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twodimecastle · 3 years ago

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fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

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ares-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

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Izzy said: Fairy! Im so excited for your dark content!! Since i saw it on your other blog, may i request for yandere bertholdt 👀 i feel the would make the most unsuspecting but worst (or best?) Yandere next to armin because he's so gentle and unassuming and shy, no one would ever think he has other intentions

Yandere Bertolt pt.I

{ Bertolt x reader | tw:yandere, tw:toxic-behaviour, tw:near-death experince, tw:murder mystery? Eh kinda, tw:manipulation tw:Emotional-rollercoster | Dark romance, fluff, slowburn, lowkey funny ngl | Canonverse }

{ "Roses" 1878 by George Cochran Lambdin 1830–1896 }

Securing the last belt around your thighs before attaching it to the one near your knees, you made sure to tighten it as much as you can before sliding it in the metal head.

Having the equipment room all to yourself, you took your time in double-checking everything was in place. Making sure your gas tanks were filled, carrying spare steel blades and tightening your boot strings.

The manoeuvring gear's parts made a clinking sound against each other with every step you took. Making your way to the nearby woods acting as the training ground, the sun shining made you shield your eyes with your hands, taking some seconds to adjust to the brightness.

The road was clear, with almost no birds or squirrels in sight.

It was one of those days when the wind seemed so fast as it swept by you, so much in fact that you could visibly see the few clouds swimming by as if they're racing each other. A perfect day to spend near a lake maybe, or in a field of flowers, but you had to spend it training in the woods with the other soldiers till your fingers ached from pressing against the handgrips.

You wanted to get it over with, feeling nauseous. Probably because you managed to oversleep and miss breakfast.

It started as normally as any other training session went, pushing through till your autopilot took over. While fun at first, there's so much manoeuvring between tree branches to slash at 2d wooden cutout of titans you could do before it started getting repetitive.

And so you let your body take over and move on its own, taking you further and further towards the edge of the forest till you couldn't hear the sound of anyone else's manoeuvring gear except your own.

The high wind rustling the trees making the leaves fall distorted your visions as they fell on you, and the flashing sunlight that swept through the small openings between the leaves only made things worse.

Blinding you for split seconds, too bright in fact, that you had to close your eyes shut as it burned after the light fell directly against it.

It's only after a couple of seconds late, that the sound of something snapping registered in your brain.

You were slowly turning in the air, strong wind resistance coming from below as gravity pulled you down.

Things were moving too quickly to process, dread shot through your entire body in shivers, you could feel your heartbeat in the back of your throat as you came closer and closer to the ground.

No matter how many times your clammy hands attempted to work the pistol-shot, no hooks attached to the nearby trees despite the gears working as you heard its zipping noise.

The realisation of the situation you're in finally settled, you couldn't do a single thing, but watch the trees grow larger and larger by the second as you fell to your doom.

You've survived many expeditions and missions, you've escaped Titans teeth that were mere inches from biting your head off, and this is what will put you seven feet below? A mere fall?

...no, it wasn't just a fall, it was arrogance for taking it for granted. After all, overconfidence was a slow and insidious killer, sneaking on the second you let your guard down.

But was it?

A flash of today's morning comes before your eyes, your brain recalling the unusual spot your manoeuvring gear was placed, you were too sleepy to notice it at the time but now it's the only thing on your mind, did someone-

Before you could hit the ground, the familiar sound of pressured gas fizzling out followed by the clinking of metal swishing by.

One second you were almost slamming into the hard ground, the next you were caught by someone mid-flight.

Bertolt tightly pressed you against his chest with one arm, securing you in place while his other used his gear to reach the nearest tree branch.

Your hands wrapped around him, securing yourself even more. He didn't flinch when your nails accidentally scratched his neck from how hard you were holding him.

Despite how close you were to his chest, your own hammering heartbeat was the only sound you could hear for it was stuck in your throat as the adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You hesitantly let go the second your feet touched the ground, although still shaking you managed to find your balance again, yet, Bertolt's hand didn't leave your back.

You looked below at the wires dangling from your gear, their end visibly thinner than the rest of it. It still didn't register how a wire made out of iron could snap so easily…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the hand reluctantly turning your face back up, Bertolt's nervous eyes meeting yours.

"Don't look down too much, you'll get dizzy" he said, concern clear in his voice before stepping closer to you, his large body tucking you between him and the tree behind, as if you might slip away "are you okay? Did you get injured?"

A bit taken back by his dotting, you shook your head before thanking him for not letting you fall.

"Don't mention it please...it's nothing, really." That seemed to make the corner of his lips rise a bite, slight flushing to his ears. "Maybe you should get some rest, you didn't seem well back there."

Was he watching?

The thought disappeared from your mind as quickly as it came, the guy saved you from a head injury after all, the least you could do is give him the benefit of the doubt.

Not to mention, it was Bertolt. Has it been any other guy, Reiner or Jean for example, then your attitude towards this whole thing would've been completely different. Putting as much space as you can between the two of you after brushing off their hands.

Has it been any other guy...but it wasn't now, was it?

No. It was Bertolt, soft-spoken and easily flustered Bertolt, who got nervous in most situations and didn't reply to teasing.

Bertolt, who didn't say a thing when Eren stole his seat next to Reiner, instead settled to sit next elsewhere.

Bertolt, who always remained humble and downplayed his skills despite ranking in the top five and becoming a really valuable soldier.

Bertolt, who you've only ever said hi to before once before he seemed to panic and just awkwardly wave back instead.

Maybe that's why you didn't mind him being so close, he wasn't a threat and most everyone knew that. If you asked people to rank the top three men they'd feel safe in a room with, Bertolt would almost make it to everyone's top two.

And so when he offered to walk you back to your room, it didn't raise any red flags despite it meaning you'd be alone with him in the dorms while everyone was training.

The short walk went fairly nice actually, he kept a respectful space between you while making sure to walk at a slower pace so his height wouldn't force you to jog.

From the sweat collecting at his forehead and his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt he seemed to struggle to find a good conversation starter.

You could read him like an open book, it was quite endearing the way he commented over how nice the weather is, four times in a row while stumbling over his words. But you weren't that cruel and so you decided to grant him mercy, starting a topic yourself.

Talking about your interest, hobbies and things you'd do whenever those rare moments of peace and normalcy would arrive.

He shared his too, apparently, he's into journaling, finding it much easier to write his thoughts on paper than out loud.

One conversation pulled another, as he seemed to grow more comfortable the more you talked.

Although, he wouldn't meet your eyes for more than 5 seconds before turning his gaze away, yet you could feel them staring at you the second you turn your head.

Somewhere between your conversation, the subject switched to talking about life. Bertolt asked you if this is the kind of life you've wanted, words unusually firm that it made you pause.

The question was out of place, a huge switch from your previous fun topics.

Nonetheless, you answered, "I don't think anyone would willingly choose this life. It's more of...doing the most out of the cards you've been dealt, this just happened to be mine."

The sound of his footsteps stopped, you looked at his face, he didn't look away.

"Would you rather have a more normal life?"

The way he stood, his back to the sun with you in his shadow, an unreadable expression on his face, really brought out his height and large build that you've almost forgotten.

you unconsciously took a step back, he took a step forward.

"If by normal you mean a non-starving one where I'm not at the risk of being eaten daily, then yeah." You answered, time felt like it slowed down. The seconds stretched for too long as you watched his reaction.

He...smiled, a sincere smile, the kind that makes your eyes shine. Soft expression seemingly relieved as he continued walking, a slight bounce to his steps.

"I'd love that too, to have a normal life one day."

And then he proceeded to tell you about his dream, the normal life of peacefulness he seeks. Sharing as many details as time would allow, from the kind of person he wants to grow up to be, to the colour he wants to paint the house backyard's fence.

It was lavender.

When he mentioned wanting a dog, you couldn't decide what was funnier, the mental image of Bertolt with an equally almost as big kind of dog, or a small tiny breed that would fit in his hands. Taking him for walks and playing catch as the dog tackles him to the ground.

Some chuckles escaped your lips, and while Bertolt didn't know what you were smiling about, nonetheless he joined too.

Your time together was cut short when the dorms came into view. Feeling both relief for finally being able to rest and disappointment for having to end your conversation so soon, especially since you think this is the first actual talk you had with him besides saying hi before.

Bertolt, looking out for you, made sure to hold the door to your room open for you. Some part of your brain wondered how exactly he managed to guess which room was yours, the other simply couldn't wait to get into bed.

You sat on the bed, Bertolt invited himself in and closed the door behind him.

He took his time looking around your shared room with his eyes, staring at the titles of the books splayed on the table, taking in the smell of scented incense your roommate bought every month, the doodles, drawings and notes hanging by mere tape against the wall.

Finally, eyes landing on the top bunk bed, currently empty with your roommate having left too early in the morning for the preparations of their next expedition.

Well...after all you were too used to waking up by the sound of them opening and closing all the drawers in search of their glasses that they manage to lose each day, yet yesterday they made sure to sleep next to it.

Huh, maybe that's why you overslept.

Yet, Bertolt's eyes didn't move as he stared seconds too long, shoulders growing stiff and palms tightening against his side.

"They left for an expedition, a titan capturing one... I think." You explained, "it's supposed to last three days, but since it's led by Captain Hange...I wouldn't be too surprised if they still haven't left yet."

"Must be nice, having the room for yourself."

You agreed before adding "well, it still gets too lonely sometimes."

Bertolt looked like he wanted to say something, lips parting for a second before he pressed them close into a thin line.

An awkward silence filled the room, as you looked at Bertolt who seemed to revert back to his old nervousness.

"I think I should go, Reiner must be looking for me."

You thanked him again for his help, he avoided your eyes before mumbling a reply, saying it's really nothing.

Did you do something wrong? You couldn't help but think that, after all things were going so well just now. Why would he get on edge again?

As a final attempt to redeem yourself from whatever unknown act you must've committed for Bertolt to act this uncomfortable, you called out to him one last time.

"Hey, Bertolt. I know we technically just met but, just know you can drop by anytime okay? You seem like a nice person and we can be friends."

Oh god did you really say, we can be friends, what is this kindergarten again? Welp you fucked up, looks like it's another failure to add to the calendar, man and you've been keeping such a clean track of days without accidents.

You know what? No, forget it, you tried your best and you had good intentions so why should you ever feel guilty for-

"You really mean that?" Bertolt, whom

You've become aware was still in the room, said.

Not sure how to reply to this, you just gave a nod instead.

"I'd love that." He spoke with a soft tone. And despite his growing desire to move closer to you, he opened the door instead, sparing you one last sweet smile before he left.

And for a good minute there, his smiling face was all that occupied your mind, a fluttering feeling that came and went too quickly for you to acknowledge.

True to your predictions, the mission was apparently delayed till midnight for...undisclosed reasons. Although gossip spread faster than wildfire, and by dinner time everyone was talking about the argument Captain Hange and Captain Levi got into, the story got modified and exaggerated each time it was passed around.

"Listen, I was there and I saw it! Well...not with my own eyes but it doesn't matter." Your roommate said, too eager to spill you everything that they almost forgot to eat their food. "It was big, like Captain Miche having to restrain Levi kind of big!"

You gave them a silent look, raising an eyebrow.

"...okay jeez it didn't get this far but it felt like it did, like it almost happened." They poked their food with the fork, before deciding to try some.

Their pouting face almost made you want to tease them even more, just to see what corner you can back them into before they confess to making up half the story they've been telling you.

But a wrenching gut feeling suddenly shot through your body, coming almost out of nowhere, the kind you'd usually feel whenever a titan was targeting you.

Confusion was naturally your first response, there couldn't be any titans nearby. You swallowed down, no don't be silly, it doesn't even make sense.

Maybe...maybe it was one of those cases you studied in class? About people getting PTSD flashbacks at random times, or from small triggers?

The air seemed too cold and too hot at the same time, you forced your eyes to move around the room in an attempt to remind yourself everything is fine, that you're here.

Seeing your friends, fellow soldiers and veterans just sitting around, enjoying their food while joking with their friends, helped ground you to reality again.

Yeah...see? Nothing's wrong, everyone's having a good time so-

Your gaze met Bertolt's, dark eyes staring back but not at you. No, instead they were focused on your roommate. The knot in your stomach twisted.

Beside him, Reiner was murmuring something under his breath as he leaned closer to Bertolt, his stare following the other's gaze.

Reiner seemed unusual, drops of sweat collecting at his forehead while Bertolt was the opposite, the calmest you've ever seen him actually.

Reiner gave Bertolt one final look, lips moving too fast for you to attempt to even read. Bertolt nodded.

And then it was like nothing happened, both of them going back to their usual selves. Reiner's attention was stolen by Eren asking about his food, while Bertolt looked at Jean who sat next to him without asking before commenting on Eren.

"Hey, are you okay? You look…" your roommate said, concern in their voice before their hand found your forehead. "I heard what happened this morning, with the manoeuvring gear, I didn't want to bring it up but…"

You didn't have to be told twice, and so you reassured them it's okay, you'll get some rest, not like you'd complain about having an excuse to get a day off.

That seemed to make them satisfied, well...that and making you swear on the scouts' honour to take care of yourself while they're away.

After dinner, as you were headed to your room while your roommate had to get to the stable before heading out with their group, you passed by Reiner.

It wouldn't have been unusual, wasn't it for the fact he was fully in his uniform with gear ready that you had to do a double-take.

You swore you just saw him in casual clothes at dinner...was he also going on that mission? Huh, weird you can't remember seeing his name on the list.

The week passed by slower than you would've liked, with both of the survey corps Captains gone, most of the soldiers...really had nothing to do but waste time.

It was almost funny, wasn't it for the fact you were bored out of your mind.

Captain Miche rarely gave orders, the only time you'd see him is during training season when everyone had to do a round with him. While commander Erwin didn't really entrust soldiers who weren't close to him with his paperwork or even chores.

At least Sasha and Connie were making the most of it, whatever they were doing seemed fun…

Bertolt never took you up on your offer either, despite him seemingly having a positive reaction to wanting to be friends he didn't show up at all.

Yet you'd still see him hovering by, either being assigned the same chore together or simply happening to be in the same room at the same time. And despite how much you've thought about going up to him to start a conversation, you knew how to read between the lines. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable that's all.

He'll come when he's ready, is what you told yourself.

And well, you were right, eventually, he did.

Not only did he initiate talking, he even attempted to ask if you'd like to accompany him to the nearby town maybe.

With the way his hands were clasped behind his back and slight flushing to his cheeks as he summoned all his courage to ask you that, how could you say no?

It was almost like seeing an entirely different person.

Bertolt, in his casual clothes, as he strolled by you through the food stands, seemed a much more...healthier version of himself?

He looked at peace, the smile never leaving his lips. He even made jokes and shared his opinions without being asked.

Whenever you went to check something that stole your attention, he would quickly follow by to erase any form of distance. Whenever your eyes fell on a piece of accessories for too long, he'd suggest you try it on, putting it on you himself.

And yet, whenever his hand would brush yours by accident while walking, he'd almost stumble into the ground and quickly pull it back. Or the time you attempted to adjust the collar of his shirt and you swore his knees almost gave out when you stepped closer, reaching his neck.

Both of you tried different kinds of food, he even offered you his own if you seemed to enjoy a certain food. Saying he'd rather you have it.

Both of you being broke soldiers ment there are only so many things you can do in the town before quickly burning through your savings.

It wasn't long before he suggested going back, you agreed to take the long walk back to enjoy nature a bit more.

You've wondered how come Bertolt only seems the most comfortable when talking to you on walks, but the story he was telling you was too interesting for you to think about it now.

You listened to him talk, it felt like you could listen to him for hours on end before getting bored. For someone who rarely spoke, he surely did have a way with words when he actually did.

It was nice, comfortable and gave you a false sense of normalcy as if the world was okay for a short while.

One final thought you had just before the both of you parted to go to your separate rooms, was that if Bertolt was going to write about this day in his journal.

For each day of the remaining week, you and Bertolt managed to hang out more and more.

You went to the lake, a frog landed on him that you had to remove because he was too nervous he might crush it.

He took you to a nearby spot in the town, it seemed normal at first but he just told you to wait. Apparently, each after some dogs would frequent this spot and Bertolt has already made friends with most of them.

And on the last day, both of you actually just spent it...in his room. He had a really comfortable bed and feather pillows that you almost didn't want to leave. And despite sharing a bed he still would keep space between you, no matter the uncomfortable positions he had to sit in.

By the end of the week, the expedition group arrived during sundown.

Their heads lifted high, pride clearly across their faces as they rode their horses. Captain Hange especially seemed much more excited than usual, barely managing to stay still on their horse.

The mission was a success apparently, they've managed to capture two titans with zero mortality rate and minor injuries.

...well almost a zero rate.

You were called into Erwin's office in the middle of the night, when Moblit knocked on your door asking you to quietly follow him.

The night air was cold against your thin clothes, silence filling the usually busy hallways, now errly empty.

Knocking before he told you to enter, he seemed busy with some paperwork, instead offering you a seat and asking to wait shortly.

The curtains behind him were closed shut, the candle sitting on his desk seemed on the verge of burning out, melted wax collecting on the plate under it.

It wasn't till after some seconds that you realised you weren't alone in the room, Captain Levi was leaning against the wall on the other side, arms crossed.

The scratching of the pen against the papers would occasionally get replaced with the sound of dipping the metal head inside the liquid ink container, carefully wiping it against the opening to remove any overflowing liquid.

Your fingers fiddled with the red cushion on the armchair, leg slightly bouncing before you force it to stop each time.

Waiting...and waiting.

The back of your throat felt scratchy, only becoming aware of how dry your mouth was then. Attempting to swallow down as a form of relief didn't help much.

"Here, drink it." A glass of water was offered to you by Levi, handing it to you before going back against the wall.

Saying a small thank you before finishing the glass, you felt slightly better afterwards. Although the growing tension in the air didn't help ease your mind.

"Cadet." Erwin clasped his hands, "I apologise for calling you here this late, although considering the circumstances I'm sure you'd understand."

Opening one of the desk drawers, Erwin pulled out something wrapped in a napkin, the white cotton having a growing reddish stain in its middle.

"I offer my condolences."

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barzzal · 4 years ago

Text

close to you

summary: there’s nothing more excruciating than to lose someone you’ve never imagined losing. but what happens when they’ve already left right before you can even acknowledge them leaving? mathew is yet to find out.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: falling out and break ups

↳ genre: angst.

↳ length: imagine; 1.3k

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: close to you by rihanna (listen to this it’s all that there is really)

note: unsolicited barzy angst fic because i was sad and listening to rihanna, (plus you guys know how much i love angst) this is totally unplanned and written in the past hour so im sorry if there’s sum typos bc i didn’t proofread this :<< hope u still like!! feedbacks are very much appreciated! <3

You were slipping away and he knew it.

Mathew’s mind was running wild. His thoughts were coming in one after another and no matter how hard he tried to shut it out of his head — there it was again.

The cyclical pattern of his seemingly endless misery.

The thought of losing you.

Days with you were spent either in total silence, eating lunch with the television on in the hopes of drowning out the numbing noise that was now in every corner of the home you have built with Mathew; or you know, the mandatory screaming match you indulge yourselves with even over the smallest of things.

Things only escalated the more you try to talk about it. Neither of you really knew how and when it started. And neither felt the need to say a word.

All that you and Mathew did was to watch your years crumble before your own eyes. Years that got shattered with each night spent in an ice cold bed, backs facing each other, not bothering to say a word.

“What happened to us?” his voice crisp and clear even when whispering.

You feel his gaze and you begin to resent yourself for staying up so late. You see him in the corner of your eye, patiently waiting — silently pleading that you’d look his way.

You didn’t.

Instead, you close the book you were reading and take your glasses off. You sigh just as you put it on the bedside table. Mat does nothing but watch you silently, all whilst ignoring his chest growing all the more heavy each time you push him away.

You turn to him, still not meeting his eyes before you turn your night light off. You answer with a meek reply, “I’m tired, Mat.”

“Y/N.” he calls you once but it seems like it’s been hundreds of times for him. He wanted nothing else but to reach out to you — to hold you. Maybe then he’d feel less insecure. Maybe then he’d feel less afraid of facing the fact that you’re slowly fading away farther off his reach.

He knows you heard him but he doesn’t get a reply. And you know he’d be grateful to take on crumbs you’d be willing enough to spare. However, just like the other times he’s tried, your mind numbing quietude was all he had to hold onto.

You try to drift away faster into sleep for you did not want to spend the night hearing him pick out on almost every meaningless thing you’ve done for the past couple of weeks. You were just tired. Insanely tired. And Mat had very little, perhaps almost nothing to do with it. You were lost.

“Do you still love me?” you hear a catch in his throat that instantly tugged strings in your chest.

You fall silent, finding it hard to voice the words Mat had wanted to hear.

Do you still love him?

You didn’t know.

“Baby, please talk to me.” he pleads the longer he basks in your silence. Silence that Mat knew well enough to mean just one thing.

“Please.”

Finally, as if it was the nearest he’s gotten to a win, he sees you shift, turning to face him.

To say the least, you weren’t sure of how you feel towards Mathew. Being with him through all these years have been good, yes — but days weren’t always sunshine. It wasn’t always a calming afternoon walk holding each other’s hands, swaying it in the air, whilst you listen to birds chirping beautifully all year ‘round. Being with Mat came with its own sacrifices. Ones you cannot point out no matter how hard you tried and ones that just made him so hard to love.

“I’m sorry.” you murmur. You avert his gaze, keeping your eyes low on the sheets you’ve once shared wrapped around your naked bodies in search of warmth in each other’s embrace.

You never left Mat’s eyes because leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do. He hesitates to take a few strands that went astray to your face just so he could tuck it behind your ears like he always does. When you lean closer, nudging him to do just that, he feels a kindling fire in his chest. An all too familiar feeling he has deeply missed.

His touch did not make you want to pull away nor did it burn you like it used to. A sad smile creeps up his lips once you finally take the leap and look in his eyes.

“I know you are,” he says, clearing his throat. “And it’s okay. I understand.”

Mat wanted to. He truly does. He wanted to be selfish and just think about his own good. Letting you go wasn’t something he pictured doing because he knows that you know it has never crossed his mind.

Mat wanted to do everything against what willed his heart. But he knew too that letting you keep him at bay just to spare his feelings would do more damage than it could fix and he just couldn’t afford having to lose you twice. He could barely walk through this conversation now. Therefore he’s certainly sure he wouldn’t be able to handle losing you more than once.

“I think I need to figure out some things on my own.” you tell him earnestly. A thing that you’ve wanted to let out ever since coming home to Mathew felt more work than it’s worth.

“Are you gonna be gone for long?” he asks, voice thick and impending to break at any moment.

“I don’t know.” you answer with candor, an apologetic tone masking your words.

Nonetheless, no matter how much you did not want to spend the night breaking Mathew’s heart, he lets you rip one final bandage — exposing a long overdue wound that was without a doubt far from healing, “I won’t really know unless I try, right?”

“Okay.” he smiles, eyes softer than it ever was.

“I’ll be exactly where you left me.”

The night grows deeper as the two of you sink in what seems to be the hardest falling-out you’ve yet to go through. A break up that would definitely stick around Mathew’s end for he has never loved someone as much as he loved you. Perhaps, even more to put himself in the most selfless position he would willingly let himself into.

“What do we do now?” you ask, your voice low and on the brink of letting out a thick sob.

Mat takes your hand and entwines it with his. He holds you tight. He lets his forehead rest on yours, breathing out the pain that’s successfully wrenched his heart in seconds.

He pulls himself closer to you — pouring all he has left to give. Slowly, as he finally let himself pull away, he says, “We sleep.”

No matter how much you wanted to say your piece, you just could not find the words that fit. And so, you do the sanest thing you could give him, leaning closer to every bit of his touch as if the clock had only started ticking.

You see Mathew’s eyes glisten from the moonlight shining from across the room. If only you knew how bad you’re going to miss it. If only you’d appreciated it while you had the chance. If only you knew that the last thing Mat wanted was to see you right before he closed his eyes.

“Good night, y/n.” he says, still holding your hand close to his chest.

God, if you had only known those eyes will be gone the moment you open yours, you would’ve held onto his hand a bit longer. Long enough before he emptied his closet the morning after. Long enough before he had the chance to wipe out every single trace he’s left your apartment. Perhaps even long enough for you to change your mind.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #barzzal imagines #letters to barzy

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gothamsworst · 4 years ago

Note

What about more dork squad and "new robin/sidcick" headcanons? Im in love with that topic😍 thank you!!!!

Jonathan Crane:

His nickname for you is “Mockingbird.” After all, you wear the face of a hero so well, but he knows what’s really beneath. You’re just like him, aren’t you? Evil.

The man has no idea how to flirt out-of-costume, but he gets a lot more bold when he’s in-costume. He’s not as...hesitant, to get “handsy” while you fight.

He’s certain that one day he’ll be able to show you the truth about the world. That fear conquers all. And on that day, he knows for sure, you’ll finally be his.

Edward Nygma:

Is he flirting with you because he actually likes you, or because he knows it gets under The Batman’s skin? Could be one, could be the other--could be both! It’s hard to tell sometimes.

You’re his newest fixation. Sometimes you’re the “prize” in his games, sometimes the “guest,” and sometimes the “trap.” Yet, somehow, you always manage to come out unscathed (he makes sure of that).

The fact that you still even play his games gives him enough reason to keep pursuing you. Honestly, you’re enabling him at this point. But what else can you do, in order to protect the city you love?

Jervis Tetch:

Twinkle, twinkle, little bird, might you spare him just a word? Why, of what company can bats be to birds? When he has a whole Wonderland at his disposal for you to explore!

Granted, he might have to clip your wings first, just to be on the safe side. But that’s no real matter when he’d gild you a golden cage most worth the sacrifice! If you were to agree, that is.

Needless to say, he’s had his ass handed to him more times than he can count. And yet, something about you just draws him in. He’ll have you yet, little birdie, just you wait.

#ask #dc #batman #gotham rogues #dork squad #jonathan crane #scarecrow #edward nygma #riddler #jervis tetch #mad hatter #headcanons #sfw #angst #robin reader #whoops! this isn't a happy post #Anonymous

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mai-sau · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt "give me attention" for kidnap family?

"haha, im gonna take it easy with prompts this time around, only a few hundred words -" cue spongebob title card "2.3k words later"

seriously tho thank you for the prompt!! (and sorry about the wait!) i had fun working on this one bc well i love any chance to write about this lil family of murderers and tiny bois :') hope u enjoy!!

Prompt: "Give me attention."

“Nelyo.”

“Ne-”

Thump. Maedhros slammed his book shut. A puff of dust wheezed out from the crusty pages; Maglor could make out the swirl of particles flying about in the dim shafts of sunlight peeking into his brother’s study from windows that he was sure were clean at some point in their existence.

Said brother tossed a glare over to Maglor from the other side of his desk.

“You’re allowed to be here. Quietly.” Maedhros threw a pointed look towards the abandoned scroll in Maglor’s hands.

“But I’m so very lonely, Nelyo,” Maglor pouted, and dropped the scroll on the desk. The parchment rolled out towards Maedhros, whose face was fast approaching the same shade as his hair. “Besides, I’ve already taken care of all my correspondence for the day. Nothing much else to do, really, but seek out the company of my darling brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Maedhros grit out, rubbing his temple in terse little circles. Which one of them he was reminding Maglor couldn’t say.

“Only by a few years,” Maglor teased. He let the corners of his lip curl up - he was well aware this made him look like “a cat about to feast on the fattest saucer of milk it’s ever conned” according to his brother, and that was why he did it.

On top of that dusty old book, Maedhros’ fingers twitched. Got you.

“Come on, Nelyo,” he whined. “Give me attentiooon.”

Maedhros threw him a positively hateful look, but Maglor knew he wouldn’t throw him out just yet. By this point, Maglor liked to think he knew his brother well enough.

There were some things he didn’t, of course, and this was fine. When his brother would wake and traipse out to the courtyard in the dead of night, staring at the moon hungrily for hours and hours as if he would never glimpse its light amidst the pitch dark again; when one of the many elves around Amon Ereb would do something wrong - not when one of their craftsmen made the same excited little exclamation as Curvo used to, or hunters fletched their arrows just how Tyelko did, Maglor understood these, at least - but a request phrased too sweetly, an abrupt movement, a smile too wide, and Maedhros’ throat would tighten, his words clipped, before excusing himself to go lock himself in his room for an hour, or two, or three: these parts of his brother Maglor may never know.

But he knew much, or at least enough. A few months after they’d taken in the twins, Maglor had just finished mopping an explosion of jam on the dining floor and sweeping up the shards of what was once the hefty jar that contained it. He’d first gently let Elros know that if they wanted food, they need only ask; he’d then let him know that no, of course they wouldn’t cast him out for breaking the jam jar, with no small amount of tears or internal panic on either end of that conversation.

By the time Maglor slunk into Maedhros’ study that evening to go over reports from around the fortress, he was maybe a bit tired. When Maedhros told him to wait for just a few minutes while he wrapped something or other up, Maglor might’ve let slip a touch of petulance and no small amount of theatrics into his voice when he asked when his dear Nelyo could spare just a moment for his poor baby brother, simply wilting away from the neglect.

Maglor had frozen, fearful of what his second-most severe brother would have to say in response to - well, whining. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself do so. Oh, he’d been quite the brat in Valinor, and used to be quite proud of that fact, thank you. Each and every one of his brothers’ last nerves practically had his name on it. But it seemed ever since they arrived here, it was as if they simply couldn’t afford the waste of time. Ribbing was a favored pastime of his in Aman, but Beleriand offered no such frivolities.

But living with the twins, putting on playful words and coaxing laughter from two young faces that Maglor couldn’t bear to see two seconds from breaking anymore, had apparently loosened his discipline.

He’d thought Maedhros would treat him to one of his signature frowns, barking at him that neither of them had time to make things any harder for each other, but instead he’d… laughed. Just the slightest huff of air, yes, but a laugh nonetheless. Maglor hadn’t heard his brother laugh since…

Well, if anything, he was honoring his cousin’s memory.

So Maglor experimented over the years, let a few more teases and whines slip into his day-to-day interactions with Maedhros. His brother had since mustered a valiant effort to act annoyed, but Maglor could still catch a muffled chuckle or smothered grin here and there.

So. All in all, he’s sure he knows his brother pretty well at this point, and Maedhros was not troubled (bad), just bothered (good).

Which, of course, meant they could continue to play; Maglor would show no mercy.

“Please? Please, please? Just a smidgen of tender love and care from my dearly beloved big brother?” Maglor asked, eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned over the desk. His hair, inky black, spilled all over his scroll.

Maedhros’ nose twitched. His right ear flicked. Oh yes. He was close to a chuckle now, he could tell. His dearly beloved big brother stood no fucking chance.

“Oh dear Eru, let my brother pay attention to - MANWË’S TITS!” Maglor shrieked, springing up from his seat after spotting a dark shadow peeking through the window.

His brother whirled around. Quick as a viper, his hand darted out to grasp the hilt of his sword. Despite this, Maglor could hear a choked noise he was more than halfway certain was the chuckle he had so desperately hunted. Oh well.

A chubby face stared right back at them, eyes round as saucers. Wait, make that two faces.

Both Maglor and Maedhros sagged with relief.

“Elros, can you please come in?” Maglor croaked, feeling five feet to the left of his physical body. “You too, Elrond.”

The two of them nodded bashfully, heads bobbing as they fumbled over to the glass. And they were… flapping. Each twin sported small brown wings on their back, looking much like the falcons Tyelko used to play with as a child. Maglor supposed, thinking of a great bird soaring away over the sea with light itself clutched tight in its talons, maybe they should have expected this one in particular.

Elros pushed once, twice at the windows, tiny arms straining against the pane and looking more panicked by the second. Behind him, Elrond simply pointed to the - oh, the window latch. Yes.

Maedhros stood up and flicked it open. Elros came tumbling through, nearly bashing his skull on the desk before Maedhros caught him midair.

Elrond flew in smoothly and landed on Maglor’s empty chair, wings neatly folding in. Maedhros dumped Elros on his own chair. His wing smacked Maedhros’ arm by mistake.

“We talked about this. No new shapeshifting without me or Maglor there,” Maedhros said, fixing each of them with a stern look.

Both the twins looked down at this. Elrond wrung his little wrists.

“We’re sorry!” Elros burst out, tears welling up in his eyes. “We won’t do it again, promise!”

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart,” Maglor told him.

“And the time before that,” Maedhros grumbled.

“What we’re saying, dear, is that we understand that you’re sorry. But keeping your word has to take first priority,” Maglor explained softly.

Maedhros coughed.

“Or, er, not doing it again,” Maglor corrected. “That’s what counts.”

“We understand,” Elros sniffled. “It’s just, we wanted to hear, but you weren’t there to check with, because well, you were here, and, well, um, yes -”

“Bringing us to the next point of order,” Maedhros rumbled. He raised a brow at both of them. “Eavesdropping. We have also been over this.”

Oh dear. Elros looked like he was about to drown in a puddle of tears. Maglor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades soothingly, careful of the new feathery appendages.

Thankfully, Elrond stepped in. “We remember, it’s not nice because we like to be in private sometimes and it’s not fair for us to not let other people be too,” he recited shyly. “Um, we just… we know you both meet up a lot like this, and we know it's important… but… um…” His lip trembled; his voice cracked. “Do you... talk about us? Do you not want us to hear because it’s bad? Because we can do better!” He promised quickly, eyes wide and wet. “Elros is getting really good at his music lessons, he’s practicing a lot! And I’m working on my writing lessons every day!”

Something in Maglor’s chest twisted. “Oh, honey, no -”

But his brother beat him to the punch. Striding out from behind the desk, he knelt down in front of Elrond. “Can I hug you?” he asked very quietly.

Elrond bit his lip and nodded. Without another word, Maedhros wrapped him up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, Maedhros’ hulking frame wrapped around Elrond’s body, like a drape of russet locks, leather and rich furs. When his brother finally pulled away, he gave a heavy look to both children.

“We will never give you away because you’re not good enough. Alright? You will always be good enough. Both of you,” he told them. He reached out and covered Elrond’s tiny hand with his own, fingers curling around and intertwining. “And not because you’re caught up on your lessons, or do what we say.”

“Though those are certainly nice,” Maglor added. He flashed them a teasing grin before taking care to soften his expression once more, and laid a gentle hand on Elros’ shoulder. “You will always have our love. And nothing, not even the worst jam spill, or missed harp lesson - don’t think I didn’t notice that last week, dearest - can ever reach in and steal it. It is your’s by blood and birthright.”

“Love you,” Elros sniffled. Elrond echoed him, voice no less wobbly.

Maedhros gifted them with a small smile. “Love you both, starlights.”

“And -” Elros started, hiccuped, and continued. “And same for me too. Nothing can change that! I’ll always love you two.”

Maglor felt a pang of sickly guilt invade his chest and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maedhros stiffen.

“Me too,” Elrond said, voice suddenly clear. Maglor glanced at him and met a gaze that seemed years ahead of its time; he froze, rooted to the spot. “We’ll always love you no matter what you do.”

“Well -” Maglor started. “That’s…”

“No need to worry about us,” Maedhros recovered quickly, waving his hand. “Now then, it’s nearing bedtime, hm?”

“But wait!” Elros cried. “What were you two talking about then?”

“Yes! We saw Atya going like this,” Elrond clasped his pudgy hands together and shook them. “And his voice sounded all funny, and then he prayed to Eru about Atar paying more attention to Manwe’s t-”

“ALRIGHT!” Maglor yelped, clapping his hands. His face must’ve been steaming, his cheeks were burning, oh stars - “Bedtime!”

“But we want to know why you were saying all those funny things,” Elros complained loudly. His voice slipped into a high pitched whine, dripping with petulance. “Nelyo, Nelyo, give me attentioooon -”

“I do not sound like that!” Maglor gasped, scooping up a giggling Elrond to be carried to bed.

“I do not sound like that!”

Maglor turned around, gaping. That was not Elros’ voice.

Maedhros stared back. His eyes glinted with mirth and the most shit-eating grin curled his lips. In his arms was a starstruck Elros, who looked no less shocked than if the clouds themselves had just burst into song and danced a lively jig. And quite frankly, Maglor would be less surprised.

Maedhros dealt him one last smirk before twirling on his heel and walking out of the room to go deposit one elfling in his bed. Maglor still had the other, who poked his cheek.

“Atya? Are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Maglor felt a smile grow across his face. His eyes stung with tears. He quickly wiped them with his sleeve before they could fatten and spill over his cheeks and probably make Elrond worry even more.

“Wonderful, dear.” He frowned for a second, considering. “Although I think there is a dreadful amount of mockery in my future.”

He looked down at Elrond. His son merely tilted his round head, offering a blank look. Maglor sighed happily. “But that’s okay.”

XXX

In time, it became clear that there was no need to worry about the looming threat of brotherly teasing paid back in full; Maedhros may have been looser with his laughter, but even this was a rare occasion still. Maglor did not mind, for any time he saw his brother’s eyes alight with anything other than fatal passion was a gift.

The true threat that lurked within Amon Ereb made itself known eventually.

Two weeks later, Maglor was scurrying to meet up with one of the smiths to discuss pending repairs but stopped short in front of a small figure in the courtyard blocking his path.

“Not now, sweetheart, Atya’s very busy,” Maglor told Elrond, harried, ready to flag down someone on the way to attend to whatever his son needed.

And then it happened. Elrond’s face crumpled just so. His eyes widened: big, round, and wet. His lip wobbled. When he opened his mouth, his voice took on a tone so absolutely, horribly pitiful that Maglor half-suspected the echo of Lúthien herself lived in his words.

“Please, Atya,” he begged, every word a death sentence. “Give me attentiooon.”

Oh Eru, Maglor despaired, even as he opened his arms for an evil little elfling to leap into, repairs forgotten. I’ve made a monster.

#this was also my first go at writing more humor #but the hurt/comfort managed to sneak in #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #my writing #writing prompts #fic #jaz-the-bard

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cowboymirio · 4 years ago

Text

They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake!

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up.

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’)

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY??

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them) flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now.

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh

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qitwrites · 3 years ago

Text

a numbers game

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Kiribaku

(AO3)

Bakugou knows his personality and general rage-filled disposition towards everything, in general, isn’t winning him any favours, but the texts have made him contemplate just how shitty he must’ve been in a past life to deserve a fate like this.

Because no one - and Bakugou knows such assholes as Monoma - but no one deserves to be on the receiving end of unsolicited dick pics. From random numbers. At all times of the day. For the last 3ish months.

“I am going to throw my phone out the fucking window, I swear on all that is good and pure, fucking bull-“

“More dick pics?” Camie interrupts with a wide grin, plucking the phone out of Bakugou’s hand.

“What the fuck else?” Bakugou snaps, trying to pull his phone back in vain. Camie holds it just out of reach, eyeing the disgusting penis with a critical stare.

"Hmm,” she says, passing the phone back to him before taking a sip of her terrible grass juice that smells like a badly mowed golf course, “the lighting is bad and he hasn’t done like, any grooming at all. 3/10.”

“You’re being generous,” Bakugou huffs, deleting the picture immediately and swallowing the still raging urge to fling his phone at the nearest wall. “It’s unsolicited. And his fingernails are fucking filthy. -100/10.”

Camie rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic again Kitkat.”

Bakugou counts to 10 in his head, tries to find that last shred of patience he knows is somewhere deep in his dark pit of a soul and breathes out in a rush.

“I need to fucking figure this out before I actually lose it and track down one of these fuckers and choke the life out of them.”

Because here’s the thing- Bakugou has been receiving dick pics and dirty text messages like hi bby want sex? and imma dick you down gud boo – he’s positively swooning, what a lovely way to be wooed – and he has no idea how to stop it. Yes, he could cancel his number and get a new one, but all of his bank details are linked to this one. He’s had it since he first got a phone in middle school, and now all of his documents are attached to the damn thing. The very idea of going to the banks and the DMV and every other stupid establishment to get it changed makes him grimace hard enough that he decides to bear with it.

Except, every time he receives one of these horrible pictures, his urge to blow up the phone, nay, the entire world, simmers at dangerous levels.

“Cool it kitkat,” Camie croons, giving his forearm a squeeze, “you’re making your homicidal face. That cannot be good for wrinkles.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Bakugou grunts, flinging his phone away carelessly and watching it skitter around on the kitchen counter before halting dangerously close to the edge. “I just want it to stop.”

Camie puts her atrocity for a drink down and pulls the fridge open, rummaging around as she says, “I have a theory about all this.” She pulls out a jar of jalapenos and places it in front of Bakugou. The blonde yanks a fork out of the admittedly cute utensil bucket in the middle of their counter before snapping the lid off and spearing a good 3 pieces in one go. He chews on them slowly and directs a raised brow at Camie.

“Well,” she muses, picking her drink back up, “as a woman that receives a LOT of numbers from guys and gals and non-binary folks alike-“ Bakugou makes it a point to roll his eyes hard enough to knock his head back; Camie’s laughter is loud and boisterous “- I have a tactic for when I don’t know how to say no and don’t want to give my digits.”

Bakugou has another forkful of jalapenos in his mouth when he narrows his eyes at her.

Camie shrugs, “I usually change the very last digit of my number. Works like a charm. I never meet the person again, and they can’t contact me. Win-win.”

“Win-win my ass,” Bakugou seethes. “Do I look like I’m winning right now? I am this fucking close to killing someone, because of stupid tactics like yours.”

Camie finishes the last of her drink, and speaks around her straw, “You say that, but do you know how many people, and especially dudes, don’t take no for an answer? The only reason I give out any digits at all is when I can’t guarantee my safety. I know it’s not like, the perfect solution or anything, but I’m giving you facts right now.”

And Bakugou does, in fact, know that. He’s met those pushy assholes- people that don’t back down, people that don’t take no at face value, people that push and prod and get up in his space. It pisses him off to absolutely no end.

“Whatever,” he concedes. He spears another forkful of jalapenos before grumbling, “So, what the fuck do I do?”

Camie grins, minx like. “Why don’t you text the number one ahead and one behind your own and ask? I mean, in the best-case scenario you figure it out and get it all to stop, in the worst case, you get to yell at like random people. Isn’t that your second favourite pastime, right after yelling at that pigeon outside our balcony, the one with an agenda?”

“Don’t talk about that fucking pigeon,” Bakugou fumes, “fucking piece of shit bird and those dark, robotic eyes. Something is up with that; you can’t convince me otherwise.” He mulls over the rest of her suggestion before relenting, “Well, I guess I could spare a moment to yell at the fucking extras giving out my number to perverts with no manners and gross penises.”

“I find it so funny when you say the word manners,” Camie says as she walks to her room, “It’s almost like you know what it means!”

She isn’t even looking at him, but she manages to dodge the jalapeno that sails at her head. It hits the wall with a sick squelch, and when Bakugou hears Camie’s door shut, he drops his head on the counter with a loud, resounding thunk and muffles a scream into the marble.

He forgets to send out those texts, and when he receives yet another picture, not three days later, of someone holding their disgusting penis in their hand, like it’s an accomplishment or some shit, he sends out a text message to two different numbers typed with shaky, sweaty fingers.

>> xxx-xxx-xxx6 , xxx-xxx-xxx4

I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you don’t know me, but it’s possible that one of you assholes gives out my number to random people who, in turn, send me fucking dick pics. It’s been over 3 fucking months, so knock it the actual fuck off. And in case it isn’t you, fuck you anyway.

Bakugou wakes up from a restless sleep to sunlight sloping in through the blinds of his room, a dry mouth, and three new text messages from an unknown number.

Because his brain takes time to boot up in the mornings, he foregoes the phone entirely and makes his way to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Camie is always up before him, and he gratefully pours himself a mug of her insanely strong black coffee, the kind to palpitate your heart and make you vibrate in your seat. She calls it jet fuel, Inasa calls it death, Todoroki just blinks.

When he’s half a mug down, he finally retrieves his phone from his room and takes a seat in the balcony, surrounded by plants of all kinds. The sun is bright but not harsh, and he takes a second to enjoy it before opening his messages.

He doesn’t even recall sending the messages last night, and for a moment he’s enraged at the idea that someone sent him even more dick pics, but there’s no photos waiting for him, just three messages.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 omg omg OMG I didn’t think anyone actually used this number im sorry D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 no really im so so sorry holy shit I was just following this idea that my friend gave me cause im terrible at turning people down but I didn’t realize they were messaging an actual other person OMG

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ofc I wont be giving your number out anymore im just so sorry bro, god, this is so damn UNMANLY of me

At least the person has the decency to sound apologetic. Not that it tempers Bakugou in any way, shape or form, but he takes note of it somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind.

Bakugou you better not give it out anymore fuckmunch. I should sue your ass for putting me under so much psychological distress.

The guy replies startlingly quickly. Bakugou opens the message with a quirked brow.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 shit can you actually do that?

Bakugou has no idea, but the key to selling anything is confidence, and he’s got enough to spare.

Bakugou try me

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM REALLY REALLY SORRY OK TRULY D:

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and not just cuz you might sue me or anything, it was a terrible move on my part :’(

xxx-xxx-xxx4 can I make it up to you somehow??

Bakugou huffs, deflating a little. He’s angry yes, positively incensed for the most part, but the guy sounds genuinely sorry, and he’s finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at someone that’s just being so damn decent and taking full responsibility.

Bakugou I don’t fucking know.

Bakugou just stop giving out my no.

Bakugou I swear to god if I get ONE MORE NUDE

Bakugou I will find you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you don’t have to find me ill come to you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 cuz ill def deserve it at that point

xxx-xxx-xxx4 anyway, im sorry again. really ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get some sleep, so tell me later about how I can make it up to you!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 goodnight

Bakugou checks the clock at the top left corner of his phone screen. It reads 8:31am.

What the fuck does this guy do for work anyway? And does Bakugou care?

He decides no, he doesn’t, because he’s really too busy to care about anything, especially assholes that hand out his number to horny strangers because they’re too chickenshit to say no.

He nods at his own conclusion, downs the rest of his death-in-a-cup, and walks back inside, ready to start another long day of work. Bakugou gives himself an hour before he puts this all behind him, fully forgotten and finally taken care of.

Why the fuck haven’t I blocked this fucker yet, is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he gets more texts from them.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 heyyo!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 did you think of anything????? How can I make it up to you??

Bakugou stop texting me, that’ll be a great start

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I will as soon as u tell me how to make it up to you!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I was being so unmanly and cowardly, I need to fix it!!

Bakugou good for fucking you, leave me alone

xxx-xxx-xxx4 y don’t you keep thinking abt it and lemme know !!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 if it helps, I can hook u up with some free drinks!! I co-own and bartend at a place downtown!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just think abt it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I gotta get back to work, talk soon!

Bakugou stop texting me dammit

Bakugou isn’t a naïve person, but he somehow convinces himself that this will be the end of things.

It is, predictably, not the end of things.

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I just realized I didn’t give u my name

xxx-xxx-xxx4 Kirishima eijirou!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and you are?

Bakugou blocking you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 aww come on man, don’t be like tht ☹

xxx-xxx-xxx4 wait, r u a man?????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME THAT I DON’T WANT TO MISGENDER U OMG

Bakugou can you calm the fuck down holy shit

Bakugou yes I’m a dude, you’re fucking fine dumbass

xxx-xxx-xxx4 oh phew!!!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ok my dude

xxx-xxx-xxx4 please come down to the bar??????

xxx-xxx-xxx4 do you actually drink though?? If you don’t we still have great mocktails

xxx-xxx-xxx4 and I can whip up some awesome protein shakes

xxx-xxx-xxx4 ohhh and our food is bomb,,, I promise

Bakugou do you ever just stop talking

xxx-xxx-xxx4 NOPE :D

Bakugou Not a compliment

xxx-xxx-xxx4 what can I say

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im an opportunist

Bakugou you’re telling me

Bakugou fucker

xxx-xxx-xxx4 IM STILL SO SORRY

xxx-xxx-xxx4 PLEASE COME TO THE BAR LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU

xxx-xxx-xxx4 actions speak hella louder than words

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I must action you

Bakugou what the fuck

xxx-xxx-xxx4 you get what I mean!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 <location> this is the place

xxx-xxx-xxx4 its name is RIOT, u cant miss it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 just lemme know when u can make it

Bakugou I haven’t agreed to shit asshole

Bakugou stop assuming things

xxx-xxx-xxx4 free food, free drinks, free live performance of whatever band’s performing

Bakugou …………………

Bakugou I’ll think about it

xxx-xxx-xxx4 HELL YEAH

xxx-xxx-xxx4 whats your name btw?

Bakugou like id tell you

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I need it for the reservation!!!!

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so that I don’t accidentally serve the wrong gentleman all your free perks

Bakugou didn’t say im coming yet

xxx-xxx-xxx4 im super optimistic

Bakugou I can tell, you’re giving me a headache

xxx-xxx-xxx4 so………… name?

Bakugou no

xxx-xxx-xxx4 I’ll get it out of you eventually

Bakugou try me

Bakugou fucker

If Bakugou finds himself smiling at the end of the exchange, well, that’s his business.

“So, you finally figured out who was responsible for the penis pictures?” Todoroki deadpans around his cosmo.

“That’s wonderful Bakugou!” Inasa booms, slamming his beer down on the counter with gusto. Bakugou throws a spoon at him.

“Shut it Baldy,” he grunts, going back to chopping veggies. “And yes, I did, but now this fucker won’t stop texting me, insisting on making it up to me or some shit.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Todoroki summarizes slowly. Bakugou turns around in time to see him mouth why to Inasa before taking another generous sip of his drink. Inasa shrugs his stupidly large shoulders before asking, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Bakugou throws another spoon at him. “Because, I texted them so I could stop people from texting me. Now this person’s volunteering information to me about being a bartender and shit and constantly apologizing and it’s fucking annoying.”

“You know what’s interesting?” Camie muses, stirring her bloody mary with a long ass celery stick. “You’re getting all these text messages from this bartender, and you can like, so easily block this one number and be done with it, but you like, keeping responding. And keep, you know, not blocking.”

He can’t see it, but he knows Todoroki is nodding, the fucker.

“That is a good observation!” Inasa booms again, and Bakugou has to resist the urge to fling his entire cutlery set at the man’s thick skull. “Do you like this person Bakugou?”

“What’s there to like, I don’t even fucking know him!”

“Well,” Camie starts, takes a bite out of the celery stick, continues, “he’s well-mannered. Clearly good looking, because you got a LOT of penis pictures these past three months, and that also leads us to believe the business is doing really well, if so many patrons come in begging for a number. All good things, don’t you think?”

“I hate you,” Bakugou says, stirring the curry with barely repressed rage. “I hate all of you. I hate humanity. Fuck people.”

“Or fuck this person in specific,” Camie says gleefully. “You haven’t gotten laid in like 8 months boo, you need to get some.”

“You’re the actual fucking worst.”

“In all seriousness,” Todoroki interrupts, putting his empty glass down delicately, “why haven’t you blocked the number? It seems like an easy enough solution.” The asshole has the audacity to sound genuinely curious, if not slightly amused.

Bakugou hates everything.

“I don’t, I don’t fucking know, ok?” He finally admits through clenched teeth. The blonde kills the heat and places the curry on the counter while Camie brings out the rice and some pickled vegetables from the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off before handing it to Bakugou, who snatches it away and takes a quick swig before continuing, “He’s actually kinda nice to me, I guess. And I like watching him be so sorry about all those penises. I may have also mentioned suing him for psychological distress.” Bakugou catches Todoroki’s gaze. “Can I do that?”

Todoroki hums, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ve got that solid a case. Plus, haven’t you deleted virtually all the evidence?”

Bakugou grips the neck of his beer bottle harder. “I fucking hate everything.”

bartender asshole <image attached>

Bakugou what the fuck

Bakugou why are you sending me cat pics?

Bakugou also that cat is stupidly cute

bartender asshole I know right?????

bartender asshole her name is ruby

bartender asshole and id die for her

bartender asshole i just figured ud be a cat person

Bakugou ………….

Bakugou I hate u

bartender asshole :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou Bakugou Katsuki

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

bartender asshole HI BAKUGOU SO NICE TO KNOW UR NAME

Bakugou I hate everything

bartender asshole except ruby. Its not allowed

Bakugou …………………………………

Bakugou except ruby

bartender asshole :D :D :D :D :D

Kirishima, it turns out, is a ray of fucking sunshine. Bakugou has a distinct feeling that looking at him directly would be a blinding experience.

Not that he knows who to look for though; he has no idea what this guy looks like. He guesses that he’s buff, with all the times he tells Bakugou about the gym showers running out of hot water and beating his best weights doing bench presses, but he knows nothing else.

He does know that he’s sweet as fuck, making it impossible for Bakugou to stay mad at him. He doesn’t blink at Bakugou’s cussing, and he sends him cute pictures of Ruby.

There is a part of him, small but steadily growing, that wants to meet this stupidly nice bartender.

Bakugou hates everything.

dumbass bartender so what do you do???

Bakugou front-end development and web design

dumbass bartender oh damn!!!

dumbass bartender so youre like smart smart

Bakugou obviously

dumbass bartender have I seen your work anywhere??

Bakugou I recently redid the website of that protein powder company you don’t shut up about

dumbass bartender ????????????????????

dumbass bartender that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!

dumbass bartender I just revisited the website, it looks so cool

Bakugou duh

Bakugou im the best

dumbass bartender I don’t doubt that!!! :D :D

Bakugou don’t you have work?

dumbass bartender aww bakubro are you looking out for me <3 <3

Bakugou call me that again and I will fucking end you

dumbass bartender before the free drinks??? That you are yet to redeem? ?? at my wonderful establishment?????????? :D :D :D

Bakugou I hate everything.

dumbass bartender D:

Bakugou except RUBY DAMMIT

dumbass bartender :D

“Just to recap,” Kaminari says with an incredulous look in his eyes, “this guy cusses like a sailor, is constantly insulting you, never initiates conversation, and you still like him?”

Kirishima’s answering grin is bashful. “I mean, when you put it like that it sounds not so great, but he’s really not that bad! He’s super funny and confident, and he LOVES Ruby. Plus, I don’t like him like that, I just think he’s cool.” Kirishima picks up another glass from the washer and starts carefully drying it with his dishcloth before saying, “And, you know, I did put him through a lot by giving out his number. His behaviour is kinda warranted if you ask me.”

“I mean, in the beginning maybe, but haven’t you guys been texting for over a week now?”

“Denki, are you forgetting that giving out another number was your idea?” Kirishima mutters, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

Kaminari suddenly seems to find the glass in his hand a lot more interesting. Kirishima’s laugh echoes around the empty bar.

‘What’s so funny?” Ashido muses, bringing a crate of bottled beer behind the counter.

“Kirishima is going gaga over angry dick pic man.”

“I’m not going gaga, what the heck-“

“I think it’s cute,” Ashido says with a big smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually be interested in somebody; it’s really cute!”

“I don’t like him like that,” Kirishima stresses, though his cheeks are a little warm. He can blame that on the lack of air conditioning, he thinks.

“We talking about angry dick pic man?” Sero asks with a shit-eating grin. “10 bucks say he’s actually a middle-aged guy with a cheese fetish.”

“That’s so random-“

“You’re on!” Ashido yells, slapping her hand into Sero’s. “I think he’ll be a hottie.”

“He hasn’t even said he’ll come,” Kirishima says, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come,” the three chorus, going about doing their tasks. Kirishima shakes his head fondly and finishes up with the glasses. Just as he’s put all the shot glasses away, he feels his phone vibrate.

Bakubro just finished a massive project

Bakubro could use a drink this weekend

Bakubro know any good spots?

Kirishima’s face breaks into the biggest smile as he rushes to answer.

Kirishima I know a bar that serves free drinks with your name on it!!!!

Kirishima amazing food, dope music, the bestest drinks

Kirishima ive heard the bartender is a great guy too

Bakubro way to toot your own fucking horn damn

Kirishima :DDDDD

Kirishima bt seriously

Kirishima please? ???? ??

Kirishima PLEASEEEEEEEEE??????????????????

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro fine.

Bakubro Friday night at 8

Kirishima looks up from the screen and calls out, “Denki!”

“Yeah?”

“Switch shifts with me, I’ll do Friday.”

“Um, ok, why though?”

Kirishima doesn’t respond, just goes back to texting, his heart thudding in his ribcage.

Kirishima YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Kirishima cant wait :D

Bakubro I’m bringing my stupid friends btw

Kirishima wait

Kirishima you have friends???????

Bakubro I am going to end you

Bakubro you know what? Fuck you im not coming

Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

Kirishima IM SORRY OFC U HAVE FRNDS

Kirishima please come

Kirishima how big a table should I reserve????

Bakubro don’t bother

Kirishima IM SORRRYYYYYYYYYY

Kirishima <image attached> <image attached> <image attached>

Bakubro bastard

Bakubro you playing dirty by sending me pics of Ruby

Kirishima need to weaken your guard somehow

Kirishima pls tell me it worked

Bakubro ugh

Bakubro ill be there

Bakubro reserve a table for 4

Bakubro your stupid bar better be worth it

Kirishima I promise it will be!!!!

Kirishima whoops in joy, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks up to see three sets of eyes looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

“You get a really mushy look on your face when you’re texting him, it’s almost gross,” Sero points out with a laugh.

“Hush you,” Ashido admonishes, whipping her dishcloth at him. She walks over to Kirishima and gives him a big hug. “I think it’s very, very precious.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s coming this Friday!” Kirishima beams, holding Ashido closer against his side.

The three giggle.

“10 bucks say Kirishima messes up the drinks at least once.”

“HEY!”

Ashido squeezes around his middle. “Hon, I love you, but I’m not dumb enough to go against that.”

“HEY!”

They end up laughing and fibbing at each other for the rest of the prep time, and Kirishima feels his heart absolutely soar.

Friday brings with it crunch time, running lines and lines of code, having a mini-breakdown because the stupid text block keeps floating around on the webpage like it’s in outer fucking space, being forced into one of Camie’s ridiculous vlogs and having an existential crisis about what to wear on a non-date get-together with the guy that ruined Bakugou’s life for close to three months.

Camie spends most of the day laughing at him. Bakugou throws more condiments at her.

“Fucking help me at least, you useless wench,” Bakugou growls, shifting to clothes as he throws a pair of jeans at her. Camie dances out of the way and doubles over, laughing till she tears up from the force of it all.

“I can’t, I just can’t,” she wheezes. “Did you just say wench? What era are you from babe?”

“FUCK OFF,” he roars, leaping towards her. Camie shrieks and ducks away, making a beeline towards his closet.

“Ok, ok, let’s get you dressed! What kinda look are you trying for?”

“Fuck if I know,” he grouses, feeling oddly out of his depth. He wants to look good, but he has no idea for what.

That’s a lie, he knows why. He just won’t admit it.

“Well, why don’t we pick something simple but flattering? Plus, if it's in your style, you’re bound to be more comfy.” Camie pulls out a pair of black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a black fitted round-neck tee shirt, and some black boots. While he’s changing, Camie pulls out a silver chain, some bands for his wrists and a collection of rings.

“Do you want me to do your eyes?” she offers, holding up some mascara and an eye pencil. Bakugou shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. Camie’s smile is soft as she stands between his thighs, gently but efficiently applying his make-up. When she’s done, he walks over to the mirror to look at himself, and he has to admit- he looks good. Always one to take care of his body and his figure, Bakugou is lean muscle packed into a 5’10” body. His blonde hair is as messy as ever, but the combination of his make-up, the accessories and his clothes give him an edgy look like no other. Camie throws a dark fitted jacket at him before sauntering over to her own room.

He continues to reply to some work emails when his phone buzzes.

dumbass cant wait to see you!!!

dumbass just ask for me at the bar

dumbass or I might be the one to greet you!! :D :D

Bakugou I know dumbass

Bakugou what, are you nervous or some shit?

dumbass I mean, kinda????

dumbass it’s our first time meeting afterall

dumbass I don’t even know wat you look like!!!!

Bakugou blonde wearing all black

dumbass redhead wearing a shirt with the riot logo!

Bakugou whatever

Bakugou ill be there at 8

Dumbass cant wait <33333

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou scoffs, his own nerves calming at the thought that he’s not the only one that’s a bit out of sorts. It’s nice to know that sunshine Kirishima is jittery about all this.

Also, interesting to know that he’s a redhead. Bakugou can’t quite imagine it, but in a few minutes, he won't need to.

His stomach roils with anticipation, and Bakugou hates every single thing.

Camie pops out of her room at half-past 7 in a maroon romper that cuts above her mid-thigh, hair done in a loose bun, makeup absolutely perfect. Her heels put her at a height taller than Bakugou, but he’s gotten used to being the shortest in their stupid posse. Doesn’t piss him off any less though.

She gets a phone call just as she pushes a tube of lip gloss into her purse.

“We are downstairs!” Inasa’s voice rings through her speaker, stupidly loud.

“Can it, baldy,” Bakugou grunts with a roll of his eyes, “we’ll be there in a sec.”

“See ya!”

Before Bakugou can usher Camie out the door, she pushes her clutch into his hands and walks over to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Wha-“

“Liquid courage, my dude,” she says, pouring two generous shots and pushing one at Bakugou. She picks her own glass up and gives him a devilish smirk, “Bottoms up bitch!”

Bakugou picks the glass up with a resigned sigh but smirks back equally devilish. They cheers, smack the glasses against the counter and drain them smoothly. Camie puts the glasses in the sink, places a smacking kiss on Bakugou’s cheek and laughs brightly as she dances out of the way of his rage.

They finally load up in Inasa’s range rover, Todoroki plays classical Japanese music over the speakers and Bakugou regrets everything.

Riot is apparently something of a beloved establishment in its neighbourhood, and Bakugou growls when he sees how long the line leading to the bar is.

“Holy moly, that’s a lot of people!” Camie points out helpfully as she disembarks from the car.

Todoroki straightens his two-tone denim jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he says, “We have a reservation, so I think it’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I agree with you Todoroki,” Inasa beams, locking the car behind him as they walk towards the building. The outside is made of exposed brick and neon lights, and the RIOT sign is a deep red colour, eye-catching and beautiful.

They bypass the people in the line and walk up to the bouncer, who eyes them warily. He’s built like an absolute tank, broad and block-like, and his silver hair shines in the artificial light.

“Can I help you?”

“Bakugou, table for 4,” Camie says cheerily. The bouncer looks immediately enamoured with her before his eyes go wide.

“Wait, Eijirou’s Bakugou?”

Bakugou’s ears burn at that.

“I’m not fucking anybody’s!” he snaps. The bouncer immediately looks at him, and his face breaks into an even wider grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Can I see some ID real quick?”

Bakugou cusses colourfully under his breath but pulls out his license, and after a quick check, the bouncer, whose name is Tetsutetsu, steps aside to let them in.

“Have a good time!” he says happily, almost too happily. Bakugou feels his hackles rise.

“What the fuck?”

“It appears that Kirishima talks about you at least as much as you talk about him,” Todoroki observes, walking next to Bakugou.

“I don’t talk about him, fuck you!”

Todoroki’s delicately raised brow makes him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably both.

“Fuck you all,” he reiterates before stomping inside.

Now, Bakugou is a relatively creative soul – his job kinda demands it – so it’s not his fault that he’s actually quite captivated by the interiors of this stupidly popular bar co-owned by a stupidly nice person.

The inside has exposed brick as well, and most of the furniture seems to be retro. There are large pipes and barrels behind the bar, made of what seems to be pure copper. Black marble covers the bar tops, and the lights are a mix of neon and muted whites, bright enough to see but still bathing the room in an alluring aura. There’s music thumping through the speakers, loud enough to dispel any silence but still at a bearable volume.

“Swanky,” Camie whistles, taking it all in.

Bakugou nods begrudgingly before setting his eyes on the bar.

“I’ll go get us a fucking table,” he mutters before walking over, hands digging deep into his pant pockets. He sees a lanky black-haired guy and a girl with tan skin and pink hair behind the bar, talking animatedly with the patrons as they serve them drinks at a dizzying pace.

When he finally gets a spot at the counter, the pink-haired girl finishes up with a customer and bounds over to him.

“Hi,” she greets, smile wide and happy, “haven’t seen you around before! What can I get you?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou says because apparently, his brain to mouth filter has decided to abandon him in his time of need. The girl tilts her head in confusion and Bakugou feels the life drain out of him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m fuckin here because of dumbass Kirishima,” Bakugou barely grits out, fingers digging into his palms painfully. “The name is Bakugou, table for 4?”

He sees it all in slow-mo- the way her mouth goes slack, the way her eyes light up like firecrackers on New Year’s, and then the way her smile becomes positively blinding. He hates her already.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, “of course! So glad you’re here! Oye, Sero?”

“What?” the black-haired guy says without looking, topping up a perfectly poured glass of beer.

“You owe me 10 bucks.”

This gets his attention- he hands the drink off and looks at her, “Why would I-“

The girl just gestures at Bakugou and winks, “It’s him.”

Sero – or plain face, Bakugou’s brain helpfully supplies – immediately looks at him, his eyes widening. “Shit, seriously? Aw, man.” His smile becomes mischievous. “I’ll get Kirishima.” He opens the door behind the bar and disappears.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou snaps, beyond irritated to be so out of the loop.

“Nothing, nothing,” Pinky sings, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “Kirishima will show your party to your table. Do you want anything in the meantime?”

“… a beer,” Bakugou concedes because he’s not dumb enough to not get a drink before he sees Kirishima if he can help it.

“Coming right up!”

He waits at the bar, watching as his group of dumbasses ooh and ahh at the place, looking delighted. A bottle of cold beer hits the counter with a satisfying thunk, bringing his attention back to the bartop.

“Enjoy!” Pinky still has a stupid smile on her face but before Bakugou can say anything, the door behind her is thrown open and plain face steps out.

“The restocking can wait, literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last 3 days is finally happening.”

The guy following him is all tanned skin and thick muscles under a fitted deep red tee shirt. His hair is a bright unnatural red, pulled into a high pony with a few strands still framing his face. His eyes are a softer red than Bakugou’s own, his cheeks sharp and high, and when his eyes meet Bakugou’s, a zip of electricity races down his spine and along his limbs till he can feel it in his toes.

When the man makes his way over, Bakugou also notes how damn tall he is- easily around 6’4”. His smile is shy, and he smells like sandalwood.

“Bakugou, hi,” he breathes, hesitantly holding his hand out. Bakugou takes it in a daze, still amazed by just how stupidly beautiful this stupidly kind bar owner is.

“Heyyo, you disappeared fam, how’s it going?”

Bakugou hates everything.

He reluctantly slips his hand out of Kirishima’s warm, firm grip and turns to Camie with venomous eyes. “I literally just met him Cam, shut the fuck up.” He turns back to Kirishima, “Can you show us to our table?”

Kirishima shakes his head once before his smile turns blinding, and Bakugou finds himself fighting the urge to shield his eyes. “Of course,” he says in a voice that’s deep and warm and honey-like, “right this way!”

Bakugou snags his beer off the counter and takes a quick swig before Camie steals it and takes a few sips of her own. He growls at her but otherwise behaves, watching Kirishima’s back as he leads them through throngs of people engaged in cheerful conversation.

“Ok, well, he’s hot,” Cam says around the lip of the bottle. “Total beefcake. Whaddya think, boo?”

“I think you should fuck off,” Bakugou hisses, his face burning.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you probably shouldn’t have invited us,” Todoroki says, taking the offered bottle from Camie.

Before Bakugou can explode in their faces, Kirishima stops and turns around. “Here ya go!” He gestures to a table behind him, tucked into a more private corner of the bar. It’s large and cushy, and when Bakugou gets in after Camie, he’s surprised at how soft the material is.

“So?” Kirishima says, eyes trained on Bakugou.

“Fuckin what?” Bakugou snaps, voice lacking any heat.

Kirishima laughs, head thrown back to reveal a long, thick neck and Bakugou is so damn weak.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue before gesturing at each of them, “Camie, marketing expert by day, YouTube beauty vlogger by night, pain in my ass always. Todoroki, environmental lawyer and a soba obsessed weirdo. Inasa, physiotherapist and resident dumbass.”

Kirishima gives them all a wave before saying, “Kirishima, co-owner of Riot and the reason why Bakugou saw more unwarranted penises than strictly necessary in a lifetime.”

“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbles, earning him another laugh and a bashful hand ruffling the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Still so sorry about that man,” Kirishima offers, “everything’s definitely on the house for you all! Speaking of ordering-“ Kirishima moves on to explain their ordering system-

“You can scan the code with your camera app,” the redhead says, pointing at the barcode on the centrepiece of their table, “and it pulls up our bar and food menu. Just enter your order and your table number,” he points at the large digits on the side that glows a bright 15 back at them.

Inasa pulls his phone out to order. Before he leaves, Kirishima says, “Can I get your drink order before I go?”

Camie asks for a LIIT, Inasa gets a Soju bomb and Todoroki starts off with his usual- a cosmo.

“You good on that beer?” Kirishima asks Bakugou warmly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, sliding lower into his seat. “Maybe get me another, your choice?”

“Coming right up,” Kirishima beams before stepping away, and Bakugou’s heart splutters around his chest at the sight of sharp white teeth and cheek-aching grins.

“He’s so cute!” Camie squeals, stealing the last of his beer. “And he’s totes into you too.”

“I have to agree, he’s very attractive,” Todoroki says impassively.

“Certified hottie,” Inasa rounds up, flashing his own biceps for some reason.

Bakugou is so done, and they’ve been here all 5 minutes.

��Kirishim- Kirishima, the beer is overflowing,” Ashido says, pushing him away and taking over. “God, you’re so gone for him, it’s almost embarrassing.”

Kirishima snaps out of his stupor and moves to take the glass back. Ashido hip checks him away.

“You’re being a little stupid, go help Satou with plating and take the food to lover boy’s table.”

“He has a name, you know,” Kirishima mumbles, but Ashido simply laughs, and Kirishima feels his neck and ears go warm.

Because who let Bakugou walk into his bar looking like that? Looking so damn gorgeous in his all-black get up and his perfect eye make-up and that fierce scowl?

Kirishima’s heart had pretty much stopped at the sight of him, and it was yet to regain its usual rhythm.

The redhead rests his forehead against the wall and mumbles, “I’m so screwed.”

“We know buddy,” Sero says, patting his back sympathetically, “we know.”

For all that Bakugou hates outings and people and outings in places filled with people, he finds himself having a moderately good time.

Because the food is delicious if lacking a little heat, the alcohol is mixed perfectly and the music is fantastic, filtering through old rock classics with some alt stuff mixed in.

And then there’s Kirishima- tending the bar with ease, laughing along with his co-workers, and sending Bakugou wide, happy smiles that sets his entire face on fire.

“This place is awesome,” Camie whoops, banging another shot glass on the table before knocking it back with ease. Todoroki joins her, his impassive face not so much as twitching at the taste of strong tequila before he bites into a lime. Inasa is already beer drunk, cheeks dusky as he hums along to the music.

“Insufferable,” Bakugou mumbles around his 4th-ish beer. He likes to keep up his grumpy act till his last shred of dignity melts away cause of the alcohol, and he’s probably pretty hit already because he lets Camie pull him into her side with her arm around his shoulder, his nose suddenly privy to the scent of her mellow perfume.

“I love you guys,” Camie beams, picking up her beer and waving it in front of her. Todoroki and Inasa clink their drinks against it, and Bakugou silently waves his own bottle around before downing it.

“You guys good on- oh my god, are you Camie? THE Camie?”

It’s Pinky at their table and her eyes are so comically wide that Bakugou can’t help his snort of laughter. He feels Camie straighten up, but her arm around him stays, holding him close.

“Define THE Camie,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“The beauty blogger that I’ve only been following for the last 3 years, holy shit I love your videos.” And then suddenly, her eyes narrow on Bakugou before she snaps her fingers. “NO WONDER YOU LOOK FAMILIAR! You’re the angry blonde in all her videos!”

“Haan? You wanna go pinky?” Bakugou growls, moving to stand up. Camie keeps him firmly by her side, her laughter shaking them both.

“That’s us!” Camie says. Bakugou finally fights his way out of her grip and throws her a withering look, or his drunken attempt at one anyway. She winks, and he fake gags. “I don’t get recognized in public all that often LOL, this is fun.”

“Did you just say LOL in a verbal fucking conversation?”

“What do you mean you don’t get recognized; you literally have like 3.2million subscribers.”

Camie ignores Bakugou and shrugs at Pinky. “I guess my primary demographic aint here fam. Speaking of which,” she thrusts her hand out, “what’s your name?”

“Ashido Mina,” she says, taking her hand firmly. Camie introduces her to the others, and Bakugou looks back at the bar, disappointed to see that he can’t find Kirishima.

“Can I top you guys off?” Kirishima says, suddenly right next to their table, effectively startling the shit outta Bakugou.

Camie chirps an affirmative, Todoroki asks for a water and checks to see if Inasa’s breathing as the big olf continues to sleep, curled up in the corner of the booth.

“And you Bakubro?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bakugou frowns before adding, “I should probably stop, I’m already kinda tipsy.”

“Lightweight,” Camie teases.

Bakugou gives her the stink eye. “Woman, the one time I tried keeping up with you, I ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and you didn’t have so much as a hangover, so fuck off.”

“Seriously?” Kirishima says, eyes wide.

“That’s amazing,” Ashido murmurs, her smile crooked and dangerous.

Bakugou. Hates. Everything.

“He had no lasting liver damage, we’re all fine,” Camie reassures before diving into a conversation with Mina about beauty hacks and good mascara brands and global warming.

Kirishima leans close to Bakugou, bathing him in that warm sandalwood scent. “How about I get you some water and one last beer? A Hefeweizen?”

Bakugou turns to look at him, and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how close they are, when he sees just how red Kirishima’s eyes are, how the heat seems to radiate off his skin. He exhales in a rush and looks away, answering with a jerky nod.

Kirishima gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze – he’s so warm, his hand is fucking huge – before walking to the bar and picking their stuff up.

When pinky finally meanders away from their table to serve other customers, Camie leans her head on Bakugou’s shoulder and says, “We’ll leave soon, ok?”

Bakugou nods again, leaning some of his weight back into her. Todoroki catches his eye and flashes him a warm, tipsy smile, and if he returns it with one of his own, well, he’s drunk out of his skull and has approximately no fucks to give.

Long after putting Bakugou and his posse in a cab, before which they insisted on paying pretty much the entire tab since they ate and drank a LOT, Kirishima and the rest are cleaning up when Ashido whips him with her cleaning rag.

Kirishima looks at her with betrayed eyes, “Wha-“

“Ei, you better text him again.”

“About what?” Kirishima says glumly. “I did what I said I would do, and I promised to leave him alone after that.”

“Boy please,” Ashido scoffs, roughly wiping down one of the tables, “ya’ll made such gooey eyes at each other all night, plus I’m pretty sure he paid the entire tab just so you could keep up whatever façade you guys have going on to cover up the fact that you have INSANE chemistry with one another.”

“Yeah, the tension was palpable bro,” Sero chimes in, throwing an arm around his waist. “I think you should text him too. He seemed really amusing, and his whole group was a riot.”

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the pun but smiles at them, feeling a new burst of energy in his limbs.

“You guys are absolutely right! Worst case, he blocks me. At least I won’t have any regrets.”

“Yeah boy, get it with that optimism.”

Bakugou wakes up to a slight headache, a mouth that tastes like ash, and a profound sadness that settles atop his sternum, weighing him down and pressing him into his mattress.

He sees the glass of water on his bedside table with ibuprofen placed neatly next to it and downs them both without so much as a second thought. As his brain slowly comes back online, he takes a moment to finally navigate his messy feelings and comes to a crushing realization-

Kirishima doesn’t have to text him anymore.

The redhead had said that he’d leave him alone after making it up to him, and yes, it was Bakugou’s standoffish nature that got them into that situation in the first place. And yes, Bakugou had paid the tab mostly because it was too high a bill to be footed by the bar and Bakugou made bank, but also because a small, minuscule part of him hoped that the gesture would make Kirishima insist on another outing or something to ‘make it up to him'.

The blonde doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the fact that he forgave Kirishima almost two days into texting him.

He almost avoids his phone out of fear alone and makes it through a whole cup of coffee and 3 chapters into a novel recommended by Deku before finally picking up his phone to check for emails and notifications.

He expects none from Kirishima.

So, of course, there are 3 from the redhead.

Bakugou’s heart leaps to his throat and he can’t seem to unlock his phone quite fast enough.

fuck he’s cute hi Bakugou, thank you for coming last night!!!

fuck he’s cute it was actually really cool 2 finally meet you. U didn’t have to pay the tab tho :’D

fuck he’s cute bt since u did, I still owe u. can we figure it out later??? Also, what did you think of the place???

Bakugou dumbass

Bakugou you’ve got a swanky place, I’ll give you that. Food was fucking good too. could be spicier.

Bakugou you got cam completely hooked

Bakugou and yeah, you better make it up to me later. Asshole.

Kirishima replies a few hours later, just as Bakugou finishes up a yoga routine that stretches out his back in the best way possible.

fuck he’s cute :D :D :D :D :D

fuck he’s cute can’t wait

fuck he’s cute <image attached>

fuck he’s cute ruby says hi

It’s a selfie this time, not a picture of just the kitty. Bakugou can appreciate how cute the mutt is, but for once, he has no attention to spare her. Not when Kirishima’s eyes are crinkling around the edges from how hard he smiles up at the camera, not when he’s wearing a tank top with relaxed arm holes, showing off bulging muscles and hints of ink, and not when just the mere thought of him makes Bakugou’s stomach flop around uncontrollably.

He barely manages to reply coherently.

Bakugou the only bright spot in this shitty world

He presses his phone to his forehead and quietly contemplates just how gay he is. Camie pets his head on the way to the kitchen.

It takes Bakugou some time to get used to waking up to Good Morning texts and a stream of random thoughts from Kirishima all day. The flutter in his stomach disappears a few weeks into talking to the redhead, instead replaced by a bone-deep warmth that always manages to make him feel a little better.

dumbass kirishima GOOOOOOOD MORNING :D

dumbass Kirishima someone threw up on my fave shoes last night

Bakugou HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Bakugou suffer

dumbass Kirishima y u so mean to me ☹ ☹

Bakugou cause its fuckin hilarious

dumbass Kirishima ☹

Bakugou ugh

Bakugou <image attached> [it’s a picture of Bakugou’s balcony, and all his plants look vibrant green as the sun hits them just right]

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima legit felt my serotonin just spike

dumbass Kirishima thxxxxxx

Bakugou whatever

Bakuguo dumbass

---

Bakugou if I plan a murder can I count on your stupid muscles to help me move the body

dumbass Kirishima D:

dumbass Kirishima at least take me out to dinner b4 involving me in your crimes

dumbass Kirishima what a lack of manners

Bakugou stfu

dumbass Kirishima :”D :”D

dumbass Kirishima youre joking right?

dumbass Kirishima right??

dumbass Kirishima RIGHT?????

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU THIS IS A BAD TIME TO LEAVE ME HANGING BRO DO NOT DO THIS

Bakugou don’t call me bro

dumbass Kirishima THAT IS NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW

Bakugou lol I didn’t do shit dumbass don’t worry

Bakugou or did I?

dumbass Kirishima BAKUGOU NO

---

dumbass Kirishima <image attached> [it’s a gym selfie; Kirishima is crouching in front of the mirror shirtless, hair pulled into a bun atop his head. He’s glistening with sweat, and he’s got a more serious look on his face. He’s not actively flexing any muscle, but the pose makes his thighs, calves and biceps bulge. One hand holds the phone, the other is resting on his bent knee]

dumbass Kirishima working on deez gainz

Bakugou what time do you usually workout

dumbass Kirishima depends on my schedule actually

dumbass Kirishima I prefer the morning, but when I take the late night shift I usually go be4 work the next day

Bakugou hmmm

Bakugou let me know

Bakugou maybe we can go together

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Bakugou ugh I changed my mind

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D :D

dumbass Kirishima no takebacksies

Bakugou fucking fantastic

dumbass Kirishima :D :D :D

---

“So, let me get this straight- you guys gym together at least once a week, you talk every day, your stomach flutters at the mere thought of him and Cam swears he’s making googly eyes at you all the time, and you still haven’t asked each other out yet?”

Bakugou flips his phone off, “Fuck off Deku, don’t be a little shit.”

Midoriya’s face morphs into an amused smile on the other end of their facetime call, “Are you being bashful Kacchan? That’s adorable.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“NOOOOO,” Midoriya bemoans dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m missing all this.”

“Yeah, well, who the fuck told you to teach kids English halfway across the world dumbass?”

“I miss you too Kacchan,” Midoriya beams, making a heart with his hands.

“I truly loathe you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Midoriya puts a few papers away before sighing. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to make a move? How do you plan on doing it?”

“I don’t,” Bakugou ruffles his hair and ducks his head to hide his rapidly warming cheeks, “I’m not asking him out Deku, fuck that.”

“Why not?” the asshole whines, eyes wide and innocent. “You deserve happiness Kacchan. Plus, he seems like a really nice guy.” Midoriya leans forward and adds in a whisper, “I’ve heard he has a fantastic butt.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and flips him off again, “Fuck off, you can’t say that without actually meeting him.”

“I’ll be back before then. You guys better be dating already when I get there.”

“Stop telling me what to do, shitty Deku!”

“Never Kacchan, that’s what you do for the people you love.”

“Ugh, how are you so gross when you’re so far away, I hate you.”

Midoriya’s laugh sounds tinny over the phone speaker, lacking its usual body and warmth. Bakugou huffs again before picking his novel back up to read.

“Hi Zuku,” Camie calls out from over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You need to come back soon and help me with Kitkat, he refuses to make the first move!”

“Butt out of my fucking love life, you freaks!”

“Can’t butt out of something that doesn’t exist Kats,” Camie deadpans.

Bakugou feels extremely justified in flinging a stress ball right at her. The kitchen fills up with raucous laughter, from his phone and from the person standing in front of him, and Bakugou thinks that adding a deeper, warmer laugh to the mix, coming from a specific redhead might not be the worst thing in the world.

Kiri bakugouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Bakugou what?

Kiri just wanted to say hi <3

Bakugou wth

Kiri we still on fr the gym tomorrow?

Bakugou obviously you dumbass

Bakugou I need you to spot me

Bakugou im beating my personal best tomorrow or im going to die trying

Kiri so manly :O :O :O

Kiri I’ve got you bruh

Bakugou don’t call me that

Bakugou and I know you do

Kiri <3 <3

---

Bakugou <link>

Bakugou that playlist you were asking about

Kiri u da bomb katsuki

Bakugou katsuki huh?

Bakugou getting cocky I see

Kiri I mean, weve known each other for like 4 months now???

Kiri ur one of my closest pals

Kiri I don’t have to, I just thought ud like it more than bro

Bakugou I do like it more than bro

Bakugou eijirou

Bakugou I guess ur not terrible

Eijirou ????

Eijirou did you just?? pay me????? A compliment??

Eijirou who r u and wat have you done to katsuki?

Bakugou fuck you

Bakugou just fuck you

Eijirou <3 <3 <3

Bakugou wakes up one morning, approximately 5 months after meeting Kirishima for the first time, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His work goes smoothly. The coffee tastes potent and fresh, his body feels fine, his plants are thriving, Camie is busy with her own deadlines and therefore not bugging him, even the sun is mellow and warm; the perfect weather.

The pit in his stomach worsens with every hour.

It doesn’t help that all of his messages to Kirishima have gone unanswered; he hasn’t even been online all day. In the months that they’ve communicated, he’s never gone a day without texting the man, and now it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth.

When it gets closer to 6 in the evening, Bakugou decides to call if Kirishima doesn’t get in touch himself. Because the pit in his stomach is making him nauseous, and he needs to know if the redhead is ok if only for the sake of his own damn health.

He gets a call from an unknown number at 5:20 in the evening. The pit in his stomach becomes a yawning chasm as he picks up the call.

“Hello?”

“Bakugou, it’s Ashido, from the bar.”

Bakugou pulls in a deep breath. “Where is Kirishima?”

“Um, there was an incident last night, at Riot.” She sighs deeply before continuing, “Kiri got jumped in the alley outside by a bunch of really drunk homophobic assholes that saw him turn down some guy’s number. He actually fought them off for the most part, but he’s sustained a broken nose and some fractured ribs. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Bakugou sinks to the ground, his stomach plummeting with him. “Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck-“

“I’ll text you the hospital details, ok? I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner, between talking to his moms and the hospital folks, it slipped my mind.”

“I’ll be there,” Bakugou says, standing up on shaky feet and stumbling back to his room. “Just don’t leave him alone.”

“Never in a million years.”

They hang up and Bakugou changes, hails a cab, and gets to the hospital in a complete daze.

His affection for the redhead, brimming and spilling from every crevice, makes itself evident when he lays eyes on him in the hospital bed and feels a surge of protectiveness. He wants to kill the people that did this, he wants to gather Kirishima in his arms and hold him tight, he wants to crawl into bed with him and talk about stupid shit and see him smile again.

“He’s pretty high on pain meds right now,” Ashido says from somewhere behind him, pointing to his IV lines, “so he’s been saying really funny stuff. The doctors did a full evaluation and said he should recover completely in 5ish weeks.”

Bakugou nods and swallows thickly. Ashido squeezes his arm before leaving the hospital room, shutting the door behind her softly.

Kirishima hasn’t seen him yet, so Bakugou approaches his bed carefully before placing a hand on the guardrail. The noise pulls Kirishima’s attention towards him, and Bakugou’s gut tightens when those large, warm eyes go completely soft at the sight of him.

“Kassaki~” Kirishima slurs, his smile large and dopey.

“You absolute dumbass,” Bakugou chokes out, his hand moving from the rail to grip Kirishima’s tightly. Kirishima’s fingers twine with his own with practised ease and his smile turns gooey.

“Hi Kats, you look beautiful today.”

Bakugou half-laughs, half-sobs and rubs his eyes fiercely. Kirishima’s face is a bit bruised, and there’s a huge bandage on his nose, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Bakugou had first feared. The pit in his stomach finally calms, slowly loosening until he can breathe normally again.

“Shut up Eiji,” Bakugou grumbles, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. He leaves his hand in Kirishima’s.

“Ok,” Kirishima agrees easily. It takes 10 seconds for him to break the silence again.

“Hey Kats?”

“What?”

“Are we dating?”

Bakugou startles at that, eyes snapping over to Kirishima’s. He doesn’t look accusatory or hurt or weirded out or anything- merely curious.

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh.” Kirishima frowns, “Why not?”

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh, “Because we’re both idiots.”

“Oh,” the redhead says, then nods. “That kinda tracks.”

“HEY!”

Kirishima’s smile becomes dopey again, eyes crinkling in the most endearing way.

“I really like you Kats. You’re so smart and funny and you always smell like fabric softener, and you’re just like. Really pretty.”

Bakugou feels his face heat up completely, his grip on Kirishima’s hand tightening.

“Just rest, you dumbass,” Bakugou says weakly, his entire body too hot for comfort. He watches Kirishima’s smile become something warm and loving in a way that hits his heart, and he doesn’t let go of the redhead’s hand, right up until the end of visiting hours.

When he exits the hospital alongside Ashido, he feels the last of his energy drain.

“I cant believe we didn’t get to him sooner,” Ashido mumbles, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. “The bar was noisy, and he just wanted to dump out some trash. Hanta noticed he was gone a while before we went out back and found him punching the last dude.”

Bakugou purses his lips. Truth be told, he cant believe Kirishima had gotten so badly hurt so close to his own bar, and he’s pissed as fuck that the idiot brigade had even let it happen, but the sincerity in Ashido’s voice tugs at his chest painfully.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Bakugou laughs humorlessly. “He’ll probably say there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.”

Ashido’s laugh is hollow, “That’s our Eijirou.” She looks at Bakugou again. “You coming tomorrow?”

He flashes her his best sneer. “You best believe I’m going to come by every single fucking day till he’s discharged.”

Ashido’s smile becomes a little more genuine, a little more well-rounded.

“I’m really glad he has you.” Her voice goes all soft and gross as she continues, “You mean a LOT to him, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou mumbles, before waving her off and walking away.

Because he does know.

He also knows he’s falling madly in love with him, and that he’s completely and utterly screwed.

And he finds that he really doesn’t mind all that much. Some people, he rationalizes, are worth the horrible butterflies and the too hot too cold feelings down the back of his spine.

Some people, he realizes, are worth loving with everything you’ve got.

It takes Kirishima five weeks of house arrest to recover completely. Bakugou spends every weekday and a few of the weekends with him, staying over more often than not. He fusses over the redhead, forces him to take his medication on time, and cooks him everything under the sun.

“You’re spoiling me,” the redhead whines when Bakugou serves him what smells like the best mapo tofu he’s ever going to have.

The blonde grins triumphantly, “You’re damn right I am.”

They bicker and banter constantly, but they also curl up and marathon old bond movies at night. Kirishima goes over the bar’s paperwork while Bakugou works off his couch, and they take turns making the coffee. Ruby falls in love with Bakugou and curls up on his chest every chance she gets, and Bakugou laughs at Kirishima’s look of betrayal. The redhead’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, and he leaves his memory foam pillow with the blonde.

“You refuse to take my bed,” he grumbles, “so you damn well better accept my stupid pillow.”

Bakugou’s neck thanks the redhead profusely.

It’s new and weird, living with someone for the first time. Kirishima’s posse are in and out through the day, and Camie comes by just as often, bringing a change of clothes and gossip with her. Todoroki drops in with some high-quality tequila sometimes and Inasa brings his infectious energy, and through all of this, Kirishima remains in high spirits, even if he goes a little stir crazy sometimes.

It’s new and it’s weird, going from casual touches to more loving ones, more comforting ones. It becomes commonplace for Bakugou to rest his head between Kirishima’s shoulder blades on the days that he has a bad time at work. It’s normal for Kirishima to place his head on Bakugou’s lap while they watch shark documentaries. It’s easy for them to bump knees and press their calves together while enjoying their morning coffee.

It’s new and it’s weird and it’s amazing.

Because Bakugou finds himself falling in love with the little things. The way Kirishima sticks his tongue out when he’s smashing the PS5 controller during an especially intense game of Mario party, the way he makes the coffee with a sleepy smile on his face, the way he hums off-key to a song that’s stuck in his head, the way he can understand Bakugou- can differentiate between his frustrated fuck, his bashful fuck, his angry fuck, his sleepy fuck.

And how he accepts it all without so much as a hitch in his step.

Bakugou watches himself fall in love, slowly, and then all at once.

“How is it that he lived with you for almost 5 weeks and you STILL didn’t ask him out? Or kiss him stupid? Or something?”

Sero has a finger pinching the bridge of his nose, the other flexing loosely in front of his chest as he tries to fathom the stupidity of two people that could not be more into each other if they tried.

“I, I uh-“ Kirishima hangs his head, “I have no excuse.” He sighs deeply. “I was scared he’d give me a pity answer cause I was injured and everything.”

Ashido looks over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Eiji, I know you love us so like, if any of us were hurt like this you’d take care of us till we were better too. But do you think someone like BAKUGOU would practically move into someone’s house to make sure they were ok if he wasn’t nuts about them? Really?”

Kirishima’s face flushes, and he waves her away. “I don’t want to read into it. He’s just a really, really, really good guy. And what we have is good, it’s great! We’re bros. Pals. Friends. It’s all good.”

Ashido continues to stare at him for another moment before throwing her hands up and yelling, “BOYS!” She stomps into the kitchen to help Satou with prep for the day.

They continue to stock up the bar, Kirishima assigned to prepping limes and the ice machine, when the door opens and someone steps in.

“Sorry, we’re not op- Bakugou?”

And there stands the blonde with the biggest bouquet of flowers – chrysanthemums and sunflowers – that Kirishima has ever seen. The redhead distantly hears the sound of a door close behind him, and suddenly they’re alone, the tension positively stifling.

“Bakugo-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Kirishima sucks in a startled breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Go on a date. With me,” Bakugou repeats, his neck and ears tinging the loveliest shade of red. “The romantic kind. Where we dress up and get food and drinks and fight over the bill and walk each other to the door and get super awkward before we kiss. All that shit.”

Kirishima isn’t sure how it happens- one moment he’s on this side of the bar, the next, he’s jumping across and gathering Bakugou into a tight embrace, mindful of his newly healed ribs but still unwilling to release the blonde until Bakugou returns his hug, burying his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Bakugou mumbles when they finally pull away, his hands fisted in Kirishima’s shirt.

“In every possible language out there,” Kirishima answers, ducking down to softly kiss Bakugou on the cheek. He laughs as the blonde cusses and shoves him away and laughs even harder when Bakugou’s own smile covers his entire face, bright and open and oh so breathtaking.

That smile is Kirishima’s and Kirishima’s alone.

Eiji hiiiiiiiiiiii

Bakugou I swear to god Ei

Bakugou if you’re late for our first date I will find you

Eiji and give me a kiss? :*

Bakugou I don’t kiss people that don’t have good time management

Bakugou so fuck off

Eiji still so mean to me ☹

Eiji I want that kiss tho

Eiji so ill be ready

Eiji promise

Bakugou good

Eiji <3

Bakugou <3

Eiji :D :D :D :D :D :D

Eiji YOU LIKE ME ENOUGH TO SEND EMOJIS HU H <3333

Bakugou it will never happen again

Bakugou so fuck right off

Eiji :”D

Bakugou im outside

Eiji be right there

Eiji <3

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #flustered #boku no hero #mha #they're idiots your honor #giving out the wrong number au???#if that's a thing??????#this one's a monster y'all

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nikrangdan · 4 years ago

Text

photographer!ni-ki

pairing: photographystudent!ni-ki x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, comedy

description: every time you went to the park you noticed a mysterious boy who would take pictures of the scenery on his cute little camera. you liked to see what he’d take pictures of from afar but one day you noticed his camera pointing straight at.. you

for ni-ki’s bday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE <33 sorry i posted a day late but i hope u all enjoy!

———

“y/n!”

you groan before getting out of your bed at 10am

it was a saturday why was your mom yelling at u ..

you walked into the kitchen all sluggishly and rubbed your eyes

“you need to start taking suki on walks to the park. you need the exercise too.” your mom doesn’t even spare u a glance before walking out the door to run some errands

right

u forgot u were taking care of ur cousins dog while he was out of town... her name was suki

shes a little shiba inu AND SHES THE CUTEST THING EVER!!!!

WELP

u dont even have a choice anymore

u got somewhat ready before heading out with suki in your arms

shes so soft and fluffy

though u dont like to admit it, u kinda agreed with ur mom about u needing to exercise and get out the house

you’ve been cooped up in your room for days with no social or nature interaction

the park was about a 10 minute drive from ur house

and it was actually a really pretty park...

there was a lake and really pretty flowers everywhere and alot of gazebos and benches

and a nice open field of greenery

it basically looked like a park out of a movie

so you weren’t suprised that there was a decent amount of people there

but not too much thankfully.. or else you would’ve driven to another park with less people

you got out the car with suki and put her on the leash

let the walking begin!!!!

it was a really nice day out... the sun was shining but it wasnt too hot or cold

you led her onto the sidewalk and she began sniffing at the grass around her

whenever a few people would pass they would coo at how adorable she was

it wasnt until 5 minutes later that ur eyes locked onto a figure infront of the lake

you were just walking with suki in silence.. admiring the scenery

until u caught sight of a boy

u could only see his back but u noticed the camera over his shoulder

he was standing in one of those photographer poses where like one leg is bent and kind of out while his back is hunched to get that perfect angle of a shot

he was infront of the sidewalk railings where the lake begins and he was taking photos of the scenery across from it

it was a beautiful sight honestly

there was another sidewalk but behind it was colorful trees and blossoming flowers and bushes

u understood why he’d take pictures of it

you didnt see his face but u kind of acknowledged the boy before walking past him with suki

basically thinking he was just another passerby that you noticed making a single appearance in your life and never expecting to see him again

OH BOY U WERE WRONG

the next time you see him is 3 days later at the same park

you were walking suki again but this time at 7pm after dinner

the sun was almost done setting so the sky was getting darker but there was still a hint of the orange circle peeking from below

this time you walked further down the sidewalk path towards the scattered gazebos

and you noticed the same boy again

this time he was sat in one of the gazebos with his tiny camera in his hands

his back was hunched over again and he was looking closely at the pictures he had taken

‘oh its him again’ u thought

and that was it

LOL

u just acknowledged him in ur head AGAIN before u thought nothing of it and continued ur walk with suki

so the NEXT time u saw him was another 2 days later at 7pm again

you wanted to take suki on a quick walk

but you got tired after like 10 minutes so you sat down on a blanket u brought

suki was just laying next to u while u were on ur phone

it wasnt fully dark out yet and there was still a few people in the park

the fairy lights that were placed around were lit up already

it was super pretty and the weather was nice

after staring at ur phone for a few mins u looked up just to look around

and u saw Him again

wow

why do u keep seeing him !?!?!

his back was faced towards u like always

and he was like 40 feet away from u so he looked so tiny

but u could tell it was him because of his blond hair and black coat he always wore

you kind of zoned out and unfortunately ur eyes were trained on his back without u even noticing

and he

turned

around

for the first time EVER!!!!

its like he sensed someone staring at him

but yes he turned around with his camera in his hand

the first thing u noticed was that he got a new camera

it was a larger black one

definitely more expensive

Awe good for him!!!!!

and then u glanced up to see his face

and u made EYE CONTACT

u looked away so fast

because

He was SO CUTE.............

u awkwardly started looking to your left and tried turning ur face away from him

‘oh look at those beautiful um... birds.. yeah’

hopefully he didnt notice

*nervously sweats*

u didnt dare look back in that direction so u spent the rest of your evening in the park on ur phone or playing with suki

eventually it reached 8pm so u packed up ur stuff and went home

U were still kind of thinking about that boy....

so u were like

i need to go back

and u did Lol

u went back the next day at 6pm this time with suki

it was lighter out and the sky was beautiful

perfect for a certain boy to be taking photos

*evil laugh*

u were walking for like 15 minutes and u didnt see him anywhere :((((

the one time u go there for HIM

u settled down under a tree

suki immediately went on the blanket when u sat down too

you played tug of war with her and fed her some treats while playing

playing with her for 10 minutes straight definitely tired u out so u laid down and just stared at the sky

it was a faded blue turning into orange and pink

U were kinda bored so u sat up and started petting suki

you would occasionally glance up at the strangers walking past u

and

let me tell u what Happened..

u looked up at another lady walking her dog and went like

‘aweee that dog is so cute’ in ur head

and u took ur eyes off the dog and glanced to ur right

idk bc u felt like it

AND GUESS WHAT U SEE???!??????

THE BOY

LIKE 20 FEET AWAY

STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIELD

AND HE HAD HIS CAMERA UP TO HIS FACE

and it WAS POINTED AT U ??!?!

as soon as u looked in his direction he jumped and put his hands down

he like

Blushed????? and awkwardly smiled u know rubbing the neck and all that

he was embarrassed

ur cheeks were turning so red

BUT HE WAS SO ADORABLE

was kind of weird.... stalkerish but um

he cleared that up BECAUSE

He started walking over to u

he was wearing black jeans that were ripped on the knees with black high top converse

and a gray sweater with a black coat over it

HE JUST LOOKED CUTE OK

ur were like OMg []£{€]%[#{%€]£{

n he just Plop

he stood right infront of u basically towering bc u were sitting under the tree

suki noticed the boy and tilted her head like hmmmm???

u had the SMALLEST smile on ur face bc u wanted to seem friendly but not TOO friendly

he had his camera strap over his arm while he held it and his other hand was rubbing the name of his neck

“uh... sorry about that.. i didn’t mean to seem weird or anything!” he waved his hands infront of him to deny it

u just sat there while he talked like ❤️_❤️

“im uh taking photos for my class and i thought u looked nice so i took some pictures.. im really sorry i should’ve asked first now i seem weird or something im really-,”

u cut him off so he didnt ramble any longer

“no its okay! i get it” you gave him a warm smile and pet suki while she drifted to your side and kept her eyes on him

u both just stared at eachother for a few seconds before you spoke

“um.. would you like to sit?” you scooted over and made room for him in the blanket

WOW U WERE FEELING BOLD TODAY...

“uh sure” he set his camera down and sat beside u

“this is suki.. shes my cousins dog” u said when she climbed into his lap and started sniffing him

he grinned and pet her before looking up at you

“im ni-ki by the way” his cheeks turned a bit pink which u thought was cute

“y/n” you smiled

“suki seems to like you” u laughed

“so how long have you been working on this project or whatever?”

“oh um i started last week... i just have to make a portfolio of photos i take and turn it in” he said while keeping his eyes trained on suki

u noticed he didnt make eye contact with u often but u knew it was probably because he was nervous because u do that too

“can i see the pictures...?” u hesitantly ask him

his eyes light up when u say that

“yeah!”

AWE HES SO EXCITED

he picks up his camera next to him and clicks a few buttons

“oh by the way... ive noticed u at the park before! you’re always with the camera” you laugh

“ah yeah, this park is where most of my project photos are taken.”

he leans over and shows you the pictures on the device

“woah” you let out a gasp

he showed u the picture he took of you first

How does a picture look better than real life...

you’ve never really been into photography but now that you’ve seen his work u might just have to start getting into it

“this isnt even done yet, i still have to edit it so it’ll look even more perfect” he shyly says

“this is amazing what the heck” your jaw is Dropped

“thanks”

“i need to see the final result” u said because it was such a nice picture

“um.. if you give me your number i can show you it” he sent you a cheeky grin

SMOOTH.....

he was so AGGGHGGHG ur kind of obsessed

you two exchange numbers and talk about random things for a whole hour until he says he has to go

“it was really nice meeting you.. i had fun” he tells you as he starts standing up

suki is sleeping so he tries not to wake her up

“i had fun too” you smile

“would you like me to walk you to your car?”

A GENTLEMAN !!?!?!?!

“oh yeah, thanks”

you two spend another 2 minutes together as you walk side by side with suki in your arms and he held your blanket and bag for you

you reached your car and thanked him

“ill see you soon, dont forget to text me! and good luck on the project, i know you’ll do great”

“thank you..”

ni-ki’s cheeks turn pink once more before he turns around and starts walking away with a smile on his face

he is just the cutest thing ever

you definitely need to see him again

198 notes · View notes

devinescribe · 4 years ago

Text

Childish

Niragi Suguru

So, a recent comment left by someone made me realize that there isn't many stories where the reader has a little space. I mean, I've noticed it as a person with one, so... yeah!

A quick explination for those of you that don't know what a little space is: A little space is when a person age regresses due to trauma. This could be situations from abuse to having to be an adult when you were a child. People use it to cope with all sort of trauma however(yes, being in a car crash, near death experiences etc. Etc.) When they age regress it can be to any age as well. Although a lot of people age regress to smaller ages (personally, my friend's little spaces (gave me permission to share) are of the ages of 4,5,7, and 3. I, of course, did research on how others experience it, but am mostly going off of how I personally experience my little space!

Warnings: blood, weapons, swearing, harassment(none done by Niragi towards the reader), soft Niragi things because I can't write his character canonly for the life of me-

Side note: there's a whole headcanon thing from I think @aceofspadegrass ? here on tumblr where there's pancakes on Fridays only and everyone goes nuts over it? Yeah, that inspired a section of this-

Niragi didn't know why he felt protective over you. You were just another girl at the beach. But he was protective over you since the first day he met you. It was a quick attachment on your side as well, feeling safe and protected around him. Although, you knew of his interest in you, you didn't want to bring attention to yourself. You already did by accidentally regressing in places around the beach. Or maybe being a bit to childish for your age. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't help it. And Niragi understood. That's why you were with him most of the time. He didn't mind your clingy or childish nature. No, he told you he thought you we cute for needing him so much. And you liked it when he called you cute. You felt safe.

You sat in the small field behind the beach, picking up dandelions and weaving them together into a crown. You kept humming quietly to yourself as you did. "What are you doing there princess?" You heard someone ask from behind you. It was Niragi. You knew his voice, you knew him. And you would never ever mistake his voice for someone else's. It was impossible. You smiled widely, showing him the bright yellow flower crown. He nodded, crouching down besides you. "Don't you have games tonight?" You questioned him, placing the flowers on his head. He looked at you, and up at the crown now placed on his head. He went to grab it off, but you grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You pouted at the fact he was going to take it off, and he kissed your hand, muttering an apology of sorts into your hand. "Yeah. And so do you," he whispered. Neither of you wanted to be separated for the games, but you also didn't want to be in a game where there could only be one survivor. Of course, you didn't get to decide when you two would oand wouldn't play together, but it was so hard to not want to leave his side, but also not want to be the one left alive after a game. He had told you before that if it was a game where there could only be a sole survivor, you would be leaving. And that scared you. You couldn't think of life without Niragi caring for you, or giving you sweet words. After he met you, he started hating the fact he knew what others felt when they were waiting for their partners to get back. Now, you two had never really established what you two were, but you were really hoping he felt the same, because confessing was already stressful enough for you. You didn't want him to leave you alone.

"Niragi-"

"(Y/N)-"

You both spoke at the same time, making you laugh. "I'm going first. Because...yeah. You're mine, right?" He asked, looking at you. His dark eyes met your own, and you looked down. "W-whadya mean by that...?" You questioned, still looking away. He tilted your head to the side making you look at him. "You're mine, right? Mine means mine," he repeated. You understood what he was saying. "I'm yours, pinkie promise!"

You whimpered, clutching onto his shirt in pain. "Owie... hurts," you whined. "I know sweetheart, I know," he whispered into your ear, glaring at all the people who looked at you weird as he carried you up to his room. More like your shared room, because you slept in there more than in your actual room.

You had gotten hurt during the game. This time, Niragi was there to help you. Some asshole had tried to use you as a shield, and you ended up getting hurt. Niragi quickly got rid of them, making sure to protect you.

He sat you on the bed, and watched you to make sure you didn't get hurt. " 'Shiya can help, can't he?'' You said, hissing in pain when you tried to move your leg. "No. That bastard isn't putting his hands on you. You're my princess," he stated. "Yours, I pinkie promised!" You reminded. You kicked your leg on reflex, and almost screamed in pain. "It hurts... pwease get 'im?" You begged, giving him the puppy dog eyes. He scowled, and then reluctantly nodded. "I would much rather you go to Ann though," he said, kissing your forehead. "But she has dead bodies down there... 's scary," you explained. "Yeah yeah.... I know sweetheart. Still... can you try and be brave?" He asked. You thought for a second, before nodding. "I can be brave!" You shouted. "But only for you," you mumbled.

It was your favorite day if the week. Not only was it Friday, and you got pancakes for breakfast, but it was also suply run day. At leat you got pancakes this week. Last week you gave them to Aguni because he helped you with one of your plants that was dying. Niragi was very confused on why you were crying over a plant, until Aguni gave him the look. You know, the dad look? The scary one when a boy goes home to pick up the daughter, and the dad is just giving the the look? Yeah, that's all it took for Niragi to leave it. And the week before you gave them to Last Boss because he got Niragi during one of your panic attacks. So that was no pancakes for two weeks. You were hoping nobody would guilt trip you or threaten you about you giving them your pancakes. It had happened before, and it would definitely happen again.

Niragi usually took you with him, unless they were going to a place he thought you would be in danger. Along with spending the day with Niragi, not having to wear a skimpy bathing suit, and eating pancakes, Niragi let you take some things back. Most of the times you picked out a stuffie, or a fluffy blanket. He also made sure you had suckers or jolly ranchers. Kuina had even once joked that his room was like a little nest for you.

"What do you mean a nest Kuina?" You questioned tilting your head to the side. "Hmm... have you ever read... no, I probably shouldn't tell you about that... like a bird's nest. The pair build a nest out of things they like so they feel safe and at home. And in the other thing I was going to mention... the... usually it's a girl, so I'm going to go with that. The female builds a nest out of clothes and things that smell like... her partner for neutrality's sake," she explained. You thought about it, and nodded slowly. ''I guess you could say that. I like the things that smell like him. Make me feel safe 'n warm," you giggled.

"Am I going with you today?" You asked him, having your fingers crossed behind your back. He nodded.

''You are st-"

"Staying right by your side or within arms reach. I know!" You interrupted, giggling at his worry. Although he wouldn't outwardly say it, you knew it was worry. "Good girl. Such a smart girl you are," he cooed. You smiled at the praise hugging him tightly. "Gi-gi..." you muttered. "Hm? What's up?" He asked. "Thank you."

You fell asleep on the way there, making Niragi be twice as much on edge. He was in the passenger seat, and you were in the back. Of course, you looked cute as always, but that's kind of what was the problem. He kept glancing back to make sure you were still there, and nothing was going on with you and the other people in the car.

"She's Niragi's girl, I wouldn't do that," he heard someone whisper in the back seat. He glared, glancing back for a second. "I don't really care... no rules, as he likes to say," he heard the other whisper back. This made him scowl in anger. You were his. And no one would dare fucking touch you. How dare this person try something while he's right in front of them. "S-suguru," you whined, still sleeping. He turned back, and glared at the person besides you. Their hand was on your inner thigh, high above where it should be. It shouldn't even be on you. "Hands off her. Now," he growled, his hand twitched trying to not reach for his gun and shoot the person. The other stared back defiantly, their hand going higher. He heard you whine his name again in your sleep. At least you were dreaming of him. But he was going to have to deal with this person. While they were next to you, he couldn't do much, as he didn't want to dirty your clothes. You had picked them out specifically for today. Specifically for him. And your beautiful face would get blood on it, he didn't want that. You looked too cute to get ruined by this person's blood all over you. "Stop the car," he told the driver. They did so, knowing that Niragi was not one to spare those who angered him. Especially when he was already pissed off. "You, out. Now. Since you think you're so good, come out here. If you're so confident, you'll be fine, no?" He asked, scowling at the man.

You stirred in your sleep, making Niragi cautious of what he did. Sure, you knew he had killed, and would continue to do so, but he never did it in front of you. If you happened to be in the room, or space, he would tell you to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and sing a little song until he came back. And you did. You were always pretty good about doing so, not wanting to trouble him with a possible panic attack. (He never minded helping you through them, and wished you would understand that.) But right now, you were asleep. And he couldn't tell you to do that.

The person got out of the car, staring at the gun. "Like that's fair," they muttered. Niragi rolled his eyes. "Life's not fair, get over it," he groaned. The person cracked their knuckles, and Niragi laughed. Like they could hurt him, he had a gun.

Boy was he wrong.

Of course, by the end, the person was no longer an issue. Dead most likely. And if not, to suffer from now until their slow, painful death. Niragi had not gone unscathed, however. The person had gotten in a few punches, making Niragi bleed.

"Fuck..." he groaned, wiping away the blood. The driver started driving again, and he heard you start to wake up. He turned in his seat, seeing you yawn, and strech. "Mornin' " you muttered. "Good morning sweetheart," he said. You rubbed your eyes, and looked at him.

"Gi-Gi! You're bleeding! You ok? Hurt? What's wrong?" You panicked, reaching out to touch him. He pushed your hands back. He didn't want your hands dirty with that disgusting person's blood. "I'm fine, you worry about yourself for now."

You held onto his hand, swinging both his and yours arms back and forth as you two walked through the abandoned mall.

"And... that's the last thing on we needed. Which shop do you want to go to now?" He asked you. You smiled widely, tugging at his hand. "Stuffies stuffies stuffies!" You giggled. He laughed, "Alright, alright. Calm down first, and we'll see what we can find."

He was always kind to you. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't make him feel alone. The fact that he didn't want to be seen as a monster by you, even if he knew he was. He could pretend. He could pretend this was back in the normal world, and that the borderlands never happened. That he had really met you at the coffee shop he went to every morning, and not during a game where you almost died. He could pretend and lie to himself that he was a good person when he was with you. Because if you left him, or even worse, you died... he knew he would go back to being alone.

And you felt safe around him. Maybe it was the fact he saved you during the game you two met in. The fact he wasn't weirded out the first time you had regressed. You loved him. Even if you knew of all the people he's killed or the things he's done. He hadn't left you to die. He hadn't hurt you, and something told you he wouldn't. He trusted you, and you trusted him. And as long as there was the feelings of love, saftey, understanding, and trust, you'd stay. This meant you'd always be with him, because there was not a doubt in your mind those feelings would always be there.

Yay, first one done! I hope you enjoyed, and please always remember to stay hydrated, and eat because you deserve it! ♡♡♡♡

#alice in borderland #niragi #×reader #fluff #🎶please don't kill me i just want to include diverse things in my writing🎶#i will write more for the rest after work tomorrow #promise

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good-enemy · 4 years ago

Text

im. a bit confused about the loona pairs in these teasers are these the mirrors we’ve been theorising about the whole time?

- choerry and hyunjin i get. obv. they led with choerry and hyunjin right? probably bc everyone already knows the connection bc theyve been highlighting it the entire time lol. hyunjins link to oec (primary colours), choerry acting as her replacement in oec? kind of? like a version of hyunjin that jinsoul and kim lip created? maybe? and then choerry took hyunjins place in that version of love and live and so what showed them as twins and maybe theyre supposed to be the same person. or maybe theyre just besties who knows anyway

- i think olivia and heejin were next and theyre obvious too the first and last girl and then they meet on the roof in egoist and its like the loonaverse/mobius strip has come full circle or whatever but also im pretty sure theyre both the closest things to deities the loonaverse has like heejin was the first girl the founder, i think she invented colour? thats heavily implied in vivid anyway and then olivia maybe invented darkness?? or something idk im pretty sure shes got something funky going on bc nobody else has random laser eyes (also when are THEY making a comeback) and if yves and/or jinsoul truly are the loonaverse’s villains well then theyre both working against olivia right so that would make her..the loonaverse’s saviour??? mirroring its founder?

- chuu and haseul are both the December Girls TM and both the powerhouse vocals or whatever so theres an immediate but basic connection but i also think that bit at the end of heart attack was haseul maybe trying to save chuu from yves’ charm but she was too late, bc werent chuu and gowon the ones to tempt hyunjin away from her oec duties or whatever with the bracelet (im going to circle back to oec they are objectively the coolest part of the loonaverse) meaning that chuu and gowon dont actually have access to 1/3 world/plane/whatever you want to call it or i think they would have been a bit more direct about it bc that was obviously yves’ idea, chuu and gowon are not portrayed as cunning enough to come up with something like that imo, and anyway obviously haseul is in 1/3 world so i wonder if the connection between chuu and 1/3 world was about to be lost and that was haseul trying to hold on and pull her back? also i think most orbits think that all the girls started off in eden and branched out but i think they actually started off in 1/3 world, like the normal world where heejin/god wants everyone to be, and got lost for various reasons but im less sure about that.

- yves and jinsoul both radiate pretty sinister energy i mean jinsoul is always randomly showing up and giving off a weird vibe (a. why was she following vivi around hong kong b. kidnapping choerry with the cherry cake?? c. egoist. what d. why not when shes just lurking on the corner in the phone booth. also sweet crazy love implies that she got her odd eye first since kim lip and choerry are walking around with their eyes starting to hurt but jinsoul has already been to the optometrist, and then she can teleport so she can show up basically anywhere and just do what shes gotta do to be evil or whatever) and then yves is pretty explicitly and literally a snake in the grass, breaking out of eden which im pretty sure is supposed to be purgatory, which would mean that waiting it out and getting the approval of the teacher at the end as olivia did is what youre supposed to do but yves was rebellious/impatient and just took the sneaky back way out except then she ended up getting lost in the forest with chuu and gowon (which begs the question of what exactly happened to yeojin because they were very vague about that) (and also what the forest is supposed to represent? hell? in that case where are odd eye circle? because if heejin is god that would imply 1/3 world is heaven? are odd eye circle in the land of the living? did...bbc kill off loona) anyway that was rambly but chuu and gowon are clearly living their best lives in 1/3 world/heaven/whatever because of a. the haseul thing and b. gowon is clearly going through some kind of transitional state where the shadow/blonde gowon are gowon from another plane (or the future? because if its ‘gowon from another plane’ that implies two gowons) and i dont think shes coming from oec world or shed have an odd eye so she must be coming from 1/3 world but i dont think theres actually any proof of that other than the process of elimination...unless chuu and gowon knowing where to send the bracelet to hyunjin required them having some memory of where 1/3 world was thus implying they both came from there? anyway so they were probably in heaven/angels? they do wear white in hi high, but then in love4eva and butterfly promo pics they wear black maybe suggesting theyre fallen angels? and the reason theyve fallen is yves tempting them, i think yves is absolutely the devil of the situation if heejin is god, im not sure what that makes jinsoul but shes definitely sus

- this is where im getting confused though because i dont really understand what the immediate gowon-vivi and yeojin-kim lip links are? with gowon and vivi i think theyve both been manipulated by yves and realised their mistake when its been too late (vivi becoming a robot, maybe through some kind of bargain yves made with olivia to sacrifice vivi to save herself or something? bc yves and vivi would have been the original troublecausers together so maybe yves spun some kind of sob story to olivia so that olivia would kill vivi and spare yves and then heejin intervened and turned her into a robot temporarily.. man idk and then gowon seems to regret her choice the second she leaves eden (looking back at olivia/hesitating to eat the rose) but she has to just shut up and go along with it i guess) but by that logic you could probably link vivi gowon chuu and maybe olivia and choerry and maybe even jinsoul all together bc hasnt yves screwed basically everyone over? so im not totally sure how they mirror each other exactly, and then im totally lost on yeojin and kim lip. theyre both warm colours? unless their thing is that theyve both been separated from their group within the loonaverse? bc yeojins group was her haseul and choerry, and then choerry was taken to oec world and i guess replaced with hyunjin(/heejin to an extent but it seems like shes everywhere all the time) and kim lips group was her jinsoul and hyunjin, then hyunjin was taken to 1/3 world and replaced with choerry, so theres that link but that doesnt necessarily link yeojin and kim lip specifically bc haseul and jinsoul are also involved but then if it turns out jinsoul is evil and teleporting all over the place with her evil schemes, and i dont get that same vibe from kim lip so maybe its..betrayal? bc with yeojin, i think haseul may have been being chased by her bird self or something, or held hostage maybe? im hoping the bird haseul will come into the lore explanation for why shes been gone (bc im pretty sure theyll work the hiatus into the lore somehow, it would be weird if they didnt imo) anyway so if haseul left yeojin bc of the bird thing and yeojin didnt know about the bird then maybe she would feel betrayed by that...also i thought of this as i was typing but i think kim lip and yeojin have both been lost in the forest due to the actions of their supposed best friends (in the lore) because i think haseul getting kidnapped by the bird or whatever left yeojin on her own and left her susceptible to however one would get lured into the forest...actually if the forest is indeed hell then i just came up with a bit of an uncomfortable and upsetting explanation for that, maybe if being all alone and/or being chased by the frog drove her to, u know, then maybe thats how she ended up there, and then with kim lip i think jinsoul put her there actually. i dont know why but its Something Nefarious i bet

- which then begs the question of what is going to happen this era?? we left off with the girls completing the ritual to turn back time and presumably get haseul back but that opens so many doors? will vivi turn back into a robot? will eden be reinstated? will yeojin be back in the forest? with how jinsoul was lurking around and never really coming out of the dark/hiding in why not, im pretty sure shes got something up her sleeve... odd eye circle could come back properly in some form or another but maybe with jinsoul controlling the other two (if she wasnt already)? also while im on the subject, what are odd eye circle actually doing? who are they? ive always fondly thought of them as a witch coven but..are they actually a witch coven? something to do with the power of three and thats why they had to kidnap choerry? i know theyre looking for the other girls but what for? if they were alive and the other girls were..less so, were they maybe trying to summon them to the land of the living?

- also...i hope yeojins frog man makes a reappearance

#loona #idalui sonyeo #heejin #hyunjin #haseul #yeojin #vivi #kim lip #jinsoul #choerry #yves #chuu #gowon #olivia hye #blockberry creative #kpop

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def-initely-soul · 4 years ago

Note

Aloha you piece of sexy beast, from the first link, 4th bullet with yoongi plox. 😼😻 Pliz anything but angst 😅

asdfghgfdsa I LOVE THIS YES

pairing: yoongi from BTS x reader (f.)

prompts: we hate each other but we were invited to a mutual friend’s party and were warned to be civil so you complimented my costume and fuck you, I haven’t changed yet

genre: humour; smut; e2l au; explicit

warnings: mature language; unprotected intercourse; graphic intercourse; choking; degradation (kind of?)

words: 7.2k (ahHASHhahhHhahHHAhhAH yes im a simp for yoongi sue me)

The time is getting closer and closer, an unwelcome feeling of despair running through your bones as you watch the clock ticking away, closer to what you’ve been dreading since the beginning of the month.

Jimin’s Halloween Party.

And what makes it worse is that you can’t avoid it. You can’t simply show up, spend the appropriate amount of time without being perceived as flaky and then leave to return to the comfort of your own home.

No, because Jimin’s having the party at his apartment. And you’re his roommate.

Another clang sounds from behind your door, out in the living room where the preparations are taking place and you suppress down a sigh. Jimin’s friends are over to help him decorate and, even if he asked your help a thousand times now, you’ve helped him with the food earlier and that’s as far as you’re willing to go.

You wanted some peace and quiet before the chaos began even if it was for a few hours. Though it seems you can’t get much of that when there’s an active battlefield out there.

With a groan of exertion, you get out of your bed, pushing your laptop to the side to go out there and see what all the fuss is about.

The living room is a complete mess; empty balloons decorate the floor as Jimin’s best friend Taehyung tries to inflate them, there’s a garland hanging depressingly from the ceiling that seems to be an assortment of spiders? You can’t really tell, not with Namjoon shaking it violently so it can come off. Jimin tries to make the fog machine work, though with not very much success while Yoongi simply stares at his friends trying to make this whole thing resemble a party.

You roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t help. But you shake your head at that thought. Jimin had warned you to be civil tonight. He wouldn’t put up with another fighting match between the two of you, no matter how much it would entertain his guests.

Truth is you hate the boy. Okay, maybe hate is a strong word corroborating with a strong feeling, and you definitely don’t have any strong feelings for Min Yoongi. You refuse to.

“I see everything’s going swell...” your sarcasm is tangible as you step into the room, crossing your hands on your chest as all four pair of eyes turn to your direction. Namjoon smiles at you, Taehyung gives you a wave and Yoongi simply stares back.

Creep.

“Y/N, please help uuuuuuus...” Jimin whines cutely, his cheeks puffing out as he gives you a demonstration of his best puppy stare. You’ve helped him out of so many situations that could’ve been avoided if he just listened to you. Like tonight, for example. He didn’t listen to you when you said Namjoon wouldn’t be able to do much to help and would probably mess something up. You like Namjoon, you really do but you have to admit he’s a bit clumsy and that’s certainly something you shouldn’t be when decorating for a party.

And he certainly didn’t listen to you when you told him to not invite Yoongi altogether.

After all, this is your house too.

Namjoon gives his neck a scratch as he stops pulling on the garland that looks pulls away from being ripped. “Yeah, we could use another hand...”

You smile at him. You take a step forward, grabbing a chair and climbing on it to remove the garland from the stray nail it seems to be stuck on.

“There. Now please don’t tug at it anymore or you’re gonna rip it in half,” you joke as you pass him the garland and Namjoon blushes in embarrassment.

Jimin gasps. “See? I told you to stop doing that! Y/N, please, these idiots are gonna ruin my party...” he says as he nears you, tugging at your arm like a child with a pout that matches one.

You roll your eyes fondly at him, realizing you really don’t have a choice. “Fine, what do you want me to do?”

Jimin’s eyes gleam with satisfaction as he drags you towards the fog machine. “I need you to look over this because it’s not working and Yoongi has been little to no help,” he responds sending a glare to the blond boy supporting himself on the kitchen island.

“I tried to help but you didn’t like my answer,” he speaks for the first time since you stepped foot into the living room and you rest your eyes on the machine to not look at him instead.

“He said it’s broken...” Jimin says to you as Yoongi throws his hands in the air in a huff.

“Hm... let me take a look at it...” you say thoughtfully as your eyes are already resting on the machine. Jimin leaves to help Taehyung with the balloons, leaving you alone to your ministrations.

You enjoy the comfortable silence for so long before another figure comes to stand near you and watch over your work.

You pay Yoongi no mind as you check the cables and find the one little thing that’s chipped at some part.

“There it is...” you say, removing the cable from both outlets and throwing it away.

“I could have told you that...” Yoongi comments nonchalantly and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time.

All of them are already dressed for the party and Yoongi is no different. He’s going as Han Solo; black boots, a pair of jeans and a holster for his fake blaster, black vest and a white shirt that’s open, revealing his collarbones where your eyes unwillingly trail.

You remove your gaze immediately, ready to be humiliated if he finds out you’ve been openly staring at a glimpse of his naked skin.

Shit, no, he’s a creep. Stop drolling, Y/N.

“You didn’t though...” you reply instead, and if he did got whiff of your wondering eyes he doesn’t let it show.

“And how do you plan on solving that problem? If you don’t have a spare cable, and I doubt you do, this is as good as dead,” he comments indifferently, eyes travelling to the machine and you ignore his barely conceited mockery as you sport a victorious smile.

“As I matter of fact, I do!” you announce before going to the kitchen to search through the cabinets. You emerge victorious after scavenging the third drawer and find the replacing cable. You trudge over to the machine as Yoongi watches you.

He keeps doing that. He should stop.

He presses his lips together as if trying to stop himself from speaking, while you crouch in front of the machine and insert the cable into both outlets. You press the button and -ta-dah!- the system is fully functioning once more.

Jimin makes a fist in the air with a soft “yes” escaping his lips before he throws you a wink. “Thanks so much, babe, I promise I owe you brunch!” he claims before going on to inflate some more balloons.

You turn around with a triumphant smirk as Yoongi currently stares at the machine as if simply by staring he can make it stop working again.

“I could’ve done that if I knew you already had a cable...” he mumbles, almost in a pout and you have to remind yourself you don’t like him to stop staring.

You nod as if to appease him, crossing your arms on your chest, not knowing what to do with yourself now that you solved one problem. You figure Yoongi is gonna move along to some other thing, not wanting to be with you no more than necessary.

But he stays. For some reason you both just stand there, unsure of what to do as the other three guys run around the living room. As seconds tick by, you find yourself getting flustered -why are you getting flustered, Jesus- and Yoongi looks everywhere by you. His phone is on the kitchen island, why won’t he go there instead?

At some point, a gleam enters his eyes and he returns his stare to you, making you jump in alert.

“I, uuuh...” he starts, voice hesitant and you realise what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to hold a conversation with you. Be civil.

Though it’d be perfectly fine by you if he simply ignored you.

“I, uh, I like your costume! The perfect broke college student!” he says, clearly awkward with this. Your eyes drop to your clothes; you’re into a pair of grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt with black bean sauce spots on it and your hair is currently resembling a bird’s nest on top of your head.

And worst of all, it’s not a costume.

You press your lips tightly together to avoid cursing at him, seeing as he really seems to believe this is a costume.

“I’m.not.changed.yet,” you grit through your teeth and Yoongi’s eyes widen in horror.

For a second he stays like this, clearly shaken by his idiocy and you think he’ll start apologizing any second now.

Instead, he presses his lips together. As if trying not laugh.

Your eyes see red once more. This freaking asshole! You can’t be civil around him, that’s what it gets you! You have to bite the inside of your cheek to not go full berserk on him now. Instead, you turn around, the rolling of your eyes coming out instinctively as you stomp away to your room.

Once the door is closed the sound of unfiltered laughter is clear in your ears.

It’s been two hours, thirteen minutes and forty seconds since you’ve disappeared into your bedroom.

Not that Yoongi’s been counting or anything.

The party is in full bloom, everyone else already having shown up and Yoongi finds himself talking to Seokjin that came dresses as -surprise, surprise- a certain Italian plumber going by the name Mario.

He’s not exactly sure how he manages to do it every time. Pissing you off that is.

It is also unclear to him how he seamlessly fell into the position of your rival. He never wished to be, never tried to and somehow he always finds himself in this unfortunate situation.

A little voice in the back of his head warns him that it’s his own doing but he chooses to ignore that voice.

He stares into his cup lazily, the only true reason he came to the party missing and he sighs, because, honestly, like it wasn’t enough that he thought you were already in costume, he couldn’t keep the giggles to himself either.

He’s positive you’re fuming now and will certainly tear him a new one if given the chance. Jimin’s request for courtesy be damned.

And, as usual, instead of taking it like he should (seeing as he’s in the wrong), his competitive streak will make its appearance and he’ll act as if he’s done nothing to warrant such a reaction.

Sometimes Yoongi wonders what goes on in that mind of his. Clearly, there must be something wrong with it, for him to act like such a jackass to the girl he likes.

A movement to his right, not too far away from him, catches his eye and he turns his head instinctively towards the sudden motion, the thought that this is where your door is, briefly passing his mind.

Although, he ponders, maybe if he paid a little more attention to that thought, he wouldn’t be staring at you with his mouth open right now.

You finally decided to grace the party with your appearance, and Yoongi chuckles at the choice of words as he gazes at your costume.

You’re dressed in a white, midi, puffed skirt with black details around the waist paired with low, black kitten heels. On the top, you’re wearing a black, short-sleeved blouse with an almost off-shoulder, v-neck neckline, where a set of pearl earrings and necklace grace your skin. There’s a white, almost transparent shawl hanging softly from your arms and you’re sporting a pair of white gloves as well. Your hair is smooth, styled back and ending in big, slick curls at the bottom.

You’re dressed as Grace Kelly in the movie “Rear Window” and Yoongi can’t get his fucking eyes away from you.

Holy fuck, how do you look so beautiful?

Admittedly, to Yoongi you’d look beautiful even with a sack of potatoes but that’s not the point.

Well, he has no fucking idea what the point is. Maybe it’s his inability to form a coherent phrase in your presence without sounding like a completely pompous jerk. Maybe it’s the glint in your eyes as you take in the party and seem to finally enjoy the vibe. Or maybe it’s just the way he can’t keep his eyes away.

Your eyes find him for a second. Only for a second but it has you halting in your steps. You stare back, uncertain of why he does too, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you right now. He’s never looked at you like that before.

Or maybe you just hadn’t noticed.

You shake your head of any thoughts of him as you approach Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon across the living room.

There’s a whistling noise coming from Jimin’s best friend as Jimin’s eyes widen and Namjoon’s mouth hangs open at the sight of you in costume.

You smile knowingly at the three friends, giving them a twirl to see your skirt in action as you giggle joyfully.

“Look at you, hoe! You clean up niiiiiiice!” Jimin says, approaching you as his eyes travel all over the outfit with an appreciative glint.

“I only wanted to look my best for my roommate’s party!” you wink shamelessly at him and he giggles, shoving you lightly.

“And are you sure it had nothing to do with Yoongi’s comment earlier?” he asks mischievously and you lose your train of thought as you redden in embarrassment. You had no idea Jimin heard that but you’ll be damned if you let him think that’s true.

“Of course not! I had this planned the minute you said you were gonna throw a party!” you smile back, quickly composing yourself, although the costume you were actually planning on wearing mocks you from the floor of your bedroom where it’s currently laying.

Jimin enjoys the attention you’re giving him, quickly forgetting about the costume. “Stop flirting with me, it’ll get you nowhere!”

“Yeah, stop flirting with him, he’s mine!” Taehyung jokes, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. Although judging by their matching costumes as Sherlock and Watson and the blush currently occupying both of their cheeks, you’d say there’s more truth to that joke than they’d like to admit.

You raise your hands up in defeat as you turn to the third person there. “Namjoon what do you think? Is it good?” you ask him, motioning to the dress. But you fail to register Namjoon’s blown out eyes and the redness of his face.

“I, uhm... You’re beautiful, Y/N. Really,” he comments, although his voice sounds more like a stutter and when your eyes finally meet his, you can’t miss the way he visibly avoids looking into your eyes.

You bite your lip. He’s cute.

“Thank you, joonie!” you say, pecking his cheek that has him almost choking on his spit and you giggle at the boy’s clear awkwardness around women.

But as mirth enters your eyes, it’s quick to abandon them as you watch the other blond boy staring at you from his previous spot. Although seeing him look at you would quickly put a dump in your mood, this time his gaze is different. Different from usual and different from when you came out of your room.

His eyes are dark, staring deeply at you as if he’s trying to look right through you and your heartbeat quickens. His face is stoic, calm though you have a feeling it’s not in correspondence with his actual feelings. And for some reason, it’s making you feel things.

Dark, wicked, sinful things.

Then he smiles at you. It makes you exhale shakily and your legs tremble.

You quickly turn your gaze away, trying to resist the urge to hide your cheeks behind your hands, choosing to instead focus on what your other friends have been saying. Even if Yoongi’s gaze still lingers on your skin.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you started talking to Namjoon on the couch just to have your mind occupied with something else other than Yoongi.

Fortunately, you’ve found the rum storage to also keep you occupied, even if you’re currently on your third drink, already having a pleasurable buzz running through your bones.

You don’t know why you’re like this. You’re supposed to detest the boy’s presence, not feeling the need to drag him away and wipe that smirk off his lips with your own.

Jesus, what is wrong with you lately?

You hate to admit it, you really do but recently instead of wanting to choke him to death, you want him to choke you.

And not to death.

You keep picturing him between your breasts, between your thighs and his mocking words instead of putting you off, they rile you up even worse.

The chemistry seemed to always be there, you think, but you’ve only stumbled on it as of lately. As if it was always hiding in the shadows, waiting for the moment you got aware of it so it can finally burst and make you want to fuck him senseless.

“Y/N!”

You jump in your spot, quickly shaking away any remnants of your fantasies to stare back at Namjoon apologetically.

“Sorry, my mind wandered off, what were you saying?” you reply with a sheepish smile and Namjoon is quick to smile back at you.

“I was just asking if you dance?” he asks, tilting his head cutely at you but his question confuses you. Wasn’t he just talking about the newest tv series he started watching?

“I, uh, you mean generally or you asking me to dance?” you respond with a nervous chuckle. Although you doubt there’s anything to be nervous of. Namjoon sees you as a friend.

His smile gets bigger, as if not hearing the nervousness in your voice. “The second one,” he replies casually, too confident in himself and a portion of your mind is wondering where the awkward boy from before went.

The other portion, the bigger one is panicking.

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open. He can’t be serious, right? You’re just friends! Though when his gaze remains calm, hopeful as he stares at you, you realize that maybe Namjoon wants something more.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, how did you not see this coming?! If you just paid a little closer attention to him you’d realize he acted nervously around you because he liked you, not because of a sudden avoidance of women in general. Fuck, what are you supposed to tell him?

“Uuuh, I- I-” you stutter, trying to find the right words to say and Namjoon, bless him, looks confused but not suspicious enough to understand why you can’t give him an answer.

You take a breath. Okay, you got this. You’ll let him down gently and then-.

But your train of thought is interrupted when you notice the figure looming over the two of you ominously. Both pair of eyes rise up to see Yoongi currently staring at you with an indescribable expression on his face.

“Oh, hey, hyung, what’s up?” Namjoon asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes drifting between the two of you, fearful you might get into a physical altercation again.

You find your eyes glued to his, staring up at him from behind your eyelashes, heartbeat quickly rising as he keeps on staring back. Your breath quickens as well now that his undivided attention is on you, suddenly aware that your current position gives him a perfect view of your cleavage that rises and falls with every breath.

Something stirs up in your stomach at the thought, your tongue peeking out to wet your lip. His eyes seem to follow the movement, ravenous and greedy as his own tongue pokes at his cheek in which can only be described as the most sensual thing you ever saw. You find it hard to swallow, not knowing what to say or do, completely under the spell of his eyes.

He presses his lips together to hide his smirk, with a confident tilt of his head as his eyes run up and down your body and you feel your arousal pooling in your abdomen. God, you wanna bite that smirk off his lips.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” he finally replies, voice deep and rough as he crosses his arms on his chest. The movement has the muscles ripple beneath his shirt and your mouth waters almost instinctively. You clear your throat, otherwise your answer might have come out in the form of squeaks.

“Sure...” you meet his gaze, crossing your arms on your chest as you wait for him to go on. Yoongi sees the silent challenge hidden in your eyes and you almost see the cogs running in his head as he ponders on his next move.

He doesn’t relent though, his gaze as intense as ever on you. “Private...”

You stare at him for a second, with narrowed eyes. Should you go with him? You don’t know if you should. But you admit it gives you an easy way out of that conversation with Namjoon.

So with a huff, you get up from your seat, smoothing over the wrinkles in your skirt.

“Sorry, Joon, I’ll be back in a bit...” you turn to say to the younger man with a smile. Namjoon quickly gets over his shock before he nods at you with a smile. Yoongi instead rolls his eyes, before his palm wraps around your wrist to guide you through the party.

You gasp at the sudden touch of his skin on your but you’re pretty sure the sound of the speakers masked the sound from his ears. You let him lead you through the crowd until you end up in the corridor and walk into the pantry room.

Once the door is closed, Yoongi frees your wrist to fall lifelessly at your side and at once your arms end up hugging your middle protectively. You pay him no attention as he closes the door, instead looking everywhere else besides his back that strains under that shirt.

Though that alone isn’t capable of helping you avoid the newly rush of exhilaration running through your body at the thought of being closed up in such a narrow space together.

“So what did you want to tell me...?” you ask, impatient as your leg bounces up and down, still refusing to look at him, in case your feelings and thoughts are written on your face.

Yoongi doesn’t respond. Instead, he climbs up at one of the counters to sit down, grabbing an almost empty jar of peanut butter and proceeding to lick the spoon inside clean.

Your eyes now find him, narrowed and confused as he seems to not pay you any attention. A moment passes where he doesn’t reply; really he doesn’t do anything but lick the peanut butter of that spoon.

Not wanting to wait anymore, you throw your hands up in the air with a huff before they land on your waist in what you hope seems like a threatening stance. “Well?”

Finally, his eyes rise to meet yours as if only now becoming aware of your presence there in the same room as him. He takes a look at you, a good look that has you shuffling on your spot before he goes in to scoop some more of the spread.

“You’re out of peanut butter,” he simply retorts, taking another spoonful into his mouth.

You stare at him, not entirely sure if you heard right.

We’re out of peanut butter?

This can’t be the reason why he wanted to talk to you, right? Although when he makes no other comment on that or really anything else, you realize that that’s all he wanted to say to you.

“Are you serious? That’s why you brought me here?” you exclaim, voice rising in anger with the absurdity of the situation. Did he really have to drag you all the way here just to tell you that?

Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly, his messy blonde looks falling on top of his eyes as he refuses to look at you.

You press your lips together to suppress your rage. He’s toying with you.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction of giving him a reaction.

Instead, you let out a heavy sigh and shaking your head. No, you won’t curse at him, you won’t talk to him, you won’t even look at him. You’re just gonna get out.

You walk to the door, ready to meet the outside world once more but when you move the handle down, the door won’t budge. So you try again. No luck. You realize it’s locked, another wave of rage overwhelming you when you realize Yoongi just locked the two of you here with no explanation whatsoever.

And no, the absence of peanut butter doesn’t count.

You turn around rushedly, eyes already furious on him as you clench your jaw, trying too hard to ignore how casually hot he looks dressed as Han Solo and eating what’s left of your peanut butter. “That’s not funny.”

His eyes still remain on the almost empty jar, not giving you a spare look. “What’s not funny?”

Your fists tighten in an attempt to not yell at him. “Yoongi give me the key.”

Finally, your words seem to reach him as he raises his face to meet your own with a facade of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he has the audacity to say before a traitorous smirk covers his lips.

One that makes your insides clench and your anger to magnify.

“Give me the goddamn key, Yoongi,” you bite back, taking short, booming steps towards him and instead of quivering back in fear, his smirk grows.

Shit, you wanna fuck him so bad.

“I don’t have it,” he says with a shit-eating grin, one that matches both him and his costume so well, one reeks of cockiness and boldness and all logic flies out the window.

You quit playing nice.

Your hands drag him off the countertop as they search roughly through his garments to find that fucking key so you can get out of here, further away from him before you do something you’ll regret.

But he laughs at your antics, clearly not taking you seriously as he lets you search him all over. When you come up empty with a heave of frustration, you shove him back, his hips colliding with the counter as your arms cage him between the marble and your body. A stray hair has left your perfectly composed hairdo and you huff it out of your face as you stare at Yoongi with laboured breaths. He stares back, eyes lazily traveling your form and even though you’re the one trapping against the counter he looks entirely too comfortable.

Like he’s got you right where he wanted.

You heave against him, chest almost brushing his own as you try to clear your head enough of sinful thoughts to pay attention to the urgency here. Although with how his arms bulge underneath his shirt, how his collarbones peak from beneath the fabric, how his thighs seem to fill out his jeans, how that fucking grin seems etched into his lips, you’d say your tries were in vain.

You’re careful not to touch when you speak again, although your traitorous eyes trail the pumping veins at the side of his neck. “Where is it?”

His smirk only grows, tilting his head to the side as he looks at your lips through hooded eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

You’re taken aback by his question, not quite knowing how to answer it as his eyes fall to the bare skin beneath your neck. A sharp inhale resonates around the room, belatedly realizing it came from you and before you get to answer Yoongi speaks again.

“Back pocket on my left.”

Your frown deepens. “Give it to me.”

And his smirk grows. “Get it yourself.”

Your lips press together at that. His back pocket is currently pressed against the counter and there’s no way to get that key without touching his ass.

Fuck.

Though his eyes raise a challenge. One that says you won’t be able to do it.

So, true to your natural instincts to oppose him, you take a prideful breath before your hand dives between the counter and his body.

His eyes widen for a millisecond, clearly not expecting this from you but he’s quick to disguise the reaction. He stares leisurely at you instead, licking his lips with interest as his eyes fall to your breasts as you come closer.

You try to ignore the feeling of his plump ass against your hand as you search for his pocket. But then you also have to ignore your chest pushing on his own, leaving no room for decency as your bating breath fans over his lips with the contact. Your heartbeat quickens once more with the proximity, failing to hide your blushed cheeks from how close to him you are.

Yoongi’s eyes move to your lips and they stay there, watching your mouth exhaling softly with every breath and he has half a mind to not kiss you senseless right now.

You swear you won’t be able to take any more of this. You’re one step away of yielding when your hand finally feels something cold and metallic. You’re swift in taking the key out of his pocket, ready to gloat in his face but as you do so, his hands are quicker. As you’re ready to lean away from him, they’re already landing on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh and pulling you flash against him.

There’s a gasp tumbling out of your mouth at the unexpected gesture, the key falling from your hands as they fly to grasp at his shoulders in surprise. You’re now standing a hair’s breadth away from one another, his breath mingling with yours as your eyes stare unabashedly at each other.

“You... you did this on purpose you prick...” you whisper, breathless as your eyes fall to his plump looking lips, ready to be devoured.

This time he doesn’t smirk, clearly as affected as you as he can’t help but stare bewitched at your mouth. “Do you want me to let you out?” he breathes back.

At any other given moment, you wouldn’t have hesitated. You’d be out of the room in seconds, trying to get him out of your hair. But tonight is different. It is as if everything tonight happened to converge together so this moment could come. So he could ask you that question. So you could only reply with one word.

“No,” and you dive in, finally kissing him.

A sound of surprise escapes his lips but then he presses you closer, body moulding against yours as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. An animalistic growl falls free from his mouth, taking your bottom lip in between his lips, tugging it roughly, making a moan roll from your tongue. Your hands fly to grip at his shirt to press him closer, accidentally grazing across his milky skin and he feels cools beneath your fingers.

He’s quick to roughly press you up against the opposite wall, hands flying to grasp your own and push them over your head. You moan at the impact, feeling your arousal flowing from your cunt, ruining your panties and your legs rub together to get some much-needed relief.

Yoongi curses as he sees the motion, grabbing your hands with one hand as the other dives down to bunch up as much as he can of your skirt and wedge a leg beneath your own. You whine at the contact, moving your lips against his flexed thigh, the friction feeling deliciously against your clit.

“Yeah, you like that, princess? Wait till I’m done with you, you won’t even know your name,” he murmurs seductively against your ear before grazing it with his teeth. A moan of his name escapes you, no shame or pride left in you; only that carnal, animalistic need to get off.

“Fuck, fuck, please...” you plead as Yoongi peppers kisses on your jaw, your eyes closed in concentration as you drive your hips relentlessly against him.

“Please what? use your words...” he teases against your lips before leaving a languid kiss. His lips melt with yours slowly, the sound of your mouths colliding wet and arousing, as his tongue dives in to meet your own. Then his mouth travels lower, resting on top of your collarbones, leaving soft kisses that slowly turn into bites.

“Please, I need you... I need your-” your rant gets interrupted by a loud cry when Yoongi sucks a particularly rough hickey on your neck.

He seems to be enjoying this too much, having you at last to himself, moaning his name like it’s the only thing you need. “You need my what?” he asks teasingly, already knowing what you’ll say but once again you take him by surprise.

“Your hand. Your fingers. I need your fingers,” you manage to utter through heavy breaths, your hips still moving on top of his thigh, chasing after your high.

“My fingers, huh...?” he breathes against your neck as his tongue dives to lick against a freshly forming hickey. You hum in content as his kisses move upwards. “You need my fingers to do what? To toy with your clit until you’re screaming my name for everyone here to hear? To plunge into your cunt, knuckles deep until you’re a sobbing mess and asking me to stop?” his voice resonates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine along with the picture his words paint and, fuck, you want that so bad.

“Or do you need them...” his hand on your waist that’s holding your skirt up, moves upwards, letting the skirt fall over his thigh as well, and skims over your tummy, your breasts until it encloses its fingers around your neck. “... to choke you while I pound into you until you can’t take no more?” he says the same time he presses his fingers against your throat, a sharp inhale coming from you.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, rushed exhales leaving you as you can’t decide which one you want more. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you want them all.

Yoongi smiles wickedly at you before both his hands abandon your body; only to land on the waistband of your skirt and drag it down your legs. He throws the article of clothing away, before he’s on you again, kissing you harshly, hands tangling into your hair as he presses against you while yours meet at the nape of his neck.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of time before someone realizes we’re gone. But I promise to repay you heartily next time...” he whispers against your lips before his hands swoop beneath your thighs to carry you and this time you’re the one sitting on the counter with Yoongi between your legs.

You don’t mind his proposition as you both rush to get him out his confinements. He gets out the vest quickly, tossing it aside as you move to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, letting them fall to rest just on top of the swell of his ass. His fingers are reaching for your underwear, dragging it down your legs to let it fall to the floor as you finally get him out of his boxers.

He’s already hard, standing tall and stiff against his stomach, veins already running down the length of his cock and your mouth salivates. Your fingers wrap around his dick, slowly moving up and down and Yoongi lets out a heavy exhale as his forehead rests on your shoulders.

You pick up the pace, his hips faltering as they begin moving in time with your hand, chasing after his own high. Then he curses out loud, the sound carnal, sending another wave of slick down to your thighs before he pushes your hand away.

“Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming on your hand...” he admits before grabbing at his cock to drive it slowly over your folds. You hiss at the contact, moving your hips instinctively to get your slick all over him and he bites his lip with so much force you think he’s gonna draw blood.

But then he pushes the head of his cock past your folds, having you biting his neck to stop from screaming too loud. He groans at the feeling of your velvety walls encompassing him and once he’s fully inside you he stops to take a breath.

It’s not enough for you though to gather your wits, before he slams into you.

“Fuck!” this time you can’t do nothing to control the cry that comes from your lips, nails digging into the flesh of his biceps. His jaw is clenched in concentration as his fingers grab harshly at your hips for leverage before he begins pounding into you.

The moans roll down your tongue without stopping, not having much of a mind to remember you’re currently in the middle of a party where anywhere can pass by and hear what you’ve been onto all this time. Or you simply don’t care, you can’t distinguish the difference anymore. The only thing that makes sense right now is the feeling of his dick driving into you.

Yoongi keeps thrusting into you, matching each movement with a low grunt, the sounds coming from him sounding filthy in your ears, making your arousal grow.

“Fuck, Yoongi, don’t stop...” you say breathlessly, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. His eyes finally move to your face for the first time since he entered you and something crosses his face as if he suddenly remembered something.

He smirks sinfully at you before one hand abandons your hips to caress the top of your breasts. Your eyes widen in excitement, hoping he’ll do what he promised as his palm now rests over your collarbones. Before his fingers finally reach your neck and softly press against the spots that have your head getting lightheaded.

You suck in a breath before your air supply gets cut off, mouth dropping open in complete ecstasy.

“F-fuck...” you stutter, eyes closing to concentrate better on the feeling of his cock inside you.

His hand on your neck pushes you back in an angled position that has his cock pushing repetitively against your g-spot and you cry out loud. Your hand flies behind to grasp at the shelf above you as you struggle to keep up. Your hips are relentless against his own as each thrust gets rougher and rougher than the rest. His grunts are louder and louder, signalling his close end and his other hand abandons your hips as well to come and rest at your clit.

You inhale sharply as much as you can when he begins rubbing the sensitive nub slowly, steadily but then he picks up the pace as he feels his high nearing as does yours with every thrust

“Fuck, Y/N, look at you, fucking look at you. So fucked out, so wrecked by my cock, fuck, I’ll, fucking, ruin, you,” he says lastly between his last powerful thrusts that have you both unravelling against each other. You come with a loud cry of his name, clenching uncontrollably against him as he finally lets your neck, the incoming breath adding to your high.

He curses out loud, coming with one final thrust, rope after rope of cum painting your walls as you both lay against each other breathless.

A minute or two pass like this, with his head hiding at your neck as you both calm down. Then you feel him pressing soft kisses on your skin, something that has you take a double take on him.

He feels you shifting beneath him so he raises his head to look at you with a goofy smile on his lips, that has your chest constrict wildly.

He’s... dare you say, cute?

“Uhm, what are you doing?” you ask confused and he tilts his head at you like a confused puppy.

“It’s called kissing I don’t know if you ever heard of it...” he says with a soft smile before pressing another kiss at the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widen, not at all used at this side of his as he’d usually mock you or tease you.

Although you’ve never really been in a similar situation with him before so you can’t really tell if this is usual for him.

Yoongi seems to sense your apprehension so he stops kissing you and leans back to get a better look at you.

“I thought you hated me...” you manage to mumble in utter confusion on this new side of him. You’re not used to it, you don’t know how to handle it and frankly, it makes you feel all sort of weird things you’ve never felt before.

Not about him at least.

He has the decency to look somewhat remorseful over your words. “Yeah... I never actually hated you... I was just avoiding you cause you made me nervous...” he admits, rubbing a hand at the nape of his neck awkwardly and your eyes widen at his confession.

You made him nervous?

“...And I guess me avoiding you didn’t help into you liking me either....” he observes sheepishly as you still stare at him shocked out of your wits.

Yoongi... likes you?

“So, uhm... I figured since we already did... that...” he says, entirely too innocently compared to what happened merely minutes ago and your heart does that thing again. That thing that makes you wanna pinch his cheeks or bake him a cake or something.

“That maybe... If you want... maybe I could take you out on a date?” he finishes with a flinch as if expecting you to immediately refuse him. To be honest your mind still tries to wrap around everything. You just had sex with him in your pantry room, his cock is still inside you, admittedly soft but that’s not the point, and he just asked you out on a date.

You’ve done weirder things, haven’t you?

Besides you’d hate to see his face fall if you deny him that.

Who would’ve thought?

Later, when you’re out of the pantry room with no one having a single clue of what you did, your eyes keep finding each other like a pair of lovesick teenagers.

Admittedly it’s all still new to you, but you don’t mind the way he’s looking at you. Or the way your heart beats when you catch him staring. You can get used to this.

You think no one has a single clue of what happened between the two of you. But at some point, Jimin happened to pass by the pantry room and heard things he didn’t wanna hear.

Now he’s scared for life but judging by the looks you keep exchanging with Yoongi, he’d say it was all worth it.

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larksinging · 5 years ago

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guess what it’s @transrobro ‘s birthday!! hx asked for one of our bioshock aus so i was happy to do a werewolf au. you gotta

jay you are easily my best friend and i cannot tell you how much its meant to me to have you in my life. i know things have been hard but i am constantly proud of you for doing what you can to take care of yourself in the face of... everything. you have such a distinctive style and everything that so many things i see are just jay energy. im trying to be meaningful and sappy but i cant think of words to express how important you are and how much you deserve. so i hope you have a good birthday because you absolutely deserve it

“It’s nowhere near the full moon,” Elizabeth replies carefully. What? They don’t need to--

Oh. “You’ve never shifted without it, have you.”

“Well--” Elizabeth fusses with her fingers and Booker realizes he might just have to talk her through it.

The sharp sting of Elizabeth’s wake-up cocktail in his arm drags Booker back to consciousness. He groans and waves her off from where she’s still tugging on her arm.

“How many are left?” Booker asks as he slowly sits up. Elizabeth peers out of the window of the little abandoned shop she’d apparently dragged him into.

“I don’t see any,” She says, “Maybe they retreated?”

“Or they’re falling back to gather their strength for a second push,” He grumbles. Elizabeth frowns but gives him a medkit, which he gratefully uses. After cleaning up, he takes a look out the window again. “Well, we can’t go that way.”

“Really? What makes you say that?”.

“Look at you, making a joke,” He shoots right back. As much as he’s joking, there’s a touch of pride in his voice, even if he doesn’t mean it. Ever since her accidental reveal that she’s also a wolf, he’s been stuck with a bit of a protective streak. The wolf instinct won’t change anything, but still.

“There’s another way,” He says, pointing to some rubble at the other edge of the store. He’d scoped it out while they were fighting -- a bit of a narrow passage under a half collapsed building, but still. “But we won’t fit.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“A wolf might. So c’mon.”

Elizabeth freezes, and Booker just frowns at her. The girl has all sorts of odd habits -- most of which he quietly notes but says nothing about -- but this seems especially odd. Surely he isn’t asking that much.

“It’s nowhere near the full moon,” Elizabeth replies carefully. What? They don’t need to--

Oh. “You’ve never shifted without it, have you.”

“Well--” Elizabeth fusses with her fingers and Booker realizes he might just have to talk her through it. How hard can that be? Not that he’s ever thought too hard about it. Okay, Booker, breath.

“Alright,” He says after letting her stew in her embarrassment for a bit. “Close your eyes and focus.”

To her credit, she only looks skeptical for a moment before she does as he says.

“You just need to… think of something positive you associate with the wolf.” Yeah, that’ll do. He always taps into the freedom of it, the lack of worry for a little while. But her? “Think about all the running out under the… uh…. That is…”

“I get what you mean,” She interrupts to spare him from stammering. She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.”

There’s not much else he can do to help at this point, so he takes a step back and focuses on his own transformation. After so many years of practice, it’s smooth and effortless, not like the inevitable pain of the full-moon transition. So he sits on his paws and waits.

Maybe it's that he’s never seen anyone else shift in such close proximity, but the air around her shimmers strange and fragile while she goes wolf. Strange, he thinks, and then leaves it at that. She has the good sense to shake herself off.

Her wolf is a little smaller than his, understandably. Her fur’s a bit darker, except for her pale underbelly. Funny. Then again, he hasn’t met too many other wolves. Maybe they all just look alike.

He turns his head to the way he found while she follows on unsteady paws. It is quieter going this way, under rubble and through narrow tunnels, even if he hears Elizabeth behind him sneezing at the smoke. She’ll adjust.

Eventually they come out the other side, into an open courtyard. He lifts his head to try and check for any lingering enemies (meanwhile, in the corner of his eye, Elizabeth sniffs around the trash cans for anything useful).

When he decides everything’s all clear, he grumbles lowly to try and summon her back. Elizabeth trots over to him again, her ears twitching wildly every which direction. As they set off again, he spots a raven lingering a little too close and snaps at it. The thing flies off, but Elizabeth -- well, she takes this as an invitation.

Booker watches as Elizabeth takes off after the rest of the flock, snapping at the air and spinning in circles to try and catch them. He barks at her once, and Elizabeth slinks back over to him with her ears pinned and tail low.

...But he remembers. Learning how to shift, running out in the woods and along the river. He’d seen that tower: spacey for a girl, confined for a wolf. So he huffs and nods to the birds again. Elizabeth takes this permission and literally runs with it, going fully puppy-mode to chase the birds again.

As he watches, Booker thinks: maybe it’s good she’s not so alone. Maybe it’s good for him, too.

#gift fic #transrobo #enjoy. you know how i love writing wolves.

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sootcloak · 4 years ago

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Crow’s Shadow: Carrion Circle

Second part of a short serial installment I’m working on as a general exercise on plotting, editing and the like. You can find the other parts linked here - {Part One: Repair Required} - I’ll add the last link once Part Three is up. Same spoiler warnings as Part One apply. Same general content warnings apply.

~2400 words, featuring Hilda the Mongrel and Rostnthal the Reborn. Centered around a tense cross country trip, and the looming specter of a dangerous foe. Twelve help me I’d hoped I could fit more of the plot into this one the last part is gonna be so long, such a pain to edit.

A cold, mountain spring cuts through the highlands. The water runs babbling over old, long-smooth stones. Along its bank, a cart is still. A pair of chocobos sleep, curled in on one another. Bright yellow feathers pool starkly against the grey and white of the highland’s snow-covered earth.

The campfire, dim and growing colder by the minute, pops and sizzles in the moonlit dark. Every few moments, the earth rumbles with a heavy snore from deep in Rostnthal’s chest. The old Sea Wolf is leaned up against the back of one of the birds, a canvas sheet thrown over both he and the chocobo. Hilda lies beneath the cart itself, nestled up in a tight ball of quilts and jackets.

In the back of the cart, Vavara rifles through the packed supplies. She loads specially marked shells into her revolver. It’s reflective white metal glints in the moonlight. It has a mirror shine in the dead of night, it’s engravings doing little to break up the perfect polish she’s maintained. It is a slow process, painstaking with just one hand. The cartridges hum and vibrate in their chambers, the ether concentrate within nervously singing to her heightened hearing.

Six shots in each cylinder.

If he’s there, it’ll take at least fifteen of these to break his barrier. Even with aether-charged rounds, the inadequacy of her armaments hangs over her. Missing an arm means choosing between her spear and a firearm. Damaged as she is, she might not even have enough aether at her disposal to ignite the spearblade.The core nested between her lungs is pressed cold and stark against her heart, like a long-dull knife. Her soul, nestled within it’s crystal depths, aches from long-faded scars. Her whole body would be a treasure trove for him, secrets to decipher, power to steal. Weapons to wield.

Even then, measured against his life - her secrets, her safety, all things are cast into the pot.

She loads a spare cylinder with slow, committed strokes. It’ll take a long time to reload the weapon, even with this preparation.. She didn’t pick this hand, but she’ll play it till the cards are on the table. Folding was never an option, anyways.

Light falls on the small camp, the morning sun casting light into the narrow crevice beneath the cart. Hilda wakes up with a yawn. Her arms stretch across the dirt, eyes squeezed shut. She growls softly deep in her chest, and sits up. Her forehead slams into the wood with an audible crunch.

“Seven hells-” She snarls.

“Gyahah!” Rostnthal’s laughter echoes over the small glade, watching with a gleaming eye as she clutches her forehead.

“‘Ey, Ashenheart! I won! Ye’ owe me a drink when we get back!” His grin is audible, a chuckle reverberating in his voice.

“I never agreed to playing your game.” Vavara says. “Besides, I owe you more than a drink if we all return safely.”

“Heh. Humorless. What with ye’ hangin with the Scions lately, thought you may’ve lightened up some. Guess even they can’t get ye’ out’a that shell.” His voice is no less mirthful, seemingly unfazed by her chilled tone.

“A’ight, come get yer food. Breakfast’s done.” He slaps the side of the kettle, ringing loud and full. Still groaning and clutching a bloodied face, Hilda drops into a cross-legged sit besides Rostnthal.

They goad and poke at one another, the words fading into white noise as Vara sits atop the cart.Her eyes’ light dims, old, ash-soaked memories rising from the shadows of memory. A wave of nauseating nostalgia hits her in the gut.

“You not eating?” Hilda prods Vara with an empty bowl. The old, smoke-scented memories submerge into the dark again.

“Not right now. I had hardtack before you two were up.” She pushes herself up to her feet, her arm stretching, slight shoulders squaring for a moment under the winter overcoat.

“I’ll get the birds ready while you two eat. We need to move soon.” Her footsteps crunch in the snow as she walks away. A hanging tension in the air slowly seeps into the air as she walks away.

“Y’know,” Rostnthal calls out, voice low and rumbling. “Ye’ still haven’t told us where we’re goin’. Or anything else of substance, really.”

“Yes,” She says as she hoists the barding onto one of the birds. She glances over her shoulder, eyes dimly glowing with an unnatural, cold light in the shadow of the brim of her cap. “I am aware.” The words are biting, dismissive.

“D’ye intend for us to go into whatever trouble is brewing blind?” His tone is calm and grim, his one, good eye locked on hers.

“I do.” She returns his gaze, ironclad.

“An’ if that means things get bloodier than they ‘ad to?”

“It won’t. I can’t protect you on the battlefield. Not in my condition.” She turns away, leading the chocobos to the cart’s front. She clips their barding in, the ‘coos’ and ‘kwehs’ of the birds giving her occasional pause to double check her work.

“So you won’t be there.” She says without turning. “I’ll be leaving you and the birds out of danger. When my student finds you, you’ll take him to Dragonhead.”

“Wait, what?” Hilda pauses halfway between bites, eyes narrowing. “I came out here to help, not to be a damned taxi. You’re not traipsing off on your own, ‘specially not after all your talk about this fucker who’s hunting you.”

“You want to help?” Vara’s grip on the wood tightens, words turning venomous. “Then I’ve told you how. You want to die? Then go on, follow me after we part ways.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Hilda’s tone sours, “What’s your deal? We went over this on our first day out, and now half a week in you’re changing your tune? We know it’s dangerous, we get it.”

She sets her half-finished meal aside, standing up. Her hands come to rest on her hips, Rostnthal’s eye moving to rest on her.

“We signed on for this. We knew it’d get bloody, we knew it’d be a close thing. Y’think we’ve not learned to read you? That we were blind to what we were getting into?” She says, defiantly staring down at Vavara.

“So you’re going to ride in and save the day? Vanquish the bad man with your shiny gun and sporty marksmanship? You think you have what it takes to stand against a man who’s decided he’d rather be a demon?” Vavara takes a deep, steadying breath. There’s something about the question which makes Rostnthal’s hairs stiffen. The skin on the back of his arms and back prickles. He’s still watching Hilda, a blooming anxiousness slowly taking up more space in his chest. He pushes the feeling down.

“Wouldn’t have stepped up if I didn’t think I could help” Hilda says, “An’ I may not be some vaunted champion of the realm like those you’ve been keepin’ the company of, but I-”

“You sound like a child. Too busy playing hero to see the danger you’re in.” Vavara’s chiding words cut through her momentum.

“What do you believe you are wagering? Your life? That in failure, you would die?” Her laugh is a single, wrenching cough. “This isn’t a battle of life and death. I’d sooner shoot myself in the head than allow any of those ‘vaunted champions’ to face him. Even the Warrior of Light, no especially the Warrior of Light.

“He does not kill. He captures. And those he captures become another one of the Empire’s experimental weapons. You would not die, you would become a monster to be sicked on your allies, your friends, and your loved ones.

“So I will face him alone. And you two will ensure an innocent boy does not become a monster because my past came to call. And if after hearing that, you still want to be the hero? Fine. You can be like all the others before you and die like one, too.” Her voice nearly chokes at the end. Shoulders tense, she pushes out a hoarse, whistling breath.

“I’ll do what I do best. Survive. And whatever I have to do to make sure he gets through this too? I’ll pay that price. Worry about yourself.”

“Vavara.” Rostnthal says, leaning in. “What’s so important about this kid that yer so concerned about ‘im getting captured.”

“Nothing. He’s just-” She begins, only for him to hold up one hand to silence her.

“Ye’ never go this far ‘just because’. I’ve seen ye’ in the ‘eat of battle. Cuttin losses ‘as never been somethin’ yer averse to. Even with lives. So if this kid is a hazard to himself more than anyone else, I reckon ye’d try and save him, sure. But to be willin’ to train and tutor a complete greenhorn, let alone throw yerself into the fire for ‘im?? Doesn’t add up.”

He waits. His eye locked on her back, her greying, braided hair shifting with a breeze. Hilda glances between the two, silence bubbling and steaming with tension.

“He is Blessed.” She speaks with a hushed admission, her voice accompanied by an undercurrent of choked, hissing metal.

“And from my observations, he has an aptitude for its power rarely seen. But he is young, foolhardy. I took him in because he otherwise would have found the Scions. And I refuse to see them make another martyr.” She glances back to the other two, over her good shoulder.

“His power will invite controversy and challenge, especially if he cannot wield it. And should Llain capture him, the prospect of an anti-eikon weapon imbued with the power of the Echo is a looming threat I cannot risk. If he can wield the Echo, if he learns how to use it to reinforce his sense of self and being, then he would retain his sanity through any kind of augmentation. Any kind of torment.” Her hand reaches up and rests flat against her chest, claw-tipped fingers scraping against the cloth and leather of her coat.

“His soul could reside in even steel and crystal, and be unharmed by the process. But if he is captured before he learns to understand and wield the Echo, he could well become a weapon of terrifying power. An incarnation of death made manifest in steel and ceruleum.”

“I refuse to be the mother of death.” She says, softly, almost-inaudibly.

Rostnthal opens his mouth to speak, but the glare he receives from her in return stifles him for a moment.

“None of that changes what you must do. I trust you enough to determine your own path, if you will not heed my warnings. I will tell you what you need to know, even if it is not all you want to know.”

“No, it does change what we need to do. Whether you think so or not.” Hilda says, her confidence returning.

“That kid. What’s his name?” She asks, eyes fixed on Vavara’s.

“Tahve’ir.”

“Well, he’s going to need a teacher still, by your tone. So getting him out isn’t enough. I’ve got to make sure you both get out.”

“And if you can’t?” Vavara says as the two share a long, grim stare.

“Then I get him out, and come back for you. You said he doesn’t kill, and I doubt he can make it back to Garlemald in a single night. So, we get Tahve’ir out, and if you get caught in the meantime, I’ll run back and get you out in the night.”

“Nah.” Rostnthal’s voice rumbles softly, quietly. “Ye’ ain’t got experience with that kinda work. I’ve ran with the yellow jackets and the like, bustin’ slave rings and smashin’ smugglin’ ops. If she gets caught and we have to pull out, I’ll go. An’ you’ll take the kid.” He looks towards Hilda, a confident spark in his eye.

“Alright. Best not mess it up, y’old drunkard.” Hilda says, she cocks a nervous grin and playfully jabs his arm. He just chuckles grimly.

“So you won’t heed my warnings.” Vavara’s voice is distant, a kind of shrill, haunting whistle riding under the injured voice. “It always happens like this.”

“Chin up.” He says, crossing the distance between himself and her in a few steps. He drops to one knee, and rests one hand on her shoulder. He grips her softly, confidently.

“I’m not ignorin’ what ye’ said. We can’t win in a direct fight? Then we’ll just have to run ‘im ‘round the bush. Keep ‘im guessin’. Keep ‘im dazed. We’ll work on strategies on the way there.” He takes a deep breath, and then stands. He climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Have faith.” He says, patting the birds with a solid, steady palm. “‘Ave faith, an’ all will be well. Besides. Yer not meant t’look so glum. Doesn’t suit yer’ image. Times like these, a snarl’s better.”

She just takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and nods.

She jumps up into the back of the cart as Hilda finishes dumping the last bits of the kettle, and scooping her bowl back up into one hand. The dinnerware sack lands in the back with a cataclysmic, chaotic crash.

As soon as her boots are fixed upon the wood, Rostnthal whips the reins and the birds kick up dust as they run.

The sun sinks back low in the sky again. Pale-red light streaks across the untamed mountains between Ishgard and Ala Mhigo.

A small shack with a sprawling, chaotic garden sits on a low, narrow plateau. Heavy, metal boots scratch into the wet, snow-melt fed earth. A man with sandy skin, a straight back and strong shoulders stands at the edge of the homestead. His hair is neatly, painstakingly pulled into a long, salt and pepper braid. It rests on his armored pauldrons, and hangs down to his waist. His eyes, a gilded, ember orange, take in the small, humble abode.

In one hand, he holds a thick, angular blade. It’s gunmetal edge reflects no light, despite the bright morning. Coarse and rough, like a painted, sharp thorn of ink clutched tight.

In the other, he holds a stark, shining revolver. It’s pearly white metal casts myriad colors onto the ground around him, and up onto his own blackened platemail.

In the light of dusk, his aura shines bright and ethereal around him. Dancing, half-there reflections in intangible glass.

He takes a deep breath, and cracks a cheery grin His shadow stretches over the gardens in the evening light. He can smell the faintest hint of ceruleum in the air.

“Finally. Progress.” His smile is all teeth and ambition.

#ffxiv #ffxiv creative writing #aegis' writing archive #hilda the mongrel #rostnthal the reborn #Vavara Ashenheart #vavara kir vara #llain rem corvis #ok so i was Not Expecting the last part to get seen at all and then uh #then it got seen by someone who i respect and all of a sudden it got a small handful of notes and reads #gave me the motivation i needed to get this to a point where i'm comfortable enough to post it #i'm also genuinely a little more confident in this portion of the exercise #not because i think it's any better?#cuz honestly not a lot happens #it's just setting up the big climax as best as i can so that it has some weight.#but when i read through aloud and silently during editing it all flowed much better #and that was my biggest self critique of the last part was that certain parts just would not flow at ALL #i also feel i captured Vara's cold dismissive tone better here #she's not a necessarily bad person but she's definitely Not Nice #also just for mobile formatting using the double dashes to try and signal line breaks will hopefully help make it more legible in general #insert boilerplate 'i hate this formatting on this site' here #anyways thanks for hearing me rant and for supposedly reading #means a lot to me #have a lovely day fuckers

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