#ill wait to post things until the movies been out longer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

busted in busan

summary; you’re snowbound at the airport, when the only thing you want is to be homebound. your anxieties heighten as the snow rises, worried that you won’t make it in time for christmas where your fiancé and his parents expect you—picture perfect. when all flights are cancelled due to a massive storm, you have to turn to the hands of an unlikely, hard-headed hero who knows the fastest way out of busan (and into your heart) pairing; jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; a christmas detour!au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, pining, this is a total romcom, hallmark movie galore! tw–microcheating (or not however you look at it) mentions of sex, making out, profanity w/c; 10k a/n; for @suhdays holiday hallmark event! this event was totally up my lane, i couldn’t wait to post it! a huge thank u for @eerieedits for making this wonderful fic banner! this is totally unedited, i’ll to go back to it tonight but pls enjoy! for those of u who need a little more christmas charm this year, this is for u

if you loved this icy couple, please consider giving it a like n’share!⛄⛄⛄

“The Korean Air 1102 flight from Gimhae International Airport to Incheon International Airport will be delayed six hours due to the intense weather conditions. Please be on standby for any further updates.”

You’re twitching, fighting the urge to nibble on your nails because you’ve just got them done for Christmas. They’re a sleek champagne gold, because your fiancé insisted that they’re far more mature than your usual red and brown reindeer art. This is awful, and is only going to get progressively worse as the snow builds and builds. Right now the weather isn’t that bad, the snow isn’t even sticking to the ground and—oh.

Gnawing at your lip, your fingers brush over the cold window, a clear view of the landing strip you should currently be boarding. The touch is icy, and the pads of your fingers are enveloped in little rings of fog at the sudden warmth nudging the glass. Upon closer inspection and a squint of your eyes reveal that in fact, the snow is now sticking to the ground. Big, fat clumps are covering the freeway and destroying your Christmas plans.

Your fiancé will understand if you’re a little late for their Christmas Eve party, but you’re not sure if his parents will. You’ve been on livewire all week, wanting to at least spend the morning of Christmas Eve with your family back home. Knowing that your fiancé’s Christmas Eve party would run until very late, you booked a noon flight with enough time to get ready and impress his parents. Evidently, it was an ill-prepared idea.

Immediately falling into your terminal’s line, you hope that you can talk with the receptionist in hopes they could put you at ease.

“How soon will you announce our flight’s departure?” A sad smile.

“Is there any way you can put me on the next possible flight?” A shake of the head.

“Will the weather let up?” A frown.

Every bit of rejection weighs you down, and you’ve run out of questions to ask. For a receptionist, she’s not very receptive.

“C’mon lady, you’re holding up the line,” a voice tugs you from behind, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta get down to the city on Christmas.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, wanting to slap the rudeness off this man’s face. Instead of falling back in line, you move to the side to glare at him. He’s unfortunately attractive, albeit in a rugged sort-of way—nothing like your fiancé. The leather jacket that he carries tall is worn and crackly at the collar. Wavy dark hair he constantly has to hold back, a gesture that looks flirtatious and to your chagrin the receptionist is definitely recepting to him.

“Your refund should be processed in about two to four business days, Mr. Jeon,” the receptionist murmurs, the simultaneously sultry and chirpy voice making you twitch in your spot. Maybe if you drank a cup of tall, dark and handsome you’d be getting the same kind of treatment.

“Thanks,” he replies shortly, and it’s then you notice the extremely large luggage next to him. It’s the size of you, and despite the broad shoulders under the baggy jacket, he lugs it with careful force, making sure not to bump into anyone as he wheels it away from the counter.

It seems that your trainers have a mind of your own as you follow him down the terminal. He side eyes you as your feet pick up the pace to match his long legs, but he waits for you to say something first.

“Why did you ask for a refund?” you ask, frowning at him, “the flight is only delayed.”

He scoffs, “Do you see the snow? They’re just saying it’s delayed so they can hold onto your money a little longer. Besides, it’s a win-win. I get my refund sooner and some other poor sap can take the ticket and wait until five in the morning.”

“Five A.M.,” you exhale to yourself, slowing down.

It would be too late by then, far too late. Your shoulders slump, people start to bump into you without a care.

“Besides,” you hear his voice say from your stricken form, “I had a backup plan.”

That’s when your feet start to burn up, and you whip around to pump your legs, catching up with the man who’s already far down the hall. “What kind of backup plan?” you blurt, raising your voice because the crowds are starting to get noisier and deeper the further you follow him.

He hooks his lips into a confused frown, “You’re awfully nosy.”

“I’m in a pinch, my fiancé’s parents will kill me if I don’t show up to their party tonight.”

“Your fiancé’s parents… will kill you?”

“That’s an exaggeration,” you cough, immediately feeling self-conscious, “they’d kill me with their eyes. They’re really big, really pretty corporate people. They have high expectations for their future in-law.”

“Ah, and you're the country pumpkin who managed to sweep the rich guy off his feet?”

“Something like that,” you reply, rocking on your heels, “my dad was his dad’s former secretary, and we grew up together.”

The stranger with a plan stops in front of a long line. It’s so long that you’re not entirely sure where it leads to. People are piling out the door two at a time, and you can see they’re trying to get through the process as fast as possible. The window leading outside is blurry and caked in white ice. He hooks one leg over his luggage, the metal and plastic case is so high that his feet barely touch the ground. Like a kid with a flat scooter, he wheels himself through the line.

“These lines are for busses going in the direction of our flight,” he jabs a finger out the door, “if the flight got cancelled I was just going to ride one of these,” out of his pocket he pulls out two tickets, flicking it in front of your face.

“Are there any tickets left?” your eyes bug, and you immediately pull out your phone to reserve a spot.

“Nah, been booked since last month.”

It’s then that your eyes zero in on the second ticket he has in hand. Both tickets are addressed to the same name. You lower your phone in your pocket, narrowing your eyes. “Why do you have two for yourself?”

He pats his luggage as a response.

“That’s not fair!”

“It is when you buy it, sweetheart.”

“A literal human could be in that spot, wanting to go home for Christmas!”

“You’re just salty you don’t have a ticket, don’t take it out on my luggage,” he feigns a pout, rubbing the handle of the heavy container, “you’re hurting it’s feelings.”

It doesn’t take long for you and the stranger to reach the end of the line. To others in line the two of you look like two companions bickering good-naturedly, but in reality the only thing you want to do is slap that smug smile off his face.

“You want my ticket,” he states.

“I want your luggage’s ticket,” you bite back, staring petulantly at where he sits comfortably between the handle.

Unbeknownst to you, the man’s face morphs into a teasing grin upon seeing you glare a little too hard at the silver and black case. It just so happens that your eyes gravitate to the middle of the luggage, at the apex between his long legs leading up to a pair of black sweats. Despite the soft, baggy fabric you can see how the bulge of his thighs outline the thin cotton, looking large and inviting which—

Fuck. You’re engaged. Why are you checking out some stranger’s thighs? Your fiancé also has nice thighs, think about those!

“How much do you want for it?” you cough, crossing your arms and turning to the side to hide your flaming cheeks.

“Who said I was offering?”

“I’ll pay that and then some.”

“With your rich-boy’s money?”

If your hands were not digging into your elbows and you weren’t so concerned about your gold-foiled manicure, you’d deck him. Do the holidays normally make this person so snappy? He simply flips his hair, and you catch the shaved ends of his sides.

“Three-hundred,” he says easily, and if he notices you staring he doesn’t say anything, “including any extra fees for my luggage.”

“Done,” you hold out your hand for him to shake.

“I’m Jungkook, if you care,” the man named Jungkook adds wryly, practically swallowing your small hand with his larger one. You shortly reply with your name, and he merely nods, “a thank you would suffice.”

“Thanks,” and it’s then that you manage a scarily pretty smile, one that Jungkook finds both alarming and amusing. It’s a catered smile, one that you’ve trained yourself to accomplish after hours in the mirror in fear of your fiancé’s parents seeing right through you. It’s the smile you give during work when you don’t give a shit but you need to suck it up. It’s a 9/10 success rate.

“Scary,” he shivers, and then you realize he’s the 1/10.

The only bus for you two to pile on is one of the smallest. Probably half the size of a regular coach bus, but at this rate you don’t care. You’ll fly by hot air balloon if the weather wasn’t so crappy.

“Taehyung!” you startle at Jungkook’s sudden belt, and he does a big, beefy-chested bro-hug to the driver. Ah, so he has connections. You watch the two interact from your corner, pulling up your hood to stop the rapidfire snowflakes from pelting your eyes.

The driver is a classically handsome thing, dark eyes and dark fluffy hair. His paperbag pants look absolutely frigid however, and his teeth are chattering as he regards Jungkook with annoyed eyes.

“Listen, so plans have changed—”

“As always, Kook.”

“—and I need you to do me another solid. Do you have room in the compartment for my babies?”

“The answer is, and always no. That’s why you bought two tickets.”

“I know but,” he gestures to you with a jab of his thumb, “like I said, plans have changed.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung frowns, “trying to do some Christmas miracles? In this snowstorm?” Taehyung shakes his head, eyes flickering to the running bus. Most of the ticket holders are already on it. “I can save you two a three-seater, but there’s no room in the compartment. It’ll be a tight fight but—”

“It’s perfect. You’re dynamite, Tae,” Jungkook even has the audacity to reach his hands out and squish the driver’s cheeks, much to his distain.

The two of you are ushered quickly into the bus, leaving you in the very front diagonal to where Taehyung is sitting. The three seats are tiny, it probably barely fits Jungkook’s thighs with the large luggage nestled in the other two seats. The two of you suggest to put the luggage out in the aisle and take turns holding it, but Taehyung interjects that the luggage is a fire hazard.

“But not a human,” Jungkook decides, and he gestures for you to sit down in the available seat. You’re practically shoved against the window as Jungkook manages to squeeze his gargantuan luggage in the other two seats. He’s tall enough to grab the metal rungs of the bus, steeling himself in the middle of the aisle.

Taehyung doesn’t fight with that, and finally puts the bus into drive. Pulling out of the airport feels akin to leaving the eye of the storm. It’s going to be a long journey, and it makes you worry as to whether you’re going to make it on time or not.

Your favorite pastime is watching the window on a long car ride, especially when the snowflakes crystalize and melt away through the warmth of the vehicle. However, you’re irked. You thought Jungkook was a bit of a wank, a little too full of himself and far too mysterious for your own good.

Exhibit A, the luggage that’s currently threatening to wheel over and crush you against the glass. You wonder what’s so special about this luggage that Jungkook so desperately wants to protect, even so far as to buy its own seat. Sneakily, you lean over to smell the zipper. Surprisingly, it smells a little vinegary, the fumes getting you a little lightheaded within seconds. Your eyes dart to Jungkook, who’s currently engaged in conversation with Taehyung. You tilt your head and sniff again, confirming the slightly rancid smell.

It’s then you take in Jungkook’s form once more. He dresses a little schlubby, his clothes are old, his eyes are sunken in, and his luggage is filled with weird-smelling things.

Oh no. Is Jungkook a drug dealer?

Your fiancé’s parents would surely have a fit if this man gets arrested and you come up in the report as an accused accomplice. It makes sense, he would want to make sure that his goods are in his view at all times, and it explains why he so easily gave you his ticket for triple the actual price.

A giggle interrupts your thoughts. Yes, a tired, yet bubbly giggle. Jungkook’s face is pressed against his bicep, and you catch the fluttering of his eyes as he tries to keep up with Taehyung’s rambling. His grip is starting to loosen on the metal bars, and you’re worried that he might accidentally slip, or not hold tight enough in the event the car takes a sharp turn or slips on black ice.

“J-Jungkook,” it’s the first time you’re saying his name out loud, tasting it on your tongue as you regard him steadily, “why don’t we take turns sitting? I don’t mind standing for an hour while you sleep.”

He regards you with a sleepy smirk, shaking his head against the fabric of his jacket. “You’ll be flung in two seconds, besides can you even reach the handles?”

Good point, but Jungkook is far more muscular and if he does end up flying he’ll crash through the window and further hinder your commute. It’s why you choose your next words carefully, and you convince yourself it’s the only reason as to why you propose your solution.

“I’ll sit on your lap,” and since it sounds super weird coming out of your mouth, you tack on, “I’ll put your jacket over your lap as a barrier.”

He slacks, regarding you with a scrunched face. “Is the jacket supposed to make that situation any better? I’m fine standing like this.”

“This ride is going to take hours and you’re barely on your own two feet,” your point is made when the bus topples over a speed bump, and Jungkook looks awfully small as he moves to grapple the top bar with both hands, “my fiancé doesn’t get jealous, I’ve sat in plenty of friend’s laps before.”

“We’re not friends,” he blurts with a raise of his brows.

“Yes, I know that,” you’re a little insulted by the curt reply, but he still looks rather horrified that you’re proposing the following, “I don’t like it either, but I’m sitting in your seat and now I’m feeling guilty as hell.”

It’s a lot of shuffling and shifting after that. You try not to laugh as Jungkook rips off his leather jacket, folding it into a perfect square, ironing out the corners of the crinkly fabric as he gestures for you to take a seat. You try not to take note of how sturdy his thighs are, or how the muscle stretches across the seat so well that there’s no way for you to fall between the cracks.

“You’re going to sleep anyway,” you try to assure him, side eying him as he presses his forehead against the window, “it’ll be like being with a dead body.”

“Didn’t know you were into necrophilia, but whatever floats your boat,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes immediately fluttering shut.

At first it was easy, ignoring the fact that you’re sitting on top of a human. The drive seems endless however, Taehyung driving further and further into a sea of white ice. You force yourself to thread your fingers together, sitting on the very edge of his knees with your back ramrod straight. Eventually, you tire out and relax against Jungkook’s lax body. Your face is centimeters away from Jungkook’s. Long, dark lashes, and a strand of equally dark hair falls in front of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed from the blaring heater, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

Hm, for a drug dealer, he smells pretty.

Despite the weird-smelling luggage that looms over the two of you, the white long-sleeved shirt he wears is soft to the touch and smells fresh.

You huff, and shift in your seat.

“Stop,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, and you don’t have the heart to look at him.

“I’m sorry, it’s cramped,” you reply.

“I get that, but you don’t have to—hike yourself so far up here,” he sounds almost embarrassed saying it, and his hand shuffles to adjust his belt. “Literally can’t sleep because you’re making me pop a boner.”

“Why, I’m engaged!”

“God, I know. It’s like your personality trait or something,” Jungkook retorts, “just because you’re engaged doesn’t stop my body from reacting. I’m sure your fiancé has reacted like this, stop acting like a blushing virgin.”

You tense, your eyes glued to the window in front of you. How do you even make a comeback to that? Wringing your hands in your lap, you feel your palms sweat with nerves the longer it takes for you to reply. This causes the gears to run in Jungkook’s mind.

“Holy fuck, have you two not—”

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning your body around to slap him in the chest, “shut up shut upupupshutup!”

You make seething, burning eye contact with Jungkook. You expect him to have a shit-eating grin on his face, teasing you for your relationship. Instead, Jungkook is wide-eyed, mouth parted open like a confused guppy and his big bug-eyes looking stricken. He says nothing.

The road starts to get bumpier, and the drive swerves from time to time to avoid black ice. Neither of you are relaxed. Combined with the heart of the storm, your heart is currently wrung on electrical wire, pumping blood with a fervor you cannot stifle.

“I’m going to put my arms around your waist,” Jungkook murmurs softly, and you lift your arms slightly to see him lace his fingers over your belly button. “Like a seatbelt.”

You sigh, relaxing in his hold. Now it’s awkward. He feels compelled to hold you to keep you safe, even though he clearly finds it awkward you’ve already put him in this position.

Jungkook isn’t so bad, you think as you let your gaze linger on his hands. They anchor you to his lap, making sure you’re not jostling during the ride. He may have a razor sharp tongue and gets under your nerves just for the heck of it, but he’s kind of nice. Under the prickly leather jacket, there’s a softness to him you can’t help but gravitate to.

It’s dark outside, save for the speedily descending flakes and the dim lights of the highway. You’re sitting on the lap of a total stranger, yet it’s a stranger who’s holding your waist like he’s a seatbelt, a stranger who’s making you feel safe to say the words that have been haunting you for the past few months.

“I’ve tried to initiate sex,” you finally say. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me, it’s already been two years.”

Your eyes turn red with bloody horror. Your vision blurred by the insanity of what you’ve just blurted out to this surprisingly kind stranger who’s offered his seat (both times) to you.

“I didn’t mean to word vomit like that. Forget I said anything—”

“Must be his loss,” Jungkook cuts you off, and when he says it doesn’t feel impolite at all. However, Jungkook doesn’t continue on, doesn’t give you rhyme or reason, just lets you linger on his reply like a madwoman.

Maybe it’s because you’re so touch starved, maybe you’re just seeing things, but for some reason Jungkook’s fingers feel more apparent against the seam of your jacket. They tighten a fraction, drum around the metal zipper that holds the thick fabric together. Your palms feel like a fountain, and you try to ignore the burn between your legs, the liquid heat betraying the commitment that sits on your finger.

You’re engaged to be married, you chastise yourself. All eighteen carats that symbolize that bond glare at you, bright and eager to make you feel guilty. The whole reason why you’re on this cramped bus ride is to get to your soon-to-be husband. Some pretty stranger with strong hands won’t change that.

“We’re here! Finally!” Taehyung cheers, and you realize now that you’re parked into a tunnel surrounded by other buses.

Jungkook and you wait until everyone steps off the bus. The pads of Jungkook’s fingers play an unsung tune, absentmindedly drumming to a song you can’t put your mind to.

“God, you can’t just pay the extra money for someone to take care of this?” Taehyung hauls the large luggage in the aisle seat, and you feel like you’re being revealed under a curtain, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing.

You hop off his lap, scoop your backpack in your arm and scramble off the bus. The cold, winter air bites into every available pore in your body, replacing the warmth that Jungkook gave in the tiny bus. You hike the collar of your oversized turtleneck higher up your chin, prickling in shivers as you wait for Jungkook.

“I don’t remember Seoul being this, empty,” you say to yourself, frowning at the lack of humans past the bus station. You peer curiously at the dark, dark road off the terminal. There’s no flicker of light, or a skyline filled with bustling sounds and flickering head beams.

“That’s because we’re only halfway there,” Jungkook walks past you, luggage in tow.

“What?” you pull out your phone, it’s already 4PM and it’s pitch dark outside.

The snow is beating down as you two speed walk out of the hangar, reaching a nearly vacant parking lot save for a pure white minivan. You barely notice the vehicle with all the snow, blending in perfectly as wave after wave of ice beats down on it. The pops of rust by the tires, gaudy orange stripes is the only thing you can focus on as you try to make it to the car as fast as possible.

“Get in and start the car,” Jungkook practically shoves the keys in your hands, gesturing for you to take the passenger seat.

When you enter his car, you’re hit with a scent scarily identical to the one in Jungkook’s luggage. You nearly gag when you inhale too much, and your eyes flicker over to the lemon air freshener attached to the exhaust, trying its best to mask the smell. You vaguely remember all the warning stories your parents told you as a kid—never enter the white van.

Ohmygod, you’re in a white van and all of Jungkook’s drugs are in the back.

You shake your head, willing the car to start as you arch your back over the console to start it up. You’ve been around your fiancé’s parents too long, letting them fill your head with judgemental gab and crazy assumptions only rich people have about people lesser than them.

Once the car spurs to life, soft holiday music plays from a pop station. The front window of the car is absolutely covered in snow, you can’t even budge the windshield wipers to scrape the layer of ice off.

Suddenly, a blanket of ice slides off the window, swept to the concrete. You’re met with Jungkook’s toothy smile and horror-esque stare, and you have this jerk reaction to nervously laugh and jump in your seat. Your nails dig into the cheap fabric of your seat as Jungkook’s scary expression melts into a more softened one, as if happy to have gotten you to laugh in such sucky times. Jungkook continues to brush your windows, meticulously making sure no ice can cause any damage as you two go into the night.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Jungkook whips the door open, throwing the snow brush at the space between your feet.

As soon as he shuts the door, your stomachs growl simultaneously.

The two of you break into a quick laugh, giggles that overlap the twinkly holiday chimes and the packed snow crunching under Jungkook’s boots.

“After McDonalds,” Jungkook declares, setting up the GPS for a quick pitstop to the nearest fast food joint.

Ten minutes into the drive, you pull into a generic food joint, too starved to find gourmet McDonalds. You make it a point to flick your card and lean over his body to meet the cashier, telling him you’re spotting the meal. Jungkook doesn’t complain, and tells the cashier to add in a vanilla sundae for good measure.

Color yourself impressed, but you can’t help but gawk as Jungkook expertly sets up his food on the dashboard like a five-star meal, with fries in the cupholder and a burger unwrapped perfectly to catch any spills and to keep his fingers from getting greased up. For such a terrible snowstorm, he pulls out of the joint gracefully, a brief intermission in your long journey.

“So, is my fiancé’s place far from where you need to be?”

Jungkook shrugs, a stray fry hanging from his mouth. “It’s not far, not close either. I don’t mind, I like driving.”

“Do you drive around a lot?”

“Yeah, for work. It’s a little annoying that I have to spend Christmas alone, but it is what it is.”

Pausing on your speculation, you take a big bite of your burger. You were hoping that your conversation would spur on a little more detail about his drug-esque job. However, all you start to feel is the heaviness of your fast food meal, stemming from your chest and filling your grease-filled stomach.

“You’re spending Christmas alone?” you say, and you don’t mean to sound so sad saying it, but the thought of him being alone tonight makes you feel pinched with pain.

“I can practically feel your puppy-eyes,” Jungkook shakes his head, not even needing to look at you as he focuses on the road. “I’m fine, don’t you worry.”

“Do you wanna come to the party?” you offer, trying to sound as neutral as possible as you throw the suggestion on the dash.

“Not my thing,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “with my line of work, I prefer to lay low.”

Trying not to feel a hurt by the sudden (but expected) rejection, you practically eat your burger whole, eyes glaring on the road. You surmise it’s a valid excuse, drug dealers aren’t exactly one for highly-populated areas and with your fiancé’s reputation, you’re sure his parents would smell Jungkook’s reputation in a micro-minute.

The drive isn’t anything special. You’re sure if it were spring, the foliage would be pretty and the sun would be setting into melty orange hues by now. It’s all black and white, boring shades that are aggressively pelting at the van and hindering your evening.

“So, what other character traits do you have?” Jungkook cuts through your semi-brooding, as easily as one slices through butter, “other than the obvious that you’re engaged, and that you’re getting married. And oh yeah, you have a fiancé!”

You scoff at his cheesy joke, folding your arms together. “I like spending time with my family. Watching movies under a weighted blanket. Plants.”

His stare dips away from the road for a fraction, enough for you to catch that he’s rolling his eyes, “Fascinating. Not a plant person myself. I like those cute little succulents though. Had a bunch of those in college.”

“I am also a ramen connoisseur,” you say pointedly, turning up your nose.

“Ah, are you?” you smile a little when you see Jungkook’s eyes light up at the mention of food, “what’s the criteria for good ramen?”

“Deep, creamy broth. Also, the egg. Gotta look like a custard-y, eggy sunset. It’s just,” you smack your lips together, mimicking a chef’s kiss, “perfect.”

He chuckles, and goes on to tell you a story about a ramen shop he’s visited on his travels. It’s one he declares that you need to visit, one he still dreams about often. It takes a ferry and it’s a bit of a trek, but he says it’s worth it, and the eggs are as custard-y and sunset-y as you’d like.

It’s between pockets of his story and pulling yourself out of this little bubble of a van you realize: are you flirting with Jungkook?

The longer this trip goes, the more your stares linger. They linger like the snow that sticks to the ground, unable to do nothing but cling. Layer after layer of confusing feelings, building up to a blizzard that you’re unable to quell.

“So, your family’s also going to be at your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook asks, poking at yet another one of your personal facets. He’s being blatantly nosy, yet neither of you seem to mind.

“Oh, no,” you shove your hands in your pockets, “they wanted to stay back in our hometown with the extended family. Y’know, the older members can’t really travel as much as they used to.”

“Ah, so you’re splitting up your time,” Jungkook drums his hands on the wheel, eyes drooped slightly as he continues along the monotonous road, “your fiancé couldn’t make it?”

“Couldn’t,” you reply lightly, “just, y’know, work.”

“Been there, done that,” Jungkook replies, “I’m sure he missed out though. What’s your family like? Are they the type to bake cookies until 3 A.M.? Oh, or do they get wine drunk and talk shit about their annoying cousins—”

“Jungkook,” the words fly out of your mouth before you can even think, “I’m engaged.”

The weight of your words holds differently now. A whole day has passed with this man, and you’ve developed an attachment that simultaneously scares and thrills you. Not an hour goes by that you have to think to yourself that you’re taken, to the point that you can’t even tell what’s in your head and what’s being spoken out in the air.

Instead of a snippy comment, a snarky retort of, “I know, I know!” like you anticipate, Jungkook stops the car.

There’s no human trace for miles, so it doesn’t scare you when he slows down and pulls off to the side. He gears the car into park, roughly pulling the handle. He lays his arm over the steering wheel, turning his body so he can face you fully. The heat in the car suddenly feels too cloying, and you shrink in the seat as he leans in on you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, and from the looks of it, he’s genuinely hurt.

“I—Jungkook,” you plant your feet on the ground, trying to find some power in this situation, “I mean I, we—you just can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you feel like I’m trying to steal you away? Or, seduce you or something?” Jungkook is starting to talk himself into a stupor, eyes flickering from the window, to you, to behind you, and back to you. It’s almost jarring, seeing how self-conscious he starts to get without the presence of an audience. Gone is the smooth talker that you met at the terminal, willing to haggle it all for your cash. “Are you uncomfortable? Is it weird I have a crush on you?”

“Wait, you have a crush on me?”

He reels back, nearly pressing his head against the window. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deep from his lungs. “Adults still get crushes, y’know.”

“Yeah, but not to people you met eight hours ago.”

Jungkook arches a brow, “People fall for people in the most unlikely of ways.”

That singular statement hits you, hard.

Jungkook looks like he wants to get out of the van. He seems stuffy, and he unzips his coat and shoves it under his legs.

“You’re cute,” he echoes the statement like he can’t believe that in a short amount of time, he’s attached to you, “you seem to have good taste, you love family, and your personality isn’t half bad,” the last bit is meant to be teasing, a lighthearted way to end his bout of emotion, but it only makes you ache further, “And it makes me upset knowing that you have to keep convincing yourself that you’re in a relationship that isn’t as fulfilling as you hope. This whole drive, you’ve been anxious about going to his parents, worrying that you’re not going to make it on time instead of relaxing with your family. Where you actually want to be.”

“I also want to be with Jimin,” you say weakly, a half-hearted attempt to defend yourself.

You never mentioned your fiancé’s name until this point. It makes Jungkook stiffen a little, finally putting a name to the man that’s supposed to have your heart. It makes the relationship concrete, palpable.

“I’m sure you do,” Jungkook smacks his lips, evidently sealing the conversation to suffocate under the snow.

Jungkook puts the car into drive, sliding back into your current route.

“And to answer your question, Jungkook. No, you having a crush on me is not weird,” and smaller, quieter, you reply, “because it’s weird that I might have a crush on you, too.”

You know that Jungkook catches your statement, because he cranks the volume of the radio harder, effectively shutting you out.

The first thing Jungkook says when you finally reach the Park’s house is: “Wow.”

His van looks completely out of place, parked on the side as limos and Escalades drop off more and more people into the large estate. It’s pouring with elegant piano music, and the large window in the middle of their home reveals a century-old chandelier, crystals beaming and winking against the hundreds of guests that lie underneath.

The rest of the way driving was almost painfully fast. After that awkward wave of emotion, neither of you said anything. Well, you didn’t at least. Jungkook attempted to clear the air by singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio, but it only further attracted you because to your chagrin—Jungkook’s a pretty good singer.

The estate isn’t in Seoul persay, it’s a sizable plot of land that definitely comes from old money. It’s decked up like the North Pole, lit up and tiny crystal lines dotting the expanse of the rooftops. The snow certainly adds to it, and many guests are outside taking pictures of the picture-perfect holiday show. The blizzard has finally subsided, leaving a clean blanket of snow across their yard.

You scoff to yourself. What they find to be a Christmas miracle only derailed yours.

Jungkook stares at you while you send a quick text to Jimin. You tell him he needs to come fast, because you don’t want his parents to see you all sweaty and dressed like you’ve been traveling for hours.

“Oh, uh,” you finally take a look at him, and you immediately regret it because you’re getting sucked into his gaze, “I think you put my bag in the trunk?”

“Right,” he shakes his head, “follow me.”

He tilts his head down when he’s outside, as if the snow’s going to start back up and drown him. Your thumb scratches the ring on your finger as you hop out of the van, effectively popping the bubble the two of you have been sealed in for the better half of the evening. Is this going to be it? Is the last you’ll see of Jeon Jungkook?

All those thoughts evaporate when Jungkook opens the trunk.

There’s no drugs.

In fact, you don’t even know what to think. The van is absolutely filled, wall-to-wall art supplies and canvas carefully lined up like Tetris blocks to avoid damage. The floor of the van seems to receive the brunt of the messes, and you catch recent paint stains and spray cans stacked to the side. It explains the smell.

There’s some clear cases in a corner, protecting completed prints that are already framed. Your eyes cling to a vibrant hyacinth, coral and satin blue petals bunching in the middle of a black background. It’s absolutely gorgeous, if it wasn’t for all the paint lying around, you’d think it’s real.

Jungkook’s an artist.

“Holy shit, I thought you were a drug dealer,” you blurt, and you want to smack yourself in the face.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook jerks his head towards you, “did you think I was a drug dealer this whole time?”

“N-no,” you frown petulantly, letting Jungkook loop your arms through the straps of your backpack. “Maybe. You were very shady.”

He laughs, a genuine laugh. It confuses you, the way he tucks his hands in his pockets and bends his back over to look up at you through his dark lashes. It’s like nothing’s wrong, like he’s trying to erase the past eight hours and leave with no qualms. You don’t know if that comforts you or terrifies you.

“So, you were willing to let a potentially dangerous man be your travel partner for eight hours so you can make it to your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the front door, “you must really love him.”

“I do,” you say the phrase like it’s second nature. Rehearsed. Practiced.

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook pulls out his hand, and you don’t hesitate to grasp it.

Liquid heat sparks through your skin, one that tingles from where his large palm encases yours, all the way to your heart.

“Merry Christmas,” you echo, and your feet feel like lead as you back away from him.

Jungkook waits until you go inside the house, even though the valet is side eyeing him and mentally telling him to leave already. Turning your back to him is rough, like you’re without snowshoes and you’re trudging through snow.

The goodbye feels rushed. Your heart is cold and heavy. Unfortunately, by the time you realize you haven’t paid Jungkook for his bus ticket and the ride, it’s too late. Jimin has already pulled you in his awaiting arms, and Jungkook has peeled out of the driveway.

“You look awful,” Jimin coddles you, dusting the invisible dirt off your jacket. You know Jimin means well by the statement, but you can’t help but feel a little unsupported by his words. You did all you could to make it to Jimin in time for this party full of faceless, nameless people. And yet, Jimin inadvertently manages to put you down for finally making it.

The hallway is relatively empty, save for one staff member who cleans the wet linoleum floors whenever someone with snow steps in. You can easily make out where the heart of the party is, the tinkly holiday music playing from the speakers, along with all the bodies huddled by the extra large Christmas tree that is brimming with presents.

You do feel like a wet noodle, in comparison to Jimin and Namjoon’s complementary pinstripe suits. Jimin’s deep burgundy suit pops in the endless hallway of marble and light wood as he quickly leads you upstairs to a spare room for you to change. Namjoon’s more muted grey still looks stunning on him, cutting his tall figure nicely. You think it’s cute that Jimin made an effort to match with his assistant, not making him feel out of place in this big party.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Namjoon interjects softly, gesturing to the garment bag hanging on the boudoir, “I picked out your dress.”

“I’m sure whatever you bought is beautiful,” you assure softly, stepping fully into the room. It’s an extra bedroom, you’re assuming it might be yours.

“We’ll give you some time to freshen up and get ready,” Jimin squeezes your arm, a touch you can barely feel due to the puffiness of your down jacket. It’s just an awkward escape of air to you, a sssttt that you catch Namjoon hiding his smile for, “we’ll walk around a bit and bring you some food.”

“I want cupcakes,” you blurt impulsively, and the two of them laugh on their way out the door.

Once you’re finally alone, you strip yourself bare. Jacket, shirt, socks, underwear. You make quick work of taking a hot, damp towel to wash your arms and legs, scrubbing your face of any oil and dirt from the day. You wrap yourself in an indulgent fluffy robe, the plush material comforting you as you flop on the bed.

It’s been a day.

You take a five minute cat nap, the weight of the day taking its toll on you. When you finally flutter your eyes open however, you see him.

It’s not exactly him, it’s his art. It’s mounted right atop the headboard, a large blown up painting of a tiger lily. The orange and gold flecks flicker and go perfectly with the decor of the room. The piece is longing, aching for you to go back to two hours ago when you could’ve phrased your words better, balm the situation into something to salvage. This must be a sign, you think. Upon closer look, you see the signature Jeon JK etched in silver in the corner. Who knew the Parks were buying Jeon Jungkook’s work, the world is smaller than you’d originally thought.

It ignites you. You rip the zipper of the garment bag, pulling on the slinky glittery gold dress Namjoon picked out for you. It’s gorgeous, and you don’t know how he managed to find your proportions, but you figure an assistant of his caliber has access to many things. You don’t have much time, so you slap on some light makeup and swipe some highlights across your eyes. By the time Jimin returns, you’re pulling your hair up and out of your face.

Jimin walks to the bed with a pretty red velvet cupcake, “You look beautiful,” he says immediately, and you follow to sit with him at the foot of the bed.

You don’t hesitate to grab the cupcake from his tea plate, nearly shoving it in your mouth. You definitely need a rush, something to curb you over for the plans you have tonight. “Sugar sugar,” you chant like a mantra, and you don’t care that your lipgloss is smudged and crumbs cling to your cheeks.

Jimin just rubs circles onto your thigh, letting you eat and relax. He knows you’re not a fan of these kinds of parties, preferring to wallflower it, preferably at a wall closest to the buffet. His touch is comforting, and you chew slower in order to prolong the inevitable. It takes a beat for you to finish your cupcake.

“I need to talk to you,” the two of you blurt at the same time, and you point and giggle at each other like you’re still five year olds tinkering in the sandbox.

Jimin pouts, “Can I go first? Mine’s kind of important.”

“Mine’s also really important,” you don’t mean to invalidate Jimin, but you really need to get this out. “I might explode if I don’t say this now.”

The blonde scrunches his nose, obviously weak to your unusual distress, “I guess I wouldn’t want that.”

You clutch his hand, the hand that holds the plain wedding band he picked out for himself two years ago. Your eyes flicker to how your ring kisses his, “Jimin. I love you, like really love you. I can’t imagine my life without you, you’ve been my best friend since we could crawl. But as I traveled down here, I realized that even though I love you, I think I’m not in love,” you wince at how cheesy that sounds, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough, but the whole trip down here made me realize I don’t think I can commit to this.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you gasp, watching relief wash over Jimin’s features. You’re not even done with your whole spiel and he’s already unbuttoning his blouse, “this makes what I’m about to say a whole lot easier.”

“Jimin,” you trail off, squeezing his palm, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, I think I’m in love.”

Your jaw slackens slightly, seeing the sweat that lines Jimin’s slicked back hair. He must’ve been thinking about this all night, waiting for you to tell you this. Your chest aches, weighing in on all the sudden facts. “Who is it?” you ask.

Jimin shrugs, “The man who does my taxes and makes sure I sleep at least seven hours a night.”

“Namjoon,” you conclude, eyes moving to the sealed door. You think Namjoon is waiting out there right now, silently supporting you two as you go through this. Of course, Jimin’s parents would be livid if anything would tarnish his reputation. A broken engagement would be sticky to cover up, and Jimin falling for his assistant is a headline right for the books.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, despite the room being vacant he feels the need to keep his words short, “You came all this way to hear this. But I guess we’re on the same page, huh?” His soft fingers make a beeline for your ring finger, removing the diamond band, “And by the way, I love you too. Which is why we’re going to come clean in the morning and work this out with my parents, together. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to follow me all this time just because our parents did.”

“Hey, like you said, we’re in this together. Both in and out,” you chastise, pulling your engagement ring from his grasp and holding it to the light. “Can I keep this? Instead of an engagement band, it can be our best friend band. I’ll even get it re-sized so it can go on another finger.”

Jimin pulls you into his arms, crushing you. The silky material of your dress bunches and rides, but you don’t care. The two of you can’t help but be a little crybaby-ish about it, feeling much like your younger-selves when you had to pull each other out of trouble.

The two of you walk out of the bedroom hand-in-hand, and Namjoon is leaning against the banister in the hallway, a soft smile melting on his tanned skin.

“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, hugging Namjoon tightly. You’ve only known the man for a few months, but you can tell he’s taking care of Jimin and that’s enough for you.

“I… really thought you’d be more upset.” Namjoon marvels, patting your back.

Jimin interjects, “I think she’s found someone hotter than me.”

“Impossible!”

You could stay at this party, lay low until you and Jimin have to confront his parents in the morning. They suggest to get all the food they need and sneak out to the home theatre. The three of you hustle it down the stairs to another part of the house, in order for you to make your getaway and avoid Jimin’s family.

“Hey,” you stop in front of another painting, pulling the two men to a stop. Your eyes lock on a framed droopy peony, tipped with pink dye. You realize you can’t stay here, not when someone’s home alone tonight. “Namjoon, I need you to locate someone for me.”

Jungkook does not expect to see you at his front door.

You’re stunning, and look as breathless as he feels. The liquid champagne number that hugs your frame does things to him, and he’s strangely attracted to the fact that you paired this expensive dress with your snow-drenched trainers.

You showing up at the wee hours of the morning was the last thing Jungkook thought would happen. It’s nothing short of a holiday event, you look like you’ve just walked out of a gala and then ran a marathon to reach him.

He thought when he said goodbye, it would be the last time you’d cross paths. At first, he was okay with that. After all, feelings come and go, and spontaneity only works a percentage of the time. Seeing you presently however, throws all those half-hearted concedings out the window.

“Hi,” you finally say, drinking from the fact that you actually found him.

“Hey,” Jungkook breathes, “you look, beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“So, is this about you not paying me back for the ticket?” Jungkook suddenly feels guilty, having dipped out of Jimin’s manor once he saw him appear at the door. It was unrightful jealousy, and because of that he needed to drive away as fast as possible. “Because honestly, it was me messing with you. I really don’t need the money.”

“I figured, from the fact that I had to take the elevator up to the penthouse of the building.”

“So then why are you here?” Jungkook wobbles on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do with himself.

“My ex-fiancé is in love with someone else,” you lay your cards out just like that, and Jungkook’s unprepared to deal.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry—”

“Let me finish,” you cut in gently, “my ex-fiancé is in love with someone else, and that’s okay. We’ve been best friends since we were little, and we want nothing but happiness for each other. And for me? Happiness is right in front of me.”

You bite your lip, and Jungkook fights down the urge to run up and pull you into his arms. You must be so cold, running out without a jacket and rushing to his home. However, he lets you finish, and he holds himself down by clutching the door frame as casually as possible.

“I also have a big, fat crush on you,” you say boldly, “and I had to tell you as soon as I could. It took a twenty-minute phone call and some serious leverage from Jimin’s company to figure out where you lived. That receptionist is definitely not letting me use my frequent flyer miles next flight.”

“You harassed an airport receptionist just for me?” he smiles wanly, placing a hand on his chest, “I’m touched.”

“You make me excited to try new things, to be spontaneous and do things for myself,” with every statement you take a step further, and soon enough you’re in his dimly lit apartment. The plush couch in his living room looks awfully warm and comfy, and the light music that plays from his speakers is soft and soothing. “So, let’s spend the holidays together and see where this goes. And go to your art gallery tomorrow, because I did research you on the drive and found out you had to rush here because of a big show.”

“So you’re actually a stalker?” Jungkook teases, tugging you over to the couch.

He takes the lead, plopping himself on the couch first and inviting you to sit next to him. You take a detour and plant your body atop of him, and with an ‘oof’ the two of you are sinking.

“A stalker and a potential drug dealer does sound like a promising pair,” Jungkook jests, his hand palming the silky material of your ruched up ball gown.

“I’m sorry,” you pout, wrapping your fingers around the long tresses of his hair, “can you please stop bringing that up? It was judgemental of me.”

“I like when you’re judgemental,” he pokes your puppy-faced cheeks, ruddied with embarrassment. “I like picking fights with you and getting you all riled up.”

“Will you rile me up now?”

Sexy, he thinks. He figures a vixen has been hidden under you, one suppressed by a complicated engagement and many other factors he’d love to learn about in the near future. The situation at hand however, is far more pressing. Your body is finally warming up, and Jungkook tries to ignore the weight your body is causing, re-igniting an ache he felt hours ago when you two were squished against each other in the coach bus.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you declare, and you look a little frustrated that Jungkook is taking so long to process this information, “and I hope I take your breath away.”

You taste like sugar and the softness that comes with the holidays. It’s tender and oh-so comforting, and Jungkook can’t help but squeeze your hips closer as your lips brush fervently against his. The feeling is both new and old, and Jungkook figures you’ve finally uncoiled a flame that you can no longer quell.

Soon enough your kisses turn hungry, and Jungkook has to remind himself that you two have only known each other for a total of twelve hours, and he isn’t sure of what’s appropriate to jump to due to the speed of your relationship. Once he feels the first roll of your hips, a liquid heat that Jungkook can’t help but return back, he pulls away from your soft lips. Not too far, but a few centimeters apart so that Jungkook and you can catch your breath.

“We should take this slow,” he starts, trying to make a reasonable impression now that you’re a guest at his home and finally settled from their long trip. “I really, really want to get to know you. And you’re so beautiful and I really do want to have sex but—”

“Jungkook, I have not had sex with someone in two years,” you speak with a depraved tone, as if it’s been centuries since you’ve been touched. He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh, “a night full of sex sounds like the best last-minute present ever.”

You bring his hand over to your core, the shiny glassy material of your gown doing nothing to hide the glimpses of pleasure you’re minutes away from experiencing. You whine desperately at the thought, and Jungkook’s a goner.

“Well, I guess I’m about to pull a Christmas miracle,” he murmurs against your lips, ready to work his magic.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst

1K notes · View notes

angry-geese · 3 years ago

Text

To You Someday

Choso x Reader

Warnings: sfw. mention of periods, and blood, but overall its sfw. afab reader.

Summary: some very self indulgent fluff with choso comforting the reader when they're on their period. i needed a bit of fluff to balance out the fact that for the last like month ive posted nothing but smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Without fail, once a month you have this conversation. And once a month, without fail, he thinks you're dying.

He didn't quite understand the first time you explained it. You aren't dying, which is what caught him most off guard. He saw the slightest bit of blood on the sheets once—an accident really, you didn't know your period had started until a few hours after it happened—and quite literally thought you were dying. You spent a while explaining to a frantic, grieving Choso that you weren't about to die. Nobody can bleed for that long and not die. You have to tell him that you, in fact, can, and that this is something a lot of people deal with. He gets that it's normal, but seeing you in pain stresses him out.

It doesn't seem to matter how many times you tell him to not fuss over you, he always will. Worrying is in his nature. You're precious to him, he's not about to let you slip through his fingers. God forbid you try to lift something heavy, or try to do anything physically taxing. Choso insists on doing everything for you. However well meaning, his presence is a bit suffocating at times.

Having spent most of his life in a test tube, with only the faintest notion of what goes on around him, modern life was a bit of a shock. He had little notion of how the modern world works. Everything seems to happen so fast, the world is so loud and bright and busy. He’s overwhelmed. It feels like the second he gets the hang of one thing, something else comes up entirely. But even as he’s frustrated, or down on himself for not getting something, you’re always there to comfort him. You never judge him for needing help.

You like to think he’s adjusted well over the past year. With the help of you and Yuji, he’s settled into a normal(ish) life. It’s hard to consider life normal when you’re constantly dealing with curses, but there’s some sense of normalcy to it.

You were one of the first people to help him. It was a long process. Even today he’s still adjusting as the world changes around him. He owes you a debt he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to pay you back for. You tell him he doesn't owe you anything, but he still insists on paying you back. With what, he’s not certain yet.

He didn't understand his feelings for you at first. Choso cared about you deeply—he cared about Yuji—but his love for you was so much different than his love for his brother. Choso has always been affectionate. Not just to Yuji, but to you too. When you spend so much time together, it's hard to not love someone, even if just a little bit. He saw you as a friend; and then he didn't.

He found his every waking moment consumed by the thought of you. You weaved your way into every corner of his mind. From the moment he woke up, to the moment he shut his eyes, he was thinking of—or seeing things—that reminded him of you. Even in his dreams too. You made his heart race every time you talked to him, to the point he thought he was dying. Everything made his heart flutter. His brother had to explain to him that no- that's normal when you have a crush.

He loved you.

He’s never been so in-love.

He was head-over-heels, in fact. He still is. Even as you moved past the honeymoon phase of your relationship, he still was so hopelessly in love. Maybe it never ended, the two of you only grew used to being around each other. The others constantly make remarks about how they’ve never seen two people so in-love.

Yuji was the first to help him figure out his feelings. Choso had no clue what a crush was. He knew he wanted something more than friendship. He wasn't sure what. But he wanted it. Though you were less vocal with your feelings, everyone around you knew. From lingering gazes, to your eagerness to spend time with him, it was obvious. It seemed like everyone but the both of you knew.

Yuji wanted to help him plan some big reveal. He spent weeks scheming an elaborate plan. It had to be special. He wanted it to be a big day for the two of you. He wanted you to know, but he wanted his reveal to be special.

Choso’s confession was entirely accidental.

You had come back from a job injured. It wasn't anything fatal, but he had warned you not to go alone, and in turn spent the entire day worrying about you. So when he came back to find you bleeding out all over your bathroom counter, he panicked. A little blood never bothered him. Until it was your blood. He pulled you into an impulsive kiss.

And when he told you how he felt, you grinned wider than he’d ever seen. He wasn't surprised that you felt the same way, more that he was relieved. Surprise isn't the right word for it. Yuji let it slip that you felt the same way.

It’s become a nightly routine for the two of you. In the evening, while watching a movie or getting settled down for the night, he’ll have you play with his hair. He says it helps him sleep. You can believe it. He’s usually knocked out within minutes of you starting. Tonight is no different. He drags you out into the living room, sitting you down on the couch. He picked the movie- one recommended by Yuji. It was a bit longer than you usually watch, but you don't have anything planned tomorrow, so you don't mind staying up a bit late. Work can wait. You deserve a day off.

As you settle into your nightly routine, he’s by your side, insisting on helping you. His presence is a bit more overbearing than usual, but you don't think much of it. It doesn't take him long to get comfortable, settled between your legs, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Choso’s head leans back against your stomach, hands folded in his lap. He lets out a soft sigh as you comb his hair out of his face with your fingers, tucking it behind his ear. Your nails are getting long, and feel nice against his scalp. His hair is softer than it looks. It's getting long- it's past his shoulders now. Goosebumps raise along his shoulders as your fingers brush across his skin.

You’re the first person to touch him in such a way. You’re the first to hold him like he’s precious. Before you, his only physical contact was from fighting. Affection in such a way was completely foreign to him. He was touch starved, to say the least.

And then you came along and looked at him like he was the world.

He shifts so he’s nearly sitting in your lap, arms looped around your neck. His face buries in yours—his—shirt. Choso has lots of baggy, comfy clothes that you constantly steal. It smells like you, and laundry soap, and a bit of your shampoo. He likes letting you borrow them, you always return them smelling like you. As his head leans against your chest, he can hear your heartbeat. It's steady, but picks up in pace as he stretches to press a kiss to your lips. Blush dusts his cheeks, turning the tips of his ears and nose pink.

Choso runs cold naturally. Most of the time he refuses to cuddle unless you’re wrapped in blankets. You have to reassure him that you’re not as fragile as he seems to think you are. He knows. But that doesn't stop him from worrying.

Painkillers weren't exactly working. The pain is manageable, albeit coming and going in waves. Manageable is about the best things get. Choso seems to know something is up before you do. Call it a sixth sense or whatnot. Though you don't appear to be ill, you're not acting like your usual self. He doesn't remember you getting injured. You're acting like you're injured. That worries him greatly.

"You're hurt?" He asks.

“I’m just a bit tired.” You say. "It's nothing to worry about."

Slowly he untangles himself from your limbs. You try to pull him back into your lap, but let him go when he insists.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, gently pushing your shoulders back.

There’s no use arguing. He’s hellbent in his ways, especially when they come to you.

You wouldn't say you were paying attention to the movie, so much as you were present for it's duration. You flop back on the couch, your attention turned to the tv.

He tries to remember everything you normally do that helps. Heating pads, tea, fluffy blankets and extra pillows. Small creature comforts he’s never really lived with before. He didn't see a need for them until he had them, and then he found himself unable to live without them.

Choso disappears into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a cup of tea, and a heating pad. Heat helps sore muscles. As he settles back onto the couch, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist, your back against his chest. The warmth helps with your cramps a bit. The heat feels nice against your sore muscles.

His fingers trace across your skin, memorizing every inch of your body like he’s reading a book of braille, soft and loving. Choso isn't shy in how he appreciates your body. He could spend hours running his hands over your body, tracing every dip and curve of your form. He wants to know your body better than he does his own; what you like, how you feel, what you taste like. In public he has to have an arm around you, or his fingers laced with yours. Everyone has to know you’re his.

One of your hands finds his, your fingers lacing together. He holds your hand to his cheek before planting a kiss on your knuckles. Soft locks of his hair pool around his head, tickling your neck.

He’s never been so hopelessly in love.

Though your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you still fight to stay awake. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch, tucking it around you. The warmth, combined with the feeling of his arms around you, threatens to lull you to sleep.

Choso is there when you fall asleep. And he’ll be there long after you wake up.

#jjk x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #cw periods #cw blood #choso #choso fluff

198 notes · View notes

alliedbiscuit · 3 years ago

Text

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

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

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

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

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

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

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

#msr fanfic #txf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #dana scully #maggie scully #fox mulder

177 notes · View notes

mothman-misato · 3 years ago

Text

in honor of the bakuten movie trailer and also because i can't stop thinking about, here's the long overdue mashiro interacting with mothman misato post (aka eden is back on his bullshit)

it might be beneficial to go read this hc post first because it gives some background on where im starting with this..

after misato goes through his transformation and comes back to school, mashiro is super suspicious

like his extremely punctual and fairly predictable best friend doesnt come to school for a whole month and can't even name what illness he had while he was absent

he's obviously worried for his friend, that's a given, but he just has a gut feeling that something is afoot

he's right, of course, but he doesn't know that yet

after misato gets back to school, mashiro waits until he's totally sure that misato is okay and things are back to normal and then he's just persistent as hell

constant pestering

popping up out of nowhere

on the level of misato and futaba appearing in the tree when onagawa was fake injured kind of pestering/stalking

misato gets super paranoid about it because like

obviously he's hiding something

but mashiro can't know that he's right, he was always taught that people can't know that he's part moth. it will scare them away and he's already had enough trouble making friends that he doesn't need the extra hurdle to get in his way.

but then he remembers his parents

(who ive had several hcs about, but my favorite is that his mother was also mothman but his dad wasn't so like it's a genetic thing)

his father had always been so kind and loving with b him and his mother, there had been no judgement or fear or negativity at all

in fact, in all his memories, his father seemed to glow even more with love when his mother transformed than he did at any other time...

maybe

just maybe

there were people out there who would be okay with the fact that he's mothman

he would have to take a risk in telling them, but he figured that some people were worth that risk

mashiro was one of those people

after about a month of pestering, misato finally gives in and tells mashiro. mashiro doesn't believe him at first, which is to be expected, but after misato shows him the transformation in person, mashiro is so pleased that he has such a cool best friend

he's also super pleased that he's the only non-family member that's been let in on the secret, it makes him feel special

in high school, when he learns that misato's whole team knows about him, he gets a little jealous that he's no longer the only person with this knowledge

he's a little prickly about it for a while

but then he's given the link to kurikoma's blog and misato talks to him about his outings with futaba

and he can't help but be okay with others knowing

i mean,, the pictures of misato just standing and staring at various lights in the ao high dorm is so funny and it gives mashiro so much material to use to tease him

and misato sounds so so happy talking about his time with futaba

that he can't help but be happy for his friend

so he lets go of his jealousy about it pretty easily

so there we have it, i finally made this post, which ive been planning since probably june or something..

for any new fandom members who've joined while ive been kinda inactive: first of all, hehe mothman misato. second of all, this is part of a series where i make hc posts about various people interacting with mothman misato. i reference a lot of the other posts in this one so if you wanna go back and read the rest you can find that here.

#im back on my bullshit #i hope yall like it #mothman misato #misato my beloved #misato ryoya #mashiro tsukiyuki #bakuten #mothsato #bakuten hc #headcanon #edens thoughts

14 notes · View notes

cherriesradio · 4 years ago

Text

Valentines Day with Class 1-A

Monday

(Very long post, pure, tooth root, fluff)

(Divided by main groups)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, very much unedited

Dekusquad

Deku

He gently wakes you up by kissing your cheek and shaking you a bit, giggling.

“Wake up sleepyhead. I already made breakfast, your favorite.” He says, with a gentle smile as you turn over and get up for the day.

He takes you to the park. A place you two would take walks at almost every day, whenever Deku had free time from being the number one hero.

He picks flowers off the ground, pulling gently on your shirt to get your attention. When you turn around to him he puts the colorful flowers into your hair, giggling when you pull some out and put them in his.

Then the local boba shop, the one you two would save up for and get boba every week back in high school.

He laughed when you said you two should both get strawberry ones, “because, ya know, Valentines, pink, pink and valentine????”

You would share silly memories of whenever you two would invite others to go. Like when you invited the whole Bakusquad and Bakugo almost set the whole place on fire.

He would end the day by going to the very roof top he learned All Might’s secret. He knew the view wasn’t great, and that you didn’t have much sentimental value to it even though you knew, but it was similar to you.

How it was a part of changing his life for the better, how every time he walked by it he got a little bit happier, how it reminded him of a time he was weak and how much he has improved. It made him feel powerful and like he could do anything some how, and so did you.

He leans over while holding your hand and kisses you softly, a small satisfyed “hmp” coming form your throat

Asui Tsuyu

You woke her up. You wanted to make her breakfast, but also knew how much she loved making breakfast along with you.

Once you dragged her out of bed, she woke right up by you splashing down freezing water in her face. You quickly planted millions of kisses on her face, “to warm you back up! All the cold blood, and all!”

She much preferred to stay at home, but wanted to go out some place fancy for the special day.

About two days ago she reserved a spot at a restaurant that had a frog pond and a fountain, that was outside yet felt warm apart from the cold night air.

For most of the day you stayed inside, cuddling and watching movies. Most were romace comdeys that probably no ones else knew existed.

You two face times the rest of the Dekusquad, since everyone was in differing parts of Japan.

Luckily Deku and Ochako lived pretty close by, so you two figured it would be fun to go to the restaurant with them. A double date, which you had loved since the first one back in your UA days.

You two, begrudgingly, changed out of your pj’s and changed into fancy-jet, more appointments clothing.

It made you so happy seeing the large grin on her face and glow in her eyes as she saw you in your dress/ suit/ whatever fancy wear.

You two hopped out of the car, deciding to park a little far since you two hadn’t been out of the house all day, therefore didn’t get any exercise. So, why not get a few calories off from the whole pack of oreos you ate while watching Mean Girls?

Then when you are finally there, at your seats, waited for Deku and Ochako. Saying inside jokes, poking each other’s sides and holding in giggles among with the many other couples.

When they finally arrived, five minutes late because Deku had to remind his agency that he was having the day off, ordered.

You and a great time, sharing laughs and how your life’s have been lately.

When you got home around 10 o’clock, you slept the rest of the night trying to sleep.

But as normal, you made werid noises to make the otehr giggle, keeping them up, both of you being asleep by two in the morning after giving up and looking at YouTube for a hour before falling asleep.

Ochako

You had decided to spend Valentines with her parents. You hadn’t seen each other in a while and found that it would be nice, especially because of how much Ochako values family.

They are so kind when you two walk in the door with the biggest grins and with a warm, comforting arua seemingly circulating you.

They offer food and little gifts but you deny all of them, knowing they can barely afford giving gifts with how their company is still small.

You two use your hero money and go out and buy them furniture, and clothes, and food, and everything they could ever need for months.

They are so grateful and can’t believe their little Ochako grew up to be as amazing as she is, with a loving, responsible lover by her side at all times.

That night when you get back home, you share stories you and surely already told about your childhoods and how much you love your family’s, biological or not.

Iida

He wakes you up accidentally, he was doing all the paper work he had for the day in the morning so he could spend the majority of the day with you.

The speedy scratch of the pencil on his paper woke you up, whispering in a low morning voice “Tenya, dear? Your already awake?”

He turned in his office chair, a small smile on his face seeing your droopy eye lids and messy hair.

“Yes, love. I wanted to do all the work I had so I can spend time with you. Like how I did all my school work before you came to my dorm back in UA.” He smiled, you smiling right back.

“Alright, I’ll go make breakfast. Oatmeal or pancakes?” “Eh, it’s Valentine’s. Let’s go with pancakes for once.”

He put his head on your shoulder as he hugged you from behind, you flipping the pancakes messily, most landing folded in half.

When both of you were ready and had gotten out of your sleepy states, you went to walk around the city.

You brought your wallets. You visited a indoor petting zoo first. All the goats were weirdly fluffy and soft, and you brushed at the sheep’s fur in awe. He told you tons of facts that you wouldn’t ever normally learn, like how sheep actually need to have their wool taken off or else their overheat.

Then you went a few more blocks down and found a nice smaller library, with a cottage core aesthetic.

You walked in, quickly grated by the friendly old lady at the check out, and waved.

You two spent hours sitting, researching random things you never knew you needed to know.

You would occasionally tap the otehr shoulder to show them a good piece of writing, or something interesting.

After a few hours you went back how with him carrying you, both of you tired from walking all day.

You went home and spent the rest of the night watching documentaries, some that were funny and dumb but some that were smart and made you want to watch it again and again.

You went to bed, both facing each otehr with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your chest.

Todoroki

Both of you accidentally wake up. He was being the big spoon, and in his sleep he accidentally used his quirk (due to his usual nightmares) and made you just a tab (WAY) to hot. You shrieked and woke him up.

You two giggled, finding that the other was awake. He quickly used his quirk and made the hot spot feel colder, but not to cold. And you told him that everything will be alright, that his nightmares aren’t real anymore. They will never be again.

You jokingly said you should do the thing where you cook on his left side like you did most mornings in UA, and he seriously said “sure”

Of course they tasted horrible because of his sweat and you two had to have an emergency trip to the grocery and got chocolate chip muffins

And of course got distracted and got a ton of other sweets as well

You spent pretty much the whole day in, goofing around, having hour long calls with friends, watching movies, cuddling, anything else you would do on a rainy Valentines Day

And of course, you had to go on Amazon and buy way to much with endeavors credit card that you went on a adventure to steal a few weeks ago and having been saving for a special occasion

As you were in the middle of a puzzle together, the rain calmed down a bit

“Hey, hey, love?” He gently grabbed your wrist in the middle of moving a corner piece

“Yes, darling?” You said, slightly surprised

“Can you and I go out for a second? I wanna try something.” You could resist and said yes, the glow in his eyes was to much to not say yes.

He grabbed an umbrella form the garage and pulled you under as you walked out, softly smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

He brought you to the end of your driveway, righ next to the small garden you two had planted mostly out of boredom

He pulled you close and gently kissed your lips, softly. He let it last longer then his normal mere seconds long pecks, allowing it to last for what was probably half a minute, and pulled away

“Is that all we came out here for?” You titled your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow

“Yes.” He brightly smiled. “I read somewhere that kissing someone in the rain is romantic. And if it’s at night, or as it is right now late afternoon, it’s extra romantic.”

You giggle at his attempt of romance, which did work. How he got to doing it was odd, but that was how he found out about most romantic things.

Bakusquad

Bakugo

He definitely woke you up. He was ecstatic about the day, having big plans (*insert Kenny face*)

“SUKI WHAT THE HELL ITS FIVE IN THE MORNING WHY DO I NEED TO GET UP” “JUST GET UP I HAVE BIG PLANS OKAY GET UP OR ILL DRAG YOU” “JESUS”

He did drags you out, sadly (he drags real hard)

He then throws you on the couch while putting one of your favorite movies, and goes to make bacon eggs and pancakes

You eat, sitting inbetween his legs leaning onto him and watch the movie, maybe a few more until most normal people would be up

He occasionally title your head back so he can kiss your forehead, hair kisses feel werid on his lips

He gets the whole Bakusquad together, surprising everyone but they good

They all come to your house and Bakugo’s all “okay now we’re gonna go to the mall let’s go”

And he buys you literally everything

You can glance at it with the tinyest bit if interest and he’ll buy it

Then you all go for frozen yogurt and it’s good but you get a Brian freeze

And as probably the only in character thing he did all day, he made fun of you for it

Everyone goes home, thanking you two for the good Valentine’s Day

You two go to UA, right in front of the closed building (it’s a weekend, only the employees would be there)

You two remember how you first meet here, how you bumped into him while talking to a friend, and he was ready to yell at you, but he was to star struck by how beautiful you were to say a word.

He blushed

He asks you to turn around

You think it’s just something he secretly bought you back at the mall while you weren’t looking

It wasn’t

“Y/n, you can turn around now.”

You turn around back to him, and at first see how the sunset is perfectly on him, making him look better then ever

Then you notice his pose, his sweet yet needy expression, his hands… what he’s holding

“Will… will you marry me?”

You cover your mouth, quickly collapsing into a tight hug around his shoulders, kissing his cheek

“Yes, stupid! Of course, Jesus, I’ll gonna beat you up as soon as we get home! I love you so much!”

He laughs at how your words don’t match whatsoever

He kisses you passionately, glad that he asked Kirishima to secretly take a video ;)

Kirishima

He was so excited. He tried so hard not to wake you up, but the light sizzling woke you.

You woke up and walked into your kitchen. There stood Bakugo and Kirishima, Bakugo teaching Kirishima how to cook something. Bacon, maybe?

“No, shitty hair, you gotta flip it when the sizzlings a “ssss”, not a “zzzzzz” Bakugo stupidly said

“Kiri? Bakugo?” You said, rubbing your tried eyes, still in one of the large collection of stolen shirts, looking like a huge mess

“Hey dumba-“ “Mornin’, Pebble!”

Kirishima made Bakugo help him make you breakfast, like before, eggs bacon and pancakes. He added a large amount of butter to grease the pan, so they were extra good.

You smiled and waxed to Bakugo as he walked out, just barely seeing him have a small smile at how happy Kirishima and you, two of his best friends, were together

After breakfast you had one of your normal “concerts” where you scream-sing to recent songs you’ve taken a liking to, recently being more trendy songs like “driver’s license” “snowman” and some more odd ones like “Hadal Ahbek” and “good at loving you”

You then go to every dog cafe and cat cafe you can run/walk to, each of you loving the bright and happy look on the others face seeing all the cute animals

You run alariund town, seeing and talking to other couples who honestly kinda envy how helathy and great your relationship is

At late noon you two went back to your apartment

You took a shower together cause you were both sweaty and smelly from running so much and the dog smell wore off on you

He loves when you help wash his hair, wcshing it from the front and kissing his forehead every once and a while

You two get out and change, wearing a shark and dog onsie because your amazing people

You have the dinners night you could ever have

Having adventure time aka the show that you and rewtcahed a thousand time playing softly in the background, tickling each other, giggling at weither or not the neighbors could hear, prank calling the Bakusquad, trying to make a good looking cake, failing bust at least it tasted good?

Overall the best night in you could have after a dog and running filled day

Mina

She wakes you up, a happy grin on her face because she knows you planned something; because you always talk about how you want to pay her back for being so good to you

She’s clearly excited and you grin, some how bigger than her, happy to see her so excited already

You lift yourself from bed, quickly covering her face in kisses before getting up and ordering Uber eats for breakfast

You took her to her favorite shop, a small known one right on the corner of a safe street, only having a villain go through every couple of months, if at all

It was a nice shop, being something that. Colorful animal prints, pro hero merch, etc…

It somehow even played her favorite songs, which isn’t as surprising as it should be because she usually listened to normal, trendy songs

You two bought what felt like the whole store, then went back home to have a good old fashioned at home fashion show

You giggle and laugh, at some point falling on the floor because of how she tried to make you laugh.

You stayed inside and goofed around for the rest of the day, which honestly wasn’t to long.

Around eight you gently tugged in her wrist. “Yeah honeybun? What’s up?” She said, still having a large smile plastered on her face

“Come outside with me for a second, okay? And let me cover your eyes!” You grin, her quickly nodding a yes.

You walk outside of the house, stopping right in front of the fence lining your yard.

You take your hands off her eyes, smiling at her loud gasp.

All of class 1-A, together, for the first time since you graduated. Of course there had been many times you tried to get everyone together again. But with how almost all of the class was in the top 50 hero’s, having Todorki Bakugo and Deku being the top three, Mineta being the only one not in the top 100, it was difficult.

“Y/n! I can’t believe you! This is amazing!”

She turns and hugs you, quickly going back and running towards the others, giving them all giant hugs and chanting how much she missed having them all together.

The class played board and video games, tackled each other, and drew faces on whoever fell asleep for the rest of the night.

They all slept at yours, it was a lucky barrels everyone could fit.

Before you two, the last ones awake, went to bed she turned you to her and kissed you.

“Thank you. This is better then I could’ve imagined. I love you so much, and I’m so glad Im going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Denki

You both woke on your own pretty much at the same time, Deki accidentally hitting you with his forearm when he moved to sit up.

You laugh, making him make breakaways for punishment. He, knowing you were still in bed and would probably prefer it over his crappy cooking, went out and got donuts

You did like it more then his *unexperienced* cooking

You were still pretty sleepy during and after breakfast, so he gave you the usually little shook to wake you up.

He goes to work because he was unlucky enough to be stuck on duty on VALENTINES DAY

but, he still wanted fro show you how much he loved you even when he was gone, so the night before you left tons of silly love notes around the house.

As you cleaned the house because it had been drover since your last off day to, you found notes around the house

Stupid stuff like “Love, you make my knees weak arms spaghetti” and “Do you believe in love at first sight? If not I need to walk by you again”

It made you laugh and blush, then continue to your normal cleaning

Once he got home, he looked tired and annoyed

“Babe you wouldn’t believe how sucky the boss was today-“ He started, ready for one of his normal rants. You pull his face down, kissing his forehead.

You hugged him tightly, running your hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. ‘Bout this, I missed you all day. Those notes were funny, and sweet. Thank you.”

He instantly melted to you, burying his head in your neck and mumbling a quick “it’s okay, I really like it…”

His breath was hot on your skin, and… oh god he fell asleep

You carried him to the couch, took his shoes off, blanket… the shebang

You made dinner quickly, not wanting to wake him or make him anywhere he could get annoyed again

Once all of dinner was ready and just needed to cool a bit, you tapped his shoulder to wake him up. He’s such a light sleeper.

“Huh? Sparky? What… where am I? Wasn’t I… wasn’t I being all, ya know, in love with you?” He said, face squished up on a throw pillow.

You chuckle. “Yeah, you fell asleep so I put you on the couch. Dinners cooling off, so yeah.”

He smiled up at you and got up, full of energy from the good nap. He sprung up and kissed your cheek as he walk-ran to the counter, wanting to find what you made

“My favorite!” He cheered with a large smile. “You remember everything! You most love me so much.”

“I do. And you love me lots as well.” You said, sitting on the counter.

You ate dinner like that, you sitting on the counter and him standing, probably talking to you even with a mouth full.

You two decided to go out by night, since you spent the whole day at home or work.

You go to bar but everyone is extremely drunk, so figure it’s best not to

You then go to a all-times Walmart, deciding tonight was a time to be crackheads

They take some carts and ride around the parking lot, inviting Kirishima and Sero to come be weirdos

They come in like 2 seconds

“YOOOOO CARTS” “CARTS MAN”

That’s my Ted Talk

Sero

He wakes you up by hanging off the ceiling, and tapping your back

“Huh? Oh, spidey.” You laugh, hopping off the bed as he sways on his tape.

“Was that a good aka up call, sweetheart?” He said s with a cheeky grin

“Yes, stupid.” You ruffle up his hair and go to brush your teeth, now used to not eating breakfast because neither does Sero

( worry he didn’t make you stop, you just got out of the habit stemming from him)

He kissed your cheek as he went off to water your small flower garden handing on the apartment balcony.

Once he came back, you two watched a few romance comedies and tried to find out what in the world you neared to do that day.

“Maybe… oh, we havnt gonna roller shaking in a while?” (I headcanon that Sero likes roller skating lol)

“That’s sound great. Maybe invite the gang? Or would you rather it just be us?” You tutored your head, away from the characters you didn’t really care for because neither of them were that good. At least the bad people go together.

“No, going with the gang sounds great! I’ll go call them and see if they’re free!” He said, climbing out of the nest you had made around you two.

When you got there most of the group was already there, everyone else coming only minutes after you.

You have a great time exhausting yourselves, Sero pulling you around with his tape, you using your quirk to go faster, and generally goofing around.

Once you get back to your shared apartment, your both tired out and ready to cuddle while on the edge of sleep, watching random shows on Netflix.

And you did just that, Sero just barely staying awake enough to turn the tv off right before he fell asleep.

Extra’s (aka ones that a simp for that are rarer)

Aoyama

He ADORES valentine day

He goes all out, the most cliche thing you could imagine

Chocolate, overly expensive roses, cards, the whole shebang

Ojiro

It’s not the biggest thing for him

Like, he loves you everyday and wants to express that everyday, why reserve one day for doing it but being extra with it?

Kinda just takes the day off and does the normal, but the whole day sorta thing

Like, take a walk, cooking together, cuddle a bit, normal stuff

Kouda

He tries his best

He thinks that the classic “be publicly affect, give lots of gifts” kinda thing

But he doesn’t like (aka has a burning hate) for pda

They say it’s fine that he doenst want to go out, and that they can stay in all day

Fin.

#mha #bnha #mha valentines #mha x reader #deku x reader #ochako x reader #tenya x reader #bakugo x reader #todorki x reader #denki x reader #sero hanta

108 notes · View notes

julie-thefatones · 4 years ago

Text

Ghost of You || Luke x Reader || Part 2

Hello Everyone! Welcome to part 2 of my First FanFic...... If you would like to Read Part 1 click here 💜 But thank you so much to everyone who liked and read the first part... I hope you all like the second part just as much! Okaaaaayyyyyy im gonna go work on Part 3! thank you guys bye :) (Updated- Part three now posted here)

A/N: Your best friends with Julie, since the stamp was removed from the boys they are able to be seen by lifers at choice and can touch lifers at choice, but are still ghosts. You and Luke grow closer and closer starting to go from friends to more than that and everyone starts to notice, it just takes a little longer for you two to figure it out.

WordCount: 3,316

As you and Luke made your way back to the High School you guys didn't say a word, both of you not really understanding what just happened back at your spot by the lake, You were so confused, because Luke is just a friend, and he's your best friends band mate.... which made it even more complicated with the feelings you were currently feeling.... whatever happened back there felt more than just friendship, You shake your head to get that thought out of it, *no* you thought to your self *Luke is just a friend* you could only imagine what was going on in Lukes mind right now, what was he thinking, you thought, looking down at yours and Lukes hands entwined with one another's..... he probably doesn't think anything, you looked up at his face and then turned away the second you saw him start to look at you back. *What is he thinking about!* you thought to your self, you cant help but feel frustrated, Luke must have felt your frustration because you felt his hand tighten around yours "Hey, Y/N.... are you okay?" Luke asked you with real concern in his voice, You look back at him, widening your eyes "Me? oh yeah! just thinking about what I missed in algebra today... Mr. Berty is gonna be Pissed" You said with a nervous chuckle, Luke chuckled along with you " Well, just tell him an emergency came up!! like ya girly thing came" Luke said smiling at you, and you laughed "My girly thing? You mean my period?" You said nudging his shoulder with yours, teasing him, he scrunched his whole face "ahaha yeah! I just always feel so weird saying it" he said still scrunching his face, and you both laugh while simultaneously inching a little closer together as you walked.

As you approached the school, you looked at Luke and saw his eyes get bigger with excitement, confused you looked in the direction he was looking at, you looked all around, still confused and then looked back at Luke "Luke? why are you so excited right now?" you asked him with a slight chuckle, you just couldn't help but laugh with how cute his face was, how excited he was, he then looked at you "Y/N, do you see what I see?" he said with so much excitement, motioning towards the direction of the school, and you look over still not seeing anything, and looking back at Luke "No, I really don't" you responded, he then rolled his eyes, and nudged your shoulder "The gym door is open" he said excited, and the motioning over to the field where there were a bunch of student playing soccer "They are all at practice, which means!..." Luke continued, his eyes widening and motioning them back and forth from you to the door, you, still slightly confused to why he was so excited "What? we should sign up for soccer, because im not very good at it.... you might be good at it!! are you good at it?" You replied, now wondering if he was good at soccer, causing a confused look on your face, Luke rolled his eyes again "Yes I am good at it, but thats not the point! the point is!! EMPTY GYM!!!" he said so excited, he hopped forward dragging you along with him running towards the door "Luke! why is an empty gym so exciting?" you asked while running, as you approached door you out of breath and him being totally fine since he's dead, He continued to smile, and dragged you through the doors "Because Y/N! its an empty gym!" He laughed causing a slight echo "You can do all kinds of stuff... like this!" he said looking at you with a flirtatious glance and then did the most effortless body roll you ever seen anyone do ever! you majorly impressed by Luke and his skills, also notice your heart beating a million miles a minute... but you just let it slide.... it didnt mean anything, you just got done running across a field which is longer than you have ran since you had to do the pacer test in middle school. You looked at Luke and smiled and then clapped your hands slowly together "Wow I was almost impressed Patterson!" you said with sarcasm in you voice, just to tease him a little because you were very impressed, did his arms look more muscular than before? you thought to your self looking at his arms through his sleeveless Rush tee, Luke laughed cutting you off mid thought "Almost impressed? C'mon! you were so impressed by the way your mouth was hanging wide open Y/L/N" He said moving closer to you, until before you knew it he had you in his arms swinging you around, both of you laughing "Luke!!!! put me down you dork!" you laughed, he didnt listen instead he swung you over his shoulder "Not until you admit you were impressed!" he said in a teasing tone, and you knew he wouldn't let you down until you admitted it, but you also were not one to give in so easily "Never!!!" You screamed causing Luke to laugh creating the biggest smile on his face "Alright then! I guess we are going to be here for a while Y/N" Luke said confidently causing you to smile because you didnt mind the thought actually, but he doesn't have to know that "I guess we are Patterson" you replied in the most confident voice you could manage trying not to laugh, just hanging upside from his shoulder.

15 minutes or so had passed and you were still hanging from Luke shoulder in the Gym, except now you two were hiding in the corner because the gym class came back in. You looking at your phone, and whispering to Luke "Hey! there's a 5:00 showing of that movie, you still wanna go" you could feel his little bounce of excitement "Yes!" he whispered back "you even need to ask! is it just gonna be me and you or did you wanna invite the whole gang" he whispered, you sat there thinking for a minute, you would love to just have it be you and Luke but you also don't want to cause any rifts with Julie, she is your best friend after all and she has been wanting to see this movie for a while, its all she talked about for a week straight "we better invite everyone, we don't want them to think we don't care about them" you whispered, you could feel the sudden shift in Lukes mood, *was he disappointed?* you wondered to yourself "Yeah your right... ill tell the boys" he whispered, you could feel him playing with your shoe laces on your shoes, just twiddling them around in his fingers "Hey Y/N, we should sit next to each other though, ya know just because then we can make fun of it, in case it turns out bad" he whispered with a nervous type of laughter, causing you to smile, you whispered a chuckle, slapping his butt in a rhythm to your words "Of course you dork! duh" you whispered, you felt him bounce in excitement again, then rubbing your calf "Y/N, has the blood started rushing to your head yet?" he whispered to you with a teasing tone causing you to roll your eyes, the blood rushed to your head a while ago but you weren't gonna let that cause you to loose, so you slapped his butt once more "No! you might as well give up Patterson" you whispered with same kind of teasing tone, Luke now slapping your butt in a playful response "Never!" he whispered.

You and Luke had spent around 30 minutes just hiding in the gym with you slung over his shoulder, until Luke finally put you down in defeat. Now you were walking to Julies house with her now that school was over "Where were you most the day today Y/N?" Julie asked you truly confused, *oh crap* you thought to yourself, how are you going to explain your self... you don't want to admit you were hanging out with Luke all day but you also don't want to lie to your best friend, shifting your eyes from your nervous twiddling hands to your best friends confused face "Well, ya know here and there" you replied hoping that would be it and you both would move onto a different subject, Julie laughed "Okay! what are you hiding from me girl! you know you cant keep a secret from me ... now spill" she said but now with excitement and intrigue as to where you were.... *oh just tell her!* you thought to your self "Alright!!! I was hanging out with Luke" You laughed, now super nervous to your best friends response to you getting so close to her band mate, it also felt really nice to get that off your chest "Really?" Julie laughed "What did you guys do all day?" She asked, still laughing, your eyes widening with relief that she wasn't freaking out "Oh, we hung out in the gym, I was trying to win a bet, which I did!" you laughed, with a confident voice feeling proud of your self for the victory, Julie laughed with you "Oh! at 5:00 we are all gonna go see that movie you have been dying to see! you wanna come?" you asked Julie with excitement, Julie laughed "Duh!!!! im there" she said punching your arm playfully.

You and Julie got to the movies a little earlier then the rest of the gang to get the tickets and get in line for snacks, soon Flynn came in and joined you guys in line "Hey girls!!" She said with her usual Flynn excitement and flare "Hey Flynn!" Julie said with a smile and a fist bump, you smiled too "hey girl!" you said giving her a small hug "Where are the guys?" Flynn asked looking around noticing you and Julie were standing in line alone "Oh they should be here any minute" Julie said casually, her being used to them showing up late to places...

As you guys guys waited You just fiddled with a stuffed animal that was for sale sitting on one of the shelves that they have by the line area, enticing people to shop while they wait.. it was just a small stuffed animal, a panda in fact, holding a little heart that said the words I adore you you kind of smiled at it, due to how cute it was, just spacing off playing with its ears while Julie and Flynn went on about something that Nick did in Biology class due to Julies huge crush on him. You felt a brush of air sweep behind you and then "What you doing!" whispered in your ear from behind scaring the crap out of you causing you to drop the Panda, turning and punching the the thing that scared you right in the arm, wasn't long until you noticed it was Luke, who was now holding his arm "Ouch! thats the kind of welcome I get Y/N!" he said teasingly, still holding his arm "You know this is the second time you have punched me today, im starting to think you don't like me or something.... that hurts" he said now smirking with the same teasing tone, you guys locked eyes, you were trying to find the right words to say but were struggling, getting lost in his green eyes, but then found your way back as he looked down at the ground at your now dropped panda "Is this your little guy" Luke says picking the panda off the ground and messing with the ears the same way you were "Its cute!" he said smiling and now motioning it toward you moving its limbs like it was alive, you smiled and pushed the panda down in a playful way in order to see Lukes face "No, its not my panda! he is cute though" you laughed, Luke smiled at you and then looked down at the panda in his hands "So you do think he is cute? well at least I know your type now! a little odd but alright" he said still teasing you, causing you to roll your eyes "Do you want me to punch you again" you said now teasing him "Hey Y/N! Luke! can you guys stop flirting for 5 seconds so we can order our food and go, the movie is gonna start in like 10 minutes" Alex yelled over to us from the front of the snack bar with Julie and Flynn. You turn to Luke and see his face turn a certain shade of red "Dude, we are not flirting! excuse me for being social" Luke laughed while skipping forward, but grabbing your hand to come along with him, Alex rolled his eyes "Yeah, okay! whatever you say pal" Alex said sarcastically patting Luke on his shoulder, You looked around "Where is Reggie?" You asked confused to where he was, Alex nodded his head in the direction of the arcade where Reggie had his head resting on the glass of a claw machine in defeat, using his pointer finger to caress the glass next to the toy he wanted, you and Luke shared a look and laughed in reaction to him "Hey Reg! buddy! its okay, we can try again after the movie!" Luke yelled to Reggie causing Reggie to sigh and look at the toy "Ill be back for you little buddy" Reggie whispered to the toy, causing us all to burst into laughter, in that moment you noticed, just like earlier today... Luke never let go of your hand after dragging you with him, right now you both were holding hands.... your eyes widened.... *me and Luke are holding hands* you thought to your self *Doesnt mean anything! nope* you said to yourself looking down at your hands intertwined with one another, Luke must have felt your wandering eyes because in that moment he squeezed your hand tighter.

As you sat in the movie next to Luke as planned before in the gym you kept looking down at your hand which was still holding Lukes like it was so natural to him, the way your fingers were interlocked with his and how his thumb just subtly massaged the outer part of your thumb.... it felt nice... you glanced up at Lukes face as he was watching the movie, you never noticed how beautiful his smile was, like this dude had a seriously amazingly beautiful smile, you just sat there looking at him laugh at the movie.... he must had felt your stare because in that moment he looked over at you, still not dropping his smile, in fact it grew bigger than before but with a softer touch, he leaned in next your ear "What? is there something on my face?" he whispered, while taking his free hand wiping his mouth, you just chuckled "oh yeah!! there is, its a mess oh my gosh" you whispered back in a teasing tone, putting your hand on his cheek as if to wipe something, and then you looked him straight in the eyes with a smirk "Oh no, that was just your face, my bad" you whispered with the same teasing tone, as Lukes smile turned into a gasp, that was some how still a smile "Ouch, that hurt Y/L/N it really did" he whispered with a slight chuckle, you laughed in a whisper "Uh huh sure it did" you whispered while softly tapping his face, like a small slap before removing your hand from his face, in that moment he squeezed your had tighter again, but this time as if he was happy he still had your other hand..... *That doesn't mean anything, its all in good fun!* you thought to your self..... you looked over to your left at your best friend who was watching the movie, you don't know why but you felt slightly relieved she didnt really notice the interaction you and Luke just shared, until she leaned over to your ear with a handful of popcorn "What was that?" she whispered with a slight laugh, you looked at her with a shy smile, "What was what?" you whispered back, trying to avoid the topic, because you and Luke were just friends and you knew she was gonna ask If it was something more "Is there something going on between you and Luke?" she whispered, but this time in serious tone due to actual sincere curiosity "What do you mean by something going on? I mean we hang out alot" you whispered back, telling the whole truth, thats all it was after all, Julie looks at you and tilts her head with wide eyes as if she were saying really and then motioned her eyes over to yours and Lukes hands that were still tangled together, in which you looked at too and looked back in a swift movement "Oh, thats nothing, we just do that! I don't know why... we just do" you whispered, in a slightly rushed nervous tone, because you really didnt know how to explain that..... you didnt even know your self, Julie raised her eyebrows "uh huh....whatever you say girl" she whispered back, you just chuckle in response not really knowing what to say, in that same moment you see Reggie and Alex passing a note down the line of seats until it reached you and on the top it read To: Y/N and Luke... Julie scrunched her eyebrows together confused, you shrug your shoulders and lean over to Luke "Hey we got a note from Reggie and Alex?" you whispered in confusion, in which Luke looks down at the note and then over to Reggie and Alex who have their eyes plastered to the screen as if they were actually paying attention to the movie, casually eating there popcorn... Luke then looks back at the note and the up at you "What do you think they want?" Luke whispered with a slight laugh, "I don't know" you whispered with a laugh, you and Luke share a look, both quickly shrugging your shoulders and opening the note both using the only free hands you have, when you get the note open Luke reads aloud still in a whisper "So when are you two gonna get a room? because ya know there are people here, Love Alex and Reggie" Luke face then went from a smile into his grumpy Luke face, which he rarely ever makes, you both just look over at Alex and Reggie again who are now looking at you both and laughing

silently to each other which causes you to chuckle as well, Luke looks at you surprised your laughing, but then softens his face at how funny you think it is, Luke starts chuckling too and then sits back in his seat continuing to watch the movie *what were Julie, Alex, and Reggie talking about though? there's absolutely nothing going on between me and Luke.... ugh at least Flynn hasn't said anything* you thought to yourself, you sit back in your seat too, now drowning in your thoughts of confusion....... *Oh boy* you thought to yourself, you then glanced at Luke who felt your look and turned to you "I know im hot Y/N, but you did pay to see the movie... you should probably Watch it instead of me" Luke Whispered to you in a teasing tone and a smirk "Oh! I also have something for you" he whispered in such a cute soft tone, it made your stomach feel weird, *what the heck was that* you thought to yourself putting your free hand on your stomach and then you knew what it was *Butterflies*

#Julie and The Phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfic #Luke Patterson Fanfic #Luke Patterson fan fiction #Luke Patterson X Reader #Luke Patterson X Y/N #Jatp Luke #Jatp Luke Patterson #Charlie Gillespie #Marys Fanfic

80 notes · View notes

lizzy-williams · 5 years ago

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 ▼

((originally posted on my Wattpad, cinnamon_opal))

★ Warnings: Some angst, SMUT!!!

★Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmAZWKdCvmII

(Wanna Be Adored by The Stone Roses)

masterlist

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑰𝑵𝑮 you like this. Tears streaming, hair messed up from how many times you've run your hands through it, and your body quivering in dread. You were so lost. All you could think about is what you did wrong. You two stood in the kitchen for an hour now.

"What did I do, Timothée?" You sobbed, trying to wipe away tears, new ones replacing the old, "Why?"

"I'm sorry, I just...," he hesitated, "You just can't keep up with my life. I'm always away and you said it yourself, you want to see me more but you can't,"

"So that's what this is about? Tim, you've been in so many legendary movies to supply your life of luxury for at least another 30 years!" You were now angry, your emotions blinding you, "You're breaking up with your fiancé for a career that's plummeting??"

"Excuse me, plummetting? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Timothée paused and walked towards you and got so close, it frightened you as you bit the inside of your cheek, wishing you could turn back time.

"Everyone knows that your career is dropping. Your golden days are over, Tim. But you can't let go of that! Everybody knows it." You were now fighting back, raising your voice, "Maybe if you actually went on social media a little more, you could find article upon article talking about how everything is over. The roles you're booking are shit." You poked your finger at him angrily, an offended expression crossing Timothée's face.

"What the fuck do you know? I am one of the biggest names in Hollywood right now. This is what I've always wanted. You want me to throw away my dreams because you want to pump out a few babies and get married? I'm not meant for the white picket fence life that you dream of having!" his voice raised as well, his bare feet pacing across the wooden floor of the kitchen area.

You were now livid. You stomped towards the bedroom, wiping away the tears, no longer feeling like crying.

"Where are you going?" timothée asked annoyed.

"Stay there." You hissed in response, opening the door to your shared room and going right over to your bedside table and opened the top drawer and grabbed a magazine. A Hollywood gossip magazine. You had been meaning to bring this up for a few days.

You walked quickly back into the kitchen, slamming the magazine on the counter across from the one he was leaning against.

"Okay then, Mr. Hotshot, what the fuck is that?" You asked pointing to the cover of the magazine. It showed an image of Timothée with his arm around another girl - a pornstar - as they exited a limousine, the city behind them looking to be Los Angeles.

"Is that what you were doing on your 'work trip'?" You air-quoted, poison seeping from your mouth.

"Babe, you look way too much into this kinda garbage, you really believe this shit?" He asked, taking the magazine and slamming it back down.

"Then who the fuck is she, Timothée??!!" You were boiling over now, Tim seemingly doing the same thing. "WHO?" you pushed him back. You continued to push him until his back hit the counter edge.

"WE FUCKED, OKAY?" He yelled at you, pushing you gently back, "IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?"

Your world stopped. Everything felt unreal as you felt as if a million pounds was just added to your chest, feeling as if you couldn't breathe. The tears began to spill from your eyes again as your eyes met his. His were also brimming with tears. You two stood in silence, staring at each other, not even knowing what the other would say next.

"Did you really?" You finally broke the silence, your eye contact breaking as you looked at the floor.

There was a long pause, "Yes." He finally said.

You sink down on your knees, not even knowing what to say.

"It didn't mean anything, I swear-"

"Would you have ever told me?" You interrupted him, "Or would you have taken it to your grave?"

He stayed silent.

"Then why Timothée?" You were so heartbroken that your mind was going fuzzy, "Then why did you fuck a PORNSTAR??"

You couldn't help it, but you felt a wave of self-consciousness. He made love to her over you.

"Because you weren't there." He replied, guilt seeping from his words.

"Wow." Was all you could say. You stood up, brushing yourself off.

You then went back into the bedroom, grabbed a duffle bag from the closet, packing him some clothes, phone charger, toothbrush, etc. Storming back into the kitchen, you slammed down the duffle bag onto the ground.

"I want you out." Your eyes tearing up and your voice cracking, "Have fun with your porno slut, you asshole." You stood over the bag, Timothée staring at you in disbelief.

"Is this what you really want?"

"Just get the fuck out of my apartment. I'll get you the rest of your shit later. I just want you out." You were full-on sobbing at this point.

He stared at you blankly.

"Did I fucking stutter?" You cried, picking up the back and shoving to him, taking his arm, and dragging him to the door, "Get the fuck out!!" You screamed, shoving him out into the apartment complex's hallway and slamming the door behind you, your back against the door.

You sobbed harder, sinking down, your heart shattered, feeling so guilty for everything although you did nothing wrong. What the hell were you going to do now?

It was several weeks since you kicked Tim out. The tabloids were everywhere, people wanting answers and interviews with you to find out what happened. Thank god Tim still respected your privacy, because you were never going to talk about that kind of thing with the press. He had sent a friend of his to pick up his things, trying not to talk to you. When he was sober at least. At least 4 times a week, Timothée would call you laving drunk voicemails, pleading you to talk to him and allow him to explain.

Just like tonight.

You sat on the couch watching a show in your sweatpants and sweatshirt, trying to pull your mind away from the fact that the person you wanted most wasn't there with you.

Suddenly your phone rang, making you jump, reaching over to pick it up. The caller ID was as to be expected.

You pushed the green button, pressing the phone up to your ear. You were silent for a second until you spoke up.

"What do you want, Timothée?" You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear and for the phone microphone to pick up.

"Baby?" you heard shuffling on the other line, "Baby, h-hey...," he said softly. Just as you had expected. Drunk.

"Do you need something?"

"I just... wanted to call. To just hear your voice. I just... god, I love you. I'm so sorry, baby, I-" he sounded so sad.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Timothée." You sat up on your couch, "You say that you love me... just tell me that when you're sober, okay?"

"Baby, please don't go," he whined, desperate for a simple conversation.

"I have to. Call me in the morning."

"No, no, don't you dare hang up this call," he would say through his teeth, getting angry.

"Goodbye, Tim."

"NO, LISTEN, DON'T-" he was cut off from you pressing the red button that hangs up the call.

You sighed, not in the mood for the TV show that was playing anymore. You stood up, turning the TV off and walking back into your bedroom, slumping down on the bed. You pulled the covers over you as tears began to sting your eyes the more you thought about the conversation you were just having. How empty your apartment felt after he was no longer there. Fuck.

Soon enough, you fell into pain-numbing sleep, escaping from what seemed like an endless spiral of negative feelings.

Bang.

The first time you heard it, you were still in a sleep-induced state, thinking it was nothing.

BANG.

Okay, it was definitely something. You slowly sat up out of bed, your bare feet touching the carpet and patting over and out into the kitchen area, hearing the noise again.

"Open up, baby, please, come onnnnn, just open the doooor," a voice on the other side of the door. You didn't even need any hints to know who was on the outside.

"Open the fucking door, babe, I know you're in there," he raised his voice, banging on the door more. Now you had to open up the door before he woke up all your neighbors.

You turned the knob, opening the door a crack. Immediately the smell of alcohol permitted your senses, almost making you gag.

"What is it, Tim."

"Baby, please let me in, I just wanna talk, please baby, I need to talk to you,"

Jesus, he looked like a mess. His hair was messed up to all hell, bags under his eyes, a dirty sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He was pale and looked ill. That's when you spotted the open wound on his forehead. It looked like something you got when you got a bottle hit over your head. You didn't even want to know.

You sighed, thinking you were going to regret this later. You opened the door, pulling him inside.

"We're going to the bathroom," you said, his hand holding yours as you guided him to the hall, his body stumbling back and forth, trying to regain balance. You opened the bathroom door, sitting him on the counter.

A few seconds later, you got some disinfectant and a few other things to help make him look less...that. You took off his hoodie that had its fair amount of stains on it. After you had finally finished, you ordered him to take a shower to help him sober up at least a little bit.

You sat there reading a book on the bed, waiting for him to find his way out of the bathroom. You heard the bathroom door open, Tim walking out with sweatpants he had left at the apartment. You had put his other clothes in the wash.

"Hey, uh... I'm done with the shower," he said, your gaze going to him and away from the page of your book.

You nodded your head in confirmation, Tim smiling, trying to act like there wasn't anything wrong.

"You can spend the night on the couch if you want, just until you sober up." you offered.

Timothée stopped and smiled, you could have sworn you saw him tear up, "Even when people are so cruel to you, you always had kindness in your heart for them."

It astounded him that even after everything he'd done, everything he'd said, you still went out of your way to care for him.

"Words can't describe how sorry I am, I...," this time his tears were threatening to fall.

As much as you hated to admit it, you still loved him and cared for him. You still had a soft spot for him, despite the fact he had done things to you that should never be done to another human being. You could see that he was having a hard time without you. He was a mess, and you could see it when he walked in.

You closed your book and sat up off the bed, opening your arms, motioning him to embrace you. He gave a weak smile, tears finally falling as he walked over to you, taking a seat next to you on the bed as you wrapped your arms around him, his head burying itself into your neck as he began to cry, your hand rubbing his back.

His nose grazed your neck as he lifted his head to give a small kiss to your neck, the pecks continuing to progress, soon turning into passionate kisses along your throat, making you squirm. You couldn't lie, you missed moments like these. Intimate moments.

"Timothée," you started, not wanting to take advantage of his tipsy state.

"Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good," he continued, going down a little lower, nipping and sucking on your collar bone.

"Timothée, you're drunk," you pushed him back slightly, his eyes meeting yours.

"I've wanted nothing more than to come over and show you how much you meant to me. I know I fucked up, and I want nothing more than to take everything back. But without you, I'm so lost. I can't think. You're my everything," he paused, taking your hand in his, "Just please, let me show you how much I need you,"

You nodded your head slowly and quietly. His lips attached to yours, a feeling you had been longing for ever since you shoved him out the door. He began to undress you, throwing your shirt to the side, exposing your breasts making him curse under his breath, his mouth attaching to them almost immediately, swirling his tongue around them, making you release an erotic mewl, the sounds only driving him to kiss down your stomach.

Once he reached the hem of your leggings, he put his fingers underneath the waistband, pulling down both your underwear and pants in one swift movement, making you gasp as he discarded of them quickly, his long fingers grasping the inside of your thighs, gently prodding them apart, completely exposing you.

He slowly leaned his head down to where you wanted him most, his tongue giving you a rough kitten lick right on your clit, making you whine in anticipation. You loved how he knew your body so well, even better than you did.

Your hands found their way to his scalp, running your fingers through his hair, beckoning him to continue. He then took your small hands from his hair and put them in his hands as he began to go down on you, licking and sucking your pussy, making you moan out and grab his hands tighter, his thumb sub-consciously smoothing over the back of your hand, making your legs tingle and your fingers twitch.

"Fuck, Tim," you sighed, his tongue finding its way inside you, making you bite your lip.

"You taste so good, baby," he groaned, the vibrations making you moan out, your head burying itself in the back into the pillows as your eyes began to roll back.

He then detached one of his hands from yours, inserting two fingers, replacing his tongue, making you moan louder, a familiar knot beginning to form, your pussy tingling as he continued to work you, your mind going fuzzy.

"FucK - g-gonna... cum-," you gasped out in parts, Timothée now inserting his fingers quicker and quicker.

Your legs began to shake as you began to release, Timothée taking out his fingers, watching you - marveling - in the sight that he caused. Your back was arched, your hair slightly messy, lips swollen, cum gushing out of your entrance. Your mouth hung open as loud primal moans escaped your mouth, making you feel amazing.

Once you had calmed down, he moved up, pressing a loving kiss to your lips as you kissed back, your hands once again going to his hair, his body pressed up against yours. He then swung his leg over your body so he was straddling you, his head going down and sucking your neck as he lines himself up.

He pauses, looking into your eyes, "I missed you, baby, I missed you so fucking much," he mutters, beginning to insert himself, making you grab onto his arms.

When he fully inserted himself, you let out a small exhale, his lips meeting yours as be gave you time to adjust. It had been a while.

After he paused, he waited for your nod to continue, which you anxiously allowed, determined to have him make you reach nirvana. You were's disappointed, his thrusts gaining speed quickly, more erotic mewls and groans erupting from your chest, only egging him on to continue... to go faster.

"Fuck, I missed you," he breathed, "I missed this tight fuckin pussy. My tight fuckin pussy. Nobody can make me feel the way you do, baby."

His words mixed with the knot once again tightening in your stomach was almost too much, the need for a climax almost painful, as you felt him get close as well. Your core clenched, making his bite his lip, his head going to the side of your neck, going fast as he could manage, which made the feelings in your pussy all the more mind-numbing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered out, making him groan in confirmation.

"Me too baby,"

Suddenly, you felt your legs twitch, your body seizing up so much your muscles felt week, your eyes rolling back as you saw stars in your eyelids. You reached your rapture with complete and utter bliss, Timothée climaxing inside of you, knowing you were on birth control.

He helped you ride out your orgasm as well as his own. Your head was so clouded at this point, you didn't even know where to begin. He pulled out, laying down next to you, pulling you close as your body shook slightly from the leftover pleasure still coursing through your body.

"We don't have to talk about this now," he started.

"Shut up, don't ruin the moment," you snapped with a smile on your face.

"I love you," he said gently, his hands playing with your hair.

"Goodnight, Timothée."

#timothee chalamet #timothée smut #timothee chalamet smut #fanfiction #cmbyn #timothee x reader #romance #cheating #wattpad lol

520 notes · View notes

angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

Text

Work of Art (Diego Hargreeves x Reader, Kinktober

A/N: Rather than try and finish 2 more fics this week, as would be necessary to finish the original Kinktober list I posted, I played a little shuffle, and combined the two remaining ones, tossed some stuff, added new stuff. Because frankly I’m running out of steam[iness], though really, this is further than I ever expected to get on this project. Anyway...the final fic. Hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2440 Kinktober Prompts: bondage, knife-play, marking Rating: E(xplicit) Content Warnings: dom/sub (dom reader), bondage, knife-play, marking kink, pain kink, begging, teasing, praise kink, oral (both male and female receiving), biting, blood, overstimulation Cross-posted to AO3 here.

“Stop squirming so much,” you laughed, dropping the soft cotton rope to start over. “You’d think I was torturing you or something.”

“You’re sitting there, dressed like that, looking that gorgeous, and not letting me touch you,” Diego pointed out. “Find me the part that isn’t torture.”

You rolled your eyes, finally securing the last knot to keep Diego exactly where you wanted him, despite his continued wriggling.

“Unless you want actual torture, stop complaining.”

“Actual torture? You couldn’t if you tried.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow and smirked. He swallowed, instantly regretting his words.

“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I just…” you walked over to the bedroom door, pausing dramatically in the doorway to look back at him. “Left you there then?”

“Wait, no, Y/N,” he called after you, voice straining with ill-concealed desperation. “Please. I promise I’ll behave.”

You waited a few beats longer, until you heard his faint whine, pleading for you, before you returned to the bedroom, satisfied that he knew your threat was serious. When you returned, he gave you his best penitent expression, which was admittedly, just a little bit ruined by the way his eyes trailed hungrily over your figure in the lacy, nearly see-through negligee you wore when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“I could do whatever I want to you like this,” you observe off-handedly, still standing near the end of the bed, studying his bound form.

He wasn’t completely immobile, though you had originally tried to convince him to let you trap him in that way. But he was tied enough that he wouldn’t be going anywhere or able to pull his usual stunts to try to take control. And he looked so pretty: stretched out on the bed, hands bound above him with just enough slack to be able to twist and grab the thin wrought-iron rails supporting him, another thin set of ropes wrapped around his waist and secured to the underside of the bed. If you were being honest, it was a bit like the damsel tied to a railroad track in an old silent movie, but it was a look that worked for him, especially the way the blue ropes stood out against his skin.

“And you’d like that wouldn’t you,” you purred, taking a few steps closer. “You like to act tough but really, you’re just craving to be used and controlled. Isn’t that right baby?”

His cock twitched at your words and you couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the visual evidence of your effect on him. He nodded in answer to your question, even as he strained against his binds. You stopped, waiting expectantly for him to use his words. It had taken a long time to convince him to let his guard down and be vulnerable like this, and you wanted to be sure that he was both capable and willing to bring it to a stop if he needed to.

“Yes,” he finally panted. “Please, use me, do whatever you want to me. Please, Y/N.”

“You look so good like this, like a work of art. What would you do if I decided I wanted to just sit here,” you plopped yourself down on a stool in the corner and folded one leg over your knee, leaning forward so you could still see his face. “And admire the art?”

He shook his head. “No, please, please touch me, hurt me, fuck me. Do anything, just please, do something.”

“You’re so right.” You stood again, sauntering to the edge of the bed and staring down into his face, gently running your nails down the side of his face, swiping them across his lips, drawing back harshly enough that they caught when he tried to suck a thumb into his mouth.

“My pretty boy.” He shivered bodily, as much as the ropes would allow, at your words, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Do you like that? Being called pretty or being called mine.”

His face flushed and you repressed a giggle.

“Both,” he admitted shyly.

“Do you want me to keep doing it?”

“Please?”

“Of course, my pretty boy, all mine, all laid out and gorgeous for me.” A dangerous glint crossed your eyes as he tried to buck upward, a bead of pre-cum welling from your words alone.

“Maybe, I should make sure everyone knows that you’re mine. Make it clear that they can look,” you ran your fingertips down his sternum, “but they can’t touch. Would you like that?”

You suspected that by the end of the night, he would grow tired of your prompting. And yet, if he paid attention, he would see that through this, he had more control than he ever did otherwise.

“Yes, Y/N. Claim me.” There was a hint of frustration and desperation in his voice, and you decided not to push him any further before giving in.

Slowly, making sure his eyes were trained on you the whole time, not that he had dared to look away for a second so far, you straddled him, just above where the ropes crossed his mid-section, moving at a pace that made tectonic plates look like speedboats.

Settling comfortably, you leaned down, pressing your body against his, only the gauzy layer of your dress separating you. You let your breath ghost over him, teasing at the sensitive spots behind his ear and beneath his jaw. And then, sure that he wouldn’t be expecting it, you dipped your head lower and bit down harshly on the soft spot where throat met clavicle. Diego cried out, thrashing under you but unable to move, and just as importantly, not seeming like he was actually trying to get away from you. You felt the slightest hint of blood welling up and laved your tongue over the spot, soothing the worst of the sting but maintaining enough pressure to draw the blood toward the surface, ensuring a heavy, dark spot would be left behind.

“Mm,” you purred, pulling back to look at his face once more, the blissed out look on his face sending a jolt to your core. “You mark up so well for me Diego, but I don’t know if that little spot’s going to be enough.”

He gulped nervously. “Will you leave another?”

“I had a better idea, if you trust me…” you forced him to meet your gaze.

“Absolutely.” It was the firmest his voice had been since you began.

Hesitantly, you reached over to the nightstand, picking up one of the tiny precision blades that he used sometimes, though never in this way obviously. Palming it, you held it up for him to see. His eyes widened.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you, not really,” you explained, dropping any act or pretense. “Lightest touch only. Just enough to leave a mark that will heal over without a trace. Or I can put this away. It’s up to you.”

His eyes flickered back and forth from the knife to your face.

“Do it,” he said, voice gruff with desire. The muscles of your cunt clenched and fluttered at the sound, but you tried to ignore the feelings and focus on him. “...please?”

You kissed him passionately, trying to pour into it all of the thousand feelings coursing through you: how badly you wanted him, how much you loved him, how grateful you were that he trusted you like this.

You rocked backwards, letting your ass brush teasingly against his straining erection as you inspected your canvas.

“Now, my pretty boy,” you taunted, “where shall I make my mark. There are so many options…”

You trailed the flat of the little blade along the column of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob, dangerously close to the point. You traced outward, first over one side of his collarbone and then the other and then down over the taut muscles of his chest. He hissed as you turned the blade so that the needle-sharp point was against his flesh as you traced circles around his nipples with just enough pressure to create a sting. Finally, you stopped, poised just above his heart.

“Shall I write my name right here?” you asked, “label your heart and lay my claim to it.”

“It’s yours,” he countered, “already yours.”

“Well then, let’s make it official.”

You turned the blade again so that the full edge was pressed his exposed skin, biting your lip as you watched the little specks of red well up in the shape of your initials, tracing over them once, twice, thrice. He moaned louder with each pass, high and needy and threatening to overwhelm you, but he held himself perfectly still, one wrong move potentially spelling his end. You admired the endurance and discipline it required almost as much as you admired the patterns of pain you were tracing around the letters now, little hearts and swirling shapes. You followed behind the knife with open-mouthed kisses, as you wanted him to experience the sting and ache at the same time as you wanted to draw them away and spare him any suffering.

“Please,” he breathed. “Please, haven’t I been good?”

You looked up, a little startled at the question.

“Of course you’ve been good. You’ve been so good. Perfect, obedient, beautiful. You’ve been all those things Diego,” you assured him.

“Then please, I can’t take anymore. Please stop teasing me, no more games.”

You frowned. It wasn’t the safeword you had agreed to, but maybe…

“Please, don’t I deserve a reward?”

Oh.

“Of course you do baby. Do you want to cum now?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“No?” you startled.

“No. I don’t want to cum yet. Not until I taste you. I know you’re wet, I know you. I want that sweet little pussy all over my face.”

“Well who am I to refuse you whatever your heart desires?” You said, eyes sparkling with mirth before you rose up on your hands and knees, crawling over him until you were poised, hovering just out of reach of his tongue, which was already darting out to run across his lips.

His hands strained at the ropes, and you knew that if his hands were free, something you could have given him with a few flicks of the little knife if you wanted to, they would be gripping your hips with bruising strength and holding you down while he pleasured you. You closed your eyes, letting the image dance across your eyelids while you sank down.

Diego’s tongue flicked through your folds, tasting your gathered wetness. The groan that followed vibrated up through you, and it took all of your willpower, and the sharp bite of your nails into the palm of one hand, the other braced on the headboard, parallel to Diego’s own arms, not to break from that sensation alone. He sucked hard on your sensitive clit and you keened, grinding down on his face just as he moved his attention, tongue diving into you. You continued to move, hips bucking in rhythm with the thrust and flick of the wet muscle inside you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and then in a primal scream as he flicked and sucked at your clit again, alternating back and forth faster than you could keep track of. He answered each sound you made with one of his own, groans and moans and hums mixing with his clever mouth to drive you over the edge, and then again without warning as he refused to let up.

“Oh fuck!” you cried out, “Fuck, Diego, yes! You make me feel so good baby!”

As a third orgasm tore through you, you pulled from him, trembling in the aftershocks as you tried to catch your breath.

“That was so good baby,” you panted. “You always know how to make me feel so good. But now it’s your turn.”

You slowly slunk down the bed, trailing kisses and little nips along his skin until you reached your destination. Looking up to check on him, and because you knew how much he loved the sight of you making eye-contact as you sucked him off, you wrapped your lips around his dick and slowly lowered your mouth onto it, taking him as deep as you could until he bumped at the back of your throat and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. Curling your hand around the base of him, the other bracing yourself against his thigh, you set an unstable pattern, working him rapidly, twisting your fingers and bobbing your head up and down only to suddenly slow, so that you were all but still, holding him in your mouth and the length of his cock with your tongue and then resuming your motions, trying to keep him on his toes. He bucked his hips as far as the ropes would allow him, trying to match your patterns with thrusts of his own, and crying out your name over and over.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I’m so close. I’m so fucking close.”

You squeezed gently on the base of his cock at the same you hollowed out your cheeks, taking him as deep as you could and he came with a feral growl, his cum filling your mouth, hot and salty and you swallowed down as much of it as you could, fighting the urge to gag.

Slowly, you slid him out of your mouth and stood. Your own fluids were rapidly cooling on the insides of your thighs as you made your way shakily to the bathroom for some warm cloths to clean you both up.

As you returned to Diego’s side, you noticed the way he shivered and sweat. Concerned, you quickly slit the ropes, freeing him to curl in on himself.

“Diego, baby?” you asked softly, stroking the damp fabric over his skin soothingly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding hoarse and slightly out of breath. “That was just a lot…”

“Too much?”

“No. No,” he shook his head, reaching around to grab one of your hands in his. “It was perfect, I’m just…I’ll be fine.”

You bit your lip, not sure if you believed him and concerned that you’d gone too far, all in the name of showing him how amazing he was.

“How can I help?” you asked, wanting to follow his lead and speed his recovery.

“Just, hold me, please.”

“Let me finish cleaning us both up, and then I can definitely do that,” you said with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Diego.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#Kinktober: Sinful Sundays #Diego Hargreeves x reader #Diego Hargreeves Kinktober #Kinktober 2020 #smut #I hate this title but I'm tired and I can't come up with a better one #it still counts as Sinful Sunday if not every timezone has hit Monday yet #right on the dot also still counts

188 notes · View notes

fanficlibraryposts · 4 years ago

Text

MDZS/The Untamed Fic Recs

Flag Flying High by Araceil

The final lines were.... the only clear instructions given to him. It seemed as though Mo Xuan-Yu was seized with sudden ferocious clarity and drive – a single demand for the Yiling Patriarch: Whatever he was to do in revenge to the Mo Clan, he was to protect Hari above all. The child was not to be harmed.

When his life was not enough to trade for the protection of his friends in the Final Battle, Harry gave up his magic and found himself cursed. Travelling to the Cultivation World was his only chance to survive, to break this curse that drew the resentful dead into his orbit. While there though, he finds himself caught up in the life of the tormented Mo Xuan-Yu and unable to ignore the echoes of himself in the man's pitiful circumstances. But when Harry's curse draws the dead to Mo Village, the Junior cultivators of the Gusu Lan Sect are close behind, and his life takes a dramatic swing in a different direction, towed along in the wake of Mo Xuan-Yu now that he has been freed of his oppressive family, Harry finds himself in the Cloud Recesses, and involved in a whole new mystery that the 'adults' are determined to keep him away from.

*my token Harry Potter crossover fic*

Something Yet to Learn by Glitterbombshell

“Wei Wuxian,” the man grits out, and he pauses with one hand reaching for the door handle. The disciple who had come in to speak to Lan Qiren brushes past him and exits the pavilion without a backwards glance. Wei Wuxian turns back to Master Lan, one eyebrow tilting up in question. “An urgent matter has come up,” Lan Qiren says, every word sounding like it’s being forcibly dragged from him. “His Excellency requests my presence. Their current instructor is ill, I was meant to take over classes for today,” he continues, gesturing towards the tiny juniors. He swallows heavily, and the next sentence sounds bitter. Choked. “I cannot leave them unattended.” Wei Wuxian just blinks at him.

Wei Wuxian is asked (under duress) to babysit a class of tiny Lan cultivators for just a few minutes. A few minutes turns into an hour, turns into two hours, turns into an impromptu literal field trip and now there's an entire class that is weeks ahead of their curriculum, their most junior disciples have apparently imprinted on Wei Wuxian like baby birds, and Lan Qiren has no one to blame but himself.

*Baby junior Lans*

if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane

Rather than mourning a future that had not happened yet, he would rather work with all his might to prevent it from happening. [...] His aim was to fortify his home and his family so that they would never again be left vulnerable to greedy cultivators aiming for his genius. For that, he needed help. He may be a genius, but he was not the cunning manipulative man they thought him to be. No, that was not him. He knew who was, though.

(Or: Wei Wuxian uses a powerful array to go back in time and builds a secret squad to prevent the misfortunes of the future.)

Themes and Variations in F# Major by defractum (nyargles)

The thing with musical prodigies is that they're soloists, and soloists play alone. He doesn't want to play alone anymore.

"A summer guest lecture series? Oh, very nice. I wish I could sit in on that."

"Do you also play the piano?"

"Not even a little bit," says Wei Ying cheerfully. "But I'm sure you'd have a lot of thoughts on musicality that would be relevant regardless."

"Oh," says Lan Zhan. He seems to be searching for something else to say. "I believe it is oversubscribed," he says finally.

"As it should be," says Wei Ying, and does not tell him that he has all of Lan Zhan's albums downloaded onto his phone, listened to over and over when he's on a train, a plane, waiting for a taxi, has followed his career since he overheard half a Mendelssohn when they were fifteen.

补救; to remedy, to do something to correct or improve something that is wrong by ravenditefairylights

Wei Wuxian has missed the sword. He has missed the steady weight of Suibian in his vicinity, has missed being sure of himself without needing to defend his ability in front of a world that stands opposite of him as jury, judge and executioner. Wei Wuxian has risen and fallen and then gotten up every time, fallen deeper still until there was no way for him to get back up. Wei Wuxian has died and he has come back thirteen years too late and the world has moved on without him.

Back to the start—it’s a good place for the beginning.

or the one where Wei Wuxian heals, realizes there are people who love him and people he loves and goes back home

*Some nice post canon fluff and badass WWX*

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller

Wei Wuxian's spirit lingers.

*Chef’s kiss*

Cradle by Dragonesque

After barely surviving the assassination attempt at QiongQi Path, Wei WuXian and the Wen Sect remnants are left to figure out how to protect themselves and their new lives. Meanwhile, the Jiang siblings and an unharmed Jin ZiXuan try to figure out who's bright idea was that stupid ambush. In Gusu, Lan Wangji panics at the idea of Wei WuXian's near death and tries to figure out whether to insist to stay by the Yiling Patriarch's side or hang back in the Cloud Recesses.

And Wei WuXian struggles with the idea of whether becoming a teacher, teaching demonic cultivation and setting up his own sect might not be a bad idea after all...

Just say yes by edenwolfie

Lan Qiren had never had a student he couldn’t improve, and Wei Wuxian would not be the exception, especially not now that his nephew was in love with the troublemaker. He would not allow history to repeat itself.

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami, Winterstar1412

"Zewu-Jun. You once told me about a house surrounded by gentians, where you visited once a month, and how Lan Zhan still waited there, even when the door no longer opened."

Xichen feels light-headed. He feels shocked, and angry. He has never told anyone such a thing, but Lan Zhan is giving Xichen a look of utter betrayal.

"You told him?" Lan Zhan whispers. "When?"

Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's hand. "About twenty years from now."

Wei Wuxian starts again from the beginning.

*part one of a brilliant and lengthy series*

SanRen by Kyogre

Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator.

Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war.

However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.

*A more proactive Jiang family and an oblivious Wei Wuxian ft. pining Lan Wangji*

New moodboard here !

Disclaimer: The fanfiction above were not written by me for I am not nearly as creative. However, I am an avid reader and movie buff so these are some of my favorite fanfiction within the fandom. I politely ask that you read the tags attached the fanfiction beforehand so that you know what you are getting yourself into, there may be crossovers. If you don’t like it then don’t read it. In addition, I ask that there be no bashing, the fics are based on my preferences and what I like. Lastly, if there are any specific genre or fandom of fics you want me to get into let me know through my ask box.

29 notes · View notes

myaekingheart · 3 years ago

Text

20 [Fanfic Writer] Questions Game

Thank you so much for tagging me, @lemony-snickers! This is tons of fun, I love answering these kinds of big questionnaires 😂💕 Also putting mine under a cut because there’s a lot of questions and I like to ramble.

Also gonna go ahead and just tag whoever wants to do this! 😅💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

As of August 27, 2021, I have a total of 77 works on my AO3!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Funny enough, I was just looking at this, specifically, earlier today and kind of laughing about it. Right now, my total word count across all my works is 1,148,941 😬

3. How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Apparently 12, but some of them I don’t really consider “big” in my fandom repertoire. Naruto is my greatest fandom with a total of 60 fics so far, followed by The Chronicles of Narnia and Rise of the Guardians. The rest are ones I either did crossover fics with or just did one-off little pieces with--The Incredibles, Tangled, Brave, How to Train Your Dragon, Arthurian Mythology, Disney Princesses, Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms, Back to the Future, and Frozen.

4. What are your Top Five fics by kudos?

The Scarecrow and The Bell (Naruto) - 470 kudos The Day Kakashi’s Mask Slipped (Naruto) - 139 kudos Sunflowers (Naruto) - 92 kudos Sakumo the House Husband (Naruto) - 81 kudos Someone to Lean On (Naruto) - 67 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments, because I like to acknowledge when people respond to my work. I cherish comments like nobody’s business, especially when they’re kind and reactionary. I just really love seeing/hearing what people think of the way a story is progressing, or what they thought of a one-shot. Comments keep me going especially when it comes to longfic so I want to be able to let readers know that I do in fact see their comments, that I’m acknowledging what they’re saying, and that I appreciate them. Plus, it can be kind of fun to tease upcoming events in a fic through responses to people’s comments, too. Because I’m mean.

6. What fic have you written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Hothouse (Rise of the Guardians/The Incredibles; Jack Frost x Violet Parr; American Horror Story AU). This was the first multi-chaptered fic I ever wrote to completion and I honestly cringe when I remember it exists both because it’s so poorly organized (and full of nasty plot holes) and because I just went ham on the gore factor. It definitely has a really bittersweet and heartbreaking ending to it, too.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I think I’ll definitely have to say Temptation. The story itself was kind of a ride, and it’s only the first installment in a series, but it follows the plot of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe but remixed due to the presence of an original character, but the ending is still roughly the same as the original: they defeat the evil, the Pevensies are all crowned kings and queens, happy days. Reading the last few paragraphs of the last chapter honestly still gets me all up in my feelings.

8. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I used to be more of a crossover writer due to one of my main ships being a crossover ship. They weren’t super crazy, though, because they were both CGI-animated films. The craziest crossover I’ve ever written is an in-progress/unfinished multichapter piece, Kakashi, Enchanted, that sees our favorite Copy Ninja get kamui’d into the Disney princess dimension and has to help the likes of Snow White, Cinderella, and Rapunzel on his journey to find a way back to his own world. It’s a super weird premise but definitely one of my more lighthearted works and fun to revisit when I need to decompress.

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t think I’ve ever received hate so much as I’ve received criticism. The closest I ever got to hate on a fic, I think, was someone left an overly personal and mentally disturbed comment on a chapter of my main fic that made me convinced they needed to seek therapy and deal with their own personal issues rather than take it out on a fanfic about animated ninjas.

10. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Maybe 👀 I’m super vanilla when it comes to smut, though. I think the wildest thing I’ve ever written in smut is breeding kink.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, and I hope I never will.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet! I had someone ask to translate a one-shot of mine in Russian but I never got a response back when I laid out my terms and conditions.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not! I used to do paragraph-style roleplay which was kind of like cowriting fanfiction but writing is so personal and sacred to me that I don’t know if I could ever actually cowrite a fic with someone. I like brainstorming with other people, but writing for me is more of a deeply personal and independent endeavour.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh god, this is a tricky question because it depends on fandom. I absolutely love New Dream (Rapunzel x Eugene, Tangled) and have for the past ten years, and my love for them as only grown since watching Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure. I don’t write or even really read a ton of fanfiction for them, though. I’m also still highly dedicated to my favorite crossover crackship, Frostfield (Jack Frost x Violet Parr, Rise of the Guardians/The Incredibles) and to this day, if you search for that ship on AO3, I am the sole provider of every single fic about them so far. I’m not as active with them as I used to be, but they got me through some really rough times back in the day and still mean so much to me. A lot of my favorite ships across fandoms, though, are honestly canon x OC ships of mine because I am a self-indulgent bitch who needs to project. So Peter Pevensie x Eilonwy (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Kakashi Hatake x Rei Natsuki (Naruto) are really important to me and I’ve poured so much of myself specifically into their stories. I think it’s safe to say Kakashi and Rei is my all-time favorite ship across all fandoms, though, just because of how much their story means to me. The Scarecrow and The Bell is my magnum opus, my pride and joy, and I’m sure it will be my biggest fandom footprint of my entire life. I’ve dedicated the past three years to this story and these characters and I intend to continue doing it until it no longer brings me joy (which I hope it always will). There’s just so much I could say about this story and Kakashi and Rei’s relationship but I don’t think we have enough time or space in this post for that 😅 Just know that they mean the world to me and I will always hold them in the highest regard as a beautifully messy, flawed, passionate, soulmate-y ship that I love with all of my heart 🥺

EDIT: I also feel obligated to tack on some of my absolute favorite Naruto ships because I may not have written for all of them (yet) but they still make me unbelievably happy or I find them really compelling and enjoy the idea of exploring them:

Naruhina is precious happy sunshine and The Last honestly felt like a wonderful Disney princess movie to me, it was so cute and the romance was so on-point, Naruhina just makes me so incredibly happy and I love them with all my heart.

MinaKushi also gets me all up in my feels and I adore them with every fiber of my being. Their romance also gave me Disney princess movie vibes which I love, their story is just so damn sweet as is their character dynamic and I am still so heartbroken that they never got to be a happy family with Naruto because you know what? It’s what they deserved!

SasuSaku is so compelling to me and I really feel like we were cheated out of seeing their relationship develop and evolve postwar in the same way The Last did for Naruhina. They’re my favorite angst ship and while I don’t think they were written that well in canon, I love the possibility and potential of them together and am excited to explore them more in-depth in my own writing.

NejiTen is just too cute, I really love the way Neji and Tenten’s personalities compliment each other? I don’t have much else to say about them except that I really love them together and think they have so much untapped potential that I also can’t wait to explore in more depth in my own writing.

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Paper Hearts and Impromptu Bookmarks, probably. I love the premise of this story a lot and I have so many interesting ideas for it but at the same time, it also feels kind of cheap and cringey to me, in a way? It takes all of these ideas I probably would have had if I had been into Naruto when I was a kid and kind of compiles them all into one big story. Kakashi and Aiko’s relationship and story is still really important to me and I want to continue it someday but for right now, I just haven’t had the motivation or desire to write any more of it. I think I’m just so overwhelmingly preoccupied with writing Kakashi and Rei’s story that I can’t imagine writing any other Kakashi x OC fics right now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I want to say that I’m really good at capturing complex emotion? I don’t know, I write a lot of angst and mental upheaval in my fics which can be really difficult to try and capture, but I think I do a decent enough job of it? And just writing difficult subjects in general. I think it’s really important to address difficult topics such as mental illness and relationship difficulties and everything but I also want to try and write those topics in a way that is both authentic to the experience while also still tasteful. I don’t want to drive readers away with heavy subject matter but rather present a situation that feels real and authentic while also still being digestible. I may not be doing a very good job of that during the current arc of my fic that I’m working on, but I’m trying haha

EDIT 2: I also want to add onto this to say that I’m really proud of my organizational techniques for writing longfic. It’s not necessarily a strength in terms of the prose itself but it’s something that’s taken me years to really get a grasp on and find a method that works perfectly for me and so far, it’s been extremely helpful and beneficial to me. I don’t know where I would be now as a writer without these essential tools in my pocket.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel like I do a really bad job of the “show, don’t tell” thing. It can be really hard to balance descriptive prose with straightforward writing that moves things along. I don’t want to dwell on mental dialogue to the point where you lose track of what’s going on, but I also don’t want my stuff to read like “Character A did xyz. Character B said abc. They went to 123″, whatever. Another thing I struggle with is sentence variation. I always fall into the same patterns when I’m writing prose and I get really self-conscious about it because I don’t want to sound repetitive or disrupt the flow of the writing. One of my favorite things about prose is focusing on the cadence of the words, I think it’s one of the most beautiful things about writing in general, but it can just be really difficult to get a good grip on that. I’ve been told in the past that I apparently have a really good grasp/control of the language or whatever but sometimes I just find that really hard to believe when I look at my work with such scrutiny. I think one of my biggest pet peeves with my own writing, too, is feeling like I start all of my sentences the same five different ways. I’ll read other people’s works and they’ll write sentences like “Glass-blue water lapped against the shores of a deserted beach as a lonely woman gazed off into the distance” and I can just never figure out how to realistically write sentences that start like that in the context of my prose and it drives me fucking crazy, like I’m definitely jealous 😅

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve never really thought much about it before, but I think there are pros and cons! For bilingual/multilingual readers, I think it can be a really enriching reading experience because they know what’s being said in both languages. For people who only know one language, however, unless a translation is provided, I feel like it can be really alienating. I think the best use of that for both worlds is using it as a means for miscommunication humor. Other than that, I think it can be a slippery slope that depends on what kind of reader you are and how it’s written.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Chronicles of Narnia! My very first fanfiction was a Narnia fanfic that I barely remember except that it laid the basis for Temptation and my Narnia fanfic series as a whole. I never posted this first iteration anyway, but I remember it was 2008/2009 and I wrote a solid 80 pages (which was wild for me at the time) and had gotten halfway through remixing the events of Prince Caspian when my computer crashed and I lost absolutely everything. I’m still heartbroken that it’s gone forever, not because I’d want to go back and read it necessarily (since I’m sure it was actually hot garbage) but at least for nostalgia’s sake. Either way, like I said, this long-lost fic laid the basis for the very first fanfiction I ever posted, the first published (and never finished) iteration of Temptation back in 2011 on deviantART and the since-defunct Figment. I fell out of the fandom around 2012/2013 and left the story alone for a while before ultimately deciding to completely redux and rewrite the story when the fixation swung back around again between 2016 and 2018.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Despite the fact that it’s still in-progress, definitely The Scarecrow and The Bell. This fic just genuinely means so damn much to me and I will cherish it for the rest of my life because of how much it’s given me, how much love and passion and time and even parts of myself that I have poured into this, and also just how expansive of a story this is. Not only does it touch on some very dark and heavy topics, but I’ve also created so much of my own characters and meta for this story that it’s almost an entire universe in and of itself. I’ve just contributed so much additional world-building and created so many new OCs to fill important roles in this story and in Rei’s life, and they’ve all become so deeply important to me as they’ve developed further over the years. I’ve come up with so many interesting ideas for everyone and their lives, which are all slowly becoming so rich and varied. Not to mention that it’s my most popular fic to date as well as my longest fic at 632k and counting. I’ve really just genuinely poured so much of my heart and soul into this story, it’s my absolute favorite thing I’ve ever done and I really mean it when I say that I will cherish it for the rest of my life.

#tag games #ramblings

7 notes · View notes

lightsupinthenorth · 4 years ago

Text

Harringrove teachers AU part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Thank you to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the previous parts. Also, the people who said something nice in the tags or in reactions own my heart. Just thought you should know ;) <3

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume, @marianaosborne, @liglitterbug, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove @yikesharringrove @yogurtfordinner @wingedbears @charlotte-frey @hargrovesharrington

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;)

I hope the tags are working because I recently had some trouble with them (ah, Tumblr is a mess).

I was planning on keeping the chapters short but every part has been longer than the last so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (then again, it’s still pretty short so I guess it’s fine ^^).

I’ll stop rambling now.

Billy didn’t know how he had ended up in this situation, this situation being Steve and he making out in the otherwise empty teachers’ lounge, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He wanted to keep Steve’s soft lips on his forever. Sadly, he didn’t get his way: there was a loud bang, and suddenly Steve’s lips were gone. Steve was gone too, as well as the teachers’ lounge. Billy woke up at home, in his bed, hard as a rock in the basket-ball shorts he was wearing as pajamas.

Great, he got an erection just from dreaming he and Steve were kissing. What was he? A teenager? That was pathetic.

Billy was considering rubbing one out, despite the embarrassment, but there was another loud bang that made him remember why he had woken up in the first place.

What the fuck was happening this early on a Saturday?

Billy instantly worried Max had fallen or, worse, that someone had broken into the flat and would hurt her (highly improbable in such a small town, but Billy wasn’t alert enough to be logical). The concern killed his arousal in two seconds tops. He shot up from bed and exited his bedroom in a hurry.

He found Max in their open kitchen, mixing what appeared to be pancakes ingredients.

“What was that noise?” He asked, in lieu of a greeting.

“I dropped the pan. Sorry.”

“There were two noises.”

“I dropped the mixing bowl too. Let me live! It’s your fault, you stored both these things on the highest shelf” Max complained.

“Hey, no need for a defense, I’m not accusing you. I was just worried, shitbird.”

“Oh… well, I’m okay.”

“And you’re making pancakes, so I’m certainly not going to complain.” Billy added.

“Who told you I was making some for you?”

Billy pouted, even though he knew Max was bluffing. He could see the amount of batter in the mixing bowl. She had quite an appetite, but there was no way she’d be able to eat all of that on her own.

“So mean, so early in the morning.”

“What can I say, I love messing with you.”

Paradoxically, Billy was happy that she did. When they had first met, he’d been a perpetually angry teenager, and teeny tiny Max had done everything she could to stay out of his way. Once Susan had announced she was ill, though, Billy had tried his hardest to be the brother Max deserved. After Susan’s death, Billy had looked after Max and kept her safe from his father until he had turned legal. He had then fought to get Max away from Neil and had obtained full custody of her.

It had been hard to balance getting his degree, working part-time jobs, and taking care of Max. Even more so with Neil trying to steer trouble every now and again. But they had made it out alright, in the hand, and Billy didn’t regret a second of it.

“Sit your ass down.” Max said as she turned the stove on.

“Oh no, no way. You ‘sit your ass down’. I’ll take it from here.”

Max was good at finding the best recipes and at mixing ingredients, but the cooking process was another thing entirely: she had nearly burned the kitchen down almost every time she had tried using the oven or the stove. Her cooking privileges had been revoked after the fifth time.

“Ugh, fine.”

Billy had two plates full on pancakes in no time. He put one in front of Max and went to sit down with his own on the other side of the table. The second his ass touched his chair, Max asked:

“So, you have plans with Steve and Robin this afternoon?”

Billy frowned.

“First of all, it’s Mrs. Buckley and Mr. Harrington for you”, he started, just to get on her nerves (he didn’t give a fuck how she called her teachers), “and second, how do you know that?”

Max arched an eyebrow.

“You literally talked about it with Steve right in front of me yesterday”, she said, ignoring Billy’s reprimand (no surprise, there).

“Oh… right… I did.”

Truthfully, Billy had stopped paying attention to Max and El the second he had laid eyes on Steve and the dumb spot of blue paint that had been resting on his cheek as if it had any right to.

“So, what are you guys going to do?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re going to grade papers.”

“Well, that’s exciting.”

Her sarcasm was off the charts.

“Tell me about it”, Billy mumbled, around a mouthful of pancake.

“Ew, gross.”

Billy stuffed even more pancake into his mouth, in defiance, before he spoke again:

“So, Art club, uh? What’s up with that?”

They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk about it the day before, because Friday night was movie night, and they had eaten dinner in front of the tv. Plus, Billy would have been too distracted to hold a conversation (Steve hadn’t left his mind).

“Steve said I should come. He noticed I haven’t been speaking to a lot of people, and he said it might help to do an activity in a smaller group…” Max wasn’t looking at Billy as she explained.

“Anyway, I think he was right. He’s the best!” She beamed as she said it, finally looking up from her slowly but surely diminishing pile of pancakes.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

Billy was glad, really. He was also a bit frustrated that Steve had managed to talk to Max about making friends, when Billy hadn’t known how to bring it up without offending her, but he wasn’t petty enough to show he had a problem with it. Even if Max calling Steve “the best” was treason of the highest order, Billy just wanted her to be happy. If Steve’s intervention helped more than Billy himself could, then so be it.

They finished breakfast, got ready for the day and then went grocery shopping. As they got back to the flat, Max went to her room to chill, and Billy read for a while before he started preparing lunch. Keeping busy distracted him from thinking about seeing Steve in the afternoon. Well, he didn’t think about it too much, at least.

When Billy made his way into the coffee shop, Steve and Robin were already seated, talking animatedly… in another language.

“Hi. Was that Italian?”

They must not have noticed him approaching, because as soon as he greeted them, they stopped talking, and Steve looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Hey Billy”, Robin said, “as a matter of fact, it was.”

“Don’t you teach French and Spanish?”

Billy was perplexed.

“I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t speak Italian.”

“It figures”, Billy shrugged.

He wanted to ask Steve where he had learnt Italian, because it intrigued him. However, he chose not to. He didn’t want to talk to him unless it was necessary. It’d be better for everyone if they had the bare minimum of interactions together, surely.

“Are these new piercings?” Robin asked, gesturing toward his ears.

“Uh, no. I’ve had them for a long time. I just don’t wear them at school.”

“Well, you should. They look really cool, and I’m sure no one would have anything to say about it.”

Billy stared at Steve pointedly, but Steve looked away as soon as he caught his gaze.

“I’ll think about it.” Billy finally said.

Steve and Robin already had their orders, so Billy took his wallet from his bag and went to the counter. He glanced at the display case and eyed the cherry pie with envy, but decided against it. After this morning’s pancakes, it wouldn’t be reasonable. Plus, he hadn’t hit the gym in a few days. He had to start indulging less if he wanted to stay in shape. He went for a simple black coffee. As the burly man behind the counter, whom Billy guessed to be Benny, asked him if he wanted anything else, Billy nearly surrendered, but he powered through. He handed Benny a ten-dollar bill and put the change he was given in one of his pockets.

When Billy went back to their table with his cup of coffee, Steve was blowing on his cup of steaming hot tea. Billy’s eyes caught on the ‘o’ shape of Steve’s lips, which reminded him of his dream. He averted his eyes, praying to God he wasn’t blushing, now that he couldn’t hide it behind his tan anymore (screw Hawkins, Indiana).

As Billy sat down, he noticed Steve had a piece of the pie he’d been eyeing. Not fair. He nearly started pouting but caught himself. After all, his pie-less state was his own fault. Why did he have to be reasonable?

Billy took his pen and the essays he had to grade out of his backpack to give himself something to focus on. But then Steve started eating. And he moaned. Quite obscenely.

“Mh, this is so good. Benny is a magician. You guys want a bite?”

Billy really wanted to say yes, not only because he wanted pie, but because Steve was the one offering. It would have been weird, though? Right?

“No thanks” he ended up saying. What a hard thing to say.

Robin had no such qualms. She needn’t have, since she and Steve were actually friends. Not only did she get to experience Steve warmth and kindness, she also got a bite of his pie. Did she even know how lucky she was?

Billy got into his grading. And he was already past the no-pouting stage of the afternoon. It sucked to be him, sometimes.

“You should probably wait for Steve to finish eating… and drinking too, to be honest, before you put your students’ paper on the table. That man is a disaster.”

Billy had to admit Robin was right. He ate lunch with Steve on a regular basis, and had therefore seen him spill a bunch of things on himself. Thankfully, nothing he had ever spilled had reached Billy, so they were probably safe.

“Oh come on! We’re on opposite ends of the table.” Steve objected.

“I know, but I’m sure you’d find a way.”

Steve scoffed but didn’t try to argue his case any further. He looked adorably ruffled when Robin laughed at his expanse.

They didn’t say anything more for a while, as they were finally doing what they had come here to do. At some point, though, Robin brought up a point one of her students had made about the French translation of “Newspeak” in George Orwell’s 1984, which led her and Billy to launch a discussion about the novel.

Steve offered no input whatsoever, but he had stopped grading and had been staring at them for five minutes straight.

It was making Billy’s skin itch.

At some point, he couldn’t take it anymore and asked:

“What’s your opinion Steve?”

“Uh… I… I don’t really have one.” He stammered, caught off guard.

“How come?”

“I, uh, I haven’t actually read the book.”

“Oh. Well, you should. It’s an amazing book.”

Steve fidgeted with his red pen, repeatedly taking the cap off and then putting it back on.

“Uh… I don’t know about that. It’s not really my thing.”

“How can you know it’s not your thing if you haven’t read it?” Billy asked, a tad defensively.

“I didn’t mean the book… I meant, reading.”

Steve bit his lower lip.

“Why not? Is that beneath a math buff such as yourself, or something?” Billy’s tone had become hostile.

And, by pulling accusations out of his ass like that, he had gone from defensive to straight up aggressive.

“No. ‘course not… It’s just… reading is hard for me… I’m, uh… I’m dyslexic, so…” Steve trailed off, looking down at the pen he was seemingly holding in a vice grip.

Billy was speechless with shame and regret, as Steve offered a wobbly smile and said: “I’m gonna… go get some more tea”, before leaving the table.

Billy stared at his retreating form before he turned to Robin and found her glaring at him. If he could have felt worse than he already did, he would have.

“So… should I go apologize right now or should I leave him alone and apologize later?”

Teenage Billy would have probably not apologized at all, but present-time Billy knew better. He felt like the biggest jerk.

“I’d say, go for it.”

Billy followed Robin’s advice and, with knots in his stomach, he went to Steve, who was waiting for his tea behind the counter.

“Steve, man… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…” Steve said, but his eyes didn’t leave his own shoes.

That wouldn’t do. Billy had made Steve feel shitty, and he would make it better if it were the last thing he did.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Billy had let his frustration with Steve get the better of him, and that was unacceptable. Steve was not particularly nice to him, so what? It wasn’t a reason to be outright mean to the guy.

“Really, it’s no big deal… It’s not like it’s a secret… my dyslexia, I mean.”

“Yeah, but you obviously didn’t want to share this piece of info with me, and I should have dropped it.”

“I just… I was afraid you’d find me stupid… But you probably thought I was stupid already, anyway… what with me never having anything interesting to say when Robin and you talk about literature.”

“Hey, I don’t…”

Benny placed Steve’s cup of tea on the counter, cutting Billy mid-sentence.

“It’s on me”, Billy said, fishing his five-dollar bill of change out of his jean’s back pocket and handing it to Benny.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was Steve blushing or was it a trick of the light?

“I want to make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for, but thanks.”

Steve grabbed his cup of tea and was going to go back to their table, but Billy held him back.

“Wait… I want you to know I don’t find you stupid, okay? I know I’m kind of a jackass, but not enough of one to actually think dyslexic people are stupid.”

“Good to know”, Steve replied.

“So, are we good?”

“I told you, we are.” Steve assured, smiling brighter than he had ever smiled at Billy before.

The knots in Billy’s stomach loosened, and his heart filled with warmth. So that was how it felt, when Steve’s sunshine fell upon you? Billy couldn’t wait to experience that feeling again.

“We should get back to Robin.”

“We should” Billy echoed, before following Steve, awestruck.

#Harringrove #Harringrove teachers AU #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Max Mayfield #Robin Buckley #Stranger Things

135 notes · View notes

lollybliz · 5 years ago

Text

bout to make a Monster of a fic rec post here we go

heyo @jinx108! We’ll start with the complete ones because sometimes you’re just not in the mood to wait for the last chapter, you know? I don't remember details of all of these so i’m just going to copy the author’s summary rather than write my own. I am literally just going through my bookmarks, I got 400 of these to sort through. if ive talked to or am familiar with the author im gonna mention them, but if I mention you and you don't want me to have Please tell me and i’ll remove it.

If you’re not into spoilers Please Tread Carefully, I don't watch out for that stuff so I wont know to label it

1>Crushing Truth by Bunzuku: Tododeku. “Romance is hard enough for a teenager to understand when they have a good relationship role model. For Shoto, it takes two excited meddlers for him to even realize what his feelings really are.“

2>Disowned by b00mgh: tododeku + others. Unrated, some traumatic elements. “Shouto freaks out under a bridge and I use the word "grass" a lot more than I really should. Izuku does his stupid martyr thing and everyone makes continuous references to his propensity to break his bones. Aizawa goes "oh FUCK my kids are dying again" and his students use him as emotional (and physical) support. A friend requests angst, I say what kind, she say idk make someone get disowned and i say oh this I can absolutely provide my good buddy.”

3>cotton candy hands by @chonideno: Kiribaku. I will take Any excuse to rec this fic, its the most fluffy pile of feels Good Lord. also the first fic I ever bound into a physical book. “Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no. A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro“

4>Catching Sight of the Storm by neo7v: Kiribaku, tododeku. A considerable amount of Whump and related angst, and kinda sad tbh. “Blind. Quirkless. Useless.The first two things were stated clearly by the doctor that sat about five feet in front of Izuku. The third was a word that Kacchan called him everytime he failed to make the jump on whatever forest excursion they were on or when he ran into a tree because he hadn’t seen it. “I’m so, so sorry, Izuku.” Was his mom giving up on him already? But he could still be a hero if he tried hard enough, right? Quirkless or not. Blind or not. Just because Izuku was useless now didn’t mean he would stay that way forever, right? *** A Blind!Izuku AU”

5>Yell Heah by fakecharliebrown: Chatfic. M a n y pairings. technically complete, but part of an ongoing series. “Iida creates a group-chat for Class 1-A. It doesn't go as planned.“

6>Sunshine by Rosey_Note: BIG SAD. tw- failed suicide attempt. KiriKamiBaku. “They didn't deserve to put up with his crappy mood. Because Denki Kaminari did not feel like Sunshine right now. And they deserved sunshine. In fact, Denki didn't feel much of anything right now.“

7>Electric Connection by Onlymostydead: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk has always had... Weird side affects. Like his ADHD. And his constant energy. And his insomnia, which wouldn't leave him be right now, when he really needed to just get some sleep. But, thankfully, he has good friends.“

8>The Best (The Worst) by Onlymostydead: no romantic pairing. tw- rampant transphobia, both outside and internalized. “Bakugou Katsuki has known who he was since he was four years old. He was a boy, it was as simple as that. Around his friends, at school... But things couldn't just be that simple, could they?“

9>Lichtenberg Figures by Q_loves_you: no definite romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki has a very powerful force of nature running through his body. Kaminari Denki doesn't want to hurt anybody. He doesn't always get what he wants, and "anybody" does generally include himself.“

10>Eventuality by KikaTouka: ill be honest I don't remember this one at all, I maaaay not have read it yet :/. anyway. ShinKami. “Shinsou learns more than just hero lessons after being transferred to 1-A.“

11>Pickup Lines for the Soul by MustardSoup: ShinKami. “Denki is twelve when he is flicking through the TV channels and lands on an old RomCom movie about soulmate marks – specifically the same type that he has. “I can’t believe I’ve had to walk around with a cheap pickup line written on my ankle my entire life because of you!” The leading lady yells at the leading man as he stares at her in awe. Denki laughs. “Oh no.” His mother says, watching him. “Oh no, indeed.” His sister repeats quietly.“

12>caught in my own web by @anxioussailorsoldier: ShinKami. “Shinsou needs some help after getting caught up in his capture weapon. Kaminari enters from stage left.“

13>not so summer love by nataliya: ShinKami. “Class 2-B’s common room, although typically quiet, was currently filled with five students—three slowly giving up on homework, one bitching about noise and another that rushes through the front door. “We’ve been waiting for you—” Mina starts, but Kaminari’s vaulting over the back of the couch, eyes wide as he practically buzzes out of his skin, emitting light like crazy as currents dazzle across strands of hair. “I have a big ugly crush,” He steps off the couch and onto the coffee table, much to Bakugou’s chagrin, “On big ugly Shinsou.””

14>Blamed by coldandhotsoba: ShinKami. Tw- they fuckin kill a guy and its a lil nasty. “This was not how the day was supposed to end. They were supposed to end the day like they do most nights. Kaminari clutching onto him like a koala as he slept, wrapped in the millions of tacky blankets Kaminari had bought. Warm and safe in their bed. It was not supposed to end with both of them tied up in some cold metal room.“

15>Lightning Scars by Present-Mics-Scream (write_your_way_out): Shinkami. “It's hard to be confident in your abilities when you're surrounded by people with incredible quirks. Shinsou Hitoshi would know better than anyone. Sure, he was admitted to the hero course in his second year, but being admitted to the hero course, and keeping up with the rest of the class are two different things. Lucky for him, Kaminari is there to prove that the flashiest quirks come with the largest drawbacks.“

16>See No Evil, Hear No Evil by randomfan188: no romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki is legally blind. When he forgets to wear his contacts and breaks down during math class, comfort appears in the strangest of ways.“

17>how not to enjoy the weather, an article by kaminari denki by dreamtowns: no defined romantic pairing. “If there was one thing Kaminari hated the most in a world wth villains, it would have to be thunderstorms.“

18>”Studying” by emmyrox22: ShinKami, EraserMic. “Shinsou and Kaminari have been “studying” together for a while (but not for school). Shinsou gets stopped by his dads on the way to another “study” session and mistakes are made“

19>Weaknesses by sunflowerstorm: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk and storms compliment each other in the worst way, but he's convinced he can deal with it on his own... until he really can't any longer. When Shinsou accidentally overhears Aizawa confronting Kaminari about recent changes in behaviour and hears about the hell his quirks been putting him through, he can't just pretend he never heard. He wants to help.“

20>it’s hurt denki hours by memeingfultrash: ShinKami + others. ““Certain members of our class are...under the impression that...you’re the traitor.” Denki’s body went cold and felt like he was going to short circuit. ~some of class 1a believes that denki is the traitor and avoid him”

21>Petition to replace Mineta with Shinsou- (signed by Kaminari Denki) by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami + others. This is one of my favorites, I go back to reread it from time to time. It SAYS 41/42, but that's just a glitch cus chapter 36 doesn't exist for some reason, I talked to the author about it and its fine. “Mineta brings shame to the color purple. You know who does not bring shame to the rich color, but pride and sexual tension to one infatuated Kaminari Denki instead? Shinsou Hitoshi, aka sexy zombie man, aka the most perfect hunk of a man to walk planet earth, aka future husband. Shinsou has finally gotten his chance to prove himself to the hero course, and he did more than prove himself. The only question left unanswered is whether he will start in A or B, and how Kaminari can manipulate the end result.“

22>How to Get a Boyfriend (in Four Easy Steps!) by e1ana: ShinKami, EraserMic, + others. “Step 1: Get kicked out of the house by your homophobic parents. Step 2: Run headfirst into your brooding, mysterious crush. Step 3: Sleep in his dad’s (see: your homeroom teacher) house Step 4: Watch everything you thought you knew go to shit. This isn’t exactly the sweet, romantic plan that Kaminari Denki longed for. Will everything be ok, or will step 5 be to crash and burn?“

23>Bakugou and Todoroki’s Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by Anubis_2701: Kiribaku, TodoDeku, + others. This is another one of my favorites, and the one I am currently folding and sewing into a physical book. you learn how to do funny things when bored and quarantined ig. “It was a simple enough idea; screw around with the resident bastard of Class 1-A to let him know that his medieval ways and perverted behaviour weren't going to be tolerated by even the most career-focused of UA's students. To say that things had snowballed was an understatement. Todoroki had no idea how he had ended up sitting on Bakugou's floor at 1 am, holding a dossier of incriminating material that would make the FBI slobber, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The long and short of it was, fuck Mineta.”

24>Colour Theory by chancellorxofxtrash: TodoBakuDeku. this one’s a series. “Midoriya/Bakugo/Todoroki slow burn soulmate AU. All three of them are nerds with their own emotional issues, trying to navigate their way through becoming heroes, and their own relationship with each other.“

25>Summer Sunshine by Mara97: TodoDeku. Ever want a Barbie in a mermaid tale/Bnha crossover? No? well here you go anyway! “Instead of worrying about college, Izuku spends his summer vacation finding out his father is, supposedly, a dead merman king and going on a quest to dethrone the current king, Endeavor. Along the way, Izuku becomes close to the three journeying with him, makes friends with strangers, starts crushing on an unattainable prince, and, in the end, learns to love himself. Oh, and he saves a kingdom, too.“

26>The snowflakes on our skin and the flames in our soul are one (and the same), my love by missunderstuffyou: TodoDeku, Kiribaku. this is one of the ones I keep a running reread comment going on. its at,,, 6, atm. “Before your quirk begins to present itself, the soulmate link comes through, and suddenly whatever you write upon your own skin appears on the body of your soulmate. As your soulmate writes to you, the emotions they feel follow through the ink.Izuku Midoriya is four years and a few months old when he first feels the slight ebbing in his arms. It doesn’t hurt… he can just feel something, and it’s enough to make him sprint into his mother’s arms screaming that his quirk is coming. She had been washing in the kitchen, and the sudden screech as her son rockets into her side is enough to make her jump with panic, immediately grabbing at him and looking for cuts and bumps before she understands his words and the stupidly bright, alight smile on his face with large, watery, hopeful eyes. Shoto Todoroki doesn’t feel his soulmate connection open up. It is drowned in the aches of a small body worked far too hard.“

27>It was dark inside the closet by Chad_Champion69420: Pre-ShinDeku? maybe? its tagged shindeku but like. it’ll make sense if you read it. “Midoriya is invited to a party. He and Shinsou decide to play a little trick on the rest of the party during Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

28>how to woo your local trash gremlin: a comprehensive guide by Todoroki shouto by wonhaebunny: TodoBaku. this is the fic that dragged me into todobaku, fun fact. “five times shouto tries to confess to bakugou, and one time he doesn't bother tryingaka: wikihow is a scam and bakugou is a terrible, terrible boy“

29>top ten photos taken right before disaster by Shookspeare: ShinDeku. “Izuku participates in a harmless prank, only to end up ruining it and running for dear life.“

30>Secrets to Share by pechebaie: no definite romantic pairing. “Kirishima comes out first, and nothing changes. Kirishima and Kaminari still hang out to complain about class and talk about boys - and sometimes girls, too, in Kaminari’s case; he still plans stupid pranks with Sero that get them sent to the principal’s or nurse’s office every time; Ashido still kicks his ass at Mario Kart without hesitation; and Bakugou doesn’t get angry at him any more than he usually does.“

31>What One Hides by Pinalinet: TodoDeku. “All Might gives class 1-A an unusual assignment that results in Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto attending a weekly acting class. But with a mysterious villain targeting individuals without Quirks, and a developing issue of Todoroki's own, an after-school assignment is the least of their worries.“

32>whether or not we’re fated, we’re meant to be by juurensha: KINDA SPOILERY. TodoDeku + others. “Todoroki didn’t have a soulmark for most of his life.His siblings all did, but up until the day of the U.A. entrance exam, he had shoved the idea aside. It’s not like they could help him anyway. And then a 9 appears on his chest, and a green-haired boy barrels into his life with a fire and ice soulmark on his arms, and suddenly Todoroki cares very much about all this could mean.”

33>The Midnight Shift by meiishu @meiishu @totallytodoroki (idk which you’d rather I attach so I went with both): ShinKami. ““Hey Toshi,” Denki says, and he laughs, clearly embarrassed. He’s got on a jean jacket that did him absolutely no help and a white tee shirt that is currently stuck to his torso. It’s got a pikachu design in the center. “By any chance, do you sell umbrellas?” “You really went out in this weather.” Hitoshi deadpans, instead of dignifying that with an answer. or hitoshi works the midnight shift at the gas station, which also doubles as a pokestop for pokemon go. of course, denki is a regular.”

34>Rock the House by AkabaneKayo: ShinKami. “It wasn’t just his bed. It was his entire fucking room shaking. Only one thought crossed his mind at that moment: “Holy shit. My room is haunted.”“

35>Technically, they’re morning kisses by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami. “Most nights, Shinsou cannot fall sleep. Neither can Kaminari. It seems counterproductive to have a sleepover then, but they try to make it work. And they fail, but that is okay.“

36>someone to call mine by nearly_theyre: ShinKami, EraserMic “From: Me wish you were here, denks From: kitten 💛💘💛 what if i was tho? OR Four times Denki snuck into Hitoshi's room and one time he walked through the front door.“

37>Pretty by Onlymostydead (noticing some repeat authors? me too): no definite romantic pairing. “(Or, Kaminari still can't figure out bra clasps.) Kaminari has never really felt good about himself. Herself? Whichever way, not knowing doesn't make anything easier. Especially when he (she?) and Mina have their bodies swapped during training, and everything seems too right.“

38>If I offer you my hand, will you take it? by bleukitsune: Kiribaku. SPOILERY. ““Why?” Kirishima leaned back on his hands, trying to create some space between them. Too close. The ash-blond looked really nervous, his usually arrogant and cunning demeanor gone. “What do you see when you look at me? Kirishima is worried. Bakugou is hurting. After his confrontation with Midoriya, he finally reaches out to him. “

Theres way more but I haven't tagged them properly yet so that m a y come later if I can ever finish going through and adding my sorting tags.

and then a last few that Are Not Complete but im really very fond of them. not as many as id like to add, but my hands are getting tired tbh.

39>State of Mind by GuardianOfTheLoaf: no relationship YET but its looking like it’ll be either tododeku or shindeku, probably the former. EraserMic. tw- childhood neglect and severe depression. Izuku’s not a happy kid. “Izuku was a late bloomer, his quirk lying dormant until his tenth birthday when in a fit of emotion he grabs his mother and she disappears. With All Might slowly restoring his confidence Izuku begins the difficult journey into becoming a hero.“ 18/? chapters.

40>Izuku Eats His Problems by CosmicAce: ShinDeku. Izuku’s a flerkin, what more could you want? “His whole life, Izuku Midoriya was taught to keep his powers, his Quirk, hidden from the world. His kind were feared, hunted to near extinction because of it. He just wants to show people he’s different. That he can be a HERO. And nothing is going to stop him. Even if his Quirk IS like an eldritch abomination.“ 43/? chapters

and then probably my current favorite bnha fic- although it fights with Apertum Mortem for that spot but that ones d a r k and not here-

41>family of the year by periiwren: EraserMic. “Hitoshi is done. Done with moving around every few months to a couple that will scrutinize him and eventually dump him right back where he started. Good thing he’s well past his strike limit now- at least he can stay in one place, be content to age out of the system and finish out his training with Aizawa. Maybe transfer into the hero course, maybe be a hero- but none of that was guaranteed. The only thing for sure was that he was going to stay in that center for the rest of his childhood. Or so he thought- because Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi have other plans.“ 24/? chapters. we’ve been informed that this one’s gonne be l o n g and im Very Grateful.

42>Here There Be Dragons by here_and_there: pre-ShinDeku. “Izuku looked at the small circle Aizawa had motioned to in front of them. "I won't fit," he whispered, thinking. He raised his hand, tentatively. Sighing, Aizawa grumbled, "What?" "I-I have a question. Actually, two." His teacher just stared at him, unimpressed. Izuku continued. "Can we activate our quirks before we step into the ring?" Aizawa looked up into the sky, muttering something Izuku didn't hear. "If you must." "O-Okay. Uh, second question. You said we have to stay inside the circle, right?" "Yes." The man looked disappointed, not only in Izuku but in himself for letting the kid speak. "Great. Uh... does that include tails?"“ 6/? chapters.

43>Another Option by sandersonsister: TodoBakuDeku, Touya/Hawks, Dabi/Hawks. Potentially Spoilery, depends on whether horikoshi has the guts to confirm Touya. this one is waiting around the corner with a baseball bat, its really cute, and then r e a l l y painful. it might be getting better though. maybe. it might be getting worse. “When Touya stops his mother from hurting Shouto, he decides enough is enough. He needs to get out of this house and he's taking his baby brother with him.“ 33/? chapters.

That's it i’m done for now, oof. maybe ill edit more onto this post later, maybe i’ll just make another one. hope some of these work!

#fic rec #bnha #mha #tododeku #todobakudeku #kiribaku #shinkami #shindeku #erasermic #To Be Continued

307 notes · View notes