#mini one-shot

[kensington-queen]

My Things, Your Space

Fandom: Her Love in the Force 

Pairing: Kaga/MC

Rating: Fluffy T 

Mini-One Shot

AO3 Link: Here 

It happens gradually and becomes so ingrained as part of his normal that he doesn’t notice until long after the fact.

It starts minor enough, a spare toothbrush becomes claimed by her soon after her first sleepover. She lives in the dorm, where he can’t risk being seen so his place becomes the default setting for home dates. Her overnight bag is slung over her shoulders each time she comes over, packed with her favorite shampoo and face wash brands. He takes note of it a couple of weeks later when he finds her drying the bottles after being used so she can take them back to the dorm. The next time she arrives he has new ones lined up on the shower shelf below his own toiletries, out in the open and ready to be used. He adds pads and tampons to his shopping list, placing them under the bathroom sink in case she needs them after an emergency run to the shop. He even goes as far as getting girly shaving cream and her own razor, having noticed she’s been discreetly using his own. Not that he minds that. He just wants her to feel comfortable in his space.

As her first year winds down and he finds himself crankier in the mornings when she doesn’t stay over, he tries to not think too hard about why that is.

When graduation becomes less of an abstract idea for her and more of a matter of time, and right before she’s given a spare key, he clears out a section of the drawers for her clothes. She’s been increasing the amount of time she spends at his, and it’s gotta be annoying to have to remember to bring an overnight bag each time she comes over. He gets her some more of the lingerie she wears and some more practical ones for when she has training and slips it into the drawer, washed and ready to be worn the next time she stays over.

At some point before she graduates she stops needing to bring an overnight bag, but when that actually happens neither can really pinpoint. He also stops asking her if she’s staying over too, an unspoken understanding that he doesn’t have to ask because the answer is obvious.

She has her own little place after graduation, but more of her things are at his than there, and it’s more common to see her in his kitchen sneakily attempting to slip vegetables into his portion of dinner than it is to eat alone.

He starts wondering why they’re keeping up a farce of her maintaining an apartment when she could be saving that money and living with him. It annoys him that Captain Tsugaru is just upstairs, able to track when she comes and goes, and he doesn’t like the idea of her interacting with him any more than she has to.

“You should just move in already,” he grumbles over breakfast before work, seven months after he’s been calling her a colleague and referring to her privately as his unofficial fiancee. The ring has been hidden for a couple of months, and a plan to make it open and public is not too far off.

“There’s a ban on department romances, remember?” She reminds him, smiling when he narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. She thinks of the ring he has hidden, suppressing a smile. She’s been patiently waiting to be asked since she accidentally came across it.

“You’re not on my squad, moron,” he says with a tinge of softness reserved just for her; this is a weekly conversation and it plays out the same each time. “When’s the last time you stayed at your place anyways?”

She pauses from drinking her green tea. He can see her trying to remember. She’s been staying over every night recently and her eyes cloud over when she figures it out.

“Uh, almost a month…?”

He nods, a triumphant smirk spreading across his handsome face.

“Move in,” he repeats, swiftly moving in and kissing her nose, catching her off guard. His voice is lower than usual and the huskiness of it is too much to deal with so early in the morning. “We can use that money toward a down deposit for a bigger place if you want,” he adds a minute later, his mind drifting on its own accord to a baby with her eyes and smile staring up from a crib. He quickly shakes it off, focusing instead on her.

“You want to get a bigger place? This one is already spacious for two,” she teases, a small little smile that told him she knew exactly where his thoughts had gone on appearing on her pretty face. When did she learn to mimic his skills so perfectly against him? “I like that idea,” she admits in the same breath and his heart flips with anticipation.

“Keep looking at me like that and you’ll be in for a punishment,” he says with surprising steadiness. A quick glance at the time on his phone tells him they both need to get going soon for the office but part of him feels a surge of rebellious temptation to carry her back to bed.

Her eyebrows lift knowingly and she’s definitely smirking at him now. “I think we’re long past punishments, Hyogo. Any time you touch me is a reward these days.”

She pushes away from the table then, pressing a kiss on his forehead and darting out of reach when he tries to catch her. She lets him grab her in the hallway, laughing as he carries her to bed.

They somehow make it to the office, giving up on trying to stagger their timing for just one day.

[baeshijima]

thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

[kimmie2me]

Dynamite and His Player 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Twitch Gamer!Bakugou x AFAB!Reader

.....

Bakugou glances over at the camera, brows furrowed as he adjusts his headset. "Alright, you extras, get ready to shut the hell up," he growls, his voice laced with annoyance. "She’s real. I’ve got her right here, and she’s playing with me tonight."

You laugh off-screen, causing his chat to explode with reactions. Up until now, they didn't believe a word Bakugou said when he claimed he had a girlfriend. After all, this is the guy known for his explosive reactions when things go slightly wrong. He grumbles, trying to keep his cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks gives him away.

The game loads up, some horror-puzzle co-op that requires a ton of coordination. But while Bakugou’s all business—focused on solving puzzles and surviving—you have other ideas. You’re busy teasing him, wandering off to explore the map, or purposely messing up just to get a rise out of him.

"Can you just—dammit! Will you STOP wandering off?" Bakugou snaps as he watches your character take another detour. "We’re supposed to be working together!"

You grin at the screen, purposely moving your character in circles. "Aw, come on, Suki~ We’re just having fun, right?"

His jaw clenches, and he mutters something under his breath about "not having fun if you keep screwing around." But his viewers are eating it up, laughing at his frustration and flooding the chat with comments like "She's brave for messing with him, LMAO😭😭" and "Bros .4 seconds away from exploding his monitor for the 10 millionth time🪦"

Eventually, he just huffs, slouching in his chair and mumbling, "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll just wait here." His expression says he's beyond annoyed, but the hint of a smile peeking through his scowl gives away that maybe, just maybe, he's actually having a little fun too.

Grumpy Twitch Gamer Bakugou Headcanons

...

— Every time he messes up, he narrows his eyes at the camera with that “are you stupid?” glare. Chat spams "IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!” and "WHY R U LOOKING AT US LIKE WE DID THAT??" but he just huffs, “If you idiots weren’t DISTRACTING me…”

— Bakugou’s streaming style is brutally honest—constantly throwing out curses like it’s second nature. If he dies in-game, his go-to is, “How the hell am I supposed to win with this garbage game?!” and he never blames himself, ever.

— He has zero chill. Every so often, he’ll pound the desk so hard that the camera shakes, and one time he punched his mic so fiercely that it cut out, leaving chat in hysterics as he tries to fix it, muttering about “this piece of crap gear.”

— After every gaming session, he gives a review of the game he’s playing—most of which devolve into full-on rants about terrible controls, stupid enemies, and “whoever the hell designed these levels.” At this point, it's an entire essay by the time he's done.

— There are moments when he hits the mute button just to scream or cuss off-mic. Chat sees him red-faced and mouthing words, knowing he’s losing it, which makes them spam laugh emotes to annoy him further.

— Sometimes, when things get really bad, he just simply says "Okay." and goes quiet, leaning in close to the screen with this intense focus. Chat knows that if he’s silent, it’s only because he’s plotting to obliterate whatever got him killed.

— It’s become a running joke with his followers—every time he streams, they place bets on which piece of his equipment he’ll break. He’s replaced his keyboard three times already and had to upgrade his camera stand because he broke the last one during a particularly heated rage quit.

— When he finally beats a level, he acts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “See? Wasn’t even hard, you just have to not be a dumbass.” Cue the smug smirk.

— Occasionally, in his absolute rage, he’ll end the stream immediately after a loss. One second he’s there, screaming at the game, and then—stream offline.

— Despite all the rage, he’s actually insanely good at gaming. When he goes on a winning streak, chat blows up with admiration, but he barely acknowledges it. “’Course I won—who the hell do you think I am?”

— He has zero patience for backseat gamers. “Oh, you think you could do better? Why don’t you go start your own damn channel, then!” The mods know by now to instantly time out anyone who even hints at suggesting how he should play, and the ban count is astronomical by the end of each stream.

— Occasionally, Bakugou gets so into the game that he goes almost silent, and chat jokes it’s an ASMR session because all they can hear is his intense breathing and muttered curses. “Oi, STOP saying it’s ASMR, it’s not ASMR, you freaks!”

— Loading screens are his worst enemy. Every single time, he glares directly into the camera, arms crossed and seething, ranting about the “stupid long loading times” and how he could’ve “beat the damn game twice by now.” and how "a whole child could've been born by now." Chat watches in suspense because they know the rage is simmering, just waiting to explode.

— If he’s playing a console game, the controller does not have a safe future. He’s thrown it across the room, slammed it on his knee or desk, and even threatened it like, “You’re next, you little piece of shit, keep messing up on me.” He’s gone through so many controllers that his sponsor had to send him extras.

— When he loses in a PvP game, he has 1,001 excuses. “Lag. Dumb luck. Exploiter. The devs nerfed my character, obviously.” If chat calls him out, he just scoffs, “You think that was my fault? Keep dreaming.” And the mods instantly clear out any “L” spam from chat because he’s already dangerously close to slamming his keyboard.

— His channel has special emotes for when he loses his temper—explosion icons, angry Bakugou faces, and even one of his own “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME?!” face. Chat spams these whenever he starts heating up, which only fuels his fire.

— His viewers love to try and provoke him. Someone will innocently say, “Hey Dynamight, I think you missed something back there,” and he’ll instantly pause, glare at the screen, and say, “I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING, DUMBASS, WE'RE MOVING ON.” It’s like a game within the game for his followers. (He goes back to check right after.)

— “Easy mode?” he scoffs at the suggestion. “I’d rather throw myself into a fire than play on easy mode.” Even if he’s dying over and over, he’ll never, ever change the difficulty. Chat has tried for months to get him to switch, but he’s stubbornly loyal to “the only real mode” (aka Hard Mode, Nightmare mode or above).

— If he actually wins a match, he’s unbearable. He’ll sit there, grinning and basking in his victory, smirking at the camera with a smug, “And that, extras, is why I’m better than every single one of you.” Cue chat sarcastically clapping.

— He once had a bet with his mods that he’d try to do a stream without cursing or raging. He lasted five minutes before he exploded, screaming, “THIS GAME IS FUCKING RIGGED!” after an unexpected jump-scare. The mods were dying, and he banned half of them out of spite (they were unbanned five minutes later, but still).

— Every time he’s about to start a new game, he’s got this exaggerated, dramatic intro: “ALRIGHT, EXTRAS, prepare yourselves ‘cause we’re about to dominate the shit outta this game. And if I see anyone backseat gaming, you’re banned. Don’t even THINK about telling me what to do.”

— Every now and then, when he dies for the tenth time in a row, he just deadpans to the camera, “I swear to God, I’m deleting my channel after this.” Chat knows he’s bluffing, but they still spam crying emojis like “NOOO PLEASE DON’T” just to mess with him.

— Every so often, when he’s focused on a tough level, he’ll mutter something like, “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad, chat. Don’t tell anyone I said that,” and the comments absolutely blow up with hearts and “WE LOVE YOU, DYNAMIGHT.” He immediately goes red and yells, “Didn’t mean it, idiots!” but it’s too late.

— Once, he rage-quit a game so hard that his entire setup fell silent. He’d punched the desk, and the screen went black. Chat watched in shock as the stream just… cut off. The clip went viral, with an entire 30-minute compilation titled “Every time Dynamight destroyed his setup” He came back the next day, reacted to it, and you already know he gave the video a thumbs down and left a long hate comment.

— His mods convinced him to play a “relaxing, casual game” that was secretly full of jump scares. The first time it happened, he almost flipped his entire desk. He immediately banned half of his mods and told the rest they were “on thin ice.” Chat still laughs about it every time he plays a “cute” game.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dungeon Meshi: The RPG

[stealingyourbones]

Out of all of the people The Ghost King Phantom expected to relate to, it definitely wasn’t the scrawny red headed photographer of the Daily Planet. Jimmy Olsen has gotten so many temporary superpowers over his time being Superman’s friend. Hell, he once gained a 4th dimensional being’s reality warping abilities when he was given said dimensional being’s powers during a fight. Sure there’s a dozen or so heroes with the same amount of powers he has, but none as suddenly granted to them as a all powerful god that can relate to a teenager.

[ultravioletbrit]

“fake” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 469 words

“xmas cards” - 25 Days of Jegumas - Day 19 - @noblehouseofgay

Jamie <3: do you know how gorgeous you are? Regulus: What do you want? Jamie <3: just to tell you how stunning you are! Jamie <3: and how much i love you Regulus: James. Jamie <3: fine. marlene is bringing her good camera tonight because some people asked her to take pictures for their xmas cards Jamie <3: so i was thinking… Regulus: No. Jamie <3: i knew you would love the idea! Jamie <3: just wanted to make sure you had time to make your already perfect curls more perfect Jamie <3: love you! Regulus: No. Regulus: James. No. Regulus: Answer your phone, James. Regulus: JAMES!

-----------

Regulus scowls at himself in the mirror. “I’m not doing it.” He tells himself as he finishes perfecting his curls. He takes that one curl in the front that never stays where it’s supposed to, “We’re not doing it.” He says to the curl before tucking it behind his ear. He gives himself one last look then leaves the bathroom with a heavy sigh to go find James.

“You look incredible, love.” James tells him the moment he steps in the living room. He walks over and wraps Regulus in a hug and Regulus’ arms instinctively wrap around James’ neck. When they pull back slightly, James smiles and tucks that stubborn curl back behind Regulus’ ear. Regulus rolls his eyes because that thing will never stay in place.

“James, I love you, but I’m not doing this.” Regulus tells him. James opens his mouth but Regulus cuts him off. “I look ridiculous in pictures like this. I always look stiff, and my smile looks fake and they never turn out good. Let’s just send the cards with the snowmen on them. You liked those!” Regulus tries to reason.

James’ bottom lip turns into an exaggerated pout and Regulus’ eyes are pleading for him to understand. They hold eye contact for several moments having a silence conversation before James eventually sighs.

“Okay.” James pouts. “Marls, Reg and I aren’t going to do pictures.” James tells Marlene, who Regulus didn’t even realize was in the room.

“Oh, I already got yours.” She tells them.

“What?” Regulus and James say at the same time.

“Here.” Marlene holds her camera out for them to look at the pictures. “This one’s probably my favorite.” She shows them a picture of James tucking that damn curl behind Regulus’ ear. James has a sweet smile and even though Regulus is rolling his eyes, he still looks fond as he leans towards James. It’s sort of perfectly… them.  

Regulus and James share a look then glance back at the picture. James’ eyes are practically twinkling with excitement when he turns to look pleadingly at Regulus. Regulus wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’ to those eyes even if he tried. And he has to admit, it’s a pretty good picture that he wouldn’t mind seeing on a Christmas card.

“Okay.” He smiles and rolls his eyes and quickly finds himself wrapped in James’ arms again.

[megwritesriddles]

Tom Riddle as your secret admirer at Christmas ༊*·˚

Word count: 630

Masterlist

Authors note: Different style of writing for me, half bullet points, half prose. Not sure what to call it, a drabble? no it's too long. Headcanons? no, there's a storyline. This was originally going to be a series of scenarios with Riddle at various relationship stages, but of course the next one I wrote turned into a beast (friends with benefits), so here's this while I finish the other. Whatever this is, I hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You know of Riddle but you don’t really know that he knows of you

But boy, he definitely does know of you, way more than he should

He admires your intelligence, and kindness and looks from afar

He doesn’t want to complicate things for both of you by associating with you in public initially

AND he hates the idea of actually being vulnerable when not hiding behind the blanket of anonymity 

He sticks to occasional anonymous gifts to satiate his inconvenient desires for connection with you

My angel,

Flowers that while exquisite, may never even hope to compete with your beauty. A mere shallow token from the deep well of feelings I harbour.

Yours,

T

Attached is a bouquet of your favourite flowers, enchanted never to wilt

Enough people’s names start with T that he’s happy to sign the card this way, unconsciously hoping you might figure him out

When you first receive them, you’re sure they mustn’t be for you, asking around all your dormmates to see if they might be for them

Nobody claims them, and they are your absolute favourite flower

You display them in a vase on your bedside despite finding the whole thing odd

A few more little gifts appear for you throughout the year, although you have doubts they could really be for you, they are all personalised to you

You spend many nights with friends pondering over who ‘T’ may be

Riddle knows how much Christmas seems to mean to most romantic couples, so he figures he must go all out for you

My angel,

The days are long and gloomy but ever brightened by your presence. Thoughts of you keep out the harsh cold at night, giving me my very first taste of what many call ‘the Christmas spirit’. I wish for us to spend time together like other couples do, cuddled together by the fire. Perhaps one day. I have never hoped for such things before, but you have changed everything. You are now and forever my angel. I worship you from afar.

Yours,

T

With this note comes a large box, full of various gifts

Jewellery, perfumes, chocolates, luxurious quills and ink, an intricate leatherbound diary, and indulgent bathing products, all perfectly tailored to your preferences

You’re unsure what to make of all this, half-flattered, half-creeped out

Riddle had pulled a lot of strings to get you so many expensive products, so is absolutely thrilled when that day at dinner, he spots you wearing the angel wing necklace he gave you

You don’t realise that both your initials are engraved on the back

When Tom Riddle, polite and charming Head Boy, compliments your necklace as you sit alone, you pay it no mind

Until he innocuously asks if there are any engravings, and you look down to see the letters T.M.R. staring back at you beside your own initials

He’s gone by the time you look back up, though a note sits on the table before you in familiar handwriting, clearly prepared ahead of time

My angel,

Seek me out tonight if you wish, I will not push. I will be in the back of the library awaiting you with great anticipation. I promise that with me you will live a very happy life and want for nothing. I am not as frightening as I may seem, I am merely afraid, and I will tell you all about it tonight if you come find me. Then perhaps I may hold you by the fire as I dream of if you’ll allow it. To me, you are precious, so I am willing to go slow. If I have made you uncomfortable, I will stop correspondence with you after tonight, but my heart will never leave you.

Yours,

Tom Riddle

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo Merry Christmas xoxoxo

[wolvesandshine]

“For the love of god, we need to set them up together I can’t handle their pining.”

Remus sighed and dutifully nodded along to Sirius’s plans to get his best friends and little brother dating.

“You know you could always just tell them you approve of their relationship. They might just not be getting together because they’re worried about upsetting you.”

Sirius snorts loudly. “What’s upsetting me is watching them eyefuck each other in front of everyone. At least if they’re together I won’t need to see that.” Sirius visibly shudders at that as he adds. “I doubt either of them are even aware of their feelings to each other anyways. James would have definitely asked him out by now if he did.”

~

“You know sneaking around would be easier if we just told Sirius about us.”

“You just want to torment Sirius.”

Regulus laughs brightly and even now, after a month of dating, James feels a course of satisfaction run through him at the sound.

“Course I do. And I know for a fact that he bet that you would ask me out first.”

James groaned loudly after that. “I was going to! You just beat me to it.”

Regulus snorts loudly. “In what universe is stalking after me using a map considered trying to ask someone out on a date?”

“It’s better than just kissing me after beating my arse in quidditch!”

“Remind me again whose plan actually led us to start dating?”

James shook his head incredulously. “I just needed more time!”

Regulus smirks. “What? And miss all the time we could have spent together instead?”

James laughed softly before leaning in to kiss Regulus, enjoying the blush on the other boys cheeks.

After all he only had 30 more minutes before Sirius got suspicious.

[itsrheasgirl]

𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ✩

𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝖱𝗁𝖾𝖺 𝖱𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌, 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌’ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌. 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖨𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖥𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖮𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝖨𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗆, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗉.

𝖱𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌

𝖢𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖦𝖾𝗍 𝖢𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖦𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖨𝗌 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝖾

𝖧𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗒 (𝖭)𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖥𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 1: 𝖥𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 2: 𝖠𝗇 𝖴𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖦𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 3: 𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖢𝖺𝗇 𝖧𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌

𝖮𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

𝖳𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗋

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 1

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 2

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 3

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 4

𝖶𝗂��𝗅 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖬𝖾 𝖳𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 1

𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌

𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 (𝖵𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾!𝖱𝗁𝖾𝖺)

𝖥𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖭𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖡𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌 (𝖵𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾!𝖱𝗁𝖾𝖺)

𝖬𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖬𝖾 𝖲𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 (𝖦𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾!𝖱𝗁𝖾𝖺)

[jungshookz]

smitten: y/n (reluctantly) agrees to go to jimin's big halloween bash and she forgot how much she actually hated parties

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook and smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boohoo angsty wattpady fic of your dreams!! the pining and yearning is off the charts!! jimin’s still an asshole but what’s new!! 

➺ wordcount; 9.2k

➺ summary; putting on a smile while watching ji-eun cuddle up to jungkook is already hard enough, but when y/n is (reluctantly) invited to jimin’s massive halloween party, she can’t help but even more out of place. 

➺ what to expect; “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; favourite crime [olivia rodrigo]

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]; part two [the incriminating note]; part three [the date]

»»————- 👻 ————-««

you’re pretty sure you’re in hell. 

you’re not sure what you did in your past life to have deserved this, but past-life y/n must’ve killed a baby or set an entire village on fire or something to that degree because you’re pretty sure that in this current timeline, you’re in hell 

you stay quiet as you munch on your (slightly soggy, unfortunately) sandwich, scrolling through your phone (but not really paying attention to your instagram feed because apparently you’re a glutton for punishment and you keep wanting to look up and just stare at jungkook and ji-eun in all their coupley glory) while your foot taps anxiously against the ground 

you know that if you say you can sit somewhere else to give the two of them some privacy that jungkook will insist that you stay, but you feel like the longer you sit here the faster the people around you will see that you’re just a big ol’ monster truck sized third wheel

you could lie and say that you have to go to the library to get some work done, but jungkook’s really good at knowing when you’re lying to him (apparently you have VERY obvious tells which you were very unaware of) so that’s not going to be a feasible plan either 

it’s just that being here is incredibly uncomfortable but it seems like the only option you have is to stay and sit through it — which, again, reiterates your point of you being pretty sure you’re being punished for something you did in your past life

“my handsome boy…” ji-eun giggles lightly, reaching over to adjust the collar of jungkook’s jacket before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, “i like this jacket a lot.” 

“yeah?” he gives his girlfriend a boyish grin, looking down at his jacket before looking back up at her, “lucky for you, you can borrow it anytime you’d like-“ you glance up at them, the little voice in your brain stopping you from interrupting them to say that that is a nice jacket because you chose it for jungkook — and you feel like that comment could potentially lump you into the pick-me-girl-best-friend category which you’d very much like to avoid 

“borrow? no, i’m stealing it-“ 

“no way! i got this thrifted for, like, fifteen bucks, i’m not letting you steal it-“

“alright, then you better sleep with one eye open the next time i stay over at yours because this is a nice jacket-“ 

you can’t help but look over at the empty seat next to you on the bench as you let out a quiet sigh… you have never felt so horribly single in your entire life. 

and it doesn’t help that it’s cuffing szn this cuffing szn that all over your social media — your tiktok feed has not been very friendly to you as of late, the app flooded with countless videos of cute couples bundling up for the colder seasons

if anything you need to be cuffed to the wall before you go crazy and rip your eyelashes out from frustration 

unsurprisingly, jungkook and ji-eun are a couple now, but really, are you surprised? jungkook is great, ji-eun is great, they went on a great first date (thanks to you, let’s be honest) and all the dates after that went well too because it lead to jungkook asking ji-eun if she wanted to be exclusive with him 

you knew that things were going well when jungkook started hanging out with you less and less

and then when they officially got together, you didn’t think it could possibly get any worse but your already puny twice a week hangouts turned into two hours a week before he’d zip off to spend time with ji-eun

in fact, within the last two weeks, he’s only hung out with you once… which is fine, because you understand the honeymoon stage and you understand how giddy people can be when they get into a brand new relationship and just want to spend all their time with this new person 

you know for sure that if you were the one who’d gotten into a new relationship, you’d definitely want to spend as much time with your person because why wouldn’t you want to do that? you really can’t blame the guy 

you have other friends you can hang out with, but it’s just not as fun because even when you’re having a good time with them, your mind keeps wandering back to what jungkook is doing with ji-eun 

and of course, when jungkook mentioned to you over a quick lunch one afternoon that he was planning on asking ji-eun to make things official, it’s not like you could tell him that it was a horrible idea and that he shouldn’t be dating ji-eun without ruffling feathers and raising brows of suspicion 

the only person it would be a horrible idea for would be you, and you’re not enough of a dickhead to ruin a potentially good thing because of your own desires  

and obviously, she said yes because why wouldn’t she say yes?

…

you know, there really isn’t a way for you to talk about this situation without sounding like the most bitter person on the planet, so perhaps you should move on now  

“okay, i’m putting you two on drinks duty for the party!” jimin seems to appear out of thin air and you turn your head to look at him standing at the front of the table with an armful of flyers and the usual bossy, snarky persona that literally drains you every time you have an interaction with him, “unless you’re too busy making out to handle that.” 

“no, we can handle it-“ ji-eun rolls her eyes playfully, pulling away from jungkook before reaching over and plucking the list from jimin’s slim fingers, “jesus, jimin. twelve bottles of vodka??” 

“i’ll give you my credit card, just put all the charges on it-“ jimin shrugs, sliding in next to you before nudging you over a little, “this is going to be my greatest party yet. i’m charging $10 an admission and i’m renting out this huge house- i don’t think you can even comprehend how massive this party is going to be. it’s gonna be so much better than last year’s one.” 

“i remember hearing about your party last year!” you chime in, offering jimin a polite smile even though he’s not looking at you, “it sounded like it was super fun.” 

“so, you guys are on drinks, so that’s covered-“ jimin makes a tick on his clipboard before nodding to himself, “decor is covered, catering is covered, rent for the night is covered…” 

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, slumping in your seat a little and resisting the urge to roll your eyes

you still have no clue what jimin’s problem is with you, but at this point you’ve gotten used to the way he acts like you literally do not exist at all 

you mentioned it to jungkook one time, wondering if maybe you were just looking too far into it and that there was nothing to take personally to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod and a “no, i also get the vibe that he doesn’t like you and i have no idea why… just let him be an ass if he wants to be one, don’t stoop to his level. life is too short to waste energy on weird people.” 

so if jimin wants to continue being an ass to you, you’re just gonna let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back 

“funny enough, y/n and i were gonna go to your party last year, but the kids in y/n’s building were trick or treating so we decided to stay home and watch horror movies and hand out candy instead-“ jungkook clears his throat, eyes flickering over to you for a brief second, “we also, like, decorated the doorway like it was a haunted apartment to freak the kids out. and y/n had this great idea to have a cauldron filled with warm spaghetti and she told the kids it was brain stew-“ 

“oh my god, i forgot about that-“ you snort, “i feel like we should’ve done, like, warm pudding instead or something, but the spaghetti kinda had the same effect and my kitchen smelled like an italian restaurant for two weeks after that-“ 

“let’s talk costumes!” jimin interrupts you, smacking his palm down on the table before pointing his pen at ji-eun and jungkook, “please don’t show up in anything tacky.” 

“we were thinking barbie and ken!” ji-eun grins, “not tacky, totally trendy — i know we probably won’t be the only barbie and kens in the room, but it’s just so trendy and i loved her pink sequinned cowboy outfit- or if that’s not available, i think the 80s skater costumes were a vibe-“ 

“i can’t whait to talk about horshes and capitahlism wiv a bunch of ovher kensj.” jungkook laughs lightly with a mouthful of sandwich, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it at you

you scowl playfully when it bounces off your forehead and lands on the ground 

“you could go as allen, y/n. that’d be pretty funny.” jungkook swallows his bite, and you want to tell him that he doesn’t have to include you in every part of the conversation because you can practically see the pity for you radiating off of him in waves 

you know for a fact he feels bad that he’s not been able to hang out with you as much lately because every time you do hang out he always brings you a drink or a snack with sympathetic little puppy dog eyes

and every time you have lunch with him and ji-eun he’s always making an effort to include you in the conversation — especially when jimin is around because again, it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t like you 

you and jungkook spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out why he didn’t like you so much, but you couldn’t come up with any conclusive results, so now whenever jimin is around, jungkook makes even more effort to include you in the conversation 

“allen was my favourite character, so that’s not even a bad idea.” you chirp, pulling out one of the flyers from jimin’s neat pile before looking at it for the details

“oh, right. yeah, you can come too, i guess.” jimin clears his throat quietly, taking the flyer back from you with a chuckle, “…you don’t seem like you’d have anything crazy going on on a friday night.”  

“i can come too? i thought that everyone was invited to this thing?” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to the little note on the flyer, “all it says is general admission.”

“…right.” jimin smiles sweetly at you, “and i suppose i’ll waive the fee for you since you’re… friends with jungkook.” 

“how sweet of you.” you respond curtly, offering a smile just as sweet before letting it drop as soon as he looks away

you are absolutely dreading having to go to this party. 

»»————- 👻 ————-««

“are you sure you don’t want us to come and pick you up? ji-eun has space in her car, you’d just have to sit in the back with all the drinks n stuff-“ 

“i’m good, jungkook, really-“ you mutter, pausing for a second to smudge out your lipstick before leaning back in your chair and turning side to side to look at your finished look 

not that this is jungkook’s fault, but the fact that the two of you really haven’t been hanging out as often gave you a lot of time to think about what you wanted to dress up as for jimin’s halloween costume, and after a solo spooky movie binge the other weekend, you decided that you wanted to dress up as emily from the corpse bride

sure, it’s been done so many times — but you love the movie and you love emily and you had so much time to get everything you needed for this costume so why not dress up as her?? 

you reach up to adjust your blue wig, tugging at it slightly to make sure it’s nice and secure 

“i’m just gonna uber there! plus, my place is kind of out of the way if you guys are already headed to jimin’s.” you clear your throat, “thank you for the offer though. make sure to let ji-eun know i really appreciate the gesture.” 

“okay, i will…” jungkook murmurs, and you can tell by the tone in his voice that he wants to say something but he’s holding himself back, “i guess i’ll see you at the party, then? we’ll probably be there in about forty minutes.” 

“yes, i’ll see you guys at the party.” you nod, wiping the leftover blue lipstick on your fingers on a tissue before reaching over to get ready to press the hangup button 

“y/n?” jungkook’s voice crackling out from your phone speaker makes you pause, and you pull your hand back 

“yea?” 

“we’re- we’re good, right?” the question is somewhat of a surprise to you due to its weirdly serious, non-jungkook nature, your eyes flickering down to look at the contact photo you have set for your friend

he grins like a maniac at the camera, eyes wide and lit up with excitement at the cheesy corn dog he’s holding in front of him 

the corner of your mouth twitches in a fond smile at the memory of that day — jungkook was convinced he’d be able to eat three corn dogs in one sitting and the day ended with him basically destroying your toilet and then refusing to let you use it until the smell cleared out 

“what do you mean?” you clear your throat quietly, lips parting to say something else before you press them together and decide against it

“i mean- i know we haven’t been hanging out a lot lately so i just-“ jungkook coughs, “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.” 

“i-“ you pause again, gaze averting to the side as you think about his comment 

if you’re being completely honest, you don’t think everything is good between the two of you — the first reason why being the fact that you are still completely and utterly head over heels in love with him, and the second reason being that he’s in a relationship with someone else and you’re really not sure how much more of this you can take before you go insane 

but this isn’t exactly something you can hash out over a crackly phone call, and you’re really not in the mood to potentially destroy two relationships at once 

you really don’t know what you’re going to do about this emotional mess, but what you do know is that you’re going to have to take it day by day until you’re eventually ready to face it head on — and tonight, your only job is to smile, enjoy being young, and have lots of fun at what you’re sure is going to be an amazing party despite it being hosted by someone who hates your guts for no reason 

“we’re- we’re good, kook.” you manage to push out, despite the words practically fighting their way out of your mouth, “you’re my best friend, too.” 

“okay. so i’ll see you soon?” 

“yea.” you look at yourself in the vanity mirror, wondering if the sadness in your eyes will make your costume that much more believable, “i’ll see you soon.” 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

the six pack of lime seltzer water (you got the fancy kinds in glass bottles) clinks in their cardboard carrier as you walk on the sidewalk, blue heels clicking against the pavement as you follow the path leading up towards the house that-

“holy shit.” your jaw drops at the sheer size of this literal mansion — what looks to be an endless number of burgundy bricks separated by neat, thin layers of cement that are stacked on top of each other, two large, white columns that cast identical shadows on the curved sidewalk leading up to the large, black front door, and not to mention, the insane halloween decorations: huge spider webs stretched over the door and windows, fairy lights wrapped around the columns, a stack of pumpkins sitting by the front steps kardashian-style 

you don’t like jimin but you have to hand it to him, he sure can throw a party 

“s’cuse us, sorry!” a trio of girls dressed up as sluttier versions of the powerpuff girls brush past you, bubbles turning around to shoot you a grin, “love your costume, by the way!”

“oh, thank you!” your face immediately breaks into a wide grin, “you guys look great, too-“ 

the random compliment lifts your mood up slightly — you know you’re more than capable of making friends anywhere you go, so if jungkook is too busy mingling with the other couples, you know you’ll be fine 

and hopefully jimin will be too busy playing host to give you any attitude tonight 

you lift your dress up as you make your way up the steps, the corners of your mouth lifting in an excited smile when you see taehyung standing by the door greeting people and collecting their $10 by… having them tuck the bills into the waistband of his boxers

“magic mike?” you laugh, taehyung’s right eye dropping in a wink before thrusts his hips towards you 

“you know it, baby-“ he coos, reaching over to pinch the fabric of your dress to pull you towards him, your cheeks flushing when you stumble into his chest, “be nice to me and i’ll give you a lil lap dance in one of the private rooms-“ 

“taehyung, i swear to god, do not let any of those bills fall into your boxers because i’m not touching anything that touched your penis-“ jimin pops up behind taehyung dressed in a veryaccurate joker costume, his usual blonde hair dyed completely green for the look 

“hi, welcome to the party, $10 an admiss-“ the sweet smile immediately drops from his face when he realises it’s you, jimin leaning back slightly, “wow, corpse bride!” jimin nods, looking you up and down, “seems fitting.” he mutters under his breath, watching as taehyung tapes the neon orange bracelet around your wrist 

“nice to see you too, jimin.” you raise an eyebrow, lifting the six pack up with your other hand, “i didn’t want to come empty-handed, so i brought some drinks!”

“you brought six drinks for a house party? six sparkly waters, too… interesting.” jimin scoffs lightly, plucking the carrier from you before offering you a saccharine sweet smile, “how thoughtful of you. drinks are in the kitchen - first two shots are free, and then it’s $15 a shot after that. cocktails are $5 each, mocktails are $3- you seem like a shirley temple girl anyway- and all of it can be paid through venmo. the bartender will answer any other questions you have. bathrooms are upstairs, and the results to the costume competition will be announced at the end of the night. there are fifteen winners, and the votes are made by everyone here, so you might have a shot at winning something here.” jimin steps aside, gesturing towards the party, “have fun!”

“thank you, jimin.” you smile politely, stepping into the house and immediately rolling your eyes as soon as you turn away from him

so you weren’t able to completely avoid his dickheadedness, but hopefully that’ll be your only interaction with him tonight considering he’s probably going to be busy playing businessman all night 

$15 a shot is kind of insane, though 

you keep your phone pressed flush to your chest as you manoeuvre your way through the packed floor, the neon lights flashing and disco ball glimmering from above making it damn near impossible to navigate this place without bumping into backs and stepping on toes  

the DJ pumps his arm up into the air as he continues spinning his fingers against the discs, the crowd going wild as the song builds up to the chorus 

you can already tell that most of the people here are drunk (you can smell it, too) and you know, if you can’t beat ‘em, why not join them? 

you can find jungkook later, and alcohol is definitely going to make this night a little easier to handle 

“hi!” you smack your hands down on the marble countertop when you finally make your way to the bar, the vampire bartender turning to glance at you over his shoulder before tossing a cloth over his shoulder, “i want- something. shots, a drink, anything-“ your voice is already straining from the way you’re basically screaming over the music but this seems to be the proper way to communicate at a party like this 

“wait, y/n?” your eyes light up when you realise that it’s none other than namjoon in charge of the drinks (and you wonder if your friendship with him will mean he gives you more drinks without charging you for it) and you let out a gasp as you lean over the counter to grasp onto his wrist

“namjoon!” you grin, “oh my god, thank god, finally someone i know at this damn party. why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here??”

“why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here?! i haven’t seen you at the library at all, otherwise i definitely would’ve talked to you about it- what can i get for you?” 

“top-shelf tequila, baby. i saw the list of brands that jimin bought - i want the most expensive one.” you raise an eyebrow, namjoon laughing to himself before nodding 

“alright, i gotcha- you need any chasers with that?” 

“you got cranberry juice?” 

“for you, i’ve got anything-“ namjoon smirks, holding a finger up to excuse himself  

it’s five seconds later that you’re presented with not one, not two, but three shots of tequila, namjoon winking at you as he slides the cranberry juice chasers over to you as well

“you better take these before jimin realises i’ve given you a freebie- i’m about to take a break here, someone else is gonna come in a sec to replace me- you wanna dance?” 

“um, of course i do!” you can’t help but squeal excitedly, “take one with me!” you push a shot glass towards him, namjoon shrugging before picking up the shot and downing it in less than two seconds

you take your second shot, eyes squinting as the burn of alcohol trickles down your throat 

you immediately shudder, reaching for the cranberry juice and tossing it down the hatch 

“oh, jesus-“ you hiss, shuddering against before sticking your tongue out in disgust, “god, that cranberry juice does not help whatsoever-!” you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before namjoon has his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, giggles bubbling out of your mouth as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor to join the rest of the drunken crowd 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

okay, so maybe this party didn’t turn out to be as bad as you thought it was going to be! 

“that- oh my god-!” you throw your head back in laughter when namjoon pulls out the worst dance moves you’ve ever seen, your eyes pinching shut as you clutch at your stomach 

you’re not sure how much time has passed (to be fair, it’s gonna be hard to tell how much time has passed when you’re at a massive house party with flashing lights and nothing but the sound of speakers booming to guide you) but you know you’ve been having a lot more fun with namjoon than you’ve had with jungkook these last few weeks) ((in fact you’re having so much fun that you almost forgot you were supposed to be heartbroken that the love of your life is with someone else, but also, that could probably be the alcohol taking over)) 

you know at some point you’re going to have to go over and say hi to jungkook eventually because you don’t want him to think that you’re purposely ignoring him or something — after all, it’s not his fault that he likes ji-eun and it’s not something you can pin on him and grill him for — but for now, you’re going to dance a little more, sing a little more, and- 

“i gotta pee!” you gasp all of a sudden, realising that you haven’t peed once since coming here and there’s a lot of tequila sloshing around in your system

“what?” namjoon furrows his brows, reaching up to tap against his ear, “too loud, can’t hear you!” 

“i gotta go pee!” you repeat yourself, pointing towards the staircase leading upstairs, “’m gonna go pee n then ‘m gonna come right back-“ 

“oh, pee?” namjoon nods, finally catching your words before stepping aside a little, “okay, i’ll be right here!” 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

the silence of the bathroom is more than welcome as soon as you step in and flick the lights on, not at all surprised to see a pair of elegant looking wall sconces lighting up the space 

you squint your eyes as you lean into the mirror, double checking that your makeup is still somewhat intact and you don’t look insane 

“hm. not bad.” you mutter to yourself, turning your head from side to side before nodding, reaching down to pull the endless amounts of tulle up so you can hopefully not piss all over yourself in your tipsy state 

…

…

…

you set the lid down as the toilet flushes, turning the tap on and rinsing your hands underneath the cool water 

“oh, damn-“ you wince when you realise you’re washing some of the blue body paint away and you quickly turn the tap off, shaking the water off your hands before reaching for a neatly folded cotton towelette of course, because regular paper towels aren’t fancy enough for a park jimin party 

you give yourself one last glance in the mirror (you could use a little more lipstick but it’s dark down there so no one’s going to be able to tell anyway) before flicking the lights off 

“oops! i’m sorry-“ you apologise instinctively when you open the door and stumble right into someone, taking a few steps back before looking up to see that it’s jimin, “oh, hey…” you clear your throat quietly, standing up a little straighter before offering him a meek smile 

you always feel like you’re in trouble when you’re around jimin and it’s the worst feeling in the world 

like he’s the principal and you just got caught cheating on a test and he’s about to call home to tell your parents as punishment 

or he’s an officer and he’s about to test you with the breathalyser and you know you’re going to fail because you definitely can’t walk in a straight line right now 

“why am i not surprised that you clearly don’t know how to handle alcohol?” jimin snorts, holding his hands out in case you fall over, “you better not throw up all over me, this suit is custom made-“

“i wasn’t throwing up in the bathroom, i just went in there to pee-“ you roll your eyes, placing both hands on your hips before shaking your head, “you are ridiculous, you know that? even if i was throwing up in your stupid fancy toilets, the normal thing to do would be to ask if me i was okay and if i needed some water! you- you are just so self-centred and just-“

“yeah, uh-huh-“ jimin reaches up to pat the side of your face with a smile, “by the way, if you were looking for jungkook, he’s at the VIP booth with ji-eun and the rest of us.”

“oh, perfect!” you nod, thankful for the information, “i’ll pop over and say hi in a bit, i think it’d be good to sit down too because my heels are kind of killing me and i wouldn’t be surprised if i had, like, a million blisters right now-“ 

“woah, i never said you were allowed to be in the booth with us.” jimin scoffs, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving, “silly girl.” 

your lips part slightly as you look at him, and for a moment the only thing that can be heard is the faint boom and bass of the music playing from downstairs 

“are you… serious?” you ask, unsure if jimin’s joking with you or not

the bored expression on his face tells you that he is indeed, super serious 

all of this just feels so incredibly cliquey and immature and stupid and you know that you’re supposed to be the bigger person because jimin clearly won’t be and you like to think that you’re ten times more emotionally mature than him but he’s making it harder and harder for you to not want to shred up his nice suit with a pair of scissors and cuss him out in front of everyone 

“i’m dead serious. i’m just telling you this so that you don’t embarrass yourself when your drunk ass stumbles over and tries to join us.” jimin says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world, “enjoy the rest of the party, sweetheart.” he brushes past you to head into the washroom and-

“you’re a fucking dickhead, you know that?” you snap, jimin stopping in his tracks before turning his head slightly so you can just make out the side of his face, “i think i’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since i met you, and to be honest, i can’t even think of one reason why you are constantly so fucking rude and overall just unpleasant to me. i don’t say anything when you purposely cut me out of the conversation, i don’t nag when you ignore my questions and comments but respond to everyone else’s, and most importantly, i’ve never called you out for being a jackass when i think i’ve had every chance and opportunity to. if you have a problem with me, then just say so so that we can hash this stupid weird rivalry out and just get along. your best friend and my best friend are in a relationship, and i think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we at least try to get along-“

“oh, shut the fuck up, y/n.” jimin scoffs, turning around to face you, “you know, you always act like you’re better than everyone else, that’s why i don’t like you.”

you feel your shoulders stiffen at the comment before you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, “well, i’m sorry if i’ve given you that impression but that’s not my intention, i don’t think i’m better than you, i don’t think i’m better than everyone else, and i can’t control how you feel about me but-“ 

“oh my god, even when you’re confronting me about being a dickhead to you you’re still being a sensible goddamn person, it’s like you’re purposely trying to piss me off-“ 

“okay, well, i’m not going to apologise to you for literally being myself because there’s nothing i can do about it. this is a you problem, not a me problem, so if you insist on being such an unreasonable drama queen for however long we’re going to have to spend time together, then i think the solution here is just for you to ignore me — which, you’re already doing a stellar job of, congratulations — and in return, i’ll happily ignore you.”

“i hate when people aren’t themselves. i pick up on that shit right away, and i gotta tell you, y/n, you might be the fakest person of them all.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” 

“i think we both know you’re hiding something from all of us. i think you’re hiding something from yourself, too. i think you’re lying to yourself.” 

there’s a pregnant pause in the conversation and for a second you want to ask him what exactly he’s implying here, but… 

“alright, jimin, well-“ you turn around to head towards the stairs, “you’re fuckin’ being weird, and i’m just trying to have a good time, so i’m just gonna go back down-“ 

“yeah, have a wonderful rest of your evening, corpse bride-“ 

you resist the very strong urge to whip around and literally just strangle the man, but you remind yourself that before you had this little interaction you were actually having a very good time 

“y/n!” jungkook stands at the bottom of the staircase as you make your way down, being careful not to trip over your heels, “hi!” 

“jungkook! oh, there you are- i was wondering where you were-“ you loop an arm with his as you drag him through the hoards of people and towards the bar (you really need a drink and it looks like namjoon is back on the clock)

“there you are!” he laughs lightly, reaching over to tap your hand gently, “i’ve been texting you all night trying to figure out where you were but- is your phone on do not disturb or something?“

“no, it’s not! i’m sorry, i should’ve checked my phone-“ you smile sheepishly, “i’ve been dancing with namjoon this whole time but- where are you guys sitting?”

“i don’t know, some area that jimin squared off for us and a few others- ji-eun’s been asking about you, she wanted to say hi-“ 

“oh! oh my god, yeah, i should probably go say hi to ji-eun-“ you gesture for namjoon to get you some water and he nods, grabbing a cup and filling it up for you, :your ken costume turned out great, by the way-“ you laugh, patting jungkook’s bare chest, “it’s, uh- it’s really giving horses and the patriarchy.”

“thank you, thank you- and your costume turned out so cool too, we should watch corpse bride again when we eventually have another movie night-“ 

“sure! sure, for sure.” you clear your throat quietly, a moment of awkward silence settling in between the two of you 

your friendship feels so… different now 

like there’s this unspoken air of something in between you and jungkook like an invisible brick wall 

and maybe it’s the liquid courage currently sloshing around in your body and the leftover exhilaration from finally calling jimin out on his bullshit, but now you have the urge to talk to jungkook about the weird tension 

“hey, kook, listen-“ you reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you but i’ve definitely been putting off for a while…” 

all of a sudden, a drum roll begins to boom from the speakers, the spotlights darting around the crowd before shining towards the main stage at the front of the room, whoops and cheers bouncing off the walls as jimin waltzes his way towards the microphone, a cocky smirk on his face as he raises his hand to get people to quiet down 

“oh, shit, the costume competition results!!” jungkook nudges your side as the two of you turn to face the front, “we can talk about it later, i wanna see who won what- i voted myself for best ken costume, so-“ 

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and you nod, thankful for the interruption 

maybe it’s a good thing you were interrupted 

telling him in the middle of a party probably wasn’t the best idea, anyway

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

once again, you really have to hand in to jimin 

the man truly knows how to throw a party, because it seems like just about everyone is having the time of their lives — and this costume competition just made things so much more fun

there are definitely a lot of good costumes here tonight and jimin decided to change it up with twenty-five different categories to go through so he’s kind of speed running through the names 

most scary costume, most realistic costume, most well-made costume: he’s got a lot of categories to get through 

you keep a content smile on your face as the costume contest continues to go on, enjoying jimin’s commentary to the point that you nearly forget that the two of you hate each other and he totally just disrespected you like he’s never disrespected you before twenty minutes ago 

“i wonder how that guy made it look like his head was floating… that shit was so cool.” jungkook claps his hands along with the crowd and you nod enthusiastically

“i know, right?! i’m sure he probably took it off tiktok or something - we can definitely look it up after the party and maybe we can try to recreate-“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that you guys haven’t exactly been the closest as of late so it feels weird to be offering to do something together, “um-“ you clear your throat, offering a half-hearted shrug, “yeah, we can, like, look it up later or something. maybe you and ji-eun can figure it out and let me know.” 

“yeah! or- you know, you and me-“ jungkook licks over his chapped lips, “like- you know, like- old times or whatever-“

“yeah, yeah- maybe! maybe-“ 

“now, before i announce this special category, i have something to read because-“ jimin sucks in a breath through his teeth before cocking his head to the side, “well, let’s just say it’s some context for the best simp costume of the night.”

you can’t help but frown at the strange category — out of all the halloween costume competitions you’ve been to, “best simp” has certainly never been one that you’ve seen before 

“just wanna remind everyone that this is just a costume competition, everything is based off the costume you’re wearing.” jimin adds, taking a slip of paper out of his back pocket before unfolding it with nimble fingers, “so, uh- you know. don’t take anything seriously, you know? just gotta loosen up and have fun.” 

your brows dip slightly at the weird disclaimer 

…

something about this doesn’t feel right.  

“dear j, this is something that i’ve wanted to tell you for a while but have never had the courage to until now. throughout our entire friendship, you’ve been so kind and loyal and honest with me, and i think that you deserve the same, so this is me being honest with you.” jimin speaks into the microphone, reading the words off the slip of paper with a tone of amusement laced in his powder-soft voice, “to be honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, and i’ve tried so many times to push those feelings down but it’s clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon…” he recites, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he puts the piece of paper down, “any thoughts on who the winner could be? or should i keep going?” 

your eyelids flutter slightly at the weird change in mood of the lines and a strange feeling of familiarity of those words

“me at that one hot english professor.” a voice pipes out from the crowd and that gets a round of laughter 

you laugh along politely, but you can’t help but feel as though something is off 

something is off

something is very, very off

“i cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want to do is to make things weird, so… you don’t have to worry about my feelings, you know?” 

oh my god. 

you feel the blood immediately drain from your face when you finally realize why these lines are so familiar — it’s because they’re from the note you wrote for jungkook when you were going to tell him you liked him. 

your brain begins to work overtime to figure out how the hell jimin got his hands on that note and why the hell he’d think it’d be okay to read it aloud to this massive group of people and what the hell he’s even doing right now  

“what i’m trying to say is that i like you, j. i like you so much that i don’t know where to even put my feelings, and i’m sick of holding my feelings back and pretending that i’m fine with being just your friend.” 

you know that jimin’s never really been a fan of you, but even this seems like too much of a dickhead move even for him 

you pluck at the cuff of your sleeve anxiously, tracing your steps all the way back to the day you were going to tell jungkook about your feelings for him and the note that you’d accidentally given him that you were hoping was rotting away somewhere in a dump yard but clearly isn’t 

jungkook said he’d given ji-eun the note to spit her gum out into 

but what if she uncrumpled the paper and saw the note?

and what if jimin was there when she uncrumpled the note? 

and then they read it together and ji-eun mentioned that you were reciting this aloud in the bathroom and-

your heart starts to race in your chest and you feel the hairs prickle on your arms as anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach, and you know that no one’s looking at you but you feel like everyone’s looking at you 

you feel sick

you feel like you’re going to throw up and explode at the same time 

“how could you like someone for a year and not tell ‘em?” jungkook snorts, nudging you with his elbow, “who do you think the poor sucker is who said that?” 

“beats me.” you breathe out, feeling yourself shrink slightly when you notice jimin starting to scan the audience, clearly laser-focused on finding you, “i have to- um, i think i need some fresh air, it’s a little warm in here-“ 

“oh- okay-“ jungkook doesn’t get the chance to say much else before you’re turning around, pushing yourself through the crowd of people and trying your best to stay calm 

just breathe

in and out

in and out 

in and out in and out in and out oh my god HURRY UP MOVE MOVE MOVE-

you’re sure that no one will notice if you slink out through the back

and you can always text namjoon later and say that it was great spending time with him but you had a personal emergency and needed to leave the party earlier 

and if jimin decides to expose you, at least you’ll be gone and out of this house and nowhere near any of these people and you don’t have to look at their stupid sympathetic faces and you don’t have to deal with- 

“and the best simp of the night goes to our lovely corpse bride.” 

you freeze when the spotlight lands on you, your heart going a hundred miles a minute as it starts to beat harder and faster in your chest 

you only manage to turn your head weakly to glance over your right shoulder, catching jimin in your peripheral view before you’re slowly twisting around to face him, feet glued to the ground 

“why don’t you come up here and accept your sash, corpse bride?” jimin smirks, plucking the satin sash from (a shocked looking) taehyung’s arms before raising it up in the air slightly, “congratulations on winning, you get two free drinks from the bar. one for you and one for… well, probably also you. get on up here and claim your coupons!” 

you feel your face burning bright red in humiliation and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from jimin, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides

this is a nightmare

this is actually a nightmare 

this is traumatising in so many ways 

the music seems to quiet down, a loud silence washing over the room as people look at you with expressions of confusion on their faces, everyone clearly a little thrown off at the weird category 

eyes, there are just a million pairs of eyes on you and you feel like you can’t move or breathe or even do anything but stand still in shock

it’s only then that you notice the calculating look on jungkook’s face, his eyelids fluttering slightly before his eyes widen and his head snaps up and over to look at you

his lips part slightly as his eyes dart over the features of your face and you feel your entire body flushing in humiliation and shame, forcing your eyes away from your friend and back to the dickhead on the stage 

“you are really something else, park jimin.” you manage to mutter out before turning on your heel and pushing your way through the crowd, people stepping aside to let you out 

“aw, where are you going? you had a great costume, that’s all we were trying to say!” jimin laughs, actually laughs into the microphone before shrugging, tossing the sash over his shoulder before moving on, “alright, well, more drinks for me, i guess. the next category is best couple’s costume-“ 

“y/n- y/n, wait!” jungkook’s voice is the one thing you hear among the music and bustle of the crowd but he’s the last person you want to talk to right now so you pick up your pace upon spotting the front door 

tears blur your vision as you finally burst out into the open air, your chin trembling as you try your best to keep your composure and not completely burst into tears

“oh my god, oh my fucking god-“ you whimper, sucking in large breaths of air 

run, run, run, the only instinct you have is to run, and you reach down to yank both heels off before taking off into a sprint, the grass slightly damp beneath your bare feet 

it feels very cliché to be running out of a mansion in a big poofy dress, but you can’t even take the moment to laugh at yourself because the only thing you can focus on is the fact that everything has changed completely and you’re forced to face reality a lot sooner than you would’ve liked 

“y/n, come on!” you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jungkook hot on your trail, “you can’t just run away from a discussion you don’t want to have, we need to talk because we both know that things have been off since i started dating ji-eun and now-“ 

“okay, well, now you know, then!” your chest heaves as you come to a stop to catch your breath (you have no idea why you thought running would be a good idea, you get winded after thirty seconds on the treadmill), spinning around to face your friend who skids to a stop, tripping over his feet a little before standing up straight, “the secret’s out, jungkook. we finally solved the puzzle. i love you. i’ve loved you for so long that i don’t even remember when i started feeling this way, but all i know is i love you. you’re the first person i think of when i wake up and you’re the last person i think about before i fall asleep. i would literally drop everything i was doing if you needed me, and you’re the only person i want to spend my free time with.” all the words that you’ve been holding in for the last who knows how long finally spill out, your mouth running uncontrollably, “i love you so much that i helped you set up your date with ji-eun, i love you so much that i’m willing to run in the rain just to get you a teddy bear and a bouquet that’s not even going to me, jungkook, i-“ you blubber, reaching up to wipe at your eyes, “i don’t know what to do. there is no one else in the world i’d rather be with than you, jungkook, and i- to be honest, maybe it’s a good thing that jimin did what he did because you do deserve to know the truth and you do deserve to know how i really feel about you. if this didn’t happen i think i’d just keep it to myself for the rest of my life, but you deserve to know this. i love you, jungkook. i love you and i don’t know if i can keep being friends with you if you’re dating someone else because it’s actually killing me on the inside-“ 

“i love you, y/n,” jungkook breathes out, and you feel yourself letting out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding

relief 

for the first time in a long time, you feel relieved, like a massive weight’s just been lifted off your shoulders 

you feel your heart soar in your chest, and suddenly it’s like all the humiliation and shame has completely washed away, and suddenly you have the feeling to run back into the house to thank jimin for doing this because you know you wouldn’t have said anything if it weren’t for this slightly traumatising experience 

“i love you, i do, but… not in that way.” his shoulders droop slightly and you feel your heart beginning to crackle like a delicate glass sculpture, each splinter creating more damage than the last, “i love you like you’re the first person i call when i get good news because i know you’ll be proud of me, or when i get bad news because i know you’ll be there to comfort me. i love you, like i envision you standing next to me at my wedding fixing my tie or calming me down when whoever i end up marrying is walking down the aisle. i love you like you’ll be fun auntie y/n who spoils my kids with shopping sprees at the mall and who allows them an extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. i love you because you make me a better person, i love you because you encourage me to be the best version of myself i can possibly be. i love you because you remind me to be smart and kind and humble and honest and i trust you to be the one to put me in my place if i ever need it but i-“

“stop.” you feel nauseated hearing all of these words coming out of his mouth, telling you that he loves you because and he loves you because but not just i love you too. “just stop, jungkook.” you know that you can’t control someone else’s feelings but you can control your own reactions, and if jungkook would’ve kept rattling on you don’t know what you would’ve said but you know you probably would’ve lashed out at him 

and it’s good that you finally got your answer, right? he loves you, but not in that way — not in the way that you love him 

“y/n, please-“ jungkook whispers, reaching out for you, his eyebrows scrunching together when you take a small step back, wrapping your arms around yourself, “please, i can’t lose you as a friend, you mean so much to me-“ 

“i need some time.” you manage to force out, the sickening feeling of humiliation and shame and embarrassment and disappointment and frustration and anger swirling around in your stomach, “i just need some time.”

“how much time?” 

“you should probably go back to the party.” you clear your throat quietly, offering your friend a weak smile, “i heard you and ji-eun were up for best couple’s costume. not saying that jimin rigged the system or anything, but-“ 

“y/n, how much time?” jungkook’s looking at you with sad puppy-dog eyes, and though it breaks your heart to see him like that, you need to put yourself first for once 

every instinct inside of you screams to console jungkook, to reassure him and let him now that you’ll still be around but you just need some space from him and the whole situation 

your eyes begin to water again as you press your lips together, shaking your head quietly, “i’m gonna go see if i can catch the bus home.” 

»»————- 👻 ————-«« 

(- “the FUCK is wrong with you, huh?!” jungkook barks, slamming jimin up against the wall before grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, “you sadistic fuck, who in their right mind would ever fucking do that to another human being?!” 

“i’m the sadistic one?” jimin laughs, reaching up to wrap his fingers around jungkook’s wrists, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one whose been dangling yourself in front of y/n like a damn carrot to a starved rabbit-“ 

“what are you talking about?”

“you can’t stand here and honestly say that you didn’t have an inkling that y/n liked you more than a friend. i’ve seen the way you talk to her, i’ve seen the way you look at her, i’ve seen the way you are around her- you think i’m the evil one? at least i don’t take advantage of my friends who are CLEARLY head over heels in love with me and would obviously do anything i wanted them to do and ask them to help me set up a date that i’m taking someone else out on-“ 

“get a fucking life and mind your own damn business for once, you motherf-“) 

🎙️ console y/n or call out jimin because what the hell was that?! (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[puhpandas]

i like to think that a couple years post ggy tony still gets caught up in mysteries that he can’t help obsessing over and he tries to rope gregory into his crazy plans to investigate

[kimmie2me]

HEYYY I LUV UR POSTS LIKE HELLO?!?! also im sure u know abt the bakugo hc with him with him having hearing aids and is it ok of u make like a fic with him signing nasty stuff to reader cuz he can and nobody around them fully learned sign language yet? PLS AND THANK U!!! 💕💕💕

first of all, THANK YOU!! ILYSM!! second, i am BACK!!!! exams went well, i guess. i didnt PASS or FAIL, but whatever.. third, I LOVE THIS IDEA HAHAHHA!!! here is, what I think, a great welcoming back gift to give u all ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ (ignore that Kaminari's text is blue..there's no yellow. ALSO, mina is NAWT taking pink. thats OUR color now.)

Of Silence and Secrets

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!Reader

…..

Bakugou Katsuki hated his hearing aids.

Hated how they fit, hated how they felt, and most of all, hated what they represented. Weakness. A crack in the armor he’d spent his entire life forging. When the ringing in his ears started as a brat in middle school, he didn’t think much of it. Just the fallout from a quirk-boosted explosion, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Years passed. The ringing grew into dull hums, muffled voices, and missed sounds. A villain’s retreating taunt he couldn’t catch. The screech of a car he didn’t hear. Kirishima shouting his name three times before Bakugou finally turned around, snarling, “What the hell do you want!?” while Kirishima just looked… worried.

His hearing aids were a damn nuisance. At least, that’s what he told himself every single day.

They whined if someone got too close, buzzed when he adjusted them wrong, and gods forbid he so much as grazed them during a fight—one hard knock, and they’d go flying. He could hear again, sure, but better hearing came at a price: realizing just how insufferably loud the world actually was. Katsuki had spent months in denial, refusing to accept that his ears, like the rest of his high-octane life, couldn’t keep up with him.

The ringing had started in his late teens, growing louder until it followed him everywhere. He blamed it on the explosions, the debris, the constant yelling—but really, he knew. His mom did too, though she’d spared him the lecture until the day Kirishima cornered him in his agency office with a sheepish grin and her voice on speakerphone.

“Katsuki.” The way she said his name—sharp, biting, and so unlike her usual bark of “Oi, you brat!”—made his stomach drop. “What if somethin’ happens? What if you miss an evac order or—hell—a cry for help? Hah? What then?”

“… Tch.” He had scowled so hard it hurt. “Fine. I’ll get the damn things.”

The intervention was humiliating, but the worst part? She was right. He hated that more than anything.

That was the first night he slept with the hearing aids sitting on the nightstand. He’d finally picked them up after a year of constant badgering—from his mom, Kirishima, hell, even that damn Deku. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear better—it was the admission that killed him.

But now? Now the stupid things were glued to him. Mostly.

The tech was incredible, of course. Damn nerds at Hero Support had outdone themselves. The hearing aids didn’t just amplify sound; they filtered it, isolating voices during chaos and syncing with comm units. They were waterproof, explosion-proof—Bakugou-proof. Allegedly.

But they weren’t indestructible. He’d broken five pairs in six months. Kaminari had nicknamed him “Break-aid” after the third replacement. Bakugou threatened to shove them where the sun didn’t shine.

And yet… they worked. Too well.

He could hear the scratch of pens during hero conferences, the obnoxious tapping of Kaminari’s foot against the table, the quiet sigh of his own breath. The worst part? The incessant talking. It was everywhere. Fans, reporters, civilians—people who thought their every word needed an audience.

Thankfully, he’d discovered the mute button.

The first time he used it, Kaminari was midway through a rant about his latest gadget. Bakugou, in a rare moment of self-control, didn’t yell. He just flicked the switch, leaned back in his chair, and smirked as Kaminari kept babbling. No explosions, no shouting, just blissful silence.

But there were downsides.

Combat was a nightmare when they broke. Shouting “HUH!?” every five seconds wasn’t exactly strategic. That’s when he decided to learn sign language. Not because anyone suggested it—hell no. But because he’d be damned if he relied on a gadget to do his job.

The process was… frustrating. Hands clumsy, movements stiff. Kirishima tried to help, but his signs were barely legible. Kaminari? Useless. Sero was too busy laughing to be much better or resorted to typing in the Notes app on his phone when it was pretty serious. Deku? That nerd had picked it up in a week, naturally.

But you? You made it bearable.

“Like this,” you’d said, your fingers forming a perfect sign. “Thumb tucked in.”

Bakugou grumbled, but copied you.

“Good. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, ’Suki?”

Your patience annoyed him almost as much as it calmed him. And somehow, over weeks of practice, his stiff movements turned fluid. He’d never admit it, but he liked having this… language, this connection, with you.

And then he realized something else.

You understood him. Not just the signs, but him. The sharpness he couldn’t quite soften, the quiet gratitude he couldn’t voice. And better yet? No one else around him could understand a damn thing he was saying.

It started innocently enough—well, innocent by his standards.

“Bored out of my goddamn mind,” he’d signed at you during a hero conference.

You’d smirked and replied, “Same.”

But then, Bakugou being Bakugou, had an epiphany: he could sign anything.

The first time he tried it, you were sitting across from him at a formal hero banquet. The room was filled with pro heroes, reporters, and politicians. Everyone was dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and pretending the world wasn’t on fire outside.

Bakugou caught your eye and, with the most deadpan expression, signed: Wanna fuck?

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly knocked your glass over. You choked, coughing into your hand, and when someone asked if you were okay, you waved them off, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked, sipping his water like he hadn’t just propositioned you in a room full of Japan’s elite.

…..

It got worse.

During a meeting with the Hero Public Safety Commission, while a bureaucrat droned on about policy changes, Bakugou’s hands moved under the table. He made sure you were looking before signing: I’d rather have you ride me than sit here with these extras.

You froze mid-note, the pen slipping from your fingers. Your face burned as you ducked your head, pretending to scribble something in your notebook. Across the room, Kirishima noticed your sudden movement.

“Hey, you good?” he whispered.

“Fine!” you squeaked, glaring at Bakugou.

He tilted his head, feigning confusion, then casually leaned back in his chair. He looked so smug you wanted to scream.

At a press conference, surrounded by the press corps, TV cameras, and the elite of the hero world, Bakugou stood stiffly at the podium, bored out of his skull. Beside him, you shuffled the note cards you’d prepared, doing your best to stay focused on Midoriya’s answer to a question about villain reform strategies.

Bakugou glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking at how focused you looked. That only made the idea pop into his head faster. He adjusted his stance, one hand casually coming up to rub his neck as the other signed with precision:

I’d fuck you so hard over this podium, the microphones would short out.

Your brain stalled like a computer blue-screening. The cards slipped from your hands, scattering onto the stage floor. You froze in horror as a sea of reporters looked up from their notebooks.

Midoriya, ever the anxious public speaker, stopped mid-sentence. “Uh, are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-yeah! Just... clumsy!” you stammered, dropping to your knees to collect the cards. You didn’t dare look at Bakugou, whose hand came up to his mouth as though stifling a yawn—but you knew he was hiding a smirk.

To make things worse, while you scrambled on the floor, he signed again, deliberately slower so you couldn’t miss it:

Would’ve pulled your hair too, just to hear you scream.

Your face burned so hot you were sure you’d melt through the stage.

It didn’t stop there.

At the next agency-wide meeting, Bakugou sat across from you in the conference room, arms crossed as a pro-hero you couldn't bother to listen to went on and on about new combat protocols. The room was packed with pro heroes, all seated shoulder-to-shoulder.

Bakugou, who’d already tuned out after the first ten minutes, caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow. Before you could react, his hands moved subtly under the table:

I’d eat you out on this table, right in front of everyone, and make sure you couldn’t stay quiet.

The coffee cup in your hand slipped, splashing onto your notes. You cursed under your breath, grabbing napkins to clean the mess.

Kirishima, sitting beside you, leaned over. “Whoa, you okay? You’ve been jumpy lately.”

You forced a smile, not daring to look at Bakugou, whose expression remained infuriatingly neutral. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

It became a game to him.

While Kirishima nodded and went back to his notes, Bakugou adjusted in his chair and signed again:

Bet you’d cry if I used my mouth the way I’m thinking. Probably beg me to stop—but you wouldn’t really mean it.

You slammed your pen down so hard it startled Kaminari, who glanced over with a confused look.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, refusing to look up.

Across the table, Bakugou leaned back, feigning boredom, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

It escalated during a casual outing with the crew.

Everyone had gathered at a bustling ramen joint after a long patrol, crowding into a booth that was way too small for so many people. Bakugou sat to your right, thigh pressed against yours under the table. As the conversation flowed around him, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and casually started eating.

Then, as Mina told a story about her latest villain takedown, he turned his head slightly toward you and signed with one hand:

The things I’d do to you under this table would make you scream so loud they’d kick us out.

You froze, chopsticks hovering mid-air. He didn’t even blink, slurping his noodles like he hadn’t just dropped a verbal nuke into your lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mina asked, noticing your deer-in-headlights expression.

“Uh… spicy broth,” you choked out, grabbing your water and gulping it down.

Bakugou, still chewing, glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and added another one for good measure:

Bet I could make you cum without anyone noticing. Wanna test that theory?

You almost choked on your drink, coughing so hard Kirishima patted your back in concern.

At a charity event, he raised the bar again.

The ballroom was filled with reporters, politicians, and wealthy donors, all eager to mingle with Japan’s most famous heroes. Bakugou hated these events with a burning passion, but at least you were there to make it tolerable.

You stood beside him, chatting politely with a group of businessmen, when you felt his gaze on you. Slowly, you turned your head, already dreading what was coming.

He didn’t disappoint. With the straightest face you’d ever seen, he signed:

You’d look so much better on your knees, with my cock down your throat, than in that dress.

Your hand shot out, nearly spilling your champagne as you fumbled to keep your composure. The Pro Hero you were speaking to paused mid-sentence, giving you a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“I—I’m fine,” you stuttered, setting the glass down before you could break it.

Bakugou tilted his head innocently, signing again:

Bet you’d love it if I bent you over that balcony upstairs. Bet you’d be dripping by the time I was done.

Your jaw dropped, and you 'accidentally' kicked his shin under the table. He didn’t even flinch.

It wasn’t just formal settings, either. Bakugou would strike anywhere.

During a team training session, you were sparring with Kaminari while Bakugou watched from the sidelines. When you finally landed a clean hit, knocking Kaminari flat on his ass, Bakugou clapped slowly, catching your attention.

Wanna know what else you could knock flat? Me. On my back. With you riding me till I forget my own goddamn name.

Your sparring stance faltered, and Kaminari took the opportunity to trip you.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, offering a hand to help you up.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, shooting a glare at Bakugou, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

The worst of all came during a live broadcast.

The Hero Public Safety Commission had organized a televised Q&A with Japan’s top heroes. You sat between Bakugou and Midoriya, fielding questions from both the moderator and the live audience. Bakugou had been unusually quiet for most of the event, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

But then, while the moderator addressed Midoriya, Bakugou caught your attention.

His hands moved lazily, almost imperceptibly, as he signed:

After this, I’m gonna pin you to the wall in the dressing room and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of here straight.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked away, heart hammering in your chest.

“And what about you?” the moderator asked, pulling your attention back to the present.

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” you stammered, cheeks flaming.

Beside you, Bakugou leaned back in his chair, smirking as the moderator repeated the question. His hands shifted again, just enough for you to catch his next message:

If you blush any harder, they’re gonna think you’re into this.

You resisted the urge to scream.

Because, for Bakugou, nothing was funnier than watching you squirm. And knowing you were the only one who could decode his filthy little secrets? That was just the icing on the cake.

…..

Over time, the signing became a secret game. A language only the two of you shared, even if it was insanely one sided. In battle, it was strategic—efficient, silent communication when words couldn’t cut through the noise. Off the field? It was something else entirely.

After a particularly grueling patrol, Bakugou flopped onto the couch beside you, tugging his hearing aids out and tossing them onto the table.

“Another shitty day,” he muttered.

You hummed in agreement, leaning against him.

Without thinking, he signed: You’re the only thing that doesn’t piss me off.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothin’, Cupcake. Just watch the TV..”

And for once, you didn’t press.

Because sometimes, silence said enough.

[madelynraemunson]

CASUAL part 2

see part one here.

modern!incel!asshole! eddie x fem!reader

It’s 7 in the morning. Eddie is seen doom-pacing in the halls of Hawkins High.

a/n: i promised y’all part 2 so here ya go. let’s make him pay. 💋 also shout out to @love-anonymous-writer for bringing this universe to life. a little angst here and there is good for the soul <3

who got the last laugh?

[WC: 1.1k words]

“Please respond…please respond…please respond…”

The soles of Eddie’s shoes slam against the tiles of Hawkins High as he rushes to your locker. Meanwhile his entire soul has left his body.

You didn’t answer any of his phone calls. All the texts he sent you were left on read. Having been so accustomed to your instant replies, Eddie essentially catapulted himself into a full-blown panic last night when he saw the ominous text you sent him...and the nothingness from you that followed soon after.

The crickets of Forrest Hills that taunted his eardrums later that night served as a vengeful metaphor of the brick wall you built between you and him. The girl who once gave him everything has now started giving him nothing. You’re nowhere, but everywhere. It’s like you’ve become a ghost.

When he sees you, color drains from Eddie’s guilty face. You look so beautiful today, hair curled down to the small of your back, a nice simple dress and some slippers, with makeup ever so gracefully applied. A class act, even when plagued with the utmost disrespect.

“Hi," he says to you as he approaches.

“Hi.”

As far as Munson knows, he no longer exists to you. He's a shadow now, a carapace of a boy you used to love 'cuz now — after hearing what you heard in his trailer — you know he's not the same boy that made you feel all the butterflies. That boy is long gone. You even start to wonder if that version of Eddie even existed.

“C-can we talk, please?” he requests.

“What’s to talk about?” you challenge him, stoically. “Don’t wanna annoy you with my rambling.”

“You never annoy me…” he attempts as you mindlessly comb through your locker for your homeroom notebook.

“Mm.”

You were casual about it. Too casual about it.

“You… uh…” he clears his throat. “You made me cookies yesterday?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I was at your door for quite a while so you must’ve been busy. Cookies were taken care of though.”

“I see…” Eddie mutters as the pieces all start coming together.

He thinks about how he always leaves his windows cracked open. His uncle would whoop his ass if he hot-boxed the trailer again, so it became a habit. But the trailer park is small, and on certain afternoon, if someone from a nearby unit had dropped a pin, Eddie would hear it. Suddenly, fear arises in him.

Surely, you didn't hear everything he and The Boys™️ said. He had his headphones on and he couldn't have possibly been that loud, could he? Unless technology failed him again.

The warning bell sounds throughout the halls and you excuse yourself from the narrative. Eddie tags after you like a lost puppy, nearly tripping on his shoelaces along the way.

"W-wait!"

The first class of the morning is homeroom. A class you unfortunately shared with Eddie, Grant, and Harmony.

You didn't want to see any of their faces. Eddie's face would serve as a reminder of how fake and construed the fucker is. Grant's would remind you of how insignificant you were to the guys (despite how welcomed they made you feel at the start). And Harmony. Harmony's beautiful face — with a body far too developed for a girl in her grade to match — would only remind you of the fact that the girl didn't inherently do anything to you... other than be beautiful and get caught in the crossfire of horny, greasy teenage boys.

It’s a fucking mess.

You swallow hard and keep your chin up regardless. Because what other choice do you have? You either feign your confidence or let irrelevant boys crush it.

You continue strutting over to your seat as Eddie trails behind at a measurable distance. Along the way, you inevitably run into the Junior Queen of Hawkins High herself, Harmony Heathers.

Harmony issues you a sweet smile. You smile back at her in return. And you didn't even need to turn your back to know that Eddie most likely did a double-take when sliding past her.

The late bell rings, indicating the start of class.

“Okay,” your homeroom teacher Mrs. Helleck exhales as she clasps her hands together. “Good morning everybody. For Red Ribbon Week this week, we’re gonna be doing a group project. Worth 20-percent of your grade.”

The class erupts in agonistic groans while Mrs. Helleck attempts to calm them down. You feel Eddie’s gaze burn into you, indicative to the fact that he was looking forward to using you again like he always seems to do. This time around it would be for a grade instead of a two-pump fuck. But you had something else in mind.

“You will be doing a presentation,” Helleck continues. “With a partner of your choice. Your job is to create a slogan along with a list of reasons why you should stay away from drugs.”

“Drugs Instead of Hugs,” Grant mutters to Eddie.

The general vicinity collectively praises his lukewarm wannabe 4-Chan edged joke.

You roll your eyes while your poor homeroom teacher tries to proceed with her instructions, despite the immature snickers.

“You will be presenting with your partner on Friday. Do not wait until last minute to do this assignment please. Deadlines catch up to you fast.”

Mrs. Helleck makes her way over to you.

Like Dungeons and Dragons, everyone in the class is assigned a “classroom role”. You’re the leader of the pack, the ‘foreman’, to which you never understood because up until today you never had the confidence to call the shots. The alphabet has never been on your side anyways.

“Now dear,” your teacher smiles down at you. “Since your last name starts with an A, you get first choice. Who would you like to work with?”

Eddie’s gaze is extra fixated on you now. It gives you a greater deal of satisfaction than tossing those cookies ever did. It was you who had the reigns now, instead of those woman-patronizing incels.

You start to smile connivingly, to which the guys start to gulp over. You can tell they’re putting two and two together, their two brain cells collectively working over time to discover that you had a delicious upper-cut up your sleeve.

It’s the very least they can do. If they wanted to taint your name to smithereens in your absence, you’re sure as hell going to give them something else to lose their minds about in Math 3.

And when all eyes are fixated on you, you tilt your chin up to project your voice. You want to make sure everyone, especially Grant and Eddie, hear you loud and clear when you sinisterly announce,

“I pick Harmony.”

tag list: @damp4eddie @eddiesguitarskills @babygirl229 @love-anonymous-writer @ziggeddie @socially-awkward-eliza @shesahellfirebabe @ali-r3n @yourdailymemedelivery @mincloud @jupitersnights @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @whisperingtales @fearlessreid @emma-munson

divider by: @benkeibear

[azhdarchian]

Behold! A man

[purplecoffee13]

Mr. Sunshine - Part Four* (final part)

Summary: “You take Harry back to your dorm, things go down, and confessions are made.”

Wc: 2.5k

Tropes: grumpy!MC x sunshine!Harry

Warnings: SMUT, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, gentle dom!harry

A/N: Happy Friday loves! I finished writing the last part of Mr. Sunshine today, and I wanted to share it right away! I loved writing this story line so much and I’ll definitely do check-ups on Sunshine!Harry. This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but I almost cried while writing it. (this may also have to do with hormones, but oh well) enjoy!!!

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

From the moment you and Harry are inside your room and the door shuts, his lips are on yours again. Your lips are tingling with how much they had missed Harry's in the short moment that you opened your front door. But now you were inside, walking backwards until Harry pushed you onto your bed, slowly climbing over you.

Your roommate had gone to her parents' house for the weekend, as it was her mom's birthday, so you had the room all to yourself tonight.

You let out the smallest fraction of a whine at the feel of Harry's fingers tracing up and down your body, feeling every last bit of you in the process. You feel the way Harry's lips cockily curls up before engulfing you into an even deeper kiss, with that sparking an even louder sound of pleasure from your mouth.

"Fuck. Such pretty sounds you make, sunshine." Harry says breathlessly in between kisses, his mouth leaving yours and latching onto your neck, kissing his way down. Your heat is on fire, at least it feels like that. Harry's touch is so familiar and it felt like it belongs on your skin.

"Harry..." you roll your eyes as he sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck, fondling your breast with his free hand. You wrap your legs around him in an attempt to bring him closer. You need him as close as he can get; you need him inside you.

"Talk to me, sunshine, what do you need?" He asks in a soft, teasing tone. You let out a whimper, your head too fuzzy to create any real sentences right now. When he senses that you aren't going to answer any time soon, he decides to taunt you some more. "I can't give you anything if you don't tell me what you need."

He lets another few seconds go by, and when still no answer fall from your lips, he starts to pull away. And just like clockwork, you break.

"No!" You yelp, propping yourself up on tour elbows. Your eyes widen at the sound of your own sudden desperation. You spot the amused glint in Harry's eyes, and sigh.

"I—... I need you."

The words leave your mouth in an irritated mumble, and it's when Harry realizes he's got you right where you've got him ever since that first project.

"C'mon sunshine, you can do better than that. Say it like you mean it." He demands, grinning from ear to ear as he leans over you again. You let yourself lay back on the mattress, and breathe. With his scent above you and in your memory, you allow yourself to let it all go. Let the pressure and the pride flow away.

"I need you, Harry. I need you so bad. Don't be mean, don't keep me empty... please?" You go against your own rationality, instead doing something that you've secretly longed your life to do, let someone else take control. Harry just stares at you, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets at your sly words. He swallows.

"Holy fuck... Of course, baby, I'll give you everything you need. Everything I have." He says, hiking up your dress and taking off your panties. Harry sits back, watching your wet cunt all spread out for him. He cannot believe you are here, lying in front of him with a hunger in your eyes that he only believed him to be capable of.

His thumb traces over your clit, slightly rubbing it. You gasp at the contact, it sending a shiver down your spine. With lazy eyes, you stare up at him, waiting for his next move. You squirm, the tender touch not being enough in the slightest. Harry laughs, tutting you as he shakes his head.

"Desperate little thing." He murmurs before sticking a finger inside your slick pussy. A strangled moan escapes your lips, your eyes falling shut at the feel of his long finger — and soon fingers, because he is quick to add another — pumping in and out of you. A string of sounds come from you as Harry keeps on digging his fingers in and out of you. He leans forward, his breath fanning against you ear.

"Is this good for you, sunshine?" He asks rhetorically, because the way you are crumbling under him is indication enough. He seems to know so too. "That's what I thought, baby. Just needed someone to take care of you, didn't you? Well, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

His digits drive deeper into you, and you bit your lips to contain your moans at the combination of his fingers and his filthy words.

"Is that it, hmm? Need someone to take control? Take your mind off everything other than cumming over and over again?" Harry asks further, and you let out a strangled 'yes'. He chuckles lowly before leaning back, instead paying full attention to your pussy.

You let out somewhat of a scream when Harry's lips plant themselves onto your clit, your back arching from the sudden rush of pressure. Your orgasm is nearing, and Harry's lips will only have you riding out your high in no time.

"Oh my god... I'm going to cum—" but before you can even finish your sentence, Harry intensifies the suction on your clit, and soon you are coming all over his fingers. He makes sure to pump out your high, then softly taking his fingers out of you. You nearly come again at the sight of him sticking his own fingers into his mouth to taste your cum.

In a flash, you are reaching for his pants. You unbuckle his seatbelt and lower his pants and underpants, letting his cock spring free. You are about to return the favor he just gave you, but Harry puts your hands away.

"No foreplay for me, I just want to get inside of you." He says in a husky tone that has you melting for him. "Do you have a condom?"

Fuck.

"No." You say, your voice sounding strained as the word leaves your mouth. No! You can't believe you don't have a condom. Actually you can, because you didn't hook up with anyone in a really long time. But you couldn't not do this. You needed Harry inside of you. When he pulls away from you, you start to panic.

"No! Wait, no. Just get inside me. We can do it raw. I'm clean. I'll take the morning after pill." You start to plead, but it dies down when you see Harry grab his wallet and pull a condom out of it.

"You— you had a condom in your wallet?" You ask him hesitantly . He shakes his head.

"I have condoms in my car. I took some with me when you invited me in." He shrugs, wrapping the condom around his hard shaft. He leans over you once again, lining himself up with your slick cunt.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face, because at this point he is just making you suffer.

"Harry, stop teasing. I can't wait any longer, I need you so bad— ah!" You interrupt yourself with a loud moan when Harry pushes himself into you. He lets out an equal volume groan at the feel of his cock buried inside your pussy. He's been dreaming about this since forever. He never dared to dream he'd ram inside you after you begged for his cock. It strokes his ego in a way that nothing else ever had.

Harry begins pounding into you harshly, your whole body and bed moving along with his violent thrusts. You try to hold onto his arms for steadiness, but Harry has a different idea. He pulls up your dress over your head, but leaves it around your arms, forcing them to stay above your head. It restricts you from having further authority of how your body bounces around, and you are now completely at his mercy.

"This is it, huh? What you needed? Getting fucked so hard until the only thing your pretty mind can remember is my name?" Harry growls, throwing a leg over your shoulder so he can dive deeper into you. He succeeds at doing it, and his rewarded with a loud 'yes!' from you. "Just needed me to take the reins, right? So bratty for me during the day, but you just want to give all that control to me in between the sheets, don't you?"

You don't want to answer, and even if you did, you can't. Harry has been fucking you completely dumb for the past minutes and even the thought of a coherent sentence can't be processed right now. Harry laughs at the way you lay there,

"Don't try and deny it. The way you begged for my raw cock proves enough. Poor baby was nearly gonna cry at the thought of not getting my cock." Harry's thrusts become harder, having you nearly flying off the bed if it isn't for him holding you down by your hips. Your tits shake along and the sight of it is more than he can bare.

"Well you don't have to worry, sunshine. I'll  give it you whatever you want. Although, I'm sure that you'll be satisfied with whatever I choose to give you. You'll just lay there and take it, won't you?"

That's what does it for you. It takes you over the edge. Your eyes fall shut as you scream out Harry's name, and even the way he keeps on hammering into you fades for a second as the high hits you. By the time you see clearly again, you notice that Harry's pace hasn't faltered, and he is even circling your clit with his thumb.

With your jaw slack, you try to protest against the overstimulation, but every sound that comes out sounds like you are in total agreement with it. And you are, but you just haven't felt this much... ever.

"You need to cum with me, baby. I have to feel it." Harry orders. You scream out at the harshness of the circles he is rubbing, but the slight pain only inches you closer to the edge you had visited only a minute ago.

"G—gonna cum again, ah fuck!" You tell him, slowly opening your eyes to find his. "Come for me, come inside me. Please, please."

Harry's pupils dilate at the way you are begging for him. It is more than he can handle. His thrusts become sloppy as he lets out a string of curse words, hot spurts of cum spurting into the condom as he groans out your name. He lets himself fall forward, steadying himself with his arms, that lean against the bed on both sides of your body.

He leans forward, planting his lips against yours. The kiss is smooth and tender, filled with the love that has been pouring out since he saw you for the first time.

"I can't believe you're mine." Harry smiles at you like a fool as you run your hand through his soft hair. You cock an eyebrow, playfully.

"I wasn't aware we had established such labels yet." You argue, and Harry shakes his head, laughing at your need to have control over everything.

"I think that the fact that I'm still inside of you counts for establishment, does it not?" Harry counters with a smirk, leaving you speechless. Your silence soon turns into a chuckle, and you shut your eyes at how ridiculous this all is. Harry joins you in your laughter.

After a while, he pulls himself out of you carefully, studying your face to see if he is not accidentally hurting you. You hiss at the loss of the feel of him anyway, and it might hurt more mentally than physically to not have him fill you up anymore. It feels strangely empty. It is as that thought crosses your mind, you realize: you are utterly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

If you miss someone whose chest is still pressed against you, it is the result of the failure of your coping mechanism, and the success of years of trying. You look at Harry, who is now lying next to you, with big eyes.

"How did you do that?" You ask, scanning over his face.

"What?"

"Make love seem so easy." You blurt out before you can even become aware of what you just said. Your cheeks turn bright red once it dawns on you, and while you are sure your eyes radiate panic, his face is as calm and secure as ever.

"Because loving you is easy, sunshine." Harry answers simply. As if it isn't a big deal. As if he hasn't just confessed that he loves you. For some reason, he can't find it in himself to worry about you running away. It wouldn't have mattered if you did, he would have still said it. He just needed you to know.

Your eyes begin to water, and your ears are ringing in the aftermath of hearing a sentence you had always feared to be untrue. These past two years you had done nothing but keep your distance, from anything and everything, to the very point where you feared you could never change your mind if you wanted to. You were too far, and the wall around you was too tall for anyone to brave, including yourself.

And now you are lying next to someone who built a door between those bricks and waltzed through it as if entering his own house. How lucky you are to have someone change the construct of your mind's constraints and tell you it didn't feel hard, or difficult, or exhausting.

"Loving you sure is easier than tutoring you, Mr. Sunshine." You stifled out a laugh as your welled up eyes let a couple of tears roll over your face. Harry's mouth creeps up into a crooked smile, alike yours. He grabs your hips and pulls you on top of him.

"Mr. Sunshine, huh? Is that the title we are establishing?" He asks, stealing your answer away by interrupting you with a kiss. You let his lips run over yours, tongues dancing around each other, already having memorized each other's favorite steps. You lean back, nodding at him.

"You have always been more sunshine than me, anyway." You shrug, your fingers tracing over his chest. Harry's eyes analyze every bit of you, before locking with yours.

"Mr and Mrs. Sunshine, I like that." He hums in approval, his hands gliding up and down your upper thighs. You smile, leaning forward and letting yourself lay on top of him, head tucked in between his neck. Harry's hand immediately digs into your hair, toying with the strands as you take a deep breath. A full one, a safe one, a whole one. Harry's head shifts so his mouth his by your ear, and he whispers:

"I'll have you know that you are the biggest light of a person I know. You're not just Mrs. Sunshine, you are the sun, okay?"

You nod into his neck. "Okay."

[megwritesriddles]

Christmas as friends with Tom Riddle ༊*·˚

Word count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Authors note: Another one of these odd structure mini fics. Riddle is DEFINITELY out of character in this sorry, but Christmas is fluff time, I don't make the rules. This was originally going to be a series of scenarios with Riddle at various relationship stages, but of course the next one I wrote turned into a beast (friends with benefits), so here's this while I finish the other. Whatever this is, I hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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You are patrol partners

Because of this, you’ve formed an unlikely friendship

You mainly discuss impersonal topics while you walk; homework, new research in potions publications, the latest news in the Daily Prophet (Riddle particularly likes to discuss crime reports), policies passed by the Minister of Magic, or the occasional morsel of student gossip that Riddle doesn’t feel ‘above’ discussing

He’s thrilled that you can keep up with him intellectually (for the most part) even if you often find yourselves disagreeing on things

He likes to get your perspective and opinions more and more these days

It often feels like the two of you are very close, until you try to recall any detail about him beyond extremely surface level information

He keeps himself entirely hidden from you

Whenever you try to get to know him more personally, he shuts down

Even things that seem innocuous

“Yes! I promise that really is a saying!” you chuckle as he teases you for using a seemingly silly idiom.

“I don’t give a Doxy’s nip? Really?” he imitates, pinching your arm playfully to emphasise the words, briefly glancing into the small alcove you pass to check for any rulebreakers.

“Yes! Have you seriously never heard that before? Where did you grow up?” you giggle. Suddenly he tenses up, his small smile falling off of his face. He’s silent, ignoring your very normal question in favour of intently staring down the corridor, hoping to find a student sneaking around just to change the focus. You frown in confusion. You were used to him shutting down if asked about family, or anything else potentially highly emotional, but just where he was from. It was a completely harmless question, in fact, you couldn’t really think of any answer that would have you react badly. You only wanted a town or a county, but now Riddle is walking faster, a sign that he wants to get your patrol over and done with, as opposed to his measured pace from just before. “I merely wanted a county, Tom,” you whisper as you trot to keep up with him, trying to ensure he knew you weren’t trying to pry. He’s silent for another long moment.

“London,” he puffs out. You wonder what on earth was so bad about that. “Don’t ask more,” he adds, still not looking at you or slowing down. Ah, so there was something painful or embarrassing in the details. You really couldn’t imagine what. You don’t ask any more, not wanting to upset him. Eventually, he slows back down to walk by your side, but very few words are spoken the rest of the patrol.

You like Riddle a lot, he’s witty and intelligent and has a wicked sense of humour

Not to mention HANDSOME

However, he’s quite odd in this way, he has many secrets

He seems more touchy when you ask questions since he knows you actually want to know him, not just be polite and small talk with him

His normal evasive answers would never cut it for you, so he shuts down

He knows plenty about you, you’re happy to speak about yourself and he absorbs what you say completely

Knowledge is power after all

Using this knowledge, he sends you a lovely personal Christmas card over the break, the time alone and away from you strengthening his fondness for the connection the two of you have built, making him more willing to make a gesture he never normally would make

It’s full of jokes and references he knows you’ll like, as well as a few rare expressions of gratitude for knowing you

You’re unable to write back, not knowing where to send your owl as he’s never told you where he’s from, the owl he sent having disappeared as soon as it was free of its card

You tell your owl to find Tom Riddle, but it returns the next day, looking very unhappy, your card still attached to its leg

“There you are!” you huff in exasperation when you finally locate him on the train on the way back to Hogwarts, alone in a compartment gazing out of the window. His handsome face turns to you, he looks tired, but otherwise as flawless as ever. 

“Why were you looking for me? I always sit alone on the train,” you can’t read his tone, annoyed or vulnerable? You press on, digging his card out from the front pocket of your bag and handing it to him.

“My owl couldn’t find you no matter what I told her, and I had no address, so late card it is,” you smile awkwardly. Riddle takes the card and opens it up as you sit beside him. It’s a classic wizarding world card, a moving image of some cats covered in tinsel. It’s a bit cheesy for Riddle’s liking and he makes a face, but you nudge him and he rolls his eyes, opening the card. He reads your sweet words silently, you expressing how much you’d like to know him better, and promises that you would not judge him no matter what his story was. He’s a little embarrassed as your writing reminds him how vulnerable he had been in his own card. He sighs and closes the card as you look at him expectantly.

“It’s hard for me to talk about,” he whispers.

“I figured that, you can take your time, so long as you let me in eventually,” you answer. “I just… I like you, I enjoy your company, I want to know something about you, something real,” you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. Though this move surprises him, he accepts it quietly, realising all too suddenly why it is you want so badly to know him inside and out. His arm sits loosely around your waist, feeling the knit pattern of your jumper under his fingertips. He doesn’t know how or why he’s fallen into this position with you so naturally, but instead of complaining, he just tightens his hold on you slightly.

“I spent Christmas at a muggle orphanage, that’s why your owl couldn’t find me,” he admits after a while. He interrupts before you can ask questions. “I grew up there, I’ve already aged out, but they let me stay there over Christmas due to Professor Dippett’s pressuring since no one could stay at Hogwarts this Christmas,” he takes a shaky breath. “I won’t be allowed back, not that I want to go, I’m on my own after graduation, no family, no other support, nowhere to stay,” you frown deeply at this and he stares out of the window as the grey countryside rushes by. “Perhaps you can see why I was embarrassed,”

“I can, but I don’t judge you for it,” you murmur sincerely, watching his side profile.

“I should have known, you’ve always been such a bleeding heart,” he scoffs with mock disdain, turning to look down at you where you rest on his shoulder. You roll your eyes and smile, he smiles back slightly. Leaning forward, he hesitantly presses his lips to your forehead. It’s a foreign gesture, but one that feels completely lovely to do. He holds you slightly closer and places another, slightly more sure kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for the card, for caring, I’m not used to any care beyond shallow fawning, and even that is completely misplaced,” he admits, the floodgates of his emotions now seemingly open. But you don’t run or even seem to judge, just as promised. “I’m not who anyone thinks I am, no one else knows about the orphanage, only a few professors, no one else knows anything”

“Let me meet the real you,” you mutter. He looks unsure. “Someone has to eventually or you won’t be able to keep up the act,”

“Maybe so,” he kisses your forehead gently once more. “But let me enjoy this first,”

“You think it will be over if I meet the real you?” you chuckle affectionately, enjoying as he kisses down your temple to your cheek. “Come on,” There’s a moments hesitation as he contemplates the real him.

He says nothing.

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xoxoxo Merry Christmas xoxoxo