not him.

When you walk in, you don’t even glance toward his office. You focus on your desk, your work, anything to keep yourself occupied. But ignoring him is easier said than done when his presence looms so large, even when he’s not in the room.

The tension builds all day, and by the time you clock out, you’re emotionally drained. You make it home, kick off your shoes, and collapse onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

You’re trying not to think about him—trying so hard—but every quiet moment drags your mind back to the same place. To the way he called you pretty, the way he made you feel seen, the way he’s been acting like you don’t exist.

And that’s when you decide.

You need a distraction.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts until you find the number you haven’t used since you’d seen it on that note. The guy with the easy smile and the bad pick-up lines. The guy you barely even remember

You: “Hey, are you free tonight?”

When he texts back almost immediately, you hesitate for half a second before replying. You set up the date—nothing fancy, just drinks at a casual spot downtown, maybe an appetizer if you’re feeling adventurous and then toss your phone aside, already second-guessing yourself.

You don’t like him. You know that. But maybe you could. Maybe spending time with someone who isn’t Katsuki Bakugo will remind you that the world doesn’t revolve around him.

Hours later, you’re at the bar, sitting across from the guy who’s trying way too hard to make you laugh. You’re smiling, you’re nodding, you’re even sipping your drink like you’re having a good time, but your mind is elsewhere.

It’s not working.

You’re halfway through the date when you feel it—that prickle on the back of your neck, like someone’s watching you. You glance around the room, and your stomach drops when your eyes land on him.

Katsuki.

He’s sitting in a booth on the other side of the bar, surrounded by a few pro heroes you recognize. He’s not looking at them, though. His gaze is locked on you, jaw tight, expression unreadable.

Your date says something, but you don’t hear it. The noise of the bar fades as the two of you stare at each other from across the room.

You look away first, heart pounding in your chest. What the hell is he doing here?

The bar is too loud. The kind of loud that drowns out every coherent thought if you let it. Katsuki doesn’t let it.

He’s leaned back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the back of the booth, but his eyes are locked on you. He doesn’t even realize how hard his jaw is clenched until Kirishima nudges him with an elbow.

“Yo, you good?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer. He can’t. His mind is a tangled mess, and it all leads back to you. Sitting there with that guy. Laughing, even though Katsuki knows damn well it’s not real. He can read it all over your face.

And yet, he can’t look away.

His drink sits untouched on the table, condensation pooling beneath the glass, but he doesn’t notice. His thoughts are too loud.

Why does it bother me so much?

It’s not like you’re his. You never were. And yet the thought of you smiling at someone else, laughing at someone else’s stupid jokes—it makes something inside him twist in a way he can’t name.

And then, there’s that other thought. The one that’s been festering since the moment you walked into his life.

She has too much power over me.

He grips his thigh under the table, grounding himself. It’s true, isn’t it? You’ve taken up space in his head he never meant to give you. It’s not just the way you make him feel—it’s what you represent.

He used to think his Deafness was just another part of him. Like his quirk, like his temper. Something he’d learned to live with.

And then you came along.

You, with your easy understanding and your patience and your damn compassion. You didn’t just see him. You knew him, in a way that made him feel vulnerable, and he hates it. He hates the way you make him feel exposed, like you can see right through him.

That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Power.

You have it, and he doesn’t. Not over himself, not over his own damn identity.

His grip on the glass tightens. He doesn’t need this. Doesn’t need you.

Kirishima’s voice cuts through his thoughts, though it’s muffled and distant, and he knows Eijirou knows he can’t hear him. Katsuki doesn’t bother trying to piece the words together. He just stands, shoving his hands into his pockets and muttering something about needing air.

You’d excused yourself to bathroom, feeling your hands go clammy and your heart race and you needed the relief of cool water. You don’t know how long you stand there, trying to pull yourself together, but when you finally leave the bathroom, he’s gone.

And somehow, that’s worse.

The rest of the night is a blur. You go through the motions, nodding along to your date’s stories and laughing in the right places, but your heart isn’t in it. Your thoughts are with Bakugo—his expression, the way he looked at you, and the fact that he just… left.

By the time you get home, you’re emotionally spent. You collapse onto your couch, replaying the night in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Why was he there? Why was he watching you?

You don’t have any answers, but one thing is clear.

Ignoring this was not going to be as easy as you thought.

The next morning you go through the motions, deciding fine, he wants to be that way and he can. You’re here to do a job and you will even if you hate the way there’s an ache in your chest.

You arrive at the agency, scanning you badge like usual only to be met with an unfamiliar red light and accompanied beeping. “Weird” you whisper to yourself, banging on the door a few times. You can see Talia at her desk and she walks over and opens up the door for you

“Sorry, my badge wasn’t working” you furrow your browns and shake your head in frustration. “No problem, girl,” she says with a small shrug, holding the door open for you as you walk inside. “It’s probably just a glitch. Happens sometimes.”

You nod, but you feel the weight of something off in the air as you head into the building. As you walk through the familiar halls, the quiet feels a little too heavy. You’re not sure why, but you can’t shake the feeling that something’s different.

You make your way upstairs, the thought of Bakugo weighing on your mind. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on. His behavior has been so strange lately—so distant. But you don’t have time to dwell on it. You sit down at your desk, hoping the distraction of work will ease your mind, but it doesn’t. Not when you keep thinking about him.

You glance around the office, everything still the same on the surface. But something about it feels off.

And then, you see him and it’s like a slap to the face.

Bakugo. Dynamight. Standing there, right across the room, and the moment your eyes lock, your breath hitches. There’s something different in his gaze—a cold, calculated look that doesn’t soften when it meets yours. The same gaze he gave you the first morning you’d arrived, when you were so sure you were about to help him in ways that mattered..and you see them. His hearing aids, it makes your heart drop

It’s like the whole world shifts with the realization.

He doesn’t need you anymore. He doesn’t need an interpreter.

Your feet move beneath you before your brain even catches up and you’re grabbing him, pulling him into his office and shutting..no slamming the door. You huff and your eyes search him for something, anything but you see nothing but his cold, crimson eyes.

You swallow hard, finally finding your voice again. “You… you got your hearing aids fixed?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The silence says everything.

“I’m not… your interpreter anymore, am I?” He shakes his head, his expression unreadable. “No.”

It feels like the room falls silent, even though it isn’t. The words and hands are heavy in the air. Your mind races, your chest tightening with each passing second. You can feel your heart breaking

You hold your dominant hand up beside your head, making a motion as if your flicking up into the air as you shake your head

DON’T UNDERSTAND.

“W-what about all your progress?” You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes and your voice is cracking almost pathetically. You can’t cry. You can’t cry because you don’t have a reason to, interpreters who get fired don’t cry.

Except… you’re not just an interpreter.

You’re something more. And you’re so damn tired of pretending you’re not.

He says nothing in return, but his eyes linger on you for a moment longer. You wish you could read him, but it’s impossible now. You can’t help but feel like you’ve lost something important, even though you don’t know what it is.

“Can we.. still have lunch together?” The words slip out before you can stop them, and you can’t help the way your chest tightens in that small flicker of hope. Maybe… maybe this isn’t all over. Maybe this rejection of his learning isn’t a rejection of you.

He looks down hesitating, taking a breath and opens his mouth to speak. His eyes flicker to you, and that’s when you see it—the flicker of recognition, the briefest trace of something almost human. He shuts his mouth with another shake of the head.

You notice the flicker in his eyes but It’s not enough to stop the ache inside you from spreading further, tearing at something you didn’t even realize would hurt you this much until now.

So he just didn’t want you. That harsh truth weighs on you like nothing else. It’s not just the physical presence of the hearing aids—it’s everything that they represent. The end of something you thought was real. Something you thought mattered to him.

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Instead, you just stand there, feeling the weight of what he’s done. Feeling the weight of what he’s taken from you without a single word, without a single explanation he leaves the room.

He doesn’t need you. And in that moment, you realize, you never really mattered to him.

You hold yourself together—barely. Your nails dig into your palms as you fight to stay composed, forcing the tears to wait. But the second the elevator doors close behind you, it’s like a dam breaks. Hot tears streak down your face, silent but unrelenting, as you descend. You can’t stop them, can’t stop the way your chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.

By the time you reach the lobby, your sobs are quiet but persistent, the ache in your throat growing unbearable. Talia’s voice calls out to you from the front desk, a mixture of concern and confusion. “Hey! Hey, what happened? Wait—”

You don’t stop. You can’t. You push through the front doors, ignoring her voice, knowing she can’t leave her station to follow you. The cold air outside hits you like a slap, but it does nothing to ground you. You’re too far gone, your mind replaying the scene over and over like some cruel, inescapable loop.

He doesn’t need you anymore. He doesn’t care.

You don’t even remember how you get home. The walk is a blur of noise and tears and a weight pressing down on your chest so heavy you’re sure it’ll crush you. When you finally make it back, the silence of your apartment is deafening. It surrounds you, suffocates you, fills every corner like it’s mocking your emptiness.

Your bag hits the floor, and you follow it, sinking to your knees as another sob tears its way out of you. You clutch your chest, trying to hold yourself together, trying to keep yourself from falling apart completely. But it’s no use.

It hurts.

It hurts in a way you can’t explain, in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s not just the loss of a job or the suddenness of it all—it’s him. It’s the way he looked at you, like you were nothing. Like everything you’d worked on, everything you’d shared, meant nothing to him. And maybe it didn’t. Maybe you were foolish to think it ever did.

You sit there for what feels like hours, your tears eventually slowing, replaced by a numbness that leaves you hollow. You’re not sure when your phone starts buzzing, but you glance at it long enough to see Talia’s name lighting up the screen. You don’t answer. You can’t. Not right now. Not when the sound of her voice will break you all over again.

You toss the phone onto the couch, curling up against the cushions and pulling a blanket over you like it might shield you from the world outside. But even as you close your eyes, the ache in your chest lingers, reminding you of what you’ve lost.

And for the first time in a long time, you’re not sure how to move forward.

It’s dark out when the front door opening makes you jump and there you see Talia, still fully adorned in her work clothes and a panicked expression kicking off her shoes in your front entry way. She closes the door behind her and crushes to your slumped form on the couch.

“You don’t think I know you keep the key under the mat? I’ve been calling you for hours!” She says, her tone sharp with worry but she softens when her eyes meet your puffy, red ones.

“It’s fine,” you mumble, barely lifting your head from the couch cushion. Your voice is hoarse, raw from hours of crying. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Stop it. Clearly, I did,” Talia shoots back, dropping her bag on the floor before sitting beside you. She sighs as she takes you in, her brows furrowed in concern. “What happened, babe? I’ve never seen you like this.”

You shake your head, willing the tears not to start again. “It’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.”

“Stop that,” she says firmly, reaching out to grab your hand. “You’re not stupid. Something happened. Talk to me.”

You don’t respond right away. Your throat feels tight, and for a moment, you think about brushing her off entirely. But the way she’s looking at you, like she won’t let you get away with it, makes you cave.

“It’s Bakugo,” you finally admit, your voice breaking on his name. The tears you were holding back spill over again, and you quickly wipe at them, frustrated with yourself. “He… he doesn’t need me anymore, Talia. He got his hearing aids fixed, and he fired me.”

Her face shifts from worry to disbelief, her mouth falling open. “He what?”

You nod, pulling your knees to your chest. “He didn’t say it outright, but my badge didn’t work this morning, and he… he told me I’m not his interpreter anymore. I think he knew exactly what he was doing.”

“Are you kidding me?” Talia’s voice rises in outrage, and she looks ready to storm out of your apartment and march back to his office. “That’s insane. You’ve been there for him every step of the way. You’ve helped him. And now he just—what? Tosses you aside?”

You shrug helplessly, your fingers twisting in the hem of your sweater. “I should’ve known better. I thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe it meant something. But it didn’t.”

“Oh, hell no.” Talia stands up, pacing the room as her anger radiates off of her. “This isn’t about you. This is his problem. You’ve done everything you could for him, and if he can’t see that, then that’s on him—not you.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Doesn’t really make it hurt any less.”

Talia stops pacing and sits back down, pulling you into a tight hug. “I know it doesn’t. But you’re not gonna sit here and blame yourself for this. You’re amazing at what you do, and if he can’t appreciate that, then he’s the one who’s losing out.”

Her words offer a small comfort, but the ache in your chest remains. You lean into her, closing your eyes and letting the silence stretch between you. For now, you’re grateful she’s here, even if nothing else makes sense.

She rubs your back for a few short moments before getting up and leaving the room, reappearing minutes later and helping your weak form to your feet, guiding you to the bathroom where she’s drawn you a warm bath. Steam rises, and the faint scent of lavender fills the air.

“Relax, love” she smiles. “Breathe, okay? Take your time in here. Call me if you need”

Tears prick your eyes at her thoughtfulness, and you manage a small nod, unable to speak. She squeezes your hand before leaving, and you lower yourself into the bath, the warmth wrapping around you like a fragile cocoon. For the first time all day, you feel a sliver of peace creeping in, though it doesn’t quite reach your chest. You let the water carry you for a while, letting yourself simply exist.

When you finally rinse off and step out, you make your way to your bedroom to find fresh sheets neatly made on your bed and your softest pajamas laid out. The sight makes your throat tighten, but in a different way—there’s comfort in knowing someone cares this much.

there’s a faint smell wafting through your small apartment and you, now dressed search for her to find her in the kitchen. humming softly to herself. She glances up the moment she notices you, her face lighting up.

“There she is! Feeling a little better, love?” she asks, setting down a spatula.

You give a small nod, though the heaviness in your chest hasn’t fully lifted. “A little,” you manage, your voice still shaky.

She smiles, turning back to the stove to plate the food. “So… I’m not the greatest cook. You know I’m no Bakugo, but—” She cuts herself off when she sees you wince at his name, muttering a quiet apology. After a beat, she places a plate in front of you and gestures toward the couch. “Come on. Let’s sit and eat.”

You feel bad, the meal looks delicious and you know she worked hard on it but you can’t bring yourself to eat it, there’s an emptiness, a hollowness but it’s not hunger. Talia watches as you push the food around your plate. Her smile fades, replaced by concern. “You need to eat,” she says gently but firmly. “I know you. You skipped breakfast this morning. Don’t try to deny it—I can tell.”

You shrug, your fork barely scraping the surface of your food. “I’m just… not hungry.”

“Babe, you have to take care of yourself,” she insists, her voice softening but still insistent. “I know today was awful, but you can’t keep running on empty.”

You don’t respond, your eyes fixed on the plate in front of you. The emptiness in your chest feels too big, too consuming to let anything else in. Talia places a hand on your knee, grounding you. “I know it hurts,” she whispers. “But you can’t let this break you. You’re stronger than this. Stronger than him.”

Her words stir something deep inside you, but the ache remains. You take a small bite, more for her than for yourself, and she offers a small, encouraging smile. “That’s my girl,” she says quietly.

The two of you sit in silence after that, the only sound the faint clink of her fork against her plate. Even though the pain doesn’t go away, having her there makes it feel just a little more bearable.

When you finish eating, Talia wordlessly takes your plate and hers, rinsing them off and placing them in the sink. She hums softly to herself, the sound grounding in its normalcy, as she washes the dishes. Afterward, she disappears into the bathroom to take a shower, calling out a quick, “I’m stealing your sweats!” before you hear the water turn on.

You crawl into bed, exhaustion weighing down your every move. The fresh sheets feel cool against your skin, the faint scent of lavender fabric softener lingering from earlier. By the time Talia returns, her damp curls are tied up, and she’s wearing your oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. She’s carrying a pint of ice cream in one hand and two spoons in the other.

Wordlessly, she slides into bed beside you, popping the lid off the ice cream and offering you a spoon. You take it, and for the next hour, you cuddle together, legs tangled beneath the blankets as you watch a lineup of terrible romcoms on your laptop. The kind of movies with cheesy dialogue and over-the-top plots that you usually roll your eyes at but now somehow find comfort in.

Every so often, Talia sneaks a glance at you. She doesn’t say anything when the tears start to fall again, silently wiping your cheeks with her sleeve and giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she says softly, her voice almost a whisper. “But you’re not alone, okay? You’ll never be alone.”

You nod, leaning into her warmth. For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself believe her. Even if the ache in your chest still lingers, you let yourself be held. Let yourself cry. Let yourself exist, just as you are, in that moment.

As the night drags on, the ice cream long forgotten and the romcoms playing in the background, you feel yourself start to relax in her arms. And though the pain hasn’t gone away, the weight of it feels a little less unbearable with her there by your side.

Bakugo sighs, staring at the ceiling above his bed His jaw clenched as the memory of her face flashed in his mind. The way you eyes had widened in confusion, then crumpled into something raw and broken when you realized what he was telling you. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the way your hands moved, shaky and uncertain, as you signed don’t understand.

You didn’t understand. Of course you didn’t. He’d made sure of that.

“You’re a fucking coward,” he muttered to himself, fisting the comforter around him

The truth was simple, but it was too ugly to say out loud. He couldn’t handle you anymore. Couldn’t handle the way you made him feel seen in ways that scared the shit out of him.

He’d spent his whole damn life being the best. Strong. In control. And yet, somehow, you had this hold over him. This power.

It wasn’t just you. It was everything you represented.

Being around you made him feel exposed, like you could see all the cracks he worked so hard to hide. And when you signed, when you looked at him like he was worth the effort, it was like you were holding up a mirror to all the things he didn’t want to face about himself.

You made him weak. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He stood abruptly, pacing the length of his bedroom.

He had his hearing aids now. He didn’t need to rely on anyone anymore. No interpreters. He could go back to being the Dynamight the world expected him to be. So why did it feel like he’d just thrown away something he couldn’t replace?

Bakugo stopped in front of the window, staring out at the city below. His reflection stared back at him, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t recognize the man in the glass.

“This is for the best,” he muttered, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

But the ache in his chest didn’t go away.

You feel a bit hollow as time goes on, your heart still tethered to the past despite the passing months. Every morning you wake up, you get dressed, and you go through the motions of your day. You’ve found yourself in a routine, one that doesn’t require too much emotional investment. But still, that ache—the one that first blossomed the day you left Bakugo’s office—hasn’t faded. It may have softened a little, but it’s still there and you find it pathetic

Talia is there, Her comforting presence fills the empty spaces in your life, and though you don’t deserve the kind of loyalty she gives you, she doesn’t care. She’s your friend, your rock, and for all the hurt you’ve experienced, her kindness is a balm for your soul. Even though this job broke your heart it brought you to her and for that you couldn’t be more grateful.

It’s been three months since you left the office that day. You get a new interpreting job at Red Riots agency, the same work, interpreting press conferences and such while working for the VRS. It gets you by.

Red Riot is calmer, and has this softness about him that comforts you. You like this job, everyone is kind and you have staff lunches together. It’s a far cry from the tension that always seemed to hang in the air at Bakugo’s agency, and you’ve started to find comfort in the mundane, in the simplicity of working with good people who care about each other.

But still, there are days when you find yourself staring off into space, the memories of Bakugo haunting you. It’s strange—how someone you once thought was nothing but a client could leave such an impression on your life. You shake your head, trying to push away the lingering thoughts. You’ve moved on, right? You’ve found someone else.

Mason.

The relationship is casual—something that started with an easygoing vibe, no expectations. He’s a good guy, in his own way. But there’s something missing. You don’t feel the spark, the connection you once thought would be there when you found someone else. He’s just filling the void left by someone else’s absence. And when he eventually leaves, when he decides he wants something more than you’re willing to offer, you don’t blame him.

He deserves more, just like you do.

You can’t love Mason—not in the way he needs you to. But you can’t love anyone the way you loved him either. That part of you is broken, fragile, and still stuck in the past. And when Mason walks out of your life, it stings, but it’s not the gut-wrenching pain you once felt. Instead, it’s a quiet acceptance that you can’t force something to be what it isn’t.

You’ll heal. You have to.

Days go by, and you settle into the rhythm of your new life. You’re getting used to being on your own, to not having that constant pull of someone you can’t reach, someone who made you feel like you were worth something and then yanked that validation away. The job, the quiet comfort of Red Riot’s agency, even the stillness in your apartment—it’s all a small, healing process.

Talia notices the change. You’re not as sad as you were, but there’s a quiet in your eyes, a space where something used to be. She’s not the type to press you about it, but you know she’s there, always. And sometimes, in the stillness of your shared moments, she asks about your day, about the people you’re meeting. It’s gentle, but the concern is there, too.

One afternoon, as the sunlight filters through your apartment, Talia shows up with her usual enthusiasm.

“I was thinking,” she says, her voice light, “that we should take a weekend trip. Just to get away, y’know?”

You look up from the book you’ve been skimming, surprised by the suggestion. “Where would we even go?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “but I thought it might be nice to shake things up. A change of scenery. You’re kind of… in this zone lately. I mean, I get it, but maybe it’s time for something new.”

Her words hit a little too close to home, but you don’t resist. You nod slowly. “Yeah… maybe.”

So you do, you book a little weekend get away to somewhere that might me warmer at the end of March. Somewhere remote and peaceful, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself get excited about something. It’s the promise of something different, something that doesn’t carry the weight of your past.

The day of the trip comes, and you pack with an ease that surprises you. You’ve never really been the type to just leave, but the idea of doing something just for you, for the sake of your peace, feels right. The car ride is full of chatter and laughter, the way it used to be before everything changed.

You spend the next few days enjoying the quiet. Talia insists on cooking meals, and you both take walks in the crisp air. Evenings are spent curled up by the fire, watching movies or talking about anything and everything. It’s healing, in its own way. You still think of Bakugo sometimes, but not with the same desperation. It’s more of a quiet recognition of what once was.

On the last day, just as you’re packing up to head home, you find yourself alone outside, staring at the horizon, the sunlight filtering through the trees. There’s a soft breeze that cools your skin, and for the first time in months, you allow yourself to feel a bit of peace. You breathe in deeply, letting go of the tension that’s built up in your shoulders.

“You okay?” Talia’s voice breaks the silence, and you turn to find her standing there, leaning against the porch rail.

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. I think I am.” She grins. “Good. You deserve that, you know? To feel… okay.”

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve been able to say that, and the fact that she’s right makes you feel something you haven’t in a while

Bakugo stands in the crowd, a frown etched on his face as he tries to power through yet another community event. He’s here because he has to be. This is part of the hero work—the appearances, the press, the smiles for the public. But none of it feels real. His mind keeps drifting back to that day, three months ago, when he’d decided to sever ties with you, with the very thing that had helped him feel whole again. If you were here maybe he wouldn’t feel nearly as uneasy.

“Dynamight!” He blinks and turns. there she is. Emma. The small Deaf girl he’d encountered months ago.

She’s bouncing up and down with excitement as he strides over to her, hands up to sign with her. Something he said he would do but never stopped doing. Because even though he’d told himself he was done, part of him knows it’s a lie. Not completely. Not for Emma.

For her. He tells himself, pushing the thought away. Deaf kids should get to talk to their favorite hero too.

“Hey, kid” he greets her with a rare, softened tone. He crouches slightly, offering her a small smile as she holds something up excitedly.

“I wanted to show you something!” Emma exclaims, her hands moving rapidly in excitement. She opens a small notebook in her hands and flips it to the first page.

On it is a crayon drawing of the two of them, him dressed in his hero suit and her dressed in her own, future hero suit

“It’s us together as heroes!” She beams. “Yeah…” he murmurs, his hand hovering above the drawing but not quite touching it. There’s an unexpected warmth in his chest. “It’s… great, Emma.”

“This is you,” she signs, pointing to the crayon version of him in his hero costume, “and this is me, when I grow up! I’m gonna be just like you!” Her hands move quickly, her enthusiasm clear, but Bakugo can see the spark in her eyes—a trust, an admiration, something that feels different than what he’s used to.

For a moment, Bakugo doesn’t know how to respond. He hasn’t been sure of himself in so long, especially in moments like this—when people, when kids, look at him like he’s a hero they want to emulate. He stands, not quite sure how to bridge the silence that lingers.

“You’re gonna be a great hero,” he says, the words feeling like something he’s wanted to say to someone for a while, but could never quite get out. “You’re strong.”

She beams again, her smile lighting up her face. “Really? You think so?” She signs the question with wide eyes.

“I know so,” Bakugo replies, and this time, it feels like he’s speaking the truth. His gaze softens as he looks down at the drawing again, and for a second, he can almost see it—the future she imagines, the one where they both stand side by side. The idea lingers in his chest, but then Emma pulls him from his thoughts again.

“You’re a good kid,” he tells her, then signs, “Be careful. Heroes gotta be smart.”

She nods vigorously, her small face serious, but only for a moment before she’s grinning again. “I will! I promise!”

Then for a second, her brows lift with her widening eyes, she reaches up to lightly brush her small fingers at his ears.

ME, YOU, SAME?

His breath hitches and he releases a shaky breath, looking down at this little girl, so innocent and full of hope.

YES

And in that moment, something shifts inside him. Something he’d tried to bury, something you had stirred, but he’d resisted. For the first time in a while, Bakugo doesn’t feel like he’s convincing himself of something. He’s simply… doing. Simply being.

Maybe he doesn’t have all the answers, but for Emma, for the hope she carries, he’ll show up. He’ll be the hero she sees in him.

Later that night, alone in his apartment, Bakugo stands in front of the mirror, his hands hanging at his sides. His mind runs back to Emma’s simple words, her unguarded, honest look at him.

Maybe it’s time to stop pretending.

Maybe it’s time to stop hiding.

He’s been living in the shadows of his own self-doubt, letting fear drive him to keep his identity a secret, to avoid confronting the truth of who he really is. But Emma… she’s not afraid. And if she can embrace who she is, maybe he can too.

The decision comes suddenly, but he knows it’s right. He reaches for his phone, fingers trembling slightly as he types out a message he’s been avoiding for months.

It’s time to tell the world.

you wake up on your day off to the buzz of your phone going off relentlessly. You groggily reach over, blinking the sleep from your eyes, to see an array of notifications lighting up your screen. The headline of every major news source, from social media to the morning news, reads something like:

“Dynamight Comes Out as Deaf: A Hero’s Journey to Self-Acceptance.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. You stare at the words, barely able to process them. He—Bakugo—has finally done it. The world now knows. You scroll through the articles in a daze, seeing snippets of his speech at a press conference. Your eyes narrow as your heart aches. The weight of the moment is suffocating, but you can’t look away.

The conference has already aired live, but you pull it up on your tv and your eyes widen as Bakugo steps up to the podium. His usual arrogance and gruffness are there, of course, but there’s a noticeable change in his posture. A shift. The man who once shielded himself behind his bluster is standing there, claiming something that you knew all along. His truth.

His voice is as brash as ever, but there’s a vulnerability to it that you’ve never heard before.

“I know you all love to make a spectacle out of things,” Bakugo growls into the mic, his usual arrogance never wavering. “But let me make one thing clear: I was always Deaf.” He pauses, a brief, almost imperceptible shift in his eyes.

You hold your breath, waiting for him to go on. Then, he says it. He finally does.

“And, uh,” he starts again, his tone softening just a little. “There was someone who helped me get to this point. They taught me a lot. Gave me the space to be me. They didn’t coddle me, didn’t make me feel weak—just helped me find my strength. You know who you are.”

Your chest tightens as your mind races. You can hear the unspoken words. The gratitude he hasn’t voiced directly to you, but you know it’s for you. You can see it in his eyes, even through the stubbornness he wears like armor.

The rest of the press conference carries on with Bakugo making his usual gruff remarks about being the same hero, just with a little more transparency. “I’m not any less of a hero. I’m the same as I was yesterday. Only now, maybe you all can stop treating me like some damn novelty. I’m a person, this is who I’ve always been”

But in between his words, you can feel something—a small shift in the way he’s holding himself. Maybe he’s not just talking about his Deafness anymore. Maybe he’s talking about everything. About being seen for who he truly is. You’re not sure if he’ll ever admit it, but the way his words hit, the way he doesn’t shield the vulnerability behind his usual tough exterior—it feels like progress.

And though his words are blunt, as expected, there’s something softer there, something you thought you might never see.

Bakugo clears his throat, voice slightly rougher now, but the words are still sharp.

“There’s been a lot of talk lately, a lot of assumptions about who I am and what I’ve done. And yeah, I’ve made mistakes. I pushed people away. People who were trying to help, who saw something in me that I couldn’t see for myself. And… I regret that. Maybe more than anything.”

His gaze falters for just a moment, a fleeting vulnerability before he steels himself again.

“I’ll finally admit it, I’m not perfect. Hell, I don’t know if I’ll ever be perfect. But I’ve learned. I’ve learned that the people who matter—the ones who care about you—they don’t just disappear. You make the mistake of thinking you can push them away and that they’ll just stay gone, but deep down… you hope they’ll come back.”

He pauses, a flicker of something deeper crossing his face, before he looks out at the crowd again, the familiar fire returning to his words.

“I’m the same hero I was before, but I’m not the same person. And I hope that someone out there can see that.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest as you try to process it all. You know what this means for him. You know how hard this must have been to say, and asu much as you want to hate him, you can’t help but feel proud of him, you can’t help the way your heart leaps in your chest

Talia starts blowing up your phone, repeatedly asking if you’re ok but there’s one message staring back at you, from Bakugo

“I’m sorry”

Your hands tremble as you stare at your phone, the words glaring back at you like a challenge, like a wound you thought had finally started to heal.

“I’m sorry.”

Two simple words, but they’re heavier than you can handle. You don’t even know why he’d send it. What’s he sorry for? Pushing you out of his life? Acting like you never mattered? Or is this just another layer to his guilt, something he’s doing for himself and not for you?

Your phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up with a string of messages from Talia.

Talia: “Hey, are you watching this? Are you okay?”

Talia: “Please tell me you’re not ignoring this. You need to see it.”

Talia: “HELLO? BITCH, ANSWER ME!”

But you can’t bring yourself to type a response. Your thumb hovers over the screen, frozen, before your gaze drops back to his message.

“I’m sorry.”

A laugh escapes you, bitter and hollow, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. Sorry doesn’t fix the nights you cried yourself to sleep. It doesn’t fix the emptiness he left behind. It doesn’t make up for the way he made you feel so small, so disposable.

The TV is still on, now muted, but you glance at the screen, the image of Bakugo standing at a podium plastered across every news station. His face is unreadable—hard, almost—but there’s something in his eyes, something you know too well.

Regret.

You pick up the remote, unmuting the TV just in time to catch the end of his speech.

“…And yeah, I’ve made mistakes. I’ve hurt people. People I wish I hadn’t. But I’m not here to dwell on the past. I’m here because it’s time I stopped pretending to be someone I’m not. This is who I am. I’m still Dynamight. I’m still the same damn hero I’ve always been. I was always Deaf—you idiots just never noticed.”

He steps back from the podium, and the reporters erupt with questions. He doesn’t answer any of them, simply turning and walking offstage with his usual sharp determination.

Your phone buzzes again, snapping you out of the daze.

Talia: “Please tell me you’re okay. Do you want me to come over?”

But you can’t think, can’t process, can’t breathe past the knot in your chest. The words on your phone screen blur as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s the last thing you wanted to hear from him, but maybe it’s also the one thing you needed.

You sit there for what feels like forever, the world moving around you while you stay frozen. His voice from the conference echoes in your mind,

Sorry for what? For firing you? For shutting you out? For breaking your heart? Your chest feels tight, and you take a shaky breath. You tell yourself not to overthink it, not to let him back into your head, but it’s impossible. That press conference wasn’t just an apology to the world; it felt like an apology to you.

Your phone buzzes again, and this time you force yourself to look

Talia: “Okay, I’m coming over if you don’t answer me in the next five minutes. I’m not kidding.” You type back quickly, fingers shaking.

You: “I’m fine. Don’t come over.”

Her reply is instant.

Talia: “You’re lying. Be there in 10.”

You groan, tossing your phone onto the coffee table. You’re not ready to talk about it yet, not even with her, but you know she won’t let you avoid it.

The knock on your door comes exactly ten minutes later. You don’t even bother pretending you’re not home. You open the door to find Talia standing there, arms crossed and a bag of snacks in her hand.

“I knew you were lying,” she says, pushing past you into the apartment. She drops the bag on the counter and turns to face you, her eyes scanning your face. “You’ve been crying.”

“No I haven’t, I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth, brushing past her to sink down on the couch. You know she’d know if you’re lying but you do it anyway. Who are you really lying to? Her or yourself?

“Seriously? You just watched your ex-boss—and let’s be real, the guy who broke your heart—go public about being Deaf and basically admit he screwed up with you. You’re fine?” She sits next to you, pulling her legs up onto the couch. “Talk to me, y/n. You know I’m here”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Did you see the part where he said he hopes someone comes back? Because if you didn’t, I’m pulling it up right now.”

Your stomach twists. “I saw it.” “And?”

“And nothing,” you snap, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “What do you want me to say, Talia? That I forgive him? That I’m ready to go running back to him? Because I’m not. He doesn’t fucking deserve that. I want to say that, because I’m not, but there’s still a part of my heart that’s aching right now.”

Her expression softens. “I don’t want you to say anything you’re not ready to say. But I think you need to figure out what you do want, because from where I’m sitting, it seems like he’s trying to make things right.”

“Are you seriously defending him right now? Like he can just say “I’m sorry” and that’s it? And I’ll come running back? Do you think I’m that pathetic?” you spit back

“Hey!” She snaps, with a tone you’ve never heard her use. “Do not put words in my mouth, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to like that right now, but let me remind you—I’ve been here with you for months. I’ve held you while you cried over that asshole. Of course I’m not on his fucking side. I’m just stating the facts.”

Her words hit you like a slap, the room falling silent as her glare softens ever so slightly. She crosses her arms, her brows furrowing in that way that shows she’s more hurt than angry. “Don’t take your anger at him out on me.”

You bury your face in your hands, her words sinking in. You don’t know what you want. Part of you wants to scream at him, to tell him he doesn’t get to just say he’s sorry and expect everything to go back to normal. But another part of you… another part of you misses him so much it physically hurts.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You’re right.” You lift your head, meeting Talia’s gaze with a mixture of guilt and gratitude. Reaching out, you grip her hand tightly, as if grounding yourself in her presence. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, the apology carrying the weight of your frustration and pain.

“I don’t know, Talia,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Then don’t decide right now. Just… sit with it. And maybe, when you’re ready, you’ll know what to do.”

You lean into her, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. But as you sit there, one thought keeps replaying in your mind.

He hopes they’ll come back.

And for the first time in three months, you wonder if you might.

The next few days are a blur and as much as you want to ignore the situation bakugo’s face is still plastered on every news outlet, every social media platform, he’s even in conversations you overhear. He’s haunting you. Everyone’s talking about him—about his “coming out” as Deaf, about his gruff yet surprisingly heartfelt press conference, about how he’s still the same Dynamight.

And, of course, there are people who don’t feel the same, suddenly questioning his capabilities—despite thinking he was more than capable just a month ago when they had no idea he was Deaf. It makes you understand, at least in part, why he kept it a secret for so long. Ignorance is frustrating, and it’s easy to imagine how much he worried about his rankings taking a hit. Though, ironically, you suspect his popularity is about to skyrocket. You’re caught in the middle of it, carrying a secret that no one else knows.

He’s apologized to you. Privately. While the world cheers him on for his public bravery, you’re left staring at that two-word message on your phone every night, as if it’s some kind of puzzle you’re supposed to solve.

Talia’s been supportive, always checking in and trying to distract you, but she doesn’t push. You’ve thrown yourself into work at Red Riot’s agency, hoping that the busy schedule will drown out the thoughts of Bakugo that seem to creep in every time you let your guard down.

But it doesn’t work.

On your lunch break one afternoon, you find yourself scrolling through videos of the press conference again. You’ve watched it so many times that you practically have it memorized. The way he stood there, shoulders tense but head held high. The way his hands moved as he simultaneously signed, bold and unapologetic.

The way he said he made mistakes.

The way he said he hopes “they” come back.

Your chest tightens as you pause on the frame where he glances at the camera, his eyes full of something raw and unguarded. Regret? Hope? You don’t know, but it’s enough to stir something in you.

You don’t know why you do it, but your fingers move to open the message thread with him. His “I’m sorry” stares back at you like it’s mocking you.

You start typing a reply. Then delete it. Then type again.

Finally, you send something simple. Something neutral.

You: “I saw the press conference.”

The three little dots are almost immediate and your practically chuck your phone across the room when you see them.

Bakugo: “I figured.”

You stare at his response, waiting for him to say more, but nothing comes. Your fingers hover over the keyboard. What are you supposed to say to that?

You: “It was brave of you to do that.”

You say the truth, because as much as you’re torn in a battle of wanting to run back to him, to tell him how you felt and how you felt or punch him square in the jaw. You still are proud. You know what that took for him.

Bakugo: “It was overdue.”

He’s right. It was overdue. But the fact that he’s admitting it so openly feels… different. The Bakugo you knew never admitted he was wrong, never apologized, never showed vulnerability.

You don’t know what to say next, so you leave the conversation there. But for the rest of the day, you can’t stop thinking about him. About what it would mean to go back. About whether you even could.

That night, as you’re lying in bed, your phone buzzes again.

Bakugo: “I meant what I said. I’m sorry. For everything.”

You stare at the message, your heart pounding. You know he’s not just apologizing for firing you. He’s apologizing for shutting you out, for breaking you, for making you feel like you didn’t matter.

You don’t reply. Not yet.

Instead, you set your phone down, staring blankly at the wall as the weight of everything crashes over you. The apology sits in your chest, heavy and unresolved. It’s not enough, not after months of silence, but it’s also everything you’ve been longing to hear. You let it linger in your mind for the rest of the next day, mindlessly going about your routine until you lie awake in bed the following night

The city hums faintly outside your window, but your thoughts are louder. You think of Bakugo—of his press conference, of his apology, of everything you’ve been through.

And finally, as the clock ticks past midnight, you pick up your phone.

Your fingers hover over the screen, hesitating. You could ignore him. You could let him feel the same silence he left you with. But a small, stubborn part of you wants answers. Wants closure. Wants him.

Taking a deep breath, you type out a response, your hands trembling slightly.

You: “I don’t know if sorry is enough. But if you want to talk, really talk, you know where to find me.”

You stare at the message for what feels like an eternity before hitting send. The moment it delivers, you toss your phone onto the nightstand and bury your face in your pillow.

Now, all you can do is wait.

The days after the message are unbearable. He doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know if you even want him to, and he’s terrified of screwing things up more. Every time he picks up his phone to reply, he freezes, his mind racing with things he wants to say but can’t bring himself to. He leaves the conversation on read, knowing it’s making things worse but unable to stop himself.

Then there’s the interview. His PR team insists on it, saying it’ll help smooth over the public’s reaction to his “big reveal.” He doesn’t care about the opinions of people who didn’t matter a month ago, but he knows he can’t avoid it forever.

During the interview, the topic shifts to his Deafness and how it’s impacted his relationships—both professional and personal. He hesitates, his jaw tightening, but then, without meaning to, he brings you up.

“There was… someone who taught me a lot,” he admits gruffly, his hand clenching into a fist on his knee. “I pushed them away. I was a fuckin’ idiot. They deserved better.”

It’s the most anyone’s ever heard him talk about feelings, and when the clip circulates online later that day, everyone’s talking about it, people are guessing it’s you.

You don’t see the interview live, but Talia sends you a link with like ten exclamation points in the message. Reluctantly, you open it, and there he is on your screen—Bakugo, looking uncomfortable but honest. Hearing him admit he was an idiot feels… surreal. He’s not one for public displays, so for him to acknowledge you in an interview like this? It’s huge.

But still, it’s not enough. A few days pass. The tension lingers. And then, late one night, your phone buzzes. A voicemail. When you check it, your heart stops at the sound of his voice.

“Shit…” His words are slurred, and you can hear the clink of a bottle in the background. “I… I don’t even fuckin’ drink, but I needed… I don’t know, somethin’ to stop me from thinkin’ about you. But it didn’t work, and now I’m here, drunk as hell, leaving this dumbass voicemail because… because I’m a goddamn coward, and I can’t stop fuckin’ missing you.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, and it’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever heard him.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time. “I’m sorry for everything. For bein’ an idiot, for not tellin’ you what you fuckin’ mean to me before I ruined it all.” There’s a long pause, and you can hear him breathing unevenly. “I don’t deserve you. I know that. But… I can’t stop hopin’ you’ll come back anyway.”

The voicemail ends, and you’re left staring at your phone, your heart pounding. The familiar sting of hurt and anger still sharp, but something deeper lingers: an aching sense of loss. The person who had once made you feel seen, understood, is now the one who’s broken that bond beyond recognition.

You want to ignore him. You want to erase him from your life completely, but you know you can’t and deep deep down you know you want him in your life again.

The next afternoon you’d been needed at red riots agency agency, the familiar chime of your phone breaks the stillness. It’s a message from the front desk, telling you a delivery has arrived for you.

You stand up, confused but curious, as you walk to the lobby. The package is large, wrapped in simple brown paper, with a handwritten note affixed to the top in elegant script. You turn the note over, your eyes scanning the words.

“I’m not good with this shit. I don’t expect this to fix everything, and I know I don’t deserve it, but I can’t keep pretending. I fucked up, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry. You mean more to me than I’ve ever been able to say.”

The signature at the bottom, written with shaky confidence, is unmistakable.

Bakugo.

Your heart skips. But it’s not the excitement you once felt when you’d get a text from him. It’s something else, something heavier. The flowers, fresh and vibrant, are beautiful—a sharp contrast to the flowers the guy from the bar had sent you. It’s clear this wasn’t a rushed thought or just a generic gesture. Bakugo took the time to choose something meaningful, something you’d actually like. It’s a reminder of who he can be when he tries, of the man who’s not only a hero but someone who truly knows you.

You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over your phone screen for a moment before you type out a simple but sincere message:

You “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. And the note… I appreciate it.”

You hit send, your stomach twisting in anticipation. The dots appear almost immediately, and then his reply comes through.

Bakugo: “I meant what I said. I’ve been running from this for too long, like a fucking coward and I’m sorry for that. I’m ready to talk. I should’ve done it sooner, but I’m asking now. Can we meet?”

Your heart races. The words hit you harder than you expected, like a punch to the gut, but it’s also the closest thing to an apology you’ve gotten. You close your eyes for a second, letting the feeling settle before you type out your response.

You “We can meet. But I need you to understand, I’m not going to make this easy for you. It’s not just going to go back to how it was. I have to think about this too.”

You hesitate before hitting send, but then, your finger presses the button. The message is out there now.

A few seconds pass, and then his reply comes through.

Bakugo: “I get it. I’m not asking for it to go back to how it was. I just need to talk.”

You meet him late afternoon in a dimly lit cafe, he’d requested the private back room for the two of you. You see him his back straight, posture tense, but there’s a softness in his eyes that you didn’t expect. The sight of him makes your chest tighten, and for a split second, all the hurt floods back, threatening to break through. But you swallow it down, pushing the emotions back where they belong, at least for now.

Your usual coffee order was sitting in front of the chair when you arrived, he’d remembered.

When he sees you, his jaw clenches, and he stands up. His gaze is apologetic, but guarded. He says nothing as you sit down across from him. There’s an unspoken distance between you, both of you unsure of how to start.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Awkward. You glance at him, not knowing whether to wait for him to speak first or if you should just get it over with. It’s him who breaks the silence first.

“I… I don’t know how to start this,” he admits, his voice low and rough.

You give him a pointed look, your arms crossed, but you don’t say anything. You want him to go first.

“Look, I know I fucked up,” Bakugo continues, his words rushed, his voice catching slightly as he forces them out. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back.” His eyes shift down for a moment, but when they return to you, there’s something raw there, something he’s been holding back for too long. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was scared. I thought… I thought if I shut myself off, I wouldn’t drag you down with me. But I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

His hands are clenched into fists on the table, like he’s trying to hold himself together, but the vulnerability is leaking through.

“I was an idiot, and I know it,” he continues,

“I don’t know how to fix this,” his hands gripping the table tightly. “I don’t know how to make it right. But I… I’m willing to try. I’m ready to try.”

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond, but his eyes are so desperate now. Not just for your forgiveness, but for something else. Something deeper.

“I don’t know if I can just forgive you, Bakugo,” you say softly, but firmly. “You hurt me. You made me feel like I didn’t matter. And it’s not something that just goes away with a couple of words.”

He flinches, the sting of your words landing harder than he expected, but he nods slowly. “I get it,” he mutters. “I don’t expect you to just forget. I don’t deserve that. But I… I’ve spent the last few months regretting the way I treated you. I’ve been a fucking mess.”

The silence stretches out, thick and uncomfortable, before he adds, almost like an afterthought, “I’m not saying this because I think it’ll fix anything… But I care about you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know if I’m ready to say all the words… but you should know, I—” His voice hitches, and he grits his teeth, frustration flashing across his face. “I fucking need you. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, pushing you away. I can’t keep running from it.”

There it is. He’s not saying it outright, not yet, but it’s clear. It’s written in the tension in his voice, in the way he’s looking at you. He needs you. But that’s as far as he can admit right now. He’s too scared to say the words, but it’s all there in the way he’s speaking.

You exhale, looking down at your hands. The silence stretches between you like a heavy weight, but it’s different this time. It’s not suffocating, just… thick with everything unsaid. You want to push him further, but you’re not sure how much more he can take.

“Did you know?” you ask, voice trembling a little, though you try to keep it steady. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing in confusion. “What?”

“Did you know about my feelings for you?” you push, meeting his gaze, watching his expression shift as if something inside him clicks.

He hesitates, then lets out a frustrated breath, looking away for a moment. “I had a feeling,” he admits, voice low, almost reluctant. “But I told myself I was wrong. I let my own doubts cloud my mind… I was trying to convince myself it didn’t mean anything.”

You swallow, the words hitting deeper than you expected. “Why? Why didn’t you say anything? You just pushed me away, Bakugo.”

He stares at you, his expression torn, jaw clenched tightly. “I didn’t want to feel weak,” he says, barely above a whisper. “And I sure as hell didn’t want you to have power over me.” You furrow your brows. “What do you mean by that?”

He lets out a breath before continuing. “I don’t… like feeling like I’m not in control,” he admits, voice rough. “Everything about me has to be under my control. My strength, my image—everything. And then you… you came into my life, and everything just got… confusing. You made me think about everything differently and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

You remain silent, taking in his words. The rawness in his admission shakes you, but there’s still a part of you that wants him to go further, to say the things you need to hear. But he’s still holding back.

“You make me weak, you know?” he finally adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, giving a small awkward laugh with the shake of his head. “And I hate it.”

The vulnerability in his voice hits you harder than you expect. It’s the same Bakugo, the one who once seemed invincible, but now, you see the cracks beneath it.

For a moment, you let the silence linger between you, trying to digest everything. “But you were never weak,” you say quietly, your voice softer now. “You just… didn’t want to let anyone in.”

His gaze softens, but he doesn’t say anything. The weight of the moment settles in, and you know that you’re both standing on the precipice of something—neither of you fully ready, but maybe, just maybe, willing to step forward.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. “I’m not saying yes, Bakugo. I can’t just forget everything and run back into your arms.” You hold his gaze, steady. “But… I’m not saying no either.” You smile slightly, your hand reaching for his.

Bakugo grabs your hand. His grip is firm, but it’s not forceful—just a silent plea for you to understand. A glimmer of relief flashes in his eyes, though there’s still a heavy weight of uncertainty. He exhales sharply, relief mixed with a heavy dose of uncertainty in his eyes. “I get it. I’ll wait. However long it takes.”

The words hang between you, heavy but hopeful. There’s a long road ahead, and neither of you knows what’s at the end of it. But there’s a crack in the door now, a glimmer of possibility that you can’t ignore.

For the first time, Bakugo isn’t just pushing forward on instinct. He’s waiting for you. And for the first time, you’re not running away from him either.

And just like that, the lunches start again.

The first lunch is simple, a quiet little café tucked away in a corner of the city, far enough from prying eyes but close enough for comfort. Neither of you wants to make a big deal of it. No cameras, no expectations. Just two people sitting down, eating a meal, and talking like they used to.

Bakugo fidgets with his napkin, clearly not used to this kind of calm, but he’s trying. There’s a sense of hesitation between you, like neither of you wants to be the first to break the quiet. But then, unexpectedly, he asks you about your new job. The question is casual enough, but you both know it’s more than just small talk.

You smile, feeling the weight of his words in a way that feels like a first step, and you respond with a little more than you normally would. And for the first time in months, you both get lost in the conversation—just two people sharing a meal, no pretenses.

The next lunch is a bit easier. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where silence feels heavy, but the air between you has softened. Slowly, but surely, you’re both learning how to be around each other again without the need for words to fill every moment.

Another month passes, slow but steady. Every lunch feels like another brick being removed from the wall between you and Bakugo, but there’s still something unspoken between you. He’s still Bakugo—gruff, proud, and a little closed off when it comes to talking about what he feels.

But in his own way, he’s been complimenting you more than he ever has before. He praises your work, your passion, the way you handle yourself when you talk about your dreams. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat each time.

Then, one evening, you invite him over to your place for dinner. He doesn’t know what to expect, and honestly neither do you, but he agrees. The silence between you isn’t heavy this time—it’s comfortable. You’re both so used to the quiet now, to the small moments that don’t need to be filled with words.

You made one of his recipes—the one he’d hastily shoved into your arms with the muttered excuse of “making too much” all those weeks ago. You’re eating casually, and he’s telling you a story from his latest mission, grumbling about his hero friend Chargebolt and his antics. You can’t stifle your laughter

You’re laughing so hard your sides hurt, gasping to catch your breath but when you look back up his eyes are on yours, watching you and his hands move again

BEAUTIFUL.

You feel your face flush and you try to hold back the smile that wants to plaster itself on your face, but you know he sees it. You quickly change the subject. “I need to meet him one day. Chargebolt”

After dinner he helps you wash dishes and it’s all.. oddly domestic in a way that gives you butterflies, and you have no idea how he feels, only the way sparks ignite when your fingertips brush as you hand him dishes to dry. The tension is thick, and you can’t take it anymore. Before you know it, you flick the water from your hands onto him. He shoots daggers at you with his gaze, but then, unexpectedly, he smiles. you’re laughing and you do it again but he grabs your hands

And.. you stand there, frozen for a minute with his hands holding yours, his crimson gaze meeting yours and it’s softer now, nothing like the harsh intensity you saw back in the conference room all that time ago.

His hands and eyes fall from your and you can almost see the gears turning in his head, he goes to open his mouth but hesitates, shaking his head and raising his hands instead

He brings his two closed hands together, fingertips touching and bouncing off each other lightly.

KISS.

Can I kiss you?

Your eyes immediately shoot to his and you nod and that’s it. The tension that’s been building over the past month snaps. You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you’re in each other’s arms. His lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s both desperate and tender, all the words neither of you has been able to say spilling out in that single moment.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands trembling slightly as he cups your face. “Please… I can’t keep pretending I don’t need you,” he admits, his voice raw, the weight of everything he’s been holding back finally pouring out.

Bakugo’s hands hover near your sides, as if unsure whether to pull you closer or give you space, like he’s waiting for you to tell him what comes next. You both stand there for a moment, the silence enveloping you again, but this time it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels like the calm after a storm, like the tension has dissipated, but there’s still more to work through.

You smile softly, reaching for his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, squeezing his fingers gently.

He nods, like he’s trying to process the weight of that assurance. “Good,” he mutters, and for once, the sharpness in his tone is gone, replaced by something softer. Something a little uncertain, but real.

Without thinking, you pull him down to sit with you on the couch, your bodies close but not quite touching. You both need time. Time to catch up with each other, time to figure out how to navigate this new phase of whatever this is between you two.

“So… what now?” you ask, voice small, but hopeful.

He leans back into the cushions, staring at the ceiling for a moment as if he’s thinking. When he finally speaks, his voice is gruff again, but there’s a flicker of something else there. “Now, we take it slow,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “I’m not asking for a lot. I don’t know how to do all the shit I should’ve said before, but I’m here now. For real. And I’m not running away from this.”

It’s the most honest thing he’s said in weeks, maybe months, and it means everything to you. It’s not perfect, and it’s not a fairytale, but you can see the cracks in his armor, the rawness that’s finally coming through. He’s not pretending anymore, and that’s the first step.

You nod, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m not asking for perfect either. Just… just us, okay?” “Yeah,” he replies, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place. “Just us.”

And with that, it feels like the tension between you has finally broken. You’re not all the way there yet, and you know it’ll take time. But for the first time in a long while, you feel like there’s hope. Not a perfect solution, but something real, something worth fighting for.

As you sit there, quietly, his arm wraps around you, pulling you closer. Neither of you speaks for a while, just feeling the comfort of each other’s presence. There’s still a long road ahead, but for now, you’re okay. And that’s all you need.

You’re both in this together.

You move closer, and he instinctively moves to hold you in his arms. Everything feels right, and you relax into him, letting his presence comfort you until your soft breaths even out, and you drift to sleep.

He glances down at your sleeping figure, careful not to wake you as he shifts slightly. He takes a picture, knowing you’ll probably kill him for it later, but he can’t resist. With a soft smile, he posts it on his Instagram story.

“🤟@ y/nsigns”

I LOVE YOU.

—-

A/n: its my birthdayyy!! This is my present to yall tho

bakugo saying ily first?? Idk if the ily is too soon but at the same time they’ve known they each had feelings the whole time idc lmao. I really hope yall enjoyed the series! This is the first thing I wrote on tumblr!! I’m so appreciative of all the nice comments and everything love u guys <3

Tags: @poemeater @mimzyu @beebunsx x @v3n7s

@cielito--lindo @starrmage @unabletonotlovesatoru @beabamboo

[rikiislvr]

unavailable . 4 - nishimura riki

pairing: afab!reader x nishimura riki

summary: fresh out a relationship with a heavy heart, niki seeks comfort in his best friend, not knowing you were falling for him

warnings: cussing

ps. read part 1-3 (on my page) if you’d like :)

after he left, you decided to leave too. you couldn’t go home since you were ditching, so you decided to stop by a nearby convenience store to get snacks.

before you could even step a foot inside the store, you were stopped at the sight of niki and ivy, standing in front of each other on the sidewalk, talking but you were too far away to hear what it was about.

you hid behind the side of the store, watching from pure curiosity, but.. whatever they were talking about, led to niki leaning down and pressing a kiss on her forehead, ivy smiled up at him and giggled before grabbing his hand as they ran down the street together.

you weren’t sure why your heart began to ache. maybe it was a good.. reasoning on why they’re.. happy together again?

you brush it off and slowly walked into the store to grab something to snack on until you can go home. but you couldn’t stop wondering.. what was that about? and was he gonna tell you?

-

the next day you walk into school, you don’t see niki in his usual spot, beside your locker waiting for you, you sigh and open your locker, being jolted from tickling hands on your sides,

you turn around to be faced with niki, “did i scare you?” he teases, you didn’t reply and turned back to your locker, “uh yeah..” you nod slowly, he tilt his head “you okay?” he asks, you close your locker and sigh,

“mhm!” you shot a fake smile before walking away, niki followed you, “you’re acting odd, what’s wrong?” he grabbed your shoulder making you stop, you look up at him and sigh,

“you’re back with ivy?” you say, his face dropped softly, “right um… yeah- i am.” he ran his fingers through his hair, you just blinked up at him, needing more of an answer.

“she’s in a really bad place and, i just feel really bad, she needs someone to rely on, you know?” he explained, you didn’t really understand it, but as his best friend, you have to be supportive…

“okay..” you shrug it off, “you understand right?” he says, you just nod before walking to your class, niki watched you and sighed, rubbing his neck.

he knew it was the bad decision getting back with ivy, but when he found her crying yesterday after he left the park over some of her family issues, he couldn’t deny the fact he still had care for her, he just didn’t want you to think he was overlooking how much you’ve helped him.

because you did help him a lot the night she broke up with him, but he couldn’t lie he wanted to be with her again, so he didn’t take up the opportunity.

he just hoped you’d understand somehow..

-

you’ve had the craziest headache all day in class, you finally got the last bell of the day and left the classroom immediately, all the work + the thoughts of niki being back with ivy was taking over your head.

why did you even care so much? it wasn’t your relationship or your business so who cares? why was this taking such a big toll on you?

you sigh and walked out the school with your head down,

“y/n!” you heard someone call you from behind, you turn around, seeing ivy, who was holding hands with niki, she smiled and motioned for you to come over..

what did she possibly want from you?

you groan and walked over, putting on a fake smile, “me and niki are gonna go get sushi, wanna come with?” she smiled at you, you turn to niki, who was looking at you, you could sense the guilt in his expression, “sure.” you shrug,

ivy giggled and grabbed your arm with her free hand as she pulled you guys to walk to the nearby sushi restaurant.

as you three walked, ivy rambled about her day, you look up past her to see niki, who was smiling at every word ivy said,

you felt very uncomfortable.. gosh, why did you even say yes? you just felt like a third wheel right now. why would ivy invite you in the first place?

you get to the restaurant and walked in, you guys sat in a booth, niki next to ivy, and you across from them, you tap the table awkwardly and looked out the window, ivy must’ve noticed your awkwardness and tapped your arm,

“so, where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, you clear your throat. “i don’t have one.” you nod, she gasps, “oh that’s a bummer! you’re pretty.” she shrugged, “thanks.” you nod, for some reason this was throwing you off…

you turn to look at niki, who looked just as awkward as you did, you sigh, “you know, i can get you a boyfriend.” ivy smiled, you tilt your head,

“yeah! my friend jake, he’s single, you two would be a power couple.” she giggled, “i don’t think i-

“oh come on! you can’t hangout with my boyfriend all the time, i know you two are best friends but like..” she smirked and grabbed onto niki’s arm, niki looked at you before looking down.

you then realized what this was, ivy only invited you to tell you to back off of him.

fuck this.

“yeah i’m gonna head home, thanks for inviting me.” you stood up and quickly left, niki so badly wanted to chase after you, but due to him being in the inside of the seat, he was trapped,

ivy scoffed, “she’s weird.” she shrugged and began eating the sushi, niki sighed.

you walked home with your head down, she was right. you can’t hangout with niki all the time anymore. he’s your best friend but you can’t deny you’ve been catching feelings for him.

and it’s wrong. he’s not available for you. only thing you can do now was to avoid him at all costs, if you’re not with him, you can’t gain feelings…

right?

a/n: didn’t expect for so many people to want me to continue this but hey! should i end it here or continueee orrr, lmk!

taglist : @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay @chaevibes @jiyeons-closet @rii7eis7

[rockstarhaechan]

choi jiung keeps sending you voicemails every now and then idol!choi jiung x non!idol fem reader warnings i don’t think there are any genre voicemails i saw @kisseobie say they barely see jiung posts so here i am reporting for duty

“you’re probably at work or asleep since i lost track of the time difference , but man i miss you… getting my makeup done right now, hold on… i need to sneeze..- oh bless me”

“i hate being far away from you, especially over seas but we have our jingle bell performance tonight, i wish you’d be here to see me i miss your pretty face in the crowd, i gotta hang up, i love you and text me when you hear this”

“hey my love, it’s me again. i know i was at your place earlier but i just wanted to let you know that i left you some money on the counter in the kitchen, had to leave for practice and couldn’t get you anything for breakfast, i’m sorry”

“make sure to eat something and drink enough water, we are having dinner all together later and the boys asked me to bring you as well, so i’ll pick you up at six, see you later and i love you, text me if you need anything”

“we won… we won first place at the music showcase. right when we got backstage you were the first person i could think about so i had to call you, even though you’re at work right now. i can’t believe we made it.. after all those years we finally did it..”

“keeho distracted me, i forgot i’m still on the phone.. i-it’s unbelievable i can’t even explain how i feel right now but wow. get ready for a lot of crying later, i love you”

“i can see you from up here, it’s cute seeing you interact with other p1ece, no no don’t look up, stop. yes that’s better, keep talking to them, i’m just gonna watch you from here, you will laugh your ass off when you hear this one”

“actually, do you laugh when you hear most of my voicemails? should i switch to texts instead? jongseob told me that you sometimes wiggle your brows when you listen to my voicemails, you find me that attractive? okay i better stop, ill see you inside”

“come get your boyfriend, he is annoying- taeyang give me my phone back, who are you talking to? oh god you’re done for”

“what did taeyang say? he didn’t say anything bad did he? i’m sorry if he did, i should really send voice messages instead so i can hear what i said or someone specific said. if looks could kill, taeyang would be dead right now. i love you, i’ll pick you up from work later”

“i’m in the mall right now, and i found this super cute tshirt i already bought it for you.. yah, don’t come for me when you see the t-shirt cause it’s so cute, it’s custom made. ‘i love my boyfriend choi jiung’ with a picture of my face”

“i thought you’d perfectly blend in with p1ece at some concerts if you wear that, they wouldn’t suspect a single thing, this has me giggling, okay more like laughing. let me send you a picture of it, okay done”

“i’m such an idiot sometimes, i’ve just send this long voicemail to keeho, took me like 7 minutes to realise that i was speaking on his voicemail instead of yours.. so i’m keeping this one short.”

“i’m on my way to your apartment, i’m gonna pick you up and we can go to the little cafe you like going to a lot, eta in about five minutes, i forgot your key so could you let me in please? thank you love, bye bye”

[jeankluv]

The tale of the fox and the knight - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 02

summary: You have been living all your life in almost isolation due to your true nature, one your parents want to hide and protect you from anyone finding it. But when the spring of your 20 year your parents grant you the wish of being able to walk around the city, you meet him. Your doom. Satoru Gojo, a white haired knight whose intentions in your eyes are unkown. And whose presence in your life will change everything, from how you see the world to your way of being.

words: 4,9k

tags: enemies to lovers, blood, eventual smut, Gojo is pretty rude at the beginning, Gojo ooc, betrayal, fantasy, magical creatures, angst, injuries, heavy language, no use of y/n or minimal use of y/n, female protagonist

Warning for this chapter: it contains kidnapping and violence

notes: it’s been so long, but until last week I wasn’t done with exams, fortunately, if nothing happens I will be able to be more active bringing more chapters soon. If everything goes well Birdie next chapter will be out soon too.

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

— sorry for any typo that could be —

You felt your body numb, your limbs hurt and your body was leaning on something hard and cold. You were completely frozen.

Your eyes began to open slowly, the sun was not very high but you could see your surroundings clearly. You were in a forest and a little to the left there was a river that accompanied the sound of birds singing.

“Scream and I will cut your tongue.” You trembled when you heard those words.

Turning your head you saw the figure of a man dressed completely in dark colors, a cape covering his hair and a face mask, you could only see his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw them clearly.

“Satoru?”

What was happening? Why was Satoru dressed like that? Why did he tell you that?

You tried to move, trying to reach him but it was then when you noticed. Your hands were tied together.

“What…?” You said looking at them.

“You can try to get loose, but I highly doubt you’ll be able to undo the knot I’ve tied.” Satoru moved from where he was and approached his horse.

The morning breeze seemed much colder and sharper after hearing those words. “What do you mean?” Your voice came out trembling from the back of your throat. “Satoru, this isn’t funny. Untie me! We must return to the castle and find out what happened.”

Satoru chuckled. “I thought you were smarter, I guess I was wrong and you are just a stupid princess.”

Everything started to crumble, you felt how your world started to shake as Satoru’s words hit you right in the face.

“I don’t trust him.”

Utahime told you. She warned you, but you didn’t pay attention to it, you just ignored it.

Your hands clenched, wrinkling your dress, the dress Utahime had worked so hard to make. Now it was dirty, torn, and you didn't know if Utahime was okay, if your parents were okay, if everyone in the castle was okay…

“Was it you?” You said, not looking at him, not wanting to see his face.

Say no, say no please.

“Yes.” The dagger dug deeper into your heart.

You pressed your lips together tightly, digging your upper teeth into your lower lip, so much so that you could taste blood entering your mouth.

Your gaze lifted to look at the person in front of you.

Satoru smirked, this was not the princess he had known. That look you were giving him could bury him alive, but Satoru didn’t care.

“They are alive?” You whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

Satoru dropped to the ground, and crossed his legs, while biting into an apple. “Who knows.”

“You are…” But your words were left flying in the air.

“I am what?” He raised his chin arrogantly. “Come on, talk.”

“A monster!” You yelled. “Soon they will find me and… and they will catch you and you will pay for everything!”

“And when will yours pay?” You heard him murmur. “That won’t happen.” He then said with his normal tone. “Now change to these clothes.” He threw a bunch of clothes to your side.

You looked at them, they were a similar colour to his clothes. “No.” You said. “I’m not changing. I won’t go with you or follow your orders.”

Satoru sighed and scratched his forehead, irritated by your words. “Would you rather I take off your dress?”

Your face paled slightly and you swallowed hard. His voice sounded so different from what you were used to that it was almost scary. “No… I’ll do it…” You said, grabbing the clothes and holding them against your chest. “But… it’ll be a little difficult to do it with your hands like this.” You looked at your tied hands and then at him.

Satoru looked at your hands and stood up from where he was, your heart racing when he pulled out a dagger from one of his side pockets. “Don’t try to escape, bunny, or I’ll hunt you down.”

“I won’t.” You tried to sound as firm as possible. “But turn around.”

“Don’t worry bunny. I’m not interested in you at all.”

You shouldn't have felt anything after hearing those words, because the man before you had betrayed you in everything, but they still hurt.

The rope fell and you carefully got up from where you were. Satoru turned and walked to his horse with his back to you. You walked a little further, far enough to find a sheltered place where you could change.

You needed a plan, something to escape. That man was not the one you had known for 5 months, you couldn't think of the possibility that through your words he would change.

His gaze told you that it wouldn't happen, that you shouldn't even try. The blue, which reminded you so much of the paintings of the sea, was no longer there. Now it was a dark blue, dark like a stormy night.

Utahime's dress fell to your feet and a small sob escaped from your lips. You didn't want to cry, you didn't want him to see you shed a single tear, you wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

The icy cold of that morning hit your skin and you quickly put on the clothes that he had thrown at you. They were dark clothes, suitable if you wanted to go unnoticed. The fabric looked worn and was not very warm. With that outfit you would be unable to survive the Zerua winter.

You turned around noticing how Satoru was still with his back to you, caressing his horse. Grabbing Utahime's dress in your hands and wiping away a few tears, you walked towards him.

“You done?” He turned around, giving you a brief look through your hold body, stopping on your red hair.

With a few steps he was inches away from you. “What…?”

“Your hair… It’s too conspicuous. Something needs to be done about it…” He tangled his finger in your lock of hair. Your eyes met his.

Why couldn’t this be a nightmare? You wanted to wake up in your room and see that it had simply been a bad dream, that Satoru hadn’t stabbed you.

“What are you thinking, bunny?” You heard his voice and you snapped, hitting his hand away from your hair.

“No, leave my hair.” You said holding the lock that was on his hands before.

“Bunny, you have two options…” He showed his two fingers. “Or you dyed it or you cut it.”

“I’m not doing any of that!” You told him with anger.

He sighed. “You want me to chose?” He got closer to you. “No, right? So chose.”

You bite your lip with anger. “I’m not doing what you tell me.”

“You want me to get angry, bunny?” He moved and you walked a step away till you hit a tree. “I’m being nice letting you choose.”

You held your breath as you looked at his eyes, how was it possible he faked his own personality so good during those 5 months? Everything he showed you was just play? Was that the real Satoru?

Before you could say a single word, Satoru’s big hand covered your mouth, preventing you from saying anything at all. His gaze sharpened, and you could feel his body tense up.

He was nervous.

It was then that you heard some voices, getting closer and closer. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you knew they were coming towards you.

Maybe that was your chance, you could ask for help. Go home.

Determined, you grabbed Satoru’s hand and pulled it away from you. “Help!”

Satoru covered your mouth again and his voice came out hoarse from his throat. “Shut up.”

Satoru’s grip tightened as he looked at you and you felt scared. But you couldn’t stop there, that might be the clearest way for you to run away from him.

Clenching your fist you hit Satoru in the ribs, the moment he loosened his grip you hit him in the chin causing his grip to disappear completely.

Given that opportunity you ran in the direction of the voices, you needed to get there as soon as possible. You could go back home, to your parents, to Utahime, to everyone. Your feet moved quickly, getting closer to your destination.

You pushed aside a few branches when you found yourself face to face with about five men. Their clothes indicated that they were not from the royal guard, they were disheveled.

“Please, I need help.” You spoke after a moment of falling silent.

The men looked at each other and then one of them smiled. “Of course, what's wrong?”

You looked back, looking to see if Satoru was nearby. “A man kidnapped me. And… I need to go home.”

“Did he kidnap you?” He smirked, making your skin crawl.

“Boss, look at her hair!” One of the men said excitedly.

“It’s red!” Another exclaimed, looking at you.

“How much do you think they’d give us for her?” Another asked.

“With that hair color? A lot for sure.” The last man finally spoke.

Your heart rate began to rise rapidly and you took a step back. You had escaped from the claws of a ferocious eagle only to fall into the mouth of a pack of wolves.

The group began to approach and when you tried to run away, one of them grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground.

You couldn’t help but sob at the pain and fear you were feeling at that moment.

“Tie her up.” The sturdiest of them all spoke. “And don’t make a single mark on her, you know the price will go down if she has a scratch.” He grabbed your face as he looked at you.

You broke free from his grip but the one holding you shook you, causing you to whimper. You closed your eyes tightly as you prayed for that moment to pass quickly and for someone to appear and help you.

The voices of the group of men mixed with the sounds of nature. But that peace was interrupted when a child pierced your ears.

Your eyes widened and you watched as one of the men lay on the ground, dying in pain.

“Bastard!” You heard another scream.

It was then that your eyes saw him, the white hair that reflected the faint rays of sunlight that passed through the branches of the trees.

Satoru was there, he looked much larger and creepier, so much so that it made you shiver when his gaze met yours. It almost seemed like his eyes were red and not blue, no shade of blue could be seen in his gaze.

One of the men lunged at Satoru with his sword and you gasped in fear. The one next to you grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you, trying to get you away from the scene.

You watched as Satoru easily dodged each sword strike, as if it were child's play to him.

“Come on!” The man yelled at you.

“Let me go!” You yelled back, throwing your arms in the air trying to hit him.

“Shut up!” He yelled as he pulled you tighter.

Satoru was too focused on fighting the other men to see the situation you were fighting. You couldn't depend on him either, especially knowing that he was someone ruthless too.

You shook yourself trying to get him to let you go but to no avail, his grip was stronger than all your strength. You began to move away from where all the commotion was happening.

The man had your hair tied tightly, almost as if his life depended on it, he walked in front of you and your head was looking at the ground, you could only see his feet as he practically dragged you. No matter how much you hit him with your arms, you were clumsy and weak.

What could you expect from a princess who had been sheltered in a castle all her life? Nothing.

The man stopped walking abruptly, causing your face to crash into his back. With your eyes still closed the man pulled you.

“Don’t take another step!” He shouted.

Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp blade of the sword touch your throat.

“Come on…” You heard Satoru laugh, he was standing in front of you. “You have no choice, haven’t you seen your friends?” He tilted his head.

“Bastard…” The man whispered through clenched teeth, tightening his grip and moving closer to your face. “One cut and it won’t be worth anything, you know that right?”

“I don’t care.” Satoru said with disdain.

You gritted your teeth at his indifference and looked at him with contempt, and he just smiled.

The man started laughing, as if he had lost his mind. “You know what…” You felt the intense pain when the sword grazed your cheek and you sobbed. “Keep it, but I...” He pulled at your hair. “I’ll keep this.” With the sword he had used to hurt you, he cut your hair. “Red hair, this will make me rich.” And he turned to walk away.

Your knees hit the ground and the metallic taste of blood touched your lips. You didn't look up, your mind was too far from reality to look at what was happening around you.

Satoru, for his part, sighed in frustration as he watched the man begin to walk away. You had wanted to run away from him and in the end you ran into some smugglers from the mountain.

Satoru reluctantly grabbed his bow and one of the arrows he was carrying with him. Closing his eyes, he aimed at the smuggler who was getting further and further away. The string tightened and just as it had tightened, it loosened and the man fell to the ground.

Satoru turned his eyes back to you, who still had your head down.

“Come on, get up.” He said, passing by you to get his arrow.

The sound of birds and leaves breaking under his feet was the only thing that could be heard during the time that Satoru walked towards the corpse of that man. He forcefully pulled out the arrow and cleaned it before putting it back.

You were still on the ground, not moving, almost like a statue. Satoru scratched his head frustrated and walked towards you.

“Come on princess.” He spoke, but still you didn’t move. “You should have listened to me from the beginning.” He said.

Satoru was startled when his back hit the ground and he felt your weight on him, you were looking at him angrily. Your eyes were wet and your face had turned slightly pink, because of the rage that was accumulated in you.

“It’s all your fault!” You screamed and began to hit him angrily. “Everything! Absolutely everything is your fault!”

Satoru took your blows, one by one, without saying anything until he got tired of your tantrum and grabbed your wrists, spinning you around and trapping you beneath him.

“Stop being a child, I told you not to do anything stupid and the first thing you did was run into the lion’s den.” His face came closer. “Did you live in such a bubble that they never told you about the mountain bandits?”

You gritted your teeth as you looked at him. “I hate you…” You whispered. “You don’t know how much I do… I hope they find us and you suffer the worst punishment.”

Satoru looked at you and then pulled you up from the ground. “I’m sure you do.” He simply said. “Now let’s go.”

You snorted and wiped the tears from your cheeks, you didn't want to go with him, but what other option did you have? None. Satoru was right. You were nothing more than a princess who had always been locked away in a castle, away from everything for her safety.

“If it makes you feel better.” Satoru said, looking at you. “The man who cut your hair is dead.”

You rolled your eyes and stifled an ironic laugh.

Silence fell again as you followed Satoru's steps. You noticed how Satoru had changed direction after a while. That wasn't the path you had walked when you had tried to escape from him. Was he trying to keep you from seeing the corpses of those bandits? You quickly shook that idea out of your head. You didn't want to paint the image of the person in front of you and convince yourself again that something of the one you had known was still there.

The dry leaves of the trees broke under your feet as you walked along a path. Your eyes were on the ground, checking where you stepped to avoid falling.

Satoru finally stopped walking and your eyes went up, finding his black horse. Its coat glistened under the bright sunlight. You carefully approached it and petted it gently, the horse responding by shaking its head and bringing it closer to you.

A smile appeared on your face, the first since you had woken up in that nightmare.

“He likes you.” You heard him say.

Your smiled dropped as soon as you heard him. “What’s his name?” You asked.

You needed to keep the whole situation as normal as possible, or else you would lose yourself if you were construido thinking about the situation.

Having a “normal” conversation would help you with it.

“You never told me.” Your voice slowly disappearing as you said those words.

“Name?” Satoru looked at you while putting a few things in a bag that he then hung on each side of the animal. “He doesn’t have.”

“How could you not give him a name?” You said following his movements.

“I didn’t feel like it, he is going to die eventually, so is better not to get attached to it.” He said. “Now, go up.” He moved his head to the horse.

“I can do it myself.” You said grabbing the reins and the seat. You pushed your body forward and tried to get on, your leg failed and you fell back to its initial position. Closing your eyes you blew. “You can do it.”

“We don’t have all day.” You heard Satoru speak behind you.

You let out a growl and tried again, you don’t know if it was the anger you had inside or the fact that you didn’t want to hear Satoru’s voice again that made you manage to get on the horse.

You sat proudly on the top of the horse and look at Satoru with arrogance.

“So the princess can really ride a horse?” Satoru said.

“Didn’t you say we didn’t have the whole day?” You responded with irony.

“And actitud…” He said and sat behind you. “Alright bunny, let’s go and remember to follow my words.”

“Don’t call me that.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “And keep your hands on the reins.” You said and turned your gaze away from him.

“Alright…” He said your name this time and your heart jumped.

Stupid heart.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Utahime injuries weren’t severe, but what hurt the most weren’t the injuries, it was her heart which ached everytime she remembered you.

Looking at the empty room Utahime felt an urge to cry.

Where are you, princess? Are you okay?

That bastard, I know he was not trustworthy.

“Iori.” She heard her name being called.

Utahime turned around, whipping away the tears she had. “Yes?”

The other maid hesitated, but she finally spoke. “I heard they might have a clue.”

As soon as the maid told her everything about it Utahime rushed to the place. Her knees hurt, but she didn’t mind, she needed to hear everything.

She entered without a knock, she knew someone of her status shouldn’t do that but she was too anxious to think about anything else.

The room fell silent when she stepped in, all the eyes were locked in her.

“Oh! Utahime dear!” Your mother tried to move from her seat but Utahime quickly moved to her.

“Her majesty, please don’t move.” Utahime held her hand.

“Utahime, my baby, where is she?” That was the first time Utahime saw the queen so vulnerable.

“I don’t know…” She said defeated.

“You were her closest maid, right?” An old voice filled the silence of the room.

Utahime look at him, he was one of the elders, one of the king's advisors and one of the reasons for your contact with the world.

“Yes sir.” Utahime responded.

“So maybe you know what happened to her.”

“I don’t sir.”

“Maybe you can confirm with us the fact that she ran away with her personal guard.”

“The princess wouldn’t do that!” Utahime said in a loud voice.

“How are you so sure, miss?” The old man smiled. “According to the people working for her, the princess looked very much in love with the guard. And now both of them are gone.”

Utahime gritted his teeth, you would never do that, cause an accident and run away? No, you loved that place, the people there, you would never be capable of that. “She would never…” Utahime’s words hung in the air when the door to the room opened.

Utahime narrowed her eyes as she looked at the figure standing there, it was a knight, he was wearing armor, but it was in poor condition, stained with mud and a crimson red color.

“Knight Geto!” One of the knights shouted approaching him.

Suguru Geto.

Utahime knew who he was, he was one of the knights in the castle, apparently a skilled one and one of the candidates to be the princess guard, but ended up losing against Satoru Gojo.

She narrowed her eyes, seeing how his arm was heavily injured and he looked like he came back from a battle.

“Hey! You are bleeding.” A knight spoke as he held him. “Stop! You need to…”

“I need to speak with the king!” Geto spoke and the room fell silent.

“Speak.” His majesty said.

“It’s about that knight, the escort of the princess, Gojo. He was plotting against the kingdom and I’m sure he was behind the incident that happened yesterday.” The silence felt heavier than before.

“Why are you so sure about this?”

“I found him receiving a message outside the castle.”

“And why didn't you warn everyone? Look what happened now! The princess is gone and who knows where they are taking her.” The elder spoke.

“I fought him…” Geto took his own arm. “But he was stronger than me.”

“So what? That’s everything you had to say?” The elder choked laughing. “We already knew this, tell us something new.”

Utahime saw how Geto rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Gojo mentioned something or at least that’s what I think I heard before passing out.” He sat down, sighed leaving his lips due to the pain. “He talked about revenge… something about what happened 20 years ago to his family.”

“That’s it?” The elder exclaimed. “You didn’t bring anything new to the table.”

“Enough.” His majesty the king finally spoke. “The princess has been kidnapped by someone who was close to her, we made a mistake by believing the lies that man told us when he joined our army.” He stood from his place. “Now what matters is finding the princess, before…” The king focused his gaze on the elder.

A mischievous smile appeared on him. “Exactly! The princess needs to be back. Put your best men to search for her.” He spoke to the commander of the royal guards.

“They will start searching as soon as they are ready.”

“I would like to…” Gato tried to talk.

“Aren’t you embarrassing enough? After being defeated by the enemy and letting everything happen you wanna help?” Geto felt silent as the elder spoke. “You.” He pointed at Utahime. “Treat him.”

Who did he think he was?

“Yes sir.” Utahime approached. “Let’s go and treat your wounds.”

Geto only sighed and he walked carefully besides Utahime, still feeling the anger on his chest after hearing that man’s words.

The room soon enough was only left with four people, the king and queen, who were holding hands trying to erase the anxiety that they were feeling, commander Yaga and the elder.

“Warlock… you think he is behind this?” The king spoke as he looked at the elder.

“It could be… the information about the princess' real identity might have been leaked.”

The king, frustrated, touched his face. “Yaga, I trust you to find the princess. Please bring my daughter back home and the head of that bastard.”

“Yes my king.” Yaga kneel down. “I promise I will bring the princess back home.”

“And Warlock… are you sure the information about the princess has been leaked?” The elder nodded. “I will trust you with the investigation, you have served my father before and me, I know you can do a good job to find the traitor.”

“I will do my best, my king.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Satoru could swear that you had snorted a thousand times, and probably rolled your eyes a thousand times throughout the journey.

The last rays of sunlight were beginning to set behind the mountains and not far from you the lights of a small village were beginning to appear. Satoru knew he had to be careful with you, you could try to escape again. But luckily for him you had gone quite far from the capital and if they had started the search it would still take them a while to find you.

When you finally reached the village the sun had completely hidden behind the mountains and the streets of that place barely had any life.

“We will spend the night here.” Satoru got off the horse and looked at you from below. “Can the princess get off by herself?” He said disdainfully.

You snorted and rolling your eyes you moved your leg to get off the horse without any complications. You looked over your shoulder at Satoru and smiled proudly.

Satoru just smiled. “Very well. Now.” He took a step towards you. “Remember, do as I say.”

“Do I have a choice?” You crossed your arms.

“No, since I need you alive.” Satoru said it casually.

You narrowed your eyes and looked at him. “Why? Do you know about…” You let the words hang in the air.

You shouldn’t talk about it, there was a chance he didn’t know and the reason for all of this was to blackmail your father for land or something else. But it wasn’t possible for Satoru to know about your secret, not when only a few people knew about it. Not even Utahime, the person closest to you knew about it.

“About what?” Satoru crossed his arms.

“Forget it. I’m hungry.” You said crossing your arms.

“Unfortunately, your personal chef isn’t here and I’m not going to be yours.” Satoru argued.

“I didn’t want you to be either, I’m sure you cook badly.” You said back.

“Come on, there’s a tavern open over there and remember, keep your mouth shut.” He whispered the last part into your ear.

You looked at him coldly and he just smiled. Your stomach rumbled and you touched it, you were really hungry. The walk to the tavern was short and silent, but the silence that had been created was soon interrupted by the hubbub coming from inside the tavern.

Satoru’s hand grabbed the hood and placed it over your reddish hair. You slapped his hand away and he rolled his eyes.

The two of you entered the tavern and were soon greeted by the smell of alcohol and smoke that made it practically impossible to see anything. You sat down at a table, a bit away from the crowd and near a window.

“You two are travelers right?” A man asked as he approached your table. “The journey must have been exhausting, what would you like to have?”

You bite your lip, you were really hungry at that moment. “We will have the chicken.” Satoru replied before you could even say anything.

“One for each?”

Satoru looked at you and smiled. “Dear, you will able to eat one full chicken?”

Dear? Was he pretending to be a couple so no one would suspect anything? You wanted to laugh. “Yes please.” You looked at the man and then back at Satoru. “And don’t call me that.” Satoru’s smile dropping as yours grew bigger.

“Oh I guess the couple is having problems.”

“Yeah, just…”

“We are not a couple.” You spoke with a smile.

The man looked at both of you and with a silent bow he left. Your gaze then met Satoru’s who was coldly looking at you. “What are you doing?” He said with a low tone.

“Nothing?”

“I told you to follow what I said right?” He looked at you with those intense blue eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “If you thought I was going to be the submissive princess you knew, I’m sorry but no.”

If you wanted to survive and go back home, you needed to change, you couldn’t flinch before him even when your heart still reacted at him.

You needed to be smarter than him and you needed to start by changing your attitude towards him. That was not the Satoru you knew and you couldn’t be the you he knew.

Satoru only looked at you, locking your eyes with his and feeling the burning anger that you had there.

final note: remember that this Gojo is completely ooc and that is a slow burn, and I don’t want to rush things with reader and Gojo so it will take time for them to start something. Also I’m not planning another couple in the story, just in case. But I’m planning on telling the castle pov from Utahime and reveal things of the story from her pov

— comment if you wanna be tagged

💌: @zoeyflower @faeriesworld101 @coffee-and-geto @alifromtheotherworld @fangirlingtod3ath @laeve-rae-alone @megumisthirdog @wlwkorrasami @starlight5cat @yourfaveava @manyno @kianatrg @iamtherealestet @tracysdemise @certainduckanchor @aloserprobably @glittercherry777 @sylussss7 @n1vi @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

[henrythehorse]

Since the rise of The Beatles, John has gained the image of the vicious, outspoken Beatle. How did he like it? "It’s been very useful," he replied. "A lot of slimy reporter types seem to have got to fear me, it’s fantastic. I didn’t work for the title of the vicious Beatle, the biting Beatle, the one with the rapier wit. It’s a load of crap. It’s handy being tagged like this. When I meet intelligent and hip people, I have to be on my toes not to disillusion them. The people who have fallen for my image and publicity go to Paul, which I think’s funnier still."

"Paul can be very cynical and much more biting than me when he’s driven to it. ’Course, he’s got more patience. But he can carve people up in no time at all, when he’s pushed. He hits the nail right on the head and doesn’t beat around the bush, does Paul."

John Lennon, interview w/ Ray Coleman for Melody Maker. (April 10th, 1965)

I remember John saying to me, ‘God, I remember walking behind a group of press and you at some cocktail reception. I was just hovering near, and you were giving them the world’s greatest bullshit! Not a word of it was true,’ he said. ‘I loved it, though, it was brilliant.'

Paul McCartney: Many Years from Now by Barry Miles

“You know, it serves Paul right,” John went on. “I think subconsciously he wanted to get busted.” John speculated that Paul’s fondness for marijuana was his way of “rebelling against this image of the ‘goody-two-shoes’ businessman” with which the Eastmans had stuck him. “Paul wanted to show the world—particularly the British—that he’s still a bit of a bad boy’ John concluded."

The Last Days of John Lennon: A Personal Memoir by Fred Seaman

JOHN: Well, he had a single – it’s on the radio, out here – and I thought that ‘Coming Up’ was great! But I liked the freak version that he made in his barn [more] than that live Glasgow one, you see. I’m – yeah.

HILBURN: The one that’s on the album. The one with the speeded up voices?

JOHN: Yeah, I think that’s – if I’d been with him, I would have said, “Yes, that’s the one,” too, and I thought that the record company had the nerve changing it round on him. But you know, I know what they mean, they want to hear the real guy singing, but I like the freaky one. Stevie Wonder does it, nobody moans at him. 

John Lennon in talks with LA Times writer Robert Hilburn. October 10th, 1980 (Hit Factory, New York).

[frost-queen]

Persevering love // part 3 (Male!Reader x Bridgerton siblings)

 Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers,  @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine  , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @winter-solstice24, @how-what-why-huh

Summary: After the Sharma's have visted, you start to feel more like your old self. Even daring to go to your first ball even if it was just to see that one person once more. [part 1 & part 2]

The door swung open as Gregory ran inside. Startling Violet, Francesca and Colin. Not a moment later you stormed in after him. Gregory laughing loud and screaming in delight. They all blinked confused when you ran up to Gregory.

Wrapping your arm around him and lifting him up with a groan. Gregory kept laughing as you set him back down. – “Got ya!” – you called out with a chuckle. You noticed your family staring in confusion at the two of you. – “Sorry mama.” – you breathed out at the disturbance.

Violet smiled. – “I’m glad to see your smile again.” – she responded. Colin approached you, ruffling his fingers through your hair. It made you smile, lowering your head. – “You’ve become more childish.” – he teased. You removed his hand from your hair, giving him a playful shove.

Gregory pressed his hands against your lower stomach. – “I’ll race you to the other side!” – he called out. – “On it!” – you replied pushing Colin out of the way. The two of you started running out of the drawing room. – “Be careful!” – Violet shouted loud afraid you would not hear it anymore.

Gregory and you were racing. Running through the house whilst laughing loud. Anthony appeared from his study, immediately jumping back at the two quick figures nearly knocking him over.

“You can’t catch me!” – he heard Gregory shout loud. Making Anthony scratch the back of his head, staring back at you with a smile. Normally he’d comment on it that running was not allowed in the house, but this time he didn’t.

Not when he saw how happy you were. How more and more you started feeling like your old self again. The brother he knew from before the war. The goofy brother that had a care-free spirit. You picked up Gregory with one arm, letting him fall on your bed as you couldn’t uphold the weight any longer.

Exhaling out pants, you let yourself fall on the bed beside him. Gregory rolled over to his side, coming to lean on his elbow. You breathed out a laugh, turning your head to him. – “Something on my face?” – you asked wiping it.

Gregory chuckled, shaking his head. You dropped your arm over your eyes, catching your breath. – “I’m just glad to have my brother back.” – he responded poking your cheek. You lifted your arm up from over your eyes, looking cheeky at him. – “Am I your favourite brother?” – you asked him teasingly.

He laughed loud as you waved your hand. – “No, don’t tell me.” – you said looking back up at the ceiling. Cracking up a smile. Gregory lifted your hand up to look at your face. – “You are the most fun one.” – he told you. Humming loud, you were pleased with his answer. – “Good enough.” – you spoke coming to sit up with a loud groan. Gregory came sitting up as well.

Letting his head lean against your shoulder. – “Thank you for staying with me.” – you told him, taking his hand. Gregory curled up a saddened smile. – “I’ll do anything for my brother.” – he responded. – “Truly?” – you answered quirking your eyebrow up with a cheeky smile

Gregory lifted his head up, chuckling nervously. He got up slowly backing away from the bed. You got up as well with a finger held up. – “Will you give me all the chocolate macrons?” – you said teasingly. You knew just how much he loved those. Gregory swallowed hard. – “Yes…” – he said after some time.

“You hesitated.” – you replied with a smirk. He quickly shook his head. – “Your macrons are mine.” – you called out. – “Mother!” – Gregory shouted loud, running out of your room to save his precious macrons. Unable to hold it in, you started laughing loud.

“Something funny?” – Benedict questioned when he came peeking in your room as the door stood open. You sighed soft, pinking some happy tears away. Nearing Benedict, giving him a pat on his chest before leaving. You followed him downstairs back to the drawing room.

After diner everyone got up to prepare for tonight’s ball. They were all standing in the hallway when you came down the stairs. Dressed up in a suit. – “Y/n?” – Anthony said confused. You cleared your throat nervously. – “Got room for one more?” – you commented avoiding eye contact. Your brothers gleaming with pride for you.

“Always.” – Benedict responded throwing an arm around you. Giving you a sturdy pat on your shoulder. – “What made you decide to join us tonight?” – he asked curious. You smiled sheepishly, hand disappearing into your pocket. Clenching around something long.

“It doesn’t matter.” – Violet said coming nearer. You removed your hand from your pocket when she placed her hand under your chin. – “Even if it just for one ball, I am glad you have found the confidence to show yourself. For you should not be ashamed.” – she spoke.

You cleared your throat nervously, looking briefly away. Grabbing for the rolled up sleeve that hid your stomp. Anthony walked up to you, throwing his arms around you in a hug. – “My brother!” – he let out smiling. – “No one needs to dare comment about you brother.” – Colin pitched in, knowing how insecure you were about your limb.

You had lost your under arm during the war. Something you could not easily hide. Knowing many people would stare at it or ask questions about it. – “If they dare, they’ll have to face us.” – Anthony added patting you on your cheek. Violet cleared her throat that it was time to leave. Your brothers surrounding you. Practically carrying you on hands outside.

Blessed that you were still amongst them. You joined the carriage with your family. Sitting nervously by the window. Your gaze went up to the skies. The carriage wobbling over cobblestone. Exhaling nervously at what was to come. A ball. Your first to be exact. Since you have returned from the war, you had not attended one.

It was foolish considering what you went through. Also you felt too ashamed with your battle injury. Exhaling deep you let your hand slide in your pocket once more. Grabbing firm around the long thin object, hidden away. 

The thing that gave you strength to put yourself out there. Something a kind heart had blossomed inside of you. Your gaze went towards Anthony, sitting across from you. Biting your lip hesitantly. Anthony noticed you were watching, showing you a smile. You smiled partly back, turning your gaze back to the outdoors.

Your nerves spiked up when the carriage came to a stop. Footman opening the door. All of you getting out one by one. You let your mother and Anthony go first. Wanting to hide somewhere in the middle of your siblings.

You swallowed nervously when the doors to the ballroom opened. Several heads turned in the direction of the Bridgerton’s. Seeing a curious figure amongst them. You lowered your head, rather wanting to disappear than remain. It would be the first time everyone has seen you since you left for the war.

Anthony looked over his shoulder, seeing you shuffled backwards for an escape. He wouldn’t let you, grabbing you by your arm. He pulled you to the front with him. – “Everyone cheer for my brother!” – he called out proudly, swinging your arm up. You could die on the spot from fright. The ton all raised their glasses, shouting ‘hear hear’ for you.  Clapping and bowing at your presence.

Anthony smiled proudly rubbing your chest playfully. Keeping an arm around you. Proud to show off his brother to the ton. You gave him a playful shove for humiliating you like that, but secretly you liked it. Your brothers hyping you up with such proudness.

Glad to have you by their sides. Colin came joining in throwing his arm over Anthony and yours shoulder. – “Let’s drink brothers.” – he said patting you on your shoulder. You followed your family down the stairs. Several lord and ladies bowing when you walked past. Your eyes met with some girls as they smiled bashful.

It made you smile uncomfortable at the sudden attention. Benedict nudging you with a cheeky smile. You shoved his head away with a roll of your eyes. Anthony handed you a drink. All raising a toast to your first ball. Your brothers and you all laughed, feeling Eloise wrap her arm around yours.

Letting her head rest against your shoulder. Allowing her to squeeze her head against you. You raised your arm wanting to pat her on the head. Mid-way you stared at your rolled up sleeve. Seeing you were missing your underarm and hand. It made you laugh at how easily you had forgotten about it.

Lowering your arm, you let your gaze go around the ballroom. Some ladies came blocking your vision, suddenly standing before you. – “Mister Bridgerton.” – they said with a curtsy. It made you look nervously away. One of them rose her hand, showing you her dance card. – “Would you be so kind as to sign mine for a dance?” – she asked rather boldly.

Eloise quirked her eyebrow up, looking up at you. Clearing your throat, you felt warm. – “I… apologize ladies, but I… wouldn’t be such a great dance partner.” – you told them referring to having an arm less. – “You still got your feet.” – another one pointed out. It made you look down at your feet, knocking the sides to each other.

Chuckling nervously whilst touching your ear. – “I do…” – you responded. Eloise rolled her eyes stepping in. – “My brother also still has the ability to choose and he says no.” – Eloise called out, shooing them away. The girls pulled up their noses, taking their leave. You mouthed a thank you to her.

Turning your head, your eyes widened seeing her from across the ballroom. Glorious in pink. Clearing your throat, you straightened your posture. – “I’ll be right back.” – you told Eloise, taking your leave. She blinked confused, shrugged her shoulders and went to the buffet to stuff some cakes in her mouth.

You moved across to reach your destination. Taking in a deep breath, the closer you got to her. Seeing that charming smile on her lips. She lightly turned her head, eyes twinkling even more at your presence. – “Mister Bridgerton!” – she called out. – “Miss Edwina.” – you responded with a bow. – “I did not expect to see you here tonight.” – she responded rocking her body a bit from side to side.

It made you smile sheepishly, hand diving in your pocket once more. – “I…I… uhm…” – you felt yourself stumble over your words. Feeling like a blathering fool around her. Her eyes fell on your arm, gasping in delight. – “You rolled it up.” – she said touching your sleeve briefly. – “I.. I did.” – you spoke.

“Well I am very proud of you.” – she said with a sweet smile. It made you rub the back of your head nervously. – “I… I uhm… I still needed to give you this.” – you said taking out the object from your pocket. – “My pin!” – Edwina called out. – “The one you had given to me for my sleeve.” – you responded.

Edwina accepted the pin from you with a bashful smile. Her eyes fell on your sleeve once more. You looked down as well. – “I’m afraid this pin is rather boring.” – you told her with a laugh. Edwina reached for your sleeve. – “Then you must keep it.” – she spoke pricking her pin through the fabric to keep your rolled up sleeve in place. – “But…” – you responded. Edwina giggled finding you sweet.

It made you smile back at her. – “Tell me mister Bridgerton, are you here to show off your dance skills?” – she asked touching your arm. The arm that was wounded from the war. It made you look at it as not many people dared to touch it, besides your family.

“Or have you been saving them only for me?” – she added with gleaming eyes. Your eyes locked with hers. – “Only for you.” – you blurted out before you could think properly. Edwina giggled even more scrunching her nose as you exhaled at how beautiful she was. Further away stood Violet and Anthony.

“Now they seem very matching, don’t you think Anthony.” – Violet spoke. Anthony turned his head to watch you chatting with Edwina. A smile curling up his lips. Despite that he was courting Edwina, he didn’t really felt much for her. Violet glanced up to him, watching him smile. It made her smile as well that her son was finally realizing that Edwina was not the girl for him.

That his heart was elsewhere. With another Sharma girl. Anthony couldn’t deny feeling happiness when watching the both of you. – “They sure do.” – he responded, looking back at his mother. His gaze than drifting away locking with Kate somewhere in the crowd.

Edwina giggled loud taking you by the arm. Before you could protest, she pulled you to the dance. – “Edwina.” – you chuckled out nervously as she kept dragging you. She put you to a stop on the dancefloor. Coming to stand before you with a smile on her lips. The music began as she hopped forwards.

You felt a bit nervous with so many eyes observing, yet Edwina didn’t seem to be affected by them. Taking you by the arm, pulling it up. Keeping her hand up to twirl underneath your wounded arm. Not caring that she was not holding onto a hand. She then set her hand on your shoulder, her other on your back.

You touched her lower back as she led you into a waltz. She kept giggling, enjoying every moment of the dance. Each time she needed to hold your hand, she kept her hand on your upper arm. Unbothered by the watching eyes. It didn’t take you long to smile as well. Enjoy the dance with her as you have never felt more alive than now.

Edwina twirled a few times before you. Ending with her hands pressed against your chest. Looking pantingly up at you. You were out of breath too. Reaching your knuckles up to her. Touching her cheek lovingly. Edwina leaned into it, closing her eyes to cherish the touch more.

You cleared your throat, looking nervously around. Hoping you wouldn’t anger Anthony with this. It was something you did not anticipate. It simply happened. You fell for her caring and kind heart. You found your brother amongst the crowd, clapping with a reassuring nod your way. Letting you know it was alright.

Edwina took you by the arm, pulling you away from the dancefloor. – “I only have so much fun with you mister Bridgerton.” – she let out. – “As do I.” – you responded, taking her dance card in your hand. – “So I only reserve my feet for you.” – you told her before writing your name in big letters across her dance card.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 61

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,490ish

Summary: Laura seems to be moving on with her life and you aren't taking it well.

Notes: Please share reactions! 

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Wade sat in the library in the TVA where all the files where kept. B-15 walked over and dropped all the files on you and your variants on the table.

“You know, for an all powerful agency, you sure are behind the times,” Wade commented, eyeing the paper files. “Maybe I can do you a solid and also digitize these?”

“We’re not looking for that, Mr. Wilson,” B-15 responded. “These files are not to leave this library and, trust me, we will know if they do.”

“Don’t worry, if these files don’t have anything useful, I won’t be taking anything from them.”

B-15 sighed. “Good luck, Wade. I hope you find something that could help Y/N. She deserves an easier life.”

Wade nodded as B-15 left and he focused in on the files. “Okay, let’s see what we can find to save my Buttercup.”

~~~

You didn’t believe Logan when he told you that Wade was off on some mission the X-Men recruited him to be on. He had clearly forgotten that a younger version of you was with the X-Men right now. But you didn’t question it. Though you were beginning to worry as it had now been weeks since you’d last seen him and your life was much quieter currently.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Laura called, bounding out of her room and down the hall.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” You asked as you wiped your hands off on your apron. 

“I got in!”

“What?” You felt like your heart stopped.

“I got into Columbia!”

“Oh my gosh, Laura!” You quickly brought her into a crushing hug as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. So proud.”

She pulled away slightly. “Mom, please don’t cry.”

“Can’t help it. I’m just so proud that you’re my daughter. When do you start?”

“Actually, there’s a few half semester classes I’m interested in and I already contacted my counselor and they said I could start next week.”

“Next week?” That had you wanting to cry harder, but you held back.

“Yeah! Oh, and I got a job on campus that will allow me to put money towards tuition and give me a little scholarship.”

Your world was spinning faster now. “And when do you start that?”

“I’m actually going to get ready and head there.”

“Laura… how long have you known about all this? There’s no way this all happened today.”

Laura sighed. “I’m sorry, mom. I guessed that you might have a hard time so I made sure I had everything in order before telling you.”

It made you ache to hear that she was worried about you, especially knowing that she was right. “No matter what, I’m still proud of you, but next time please just tell me.”

“Okay, mom. Sorry.”

You pressed out a smile. “It’s okay. Go get ready.”

~~~

You could feel your powers tingling beneath your skin as you paced the living room. You were anxious with the fact that Laura didn’t feel like she could tell you everything and the fact that she was growing up and moving on. Laura has been your whole world for years now and now she was growing up to take care of herself. What would you do now?

“Hey, doll,” Logan greeted. He had gotten off of work, cleaned up, and was coming over to see if he could help you with dinner. “What— Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“No,” a sob tore through your throat causing Logan to quickly move in front of you.

“What’s going on?”

“My daughter’s growing up and I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is she?”

“Working. Just got a job without telling me. Got accepted to college without telling me. All because she was worried about how I’ll react and now I’m over here proving her right!” Flames shot up your arms.

“Woah!” Logan threw his hands up. “Okay, breathe, darlin’.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, lungs feeling like they were on fire.

Logan’s hands grasped your arms, ignoring the flames as they burned him. “Yes, you can. Follow me.”

“She’s— she’s growing up— she’s been— my whole world— what do I do now?”

“Oh, doll. You’re still her mom. Always will be. And you’ve done a fantastic job in raising her. But it’s time to start focusing on yourself.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be alone… I wasn’t supposed to be alone.””

“You’re not alone, you have me. Always. But I need you to try to calm down. You’re hurtin’ yourself and I can’t handle that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know, I know. How can I make it better?”

“Just… don’t… leave…”

Logan shook his head. “Never, darlin’. You’re stuck with me. Follow me. Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Logan and you began to take deep breaths together. Yours were shaky and broken by the sobs than had now become hiccups. Logan kept his eyes locked on your eyes, wanting you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere. As your breathing calmed, so did your flames, revealing that both of your arms were burnt. The pain hit as soon as the final flame was extinguished. Your knees buckled but Logan quickly caught you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he picked you up. “I’ve got you.”

Logan carried you to the bathroom and set you on the counter. He quickly grabbed the burn cream and wraps. You cried softly as he worked carefully to take care of your injuries. Whenever a whine or whimper would slip past your lips, Logan would pause.

“You’re doing so good, darlin’,” he would say softly. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.”

You tried to take his words to heart as he continued to take care of your burns. But the insecurities still slipped in. “I hate this…” you murmured. “I hate that my emotions control my powers… that my healing is too slow… I hate being weak.”

“You are not weak.” Logan couldn’t stand it when you talked badly about yourself, ever, but especially now with his emotions rapidly growing for you.

You scoffed. “Right now, I feel pretty weak.”

Logan finished up getting the wrap fastened before gently taking your chin and forcing you to look at him. “You’re not weak. You do not get to speak badly about yourself anymore, got it? Especially when it’s lies comin’ out of your mouth.” The seriousness that was shining through Logan’s eyes, had your heart stopping for a moment. “No more lies about yourself.”

All you could muster up was a swallow and a nod. Logan’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. His thumb lightly brushed against your skin. 

“Do you need any meds?” He whispered, doing his best to keep you tethered to the moment because he could see that your energy was fading.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Alright. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’ll bring you some meds.”

“I don’t want to go to bed. I’ll stick to the couch, just… no bed, please.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you want.”

Logan carefully carried you out to the couch and handed you a blanket before rushing to get some water and medicine for you. You quickly took them when he came back.

“Stay with me,” you requested. “We can turn on a show or something… I just don’t want to be alone.” 

“Of course,” Logan replied, grabbing the remote and sitting next to you. “Here.” He offered you the remote.

You shook your head. “Just put on something, I don’t care.”

“What’s your favorite show?” You told him what it was and where to find it. Logan turned on the first episode and glanced over at you. He noticed that you hadn’t placed the blanket over you yet. “Do you, uh, not want the blanket? I just assumed since—“

“No, no, I do. My hands are just hurting.”

He reached over and laid out the blanket over you. “All you need to do is ask and I will help you.”

“I know… thank you.”

He’s lips lifted up in a slight smile. “Anytime… I, uh… Do you, um… Well…”

“Lo,” you lightly laughed. “Just spit it out.”

You had been calling him ‘Lo’ a lot more lately. He didn’t think he liked nicknames until you started using them. Now, it made his heart soar to hear you call him that.

“Dinner,” he finally said. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can just order in,” you stated. 

“I don’t mind. Besides, Laura should be home soon and she’ll need food.”

“I can help—“

“No,” Logan stood up. He gently grabbed your shoulders and maneuvered you to lay down on the couch. “Rest. I can handle a little cooking. And let me know if you need anything, doll.”

The tv show quickly went ignored as you watched Logan work in your kitchen. He cooked with such an awkward ease, if that was even something one could do. You couldn’t help but think how handsome he looked as he worked. The thought quickly took you by surprise and you shook it off. It was only because he looked like your husband… right?

Logan’s hands were trembling slightly as he felt your eyes on him. He had been hoping that you’d rest and let him embarrass himself in the kitchen in peace. Seemed like that wasn’t going to happen though. Logan tried to ignore your gaze and seem confident as he continued to work. 

Minutes passed and eventually you fell asleep due to the exhaustion of your flames and your body taking forever to heal. Logan kept working, knowing that your body needed fuel to help continue healing though he knew that it would take a week or two for your burns to disappear and leave scars behind. He turned away from the stove for a brief moment, only for the food in the pan to quickly catch on fire.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed.

You woke up as Logan tried to put out the flames, yet failed. The flames seemed to only grow bigger when his attempts. As quick as you could, you got off the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“Mom?” Laura called as she entered the apartment, immediately on alert at the smell of smoke. “Mom!”

You waved your hand, extinguishing the flames. You gasped as the amount of energy that took from you. Your knees buckled causing Laura to leap over to you and hold you up.

“Mom!” She exclaimed, taking in your full appearance. 

“Y/N!” Logan fretted as he saw how weak you had quickly gotten.

“What the hell did you do?” Laura glared at Logan.

“I—I—I was just cooking dinner and the pan caught on fire.”

“That doesn’t explain why she has bandages up her arms!”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” you tried to tell her, panting through every word. 

Your knees buckled again and Logan’s arms hurried out to help you but Laura pulled you away.

“Get out,” she ordered.

“Laura,” you rasped.

“Get out!” She repeated, yelling at the man in front of her.

“It was an accident, Laura,” Logan tried to explain. “I was just trying to—“

“I don’t fucking care! Leave! Get out!”

You could see that Logan felt guilty when his gaze met yours. You wanted to reach out and comfort him and to tell Laura that nothing was his fault, but you didn’t have the energy.

“Come on, mom,” Laura said as lifted you up and carried you down the hall to your room.

Logan watched with sad eyes until you both disappear into your room. Then he got to cleaning up the mess that he had made in your kitchen. Laura tucked you into bed, making sure that you were all settled before closing the door and going back out to the living area.

“I told you to get out,” Laura fumed.

“I’m just cleaning up the kitchen,” Logan mumbled. “Then I’ll go.”

“You’ve done enough for today. I told you not to hurt her, that includes her powers.”

“I know.” 

Logan wasn’t going to argue with Laura on this. He knew that he had caused the drain in your energy with the kitchen fire. He also knew that Laura was mostly talking about the bandages on your arms and he wasn’t going to tell her that she was the main cause of those. She didn’t need that guilt on her. He would take that for her.

“Just get out, Logan,” Laura stated again. “I can handle it.”

Logan sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth fighting her on this. He glanced down the hall, staring at the door he knew you were behind. “Please let me know if either of you need anything.”

“We won’t.”

Logan left the apartment and Laura quickly locked the door behind him.

~~~

Laura stayed at your side all night after the kitchen was cleaned. When you finally woke, she was right there with water and medicine.

“Here,” Laura offered to you. “Take it.” You didn’t argue, letting her help you sit up and take the meds. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Laura,” you replied. “I am worried about Logan though. Where is he?”

“I kicked him out.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes, I should have. Just look at your arms, mom!”

“He didn’t cause what happened to my arms. It was me… I was upset and lost control. He found me like that and helped me through it.”

“Upset? What were you upset about?”

“That you’re growing up.”

Laura’s heart dropped. “Mom, I—“

“It’s fine, kiddo. None of it’s your fault. It’s just me realizing that my daughter is no longer my little girl and I have to let you go be the wonderful woman that I know you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s really not your fault.”

“I was so mean to Logan. I kicked him out.”

“It’s okay. It was all a misunderstanding. He’ll be okay.”

Laura nodded, taking a moment to think. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything, kiddo.”

“Do you… uh… what… well, I guess, just… do you have feelings for Logan?”

That question caught you completely off guard. “I— I— like as a friend?”

“Yes and… do you like him more than that?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Laura nodded. “I’m just asking because I want you to be happy, mom, and it seems like he makes you happy.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your happiest moments since returning to 2024 had been with this new Logan. But that didn’t been you had feelings for him, right?

“He has been making me happy, yes… and he’s taking good care of me.”

“You don’t need to admit anything to me, especially right now, but just think about it. Take notice of it. Logan seems to care about you a lot and willing to do anything for you—for us.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind… Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, mom.”

next chapter >

[kimiantnelli]

　the racer roomie 　— 　AKA12 　x 　f!reader

　 　 RPF , strangers to lovers , fluff .

three times Y/N had to fake it, one that she didn’t

Y/N L/N had an embarrassing secret, she had never met her roomate. When her lease on her past apartment was broken with her ex boyfriend she was left floundering for a place to stay when her bank couldn’t find the funds to continue the rent.

In a panic she searched for people looking for roomates, it was last minute but she eventually found one; someone by the name of Andrea K. Antonelli.

‘Good enough’ was the only thought in her head when she started moving her things in the next day, with only a text from her mysterious new roomate on where her set of keys were, she began to make herself at home.

Fast forward to now, here she was sat on the couch watching Hockey replays when she hears the door unlock, her brows furrow softly as her head turns, she knew she had locked it.

And then in he walked, possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever layed her eyes on, Kimi Antonelli. She didn’t know who he was when she signed the lease as he used “Andrea”, but god was she starstruck, and by the looks of it so was he.

“Hello.. i’m Y/N, Y/N L/N, your roomate.. you must be Andrea?” The girl smiles sheepishly, extending her hand to the boy stood infront of her.

But he only stutters out an answer, in very nervous italian; “Ah- oh, sì.. sono- Andrea o Kimi.. Kimi lavora,” [Ah- oh, yes.. I’m- Andrea or kimi.. kimi works,]

not expecting Y/N to understand him. Only deepening his flustered state at the sultry tone her voice takes on when she speaks in near perfect italian.

“Beh, Kimi... è meraviglioso incontrarti finalmente..” [Well, Kimi... it's wonderful to finally meet you] She giggles under her breath, a small smirk on her face when he quickly darts to his room,

“mio Dio..” she mutters softly before padding back to her room, closing the door softly as she listens to the quiet shuffling from her newfound roomate.

TIME ONE 　— 　OVERHEARD

The next morning wasn’t as awkward as the night before; Y/N awoke to the soft rays of the sun shining through the peeks in her blinds that once provided quiet and gentle moonlight.

She could hear Kimi in the room over, speaking italian; presumably on the phone. Although this was the one time she wished she hadn’t grown up in Venice.

“Sì, mamma... è stupenda, assolutamente..” [Yes, mom... she's gorgeous, absolutely..]

A patch of blush crawled its way onto her cheeks as she sat there listening to him talk about her, knowing he was oblivious that she could hear.

“Anche il suo italiano è incredibile, penso che sia fluente..” [Her italian is incredible, i think she’s fluent..]

Y/N bites her lip at this, she was fluent, and now she could tell what he was saying under his breath and it was a nightmare.

TIME TWO 　— 　CATCHING A COLD

“cara mia..” [my dear] kimi muttered under his breath as he passed Y/N, asleep on the couch, she stirred to this, still looking asleep however, hearing everything kimi said as he shifted her on the couch to get her more comfortable.

“ti prenderai un raffreddore esposto così, tesoro... lasciando la finestra aperta...” [You'll catch a cold exposed like this, darling... leaving the window open...]

When kimi left, Y/N stirred; muttering softly under her breath gently “facendomi svenire per te, Kimi..” [making me swoon for you, Kimi..]

TIME THREE 　— 　COOKING

Y/N stares at the pan, almost zoning out as she fried the sardines; she missed home and the meals but she didn’t miss the work that came with it, curse complex recipes.

She heard the door unlock, smiling softly when Kimi’s voice rang out through the apartment; they never ate together but she would always make extra for him just incase, and he always ate them.

“Sarde in saor?” Kimi questions politely as he hovers behind the girl, smiling earnestly as she nods, focusing on the way her hands move.

“Sì.. my mama’s recipe..” She smiles back at the boy softly, turning off the stove

Kimi nods, placing his hands on Y/N’s waist to move past her, a very obvious dusting of pink of his face, complimenting his eyes, she noticed.

NO MORE FAKING 　— 　PHOTOGRAPHY

Y/N looks around the track, sighing nervously as she checks the settings on her camera, getting hired to be a media manager for Prema was not what she thought she’d ever do, but here she was.

And then she saw him, her eyes dilating softly; he didn’t see her until she was called over to take shots of him in his car.

“Bella..?” [pretty..?] Kimi mutters under breath softly; looking up at the girl, this time he could admire her features clearly in the beaming sunlight.

“Kimi?” she smiles at him, noticing the way he flushes when she says his name, gasping when he stands up and pulls her into his drivers room.

“Lavori qui, bella ragazza? Non l'ho mai saputo...” [Do you work here, pretty girl? i never knew…] kimi looks at the girl lovingly, his eyes scanning over every small feature of her face.

“Io... Kimi... io... sono un media manager... aspetta, bella ragazza?” [I... Kimi... I... I'm a media manager... wait, pretty girl?]

“sì, bella ragazza.. god you’re absolutely gorgeous, please can i kiss you, and take you out? please?” [yes, pretty girl] Kimi asks, his eyes softening like that of a puppy, a whimper escaping him when she locks her lips with his.

The kiss is passionate and needy, like they had been waiting a lifetime to finally kiss eachother, and god did it feel like they had, kimi’s hands explored every inch and curve of her body, her manicured fingers laced im his pretty chocolate brown curls.

Sounds of whimpers and whines and desperate gasps of breathe were heard as they clung onto the kiss, eventually she pulled back for air.

“Oh buon Dio... è stato... fantastico...” [Oh good God.. that was.. amazing] Y/N mutters to the boy, and all he can do is stare in admiration, his hands still gently moving down her waist softly.

“Posso portarti fuori, amore mio? stasera alle 7...?” [Can I take you out, my love? tonight at 7...?] Kimi smiles at her as he pecks her nose gently.

“Lo vorrei più di ogni altra cosa, mia cara..” [I would love that more than anything, my dear..] She smiles at the boy, before walking hand in hand out back to the pitlane with him, giggling gently at the shiny residue her gloss left on his lips.

[leapingbadger]

The Close Call

Summary: Cody is injured during a LAAT crash (TCW S7E1). While Rex and the Bad Batch continue the mission, Obi Wan races to his Commander's side.

Just tooth-rottingly sweet fluff I'm afraid.

Obi Wan strode down the hallway with purpose, ignoring the waves and salutes of those heading in the opposite direction. He could feel his pulse throbbing at his temple. He’s only been off planet a few days and disaster had already struck.

The door to the med bay opened with a whoosh. He walked quickly past the lines of identical men spread out on bunks in various stages of injury, his head whipping around but unable to find who he was looking for.

He noticed Kix sitting in the corner, his head low, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together.

“General,” he said, hopping up and saluting.

“Where is he?” Obi Wan asked, trying to keep his voice steady and neutral despite the panic threatening to claw its way out of his throat.

“In a private room, Sir, his injuries were…are quite extensive.” Kix said with a shake of his head.

Obi Wan nodded solemnly as Kix led him through a door to a small ward. He had never been back here, didn’t even know it existed until now.

To the right was a small room, barren and cold, but Obi Wan only had eyes for the man resting on the hard looking bed. His eyes were closed, his scar on his forehead somehow more pronounced in the sterile light. His right leg was braced, bandages were wrapped around his torso, his chest rising and falling steadily.

“Thank you, Kix. I imagine you need to get your rest as well.”

“Yes, Sir.” He said, turning to leave.

“Any word from Captain Rex, yet?” Obi Wan asked.

“Er, no Sir. Not yet. But they’re behind enemy lines. It might be a while before we hear from them.”

“Understood. Get some sleep. I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”

“Yes, Sir.” Kix said with a concerned look at Cody before turning and leaving Obi Wan alone.

Obi Wan looked around cautiously before pulling a privacy curtain around the bed.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now, Commander.” Obi Wan said with a smirk.

A smile spread on Cody’s face. He moved his head towards the Jedi and opened his chestnut eyes, “Kix has been flapping since they brought me in.” he said with a chuckle, “the only time he left me alone was when I pretended to be asleep.”

Obi Wan laughed, his hand caressing the scar on his Commander’s forehead, “he’s just concerned about you. As am I.” he said.

Cody smiled and pressed his cheek into Obi Wan’s hand as he gently cupped the side of his face. “I’m going to be fine, Obi Wan. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“I just happened to be in the area,” the Jedi said with a smirk. His panic was finally starting to abate. He had no memory of leaving the senate, of charging through the hanger and jumping into his starship to get to Anaxis. His time in hyperspace was overcome with holoreels in his head of his time with Cody, stollen kisses and secrets trysts and the terror that he would be too late. The fear that the gaping chasm in his chest would never heal. But Cody didn’t need to know that. All that mattered was that he was still here, still breathing.

 “Now, are you going to tell me what happened?” Obi Wan asked seriously.

Cody shrugged and winced with instant regret, “I lost a fight with a LAAT,” he said with a chuckle that turned into a cough. His hands went protectively to his abdomen, hesitating to touch his skin but wanting to somehow hold himself together.

“Your bravado is wholly unnecessary. I read the report. You were near death. If they hadn’t gotten you out when they did, I’m not sure what I would be doing right now.”

“Training a new Commander, I imagine, Sir.” The clone said with a sly smile.

Obi Wan stiffened at the joke, “You are not so easily replaced, Cody.” He said, leaning over and gently kissing the Commander’s lips. He felt a rush of warmth coursing through his body, chasing the chill that had enveloped him since he’d abruptly heard the news.

Obi Wan felt the Commander’s hand in his hair as he tried to pull away, insisting on a deeper, more intimate kiss than the Jedi had intended. He smiled as they finally parted, “well, you can’t be feeling that bad then,” he teased with a wry smile.

“Turns out all I needed to feel better was you,” Cody said with a blush.

Obi Wan knew Cody wasn’t an overtly sentimental man. To say such things out loud and not whispered into the pillow before he drifted off to sleep, just showed how scared he had been. How close to death.

Obi Wan fought the urge to kiss him again. This wasn’t the place. They were playing a game of chance as it was.

“You flatter me, Commander.” Obi Wan said.

Cody’s smile turned into a grimace as a pain contracted the muscles somewhere inside his twisted body.

“I should let you rest,” Obi Wan said, brushing the hair off his Commander’s forehead.

Cody’s arm shot out grabbing the Jedi’s hand, “no, please stay. Just a little longer…I…ugh…” he cringed again, almost doubling over in pain, “stay…”

Obi Wan felt his heart clench. He wished he could heal Cody with the force, do something to ease his pain. “Of course. Let me signal for more pain medication for you and I’ll stay until you fall asleep. Will that be alright?” he asked softly.

Cody smiled and nodded, letting out a sigh of relief, his eyebrows still knitted together in pain.

The Commander wasn’t conscious long after the medication was given. Obi Wan had pulled the privacy shield back and stood at a resolute distance as the unknown medic did his work. He waved as the clone left and crossed to the side of the bed, squatting down so his face was level with Cody’s.

“I may not be here when you wake but I’ll check on you as often as I can.”

Cody smiled sleepily, “don’t go falling in love with any other Commanders while I’m out of action,” he slurred as the medication took effect.

Obi Wan smiled, “You are the only Commander for me, Cody. In and out of uniform.” Obi Was said with a sly smile.

The Commander giggled, “Ha, you love me, General.” He slurred again, his words one long syllable.

“That I do, Cody.” Obi Wan said, softly kissing his hand and laying it on his stomach as he drifted back to sleep. “That I do.”