#small little angst at the end bc why not!! both of them are so sad LOL! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karikarasuno · 2 years

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Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings/Tags: Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Implied Trauma, Discussions of Grief & Death, Arguing in the middle of a Tropical Storm, Smut (18+ only), Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Slight Body Worship

a/n: oh lord, it’s here, all done and i’m feeling stupid sentimental about it. what will i think about now, if not shouta aizawa? this was a journey and thank you to everyone that have been sending me such sweet words of encouragement and support, fr ily. happy bigbangacademia day, and i’m a little sad to see the summer end and am forever grateful to have been apart of this. pls check out all of the other amazing pieces bc i know i will be.

part one | part two | part three

The bed is fuller. The space that you’re accustomed to is now being taken up and you’re confused. Your half conscious mind is struggling to comprehend how little space you have because it’s something you’re not used to anymore. Whatever, or better yet, whoever is laying beside you will not stop fidgeting. They’re limbs squirm beneath the bedsheets beside you and some of the comforter that you’re wrapped in is now being pulled in the opposite direction.

“Eri, you’re going to wake her up if you keep worming around,” Shouta whispers, his voice stern but slightly amused at her antics. You can sense that it’s early morning. The sun has barely risen and the room is cooler than usual. Goosebumps light up your skin as a result. You bury your face in your pillow so as to not alert them that you’re already awake. And you keep from flinching when Eri’s cold feet press into your exposed calf. You smile, though, because you remember that she always runs cold. Much like Shouta does.

Her hand brushes your shoulder blade next, her little fingertips pressing into your skin before she’s pulling away with a lighthearted, “oops.”

“Eri, seriously stop,” he laughs under his breath, probably pulling her body closer to his when she’s no longer cuddled into your side. This isn’t the first time Eri has snuck her way into your bed. After the raid on Shie Hassaikai, Eri was under Shouta’s care, and by proxy under yours. And when you weren’t staying on the campus she often went back to the apartment you two still owned.

At the start, her sneaking into your shared bed was a result of everything that happened. Often startled awake by nightmares or afraid because she didn’t recognize the room she awoke in. You understood very quickly why she was placed with you and Shouta. When her quirk would flare up outside of her control, he was the only one able to stop it. But when her emotions got the better of her, you were there to help her through them. The two of you made a solid partnership. Any challenge solved in stride and with an ease that would make most people envious. Even you are jealous of the people that you used to be.

“When are you coming back home?” She tries to whisper, her voice just above one as she readjusts again.

“Soon,” Shouta answers, voice quieter than hers in an attempt not to wake you.

“Can I stay with you again when you come back? I miss my room,” Eri says, the habit of calling the spare bedroom hers was immediate as soon as she moved in. It wasn’t the easiest transition at the time, but a necessity that the two of you had to adjust to rather quickly. Then it was almost odd not to refer to it as hers.

“I don’t see why not. We love having you there,” he says, and you assume he tickles her because she giggles suddenly, her elbow coming out and accidentally poking your back.

“Do you think she’ll be happier if I’m there?” And it seems like the question stuns the both of you. A silence that weighs a ton has the room feeling too small and the bed feeling way too overcrowded. There’s a moment of this silence that lasts an eternity, but you recognize it’s realistically only been a few seconds.

“What do you mean?” The question is hesitant and small. He sounds almost uncomfortable and like he doesn’t actually want an answer. But if you’re being honest, you’re not sure you want one either.

“Um, I just think she’s sad sometimes,” she starts, words very carefully chosen as her little body stills next to yours. “And the only reason I know what being sad looks like is because she taught me that sometimes I feel sad.”

You stiffen. You hope it isn’t noticeable, but your breath also stutters and you pray he isn’t looking in your direction or else he’d know for sure that you are no longer asleep. You hadn’t realized you’d been so obvious about how you were feeling, especially when you spent time with her. You thought you’d been so careful about masking it, but Eri was perceptive, far more than anyone gives her credit for. It makes sense though, having to read everyone’s emotions just to survive. It’s a miracle she turned out mostly fine with her daily routine depending on if whoever walked into her cell of a bedroom was in a good mood or a bad one.

“Did she say to you that she felt that way?”

“No,” Eri replies, and your heart rate is picking up. There’s an overwhelming amount of guilt sticking to the chambers of your heart because of it. “Her smile is different and she’s always looking far away.”

It’s excruciating, the quiet that follows. You wish you were still asleep, wish that you were unconscious in some way in order to be ignorant to this entire conversation. Unfortunately, your recent streak of luck hasn’t been in your favor at all.

“Oh, I know!” She gasps rather loudly and Shouta quickly shushes her before her voice drops into a whisper again. “You can take her out for ice cream. Remember when I was feeling sad that time and you took me to get some and I tried aaaalll the flavors on those little spoons.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Shouta says, and you now wish you could see the look on his face. If it matched his tone at all, you could perfectly imagine the sadness in his tired eyes and it stings.

“That was my favorite day,” she adds dreamily. “I was so happy.”

The crew leave later that evening and you aren’t feeling so happy about it. After the conversation you overheard this morning in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You and Shouta had been carefully tiptoeing around each other ever since, and you have the distinct feeling that he knows. He knows that you heard more than you’re letting on, but just like everything else, you avoid it. It’s a special skill the two of you have developed, where anything can happen and you won’t talk about it. And as much as you both like to pretend that everything is fine. That everything is normal. In every way that’s not true, so an explosion is bound to happen, you’re just too anxious to think about what that catalyst will be.

It’s much easier to ignore what's wrong when everyone is around. The dinner the night before went better than anything you could’ve imagined. It was as if the old versions of yourselves were at that doorstep, and you didn’t have to worry about the eggshells that always seem to be littering the floor these days. You laughed, and for the first time it wasn’t strained or tight in your throat. And he smiled, so openly that you almost reached over Eri’s head to kiss him when you were seated at the table.

But now the suffocating silence returned. And he’s back in the spare bedroom, lights off with only the blue light of his laptop illuminating his features. You had asked if he needed anything before you went to shower for bed. An attempt at bridging some sort of gap. He said no, that he is going to work on a few things and he’d join you as soon as he was done. It is the tiniest of steps, but it’s more than what you’ve been getting from him this far. And maybe you’d actually go to sleep together tonight. On your own sides of the bed with the foot of space between your backs. But at least it would be at the same time.

You turn on the showerhead absentmindedly, undressing slowly as you go over this weekend in your head. Your mind is far off and you’re reminded that you guess you have a tendency of zoning out courtesy to Eri for noticing such a thing. You shake your head with a small laugh to yourself, forcing your mind to try and be present. Before you step into the shower though, there’s a crawling sensation on your foot. You don’t think much of it until you look down and see the largest cockroach you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing in your life.

The shriek that leaves you is unintentional as you fling your foot out and watch as it flies to the other side of the bathroom. The only thing is, by flying you mean it has wings and it’s coming right back in your direction.

The second scream is out of pure, frightened disgust, and really you can’t control it because it’s humongous. You yank the towel from off the rack next to the shower door, squealing again with stress as you corner yourself as far away from the insect as you possibly could. You weren’t thinking of Shouta when you reacted though, so him crashing through the bathroom door is the last thing you expect to see. The hair that was tied at the back of his head has more strands falling out of the hair tie than in it. And he looks genuinely worried, his body is hardened and ready for a fight. Years of hero instincts kicking into overdrive as he races to assess the situation.

Except instead of finding the villain you’re positive he expected to find, it’s just you. Naked, vulnerable, and being antagonized by a roach you swear is the size of your palm.

“Kill it,” you squeak out, finger pointing in the direction of your opponent as you glance frantically between it and your husband. Too on edge to keep your eyes off of it for long lest it come back to crawl all over you again.

“Kill it,” you say again, your voice shaking but firm in your demand.

“You’re kidding me,” he says, visibly relaxing as he slides the slipper off one of his feet and holds it steady in one hand.

“I wish I was, Shouta,” you whine, body shuddering with the memory of the bug on your skin. “Can you just kill it, please?”

And when his eyes meet yours, he’s hiding a smile. He wants to laugh, but knows he shouldn’t. You want to laugh too, but can’t help but still feel like you’re being hunted by something ten times smaller than you. Shouta creeps towards it, muscles still flexed as he stalks towards it with a hand raised up by his shoulder and you shield yourself behind his movements. It's crawling on the bath mat now, no care in the world, and you wonder if it knows that you’re so terrified. You wonder if it finds sick and twisted enjoyment at knowing you are thoroughly at its mercy. And when Shouta lunges at it, body lurching forward. The thing has the nerve to fly over his head and straight at you.

In that moment, you determined that yes, it does know and yes, it is just as sadistic as you think it is. You let out another high pitched scream, sharp enough to hurt your own eardrums as you throw your hands over your head and wave them about like a maniac. You hear a low chuckle then, completely entertained and under any other circumstances you’d scold him for laughing at you. But if this is what it takes to hear him so freely, you guess you’d fight a hundred cockroaches in the bathroom. Fine, maybe not that many. But enough to hear his laugh for a lifetime.

He bumps your shoulder, then. His arm extends past your torso and he smacks his shoe against the tile and with a sharp crunch you know its dead. Which should be a relief, except you’re no longer concerned with the dead roach that interrupted your shower. You’re far more distracted by Shouta, who’s standing up straight now, his clothed arm pressing into your stomach and butterflies erupt there. Butterflies you assumed were long gone.

“I got it,” he breaths, oddly proud of himself as he focuses his attention on you. And you know you’re flushed, breaths coming heavier with the unexpected exertion of energy, but even more so by your husband, who’s touching you. Yes it’s through two layers of fabric, but you can feel him in a way you haven’t in so long.

“Thanks,” you exhale, arms limp at your side. You’re frozen beneath his stare, glued to the spot that his eyes are pinning you to and you’re lightheaded. In that thrilling, adrenaline fueled kind of way.

Your towel slips when he shifts away from you, his forearm no longer holding it in place when he does. And before you can react with enough time to catch it, he pinches the coarse material between two fingers and hovers it just above your breasts. His hand is still a very conscious hair’s breadth away from your exposed body, the towel raised enough to keep you decent.

“Any time,” he says before shaking the towel in a sign that you should probably take it from him. So you do, gathering it in both of your hands and pressing it into your sternum. You’re surprised when he doesn’t move. When he holds your eye contact for a second longer than necessary before slipping out of whatever tense atmosphere you created to clean up the roach in some toilet paper and then flushing it down the toilet.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t so affected by him. Lying if you waved off your reaction and watered it down to sexually frustrated attraction. Yet, you’d also be kidding yourself if you ignored the blush that stained his face. The red that is so deep, you know he tried to hide it on his way out with the hair that is now framing his face. You smile. And for the first time since you’ve arrived at this little house on the beach it's hopeful.

“Thanks for stopping by, Kirishima.” You lean a hand on your office door as you walk Kirishima out. He came over just as the lunch period began, a little rattled and incredibly antsy. He word-vomited for some odd minutes before you were able to calm him down enough to get him to tell you what was really going on.

“Thanks for listening,” he shrugs, his usual demeanor returning to him and he smiles up at you all toothy and bright. “I’m just really worried about him, y’know.”

“Of course, and I’m sorry you felt like you had to go save him,” you say, remembering the mess that occurred when some of the students snuck off campus to rescue Bakugo from the villains that kidnapped him. “It was dangerous, but I have to admit it was brave and I’m happy you guys got him out safely.”

“Yeah, seems like you’re the only one who thinks so,” he adds, a tad forlorn and obviously still beating himself up over it. But he shakes himself of the thought, features reconstructing once again to the cheerful smile he always seems to wear. “Anyway, sorry to bother ya!”

“Not a bother,” you say, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “and I’ll try to talk to him.”

“You’re the best.” He smiles again, and it’s sweet, before he heads off to eat with whatever remaining time he has left in his lunch.

It’s not for lack of trying. As soon as Bakugo was returned safely and he had some time to come to terms with being freshly kidnapped, you tried to get him in for a session. Even went as far as scheduling him and having Shouta tell him that he needs to come to the meeting. But he didn’t show up. And you weren’t entirely surprised.

He’s training. It’s all he’s been doing since he got back, and you understand why. He wants to be stronger, to not have to be put in such a vulnerable position like that again. But he has a tendency to bottle things up, and eventually, especially in his case, he has a recurring theme of ‘exploding.’ His quirk is quite aggressive, so it only makes sense that the way he copes with things manifests in a similar fashion. And it’s not like you want to change him, you just want to talk to him.

But he’s good at avoiding you. A little too good and it’s frustrating.

Your day ends late. Like it has been for the last couple of weeks. It’s already dark out when you leave your office and you text Shouta about dinner plans but he said he was going to miss it. Late night training session with Shinsou, probably. And you’re genuinely happy Shinsou is getting the training he deserves, he works so hard and you don’t want to see his potential go to waste. But you’d be lying if you didn’t say you missed your husband.

After the USJ attack, you were glued to Shouta’s side as he recovered, but once he was all healed and cleared to tackle work again, he hit the ground running. So seeing him was only ever in passing and you missed him. It’s not like you could entirely say you hadn’t been doing something similar, though. I mean tonight alone you are leaving your office hours later than you should’ve been.

The sun has long ago set, the campus quiet, but the evening is nice. There’s a gentle breeze that accompanies you to your room, the leaves rustling beside you as you stroll. Deciding that you can take your time since you don’t have any plans other than to relax once you get there. There’s a crunching in the distance, though, and the hairs on your arms stand up. Since all of the recent attacks, you’ve taken it upon yourself to brush up on your self defense, even going as far as training your quirk to have some kind of defensive behavior. So you activate it in your palms, the blood rushing through your body now pounding in your ears and you try to remain calm. But it's hard.

You quiet your steps as you creep closer to the sounds, phone already set to dial for help in case you need it. But when you round the corner, peeking around a particularly thick tree trunk, you see Bakugo. He’s perched on a flat rock that’s elevated a few feet off of the ground. His legs are dangling off the edge and he’s resting with his face in his hands and elbows on his knees. You don’t want to disturb him, he’s clearly trying to sort something out, but your intuition is telling you that now is your chance to try with him. And that this will absolutely be your only one.

You disable your quirk, shutting off your phone screen in the process as you step around the tree and into the small clearing. He hears you immediately, his head shooting up from his hands as his eyes narrow into angry slits.

“It’s just me,” you say, holding your hands up in surrender as you continue to close the distance between you. He’s tired. His usual combative energy is only a fraction of what it usually is and he turns his face away from you to look into the density of the woods.

“What’re you doing here?” He even sounds just as tired as he looks, and you’re not sure if he’s even aware that the walls that he’s built so thickly around him are starting to erode. To thin enough for you to see straight through him.

“I was heading back to the dorms before I heard a weird noise coming from over here,” you say casually, stopping a few feet away from where he’s sitting to observe him.

“So you head towards the suspicious sound? I’ve seen people in horror movies make smarter decisions than that,” he scoffs, but the usual bite is gone, even the bark is dialed down to an unrecognizable degree.

“Good thing I didn’t stumble upon danger then, just you,” you say, taking another small step forward towards the small boulder. He doesn’t slide away from you, though, so you use that as a sign to close the space a bit more and lean on the rock next to him.

“How are you doing by the way?” You ask, maybe not being as sly as you want to be, but you also don’t know when you’ll set him off and if he’ll storm away from you like he has before. He shakes his head in irritation though, dropping it to look at his feet before he shrugs. He’s exhausted. You don’t know if he’s been sleeping. Or even eating properly. Clearly something is off enough for Kirishima to ask you to look into it.

“Why d’you care?” He responds, tone gruff and annoyed, but laced with a sadness that claws at you.

“Because I do.” It comes out more forceful than you intended, the words coming out with a harsh edge. Almost offended.

“Only because it’s your job.”

“No,” your brows furrow and your hands come up to brace your body weight on your palms in order to sit next to him. “It's my job to listen. But I don’t get paid to care about you. I care because I want to.”

“Why?” The question falls from his lips seemingly without permission. Regret writes itself all over his face as he twists away from you. There’s no way you can tell what’s going through his head, but you recognize it. The insecurity and self-doubt. It’s familiar to you.

“I don’t need a reason.”

“Well,” his voice dies off, his eyes still focused on the ground beneath his feet. “Maybe I do.”

“I find it hard to believe that you just care outta the goodness of your heart.” Bitterness drips from his tongue, his face twisting into his signature scowl. “That’s some stupid shit Deku would say.”

You wait a second before you respond, letting his words marinate for the both of you. It’s rare that you’re ever really at a loss for words. Rare that you don’t even have something small or encouraging to say. But Bakugo is tough to crack, and when he does, you realize that you are woefully unprepared for it.

“Bakugo-”

“It’s fine,” he mutters, waving a hand in your direction, but still avoiding eye contact. “I’m fine.”

“You wanna know something?” You decide to go the personal route, maybe for him it’ll work.

“Do I gotta choice?” He huffs out, arms crossing over his chest indignantly.

“You always have a choice,” you chuckle through your nose, only continuing when he gives you another half-hearted shrug. “When I was your age I remember how much it sucked. I couldn’t get a handle on my quirk, every day was just another pile of shit I had to jump over, and no one ever took me seriously. Life sucked.”

He doesn’t respond, but he’s listening. “And obviously our lives are nowhere near the same, and I know that all us adults are always spouting the same crap over and over. It gets better. You grow and move on. Life won’t be dictated by who you are as a teenager. Blah blah blah.”

He glances your way, not turning his head but his eyes flicker towards you and it encourages you to keep going. “But in all honesty, life doesn’t just get better unless you want it to. I respect you so much, even if you run away from me every time you see me in the halls.”

“I don’t run away,” he argues, glaring at you.

“Right, you just got better things to do,” you tease, smiling at him with your lips closed, but amused nonetheless.

“Exactly,” he grumbles.

“Seriously, though, if you need me to give you a reason as to why I care. It’s simple. It’s because you care. About becoming a hero. About your friends. And since you care so much, it’s hard for me not to want to care with you.”

Your response settles over him, the chirping of grasshoppers is filling the silence and you gaze up at the twinkling stars against the deep sky. Leave it to Bakugo to find one of the only places in the city with the clearest view of the constellations. It’s almost impossible to see anywhere else because of the light pollution. But here he is, sitting just beneath it as they all wink at you from millions of miles away.

“I still have nightmares.” It’s almost stolen by the sounds of rustling leaves and chirping. He mumbles it into the back of his hand as he wipes at his bottom lip, but when you turn your head to face him, he knows he’s been caught red-handed.

“About that night and being restrained,” he adds, almost unwillingly as he continues to avoid your avid stare. “It’s pathetic, really. Feeling so helpless. Like I’ve worked this hard only to be just as weak as I’ve always been.”

“You’re not, though. You’re anything but weak and going through that experience doesn’t mean that all the progress you’ve made up until now is void.”

“Still, I fucking hate it.” The aggression you're familiar with is trickling back into his voice again. And you’re relieved. The fight is beginning to return back to him and all those weeks of you pleading with him to come in for a session no longer feel pointless. Because this was the moment you were waiting for.

Bakugo throws his hand out towards you suddenly, palm facing towards the sky and you fight the urge to lean away from him. Initially not understanding what he was asking for, but it’s an invitation. One that you’re so shocked he even gave to you.

“Are you sure?” You ask tentatively to make sure you’re not misunderstanding his gesture.

“Yeah,” he replies, arm still outstretched towards you and his fingers flex before he relaxes them. “I just want to remember what it’s like to not always feel this way.”

You take his hand in earnest, feeling his calloused palm press against yours before asking, “And how do you want to feel?”

He finally meets your gaze, eyes hardened with determination. “Like myself again.”

Spending your early mornings drinking your coffee with Koi on the back patio has become routine. And one of the few treasured parts of your day. When you initially packed for this trip you expected the heat to be unbearable, but mornings are always surprisingly so pleasant. You rest your upper body weight against the wooden railing, Koi sitting so properly beside your elbow with his tail swishing contentedly. He’s funny, somehow memorizing your schedule enough to wait patiently by the sliding glass doors every morning for his breakfast. And as you stand and watch the last few traces of the sunrise, he always accompanies you, sometimes nuzzling his little head against your knuckles and purring.

“Hey,” Shouta says from behind you, a fresh mug of coffee in his hand as he stands just before the step to come outside.

“Hey, stranger,” you respond lightly, tossing the greeting over your shoulder as you continue staring at how the sky burns orange against a blue, cloudless backdrop.

“What’re you doing out here?” He asks as he takes that first step forward. Resting his mug along the railing to pet Koi, who is now sniffing his fingers intently.

“Koi and I do this every morning,” you say, staring at how cute the cat is rubbing up against Shouta so aggressively.

“You named him?”

“Course I named him,” you laugh lightly, pulling your robe tighter around you. “I feed him every day so he has to have a name.”

Shouta shakes his head, feigning disapproval as the cat stands on his hind legs and stretches out on his chest. “Koi?” He asks you, eyes sliding over to watch for your answer.

“Yeah.”

“It suits him,” he nods, scratching behind his ear as his purring grows louder.

“I thought so too,” you smile at the pair, scrunching your nose in amusement when he headbutts Shouta to rub against him. The three of you stay like that for some moments. And it’s comfortable, so much so that you almost forget why you’re here in the first place as you watch the sun come up. You both finish your coffees in each other’s presence. The silence that you used to dread with every fiber of your being is somehow different. Still tense and full of words unsaid. But different, and you can’t quite put your finger on why that is.

You don’t want to be the first to leave, not to prove some point, but because you refuse to lose a quiet that for once isn’t riddled with awkwardness.

“Hizashi called.” It’s abrupt. Louder than you think he intended and rushed out. When you look over at him to confirm that the words were actually said from his lips, he’s inhaling deeply. His eyes are closed and his brows are pinched. Almost like he ate something he didn’t like.

“That’s surprising,” you say, treading lightly, the sounds of crunching eggshells already ringing in the distance. “He’s usually not up this early unless he has to be.”

“I don’t think he slept, actually.” He sighs, sounding like he didn’t get any sleep either. He drags a hand down his face, his hair loose from the usual low bun he has it in. And you give him the space to continue if he chooses to. Not wanting to take a mile from the inch he’s given to you.

“Oboro’s anniversary is coming up. Time doesn’t seem to be slowing down for anyone.”His gaze is set on the horizon, his posture rod straight as his thoughts finally travel from his brain to his lips to your ears.

This is the first time he’s mentioned Oboro since the Kurogiri investigation. The nail in the coffin of your marriage that sealed his distance and buried your relationship six feet under. He shut you out after that, snowed himself in with just his grief to keep him company. You thought he just needed time, some space. But time was unforgiving and space forgets nothing.

Your first attempt at shoveling out the snow he hid behind was only met with an icyness that stabbed at you.

More time, you reasoned. More space, you justified. He’d come around soon. Until he didn’t.

“He wants to plan something for it, but I don’t know.” Another drawn out sigh, and his shoulders curve forward as if he’s trying to protect himself from something.

“Well, what do you wanna do?” Your eyes are trained on his every little action, clocking the way he seems to be struggling to open up, actively fighting his urge to close you out again.

“Run away,” he breathes out a cynical laugh through his nose. Shaking his head and grimacing.

“Isn’t that kind of what we did?”

“Mmm,” he hums, gripping the railing in two strong hands until the wood creaks under the pressure. “But everything seems to follow us everywhere, doesn’t it?”

Us. Follow us.

“You know better than I do that there are some things you can’t run away from. Some things that you have to stay back and fight, even if you don’t want to.”

“I can’t do any more funerals.” And really who can? The universe should put a cap on how much tragedy one person can experience in a lifetime. Because no one can carry this around alone, especially if they are unwilling to share that burden with someone else. He doesn’t continue. You don’t blame him either, so you know this is the end of the conversation. No sense in wringing out a dry washcloth.

“Then how about we do homemade pizza?” You redirect the conversation, okay for that one to be over but not yet ready to lose him to the spare room.

“Like-”

“Our second date,” you nod and he visibly relaxes at the memory, petting Koi absentmindedly as he thinks it over. “I can go to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients for dinner.”

“If I’m remembering correctly,” he starts, pausing thoughtfully, “you burned the hell out of that.”

Your jaw drops in offense, your eyes widen as he purposefully keeps his eyes focused elsewhere. “Do you have so little faith in my ability to improve?”

He bites back a small smile, but it peeks through when he sees the look on your face. His features are softened and he looks… relieved. A silent thank you reflects in his irises.

“And also I am not taking all of the blame for that,” you huff out, standing up straight and crossing your arms over your chest. “Because if I can remember correctly, someone set the temperature 50 degrees too high.”

“Sounds like something only an idiot would do,” he teases, smiling broader at you. Your heart does jumping jacks, your stomach somersaulting. This might just work. You and him. Maybe this is fixable, not beyond repair like you were starting to convince yourself it was.

“Just go get the ingredients,” he says softly. “I’ll wait for you.”

There’s flour covering every inch of the marble top island. You’re also covered in a ridiculous amount of it as you knead the fresh pizza dough into a ball. After your conversation this morning, the fog started to clear. And while you couldn’t see him clearly, you could at least make out the shape of him. Not close enough to touch yet, but there regardless.

“This is a disaster.” Shouta walks in from the bedroom, glasses propped on his head to keep his hair from falling in his face. He’s unsure of what to think, funny skepticism written all over his face as he scans the kitchen. The toppings are spread out all over the counter. Too many options, but you wanted to make sure you weren’t missing anything. Not that it matters because Shouta always asks for extra cheese on top of whatever else you add.

“Not a disaster, just a bit of a mess.”

“I can’t see what color the counter top is,” he argues, walking your way and looking closely at how you press your weight into the dough before you start flattening it.

“It’s mostly white, so,” you shrug, pressing your fingers into the dough to help flatten it before grabbing the rolling pin. “You gonna help me or just watch?”

“I prefer watching,” he says without missing a beat, and when you send him a glare he’s smiling before pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. “What do you need?”

“Finish rolling this out for me while I preheat the oven and chop some of the veggies,” you point the pin at him for him to take so you could go wash your hands clean of flour and flakes of dried off dough. The music you have playing low in the background adds a layer of romantic intention that was not purposeful on your part, but is starkly reminiscent of your second date. You try not to overthink it when you go to change the playlist, drying your hand on a washcloth before grabbing your phone to scroll through Spotify. As you go to change the playlist, though, the song ends and blends into the next. Your thumb hovering over the shuffle button when the first few chords of your wedding song starts to fill your kitchen.

Discomfort makes you freeze, and you refuse to look Shouta’s way. This probably seems like you did it on purpose, like you’re trying to send him some message about the two of you and you’re at a loss of what to do. You feel so outside of yourself that you can’t even move.

“I swear I didn’t do that on purpose,” you explain, the need to prove yourself to him is taking over your mouth as the words fly out into his direction.

“The song?” He asks innocently, as if he isn’t having the same existential crisis you are. “It’s the one we danced to at our wedding.”

Casual. Like this alone didn’t set the house on fire and you’re standing in the middle of roaring flames. Which means you’re definitely overthinking it. Unless Shouta is doing what he does best and playing it cool. Perhaps for your sake.

“It’s a good song,” he adds smoothly, and when you chance a look at him over your shoulder he’s already got the dough into a perfect circle. Lithe fingers folding over the edges to make a crust. “I chose it for a reason.”

You remember how nervous you were that day. A small ceremony with the friends you made here and your mom flew out alone just to see you get married. Shouta had bought her a ticket without you knowing. That was his first surprise to you, but the next was this song. You chose almost everything else, but he insisted that he choose the song you danced to. And it wasn’t until he guided you by the hand into the tiny space at the venue to dance that you heard it. A song that you knew well, but the last one you’d ever think he would pick. He wasn’t much of a music listener, he held no strong opinions on it. So of course he went with the one he always heard you humming most Saturday mornings. The song you introduced to him accidentally after your first night together. When he awoke and you were making the two of you breakfast.

“Here.” He interrupts your trek down memory lane, standing directly in your line of sight with a glass half full of red wine. You accept it with slightly trembling fingers, and you hadn’t realized that your palms are sweaty, your vision a bit blurry. “What toppings do you want?”

You blink away the blurriness as you take a too big sip of your wine. He’s still watching you, eyes so obviously trying to read you, but for what? You don’t know. You clear your throat, smiling to hide whatever weird surge of emotion was building up inside of you. “Anything sounds good as long as there’s extra cheese.”

Midoriya sits across from you. On the edge of the sofa with his fingers intertwined and resting on his lap. You meet most weeks with him for an hour, and always in the early morning. He doesn’t need that period in the day to fully wake up. Once he’s awake, his mind is overflowing with thoughts so you find it most beneficial to meet with him right before the school day starts.

He’s still wearing his scarf securely around his neck, the temperature dipping drastically low overnight and you’re glad for the space heater you invested in a few years back. As soon as you came in you turned it on, and it is currently the only sound in the room. A sort of brown noise the muffles around your office as you stare at Midoriya and concern yourself with his uncharacteristic silence. You’ve only exchanged greetings, and that was after he was five minutes late. Which is also unlike him. He’s usually waiting outside your door before you even clock in for the day. But this morning you were exceptionally early. Not having slept at all when Shouta didn’t return to the small room you share.

Maybe the both of you had bad nights then.

“Midoriya.” He flinches. Like he forgot he’s here with you, and not alone in his dorm.

“Sorry.” You don’t understand what for, but when he meets your eyes it's with sincere apology.

“It’s okay.” You say it slowly, with an emphasis in the hopes that he knows that you’re being genuine. That he doesn’t have to worry about saying the wrong things here. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

“Kinda defeats the purpose of a counseling session though?” He’s confused because you’ve never given him this option. The option to sit quietly with each other as he processes his thoughts.

“Not necessarily,” you say, closing the notebook you use to take notes and setting it aside. “If you just need a second to gather your thoughts we can do that. Or if you want to throw out some of the stuff that’s going on we can sort through it together.”

He pulls out his journal at that point, opening it and flipping through it to the last page that has writing on it. It’s one of his hero quirk journals, the most recent volume, you assume. His eyes scan over the page frantically and you realize that this page is dedicated to himself. You heard about the incident at the beginning of the semester during the joint class training session. When another bit of his quirk manifested. You knew he was struggling with controlling it, and that he was frustrated when he couldn’t get a handle on it as quickly as he wanted.

“What’s that?” You ask, leaning forward some to get a better look at what his eyes are staring so hard at.

“It’s uh- it’s a quirk analysis. About my own quirk and I,” he’s pausing, his mind moving far quicker than his mouth. He can’t keep up. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, not really understanding what he means.

“Your quirk. I remember in class once when you were explaining it, that you had a hard time controlling it. That sometimes it felt too big for your body and that every time you learned something new about it, it was like another setback for your progress.”

“Is that how you’re feeling?” You see where he’s coming from now, swiftly identifying the eye of his storm.

“I think so,” he whispers, eyes still looking down at the pen scratches on the page. “I mean my quirk has always been too big for my body, but it’s like every single time I master one thing, another thing pops up and I’m starting to think I’ll never figure it out.”

You nod encouragingly, hoping that he will go on. This is a recurring theme in your sessions. Midoriya has doubts, but he’s too headstrong to quit. Every challenge is conquerable, all problems must have a solution. And that amazes you sometimes, his emotional maturity at a level that most of his peers aren’t on, his assessment skills scary accurate. But on the other hand, he has an odd fixation with having to save everyone. To the point where it can cloud his judgment, where he puts himself in a position that’s too dangerous for him to do alone. He has the will of a thousand soldiers that has gotten him out of trouble until now. But you’re afraid one day that army will dwindle down and he’ll realize that it’s actually just him. An army of one.

“But I know that I have to. I have to figure it out and soon because so much is happening and I can’t be the only one who falls behind. Not when things are only going to get worse.” He rambles, those thoughts spiraling in his head spilling out and you let them crowd the room. Take up the rest of the empty space. “A war is coming. All Might has been out of commission for months now and if I can’t improve what if we lose?”

“Why do you think the battle against the League of Villains hinges on your success? On the mastery of your quirk?”

“Well because,” he hesitates, holding something back. “I made a promise that I intend to keep. I can’t fail.”

You know he’s not lying. Mostly because he’s a bad liar. But he’s keeping something from you and that you’ve always sensed from the beginning. “You won’t fail, but you can’t succeed solely on the intentions of a promise you made. It’s gotta be more than that.”

“Like what then?” His eyes are round, his stance turning defensive and there’s a trace of fear in his voice. “If I lose someone when I know I could’ve saved them, what then?”

It’s a loaded question. One that you have been asking yourself for months now, but not having the heart to actually answer. Because you genuinely don’t know what then? If you lose Shouta because of your own faults or inconsistencies or doubts, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. But you also can’t see a solution.

“You don’t really know if you can save someone until that moment comes. It seems like an unanswerable question.”

“But if I know myself and what I’m capable of, it shouldn’t be. I should have an answer, so why is it keeping me up at night?” He’s pleading, but not with you. He’s annoyed with himself, tears of frustration gathering in his lash line and his hands are balled into angry fists. You rise from your place across from him, rounding the barrier of your coffee table to sit on the cushion next to him.

You also hate that you don’t have an answer for him, knowing that it’s your job to guide him to a resolution on his own, but you’ve hit a wall. His emotions are so strong, so passionate that even without the physical touch you need for the activation of your quirk, you’re overwhelmed by him. So much so that you can hardly keep your composure, his frustration seeping into you and you’re absorbing it like an abandoned sponge.

“We’re only human, Midoriya. We don’t hold the answers to everything, we don’t have the ability to save everyone,” you say gingerly, allowing the words to find their way into each of your resolves.

“We have to try,” he’s facing you, eyes round and bright and with such resounding faith that it stuns you. “It’s the least we can do.”

Sleep comes easier. Welcomes you in its comforting arms without the fear you’re used to. Dinner was wonderful, the wine helping you through it, loosening you up exponentially. The conversation didn’t come like it had before, but it was as close to normal than it has been since you got married. And after polishing off your third glass, you were a giggling mess. God, and it was so nice to just feel like that again. To clean the kitchen together, him drying the dishes as you washed them and then you two tucking yourselves into bed at the same time.

So when you wake up, the room still as dark as it was when you went to bed, you’re confused to find you’re alone. Empty. And you hate yourself for expecting it not to be. Expectations that you said you wouldn’t have anymore. You know you won’t be able to fall back asleep, instead twisting around to find your phone, curious as to what time it is. It’s close to 8am, which doesn’t make sense. One, you slept in later than you usually do, but also it’s so dark you can only make out the outline of the furniture around you. That’s when you notice a weather alert notification. There’s a storm right above you, and not the standard summer thunderstorm. It seems like a tropical storm is heading straight your way, flood and strong wind warnings popping up alongside the other alert. It’s set to arrive within the next few hours, so you get yourself out of bed to prepare for it.

As soon as you step outside you already feel the fierce winds, they’re so strong your clothes are whipping around you, your thin pajamas pressing to your skin as you carry Koi’s breakfast in his little bowl outside. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Fear spikes in your chest, a particularly strong gust of wind snatching the lip of the bowl and forcing you to lose your grip. This can’t just be the beginnings of the storm. You refuse to believe it as thin sheets of rain start to fall. It’s only been an hour since you received that warning and yet the rain is here, the winds are frightening, and Koi is not where he always is.

He’s not waiting for you in front of the glass door, nor is he at the bottom of the patio steps where he sometimes lounges. You’re panicking, your heart in your throat and you’re choking on it. Where could he be in a time like this? You rush down the few steps leading to the beach, your hand gripping at the railing so you don’t lose your balance. The sand sticks to your exposed feet, your eyes scanning the beach as you rush over to the beach grass that has only grown since you arrived.

“Koi!” You scream over the whistling wind, attempting to make kissy noises in order to let him know you’re there. You’re crumbling, somehow this is the last straw for you. You keep screaming for him, yelling his name over and over until your voice feels raw.

“Get inside,” Shouta yells from the top of the steps, you can hardly hear him over the intensity of the rising winds. The waves are crashing harder against the shore and everything is just so loud you can’t even hear yourself think.

“I have to find Koi.” Your voice tremors, lightning cracks in the distance and thunder follows a few seconds later. It’s getting closer and your time is running out.

“You have to come inside, it’s pouring,” he says, descending the stairs two at a time until his feet meet the sand. He doesn’t move closer to you though, he stays a few feet away and it hurts. Even worse than it ever has before seeing him so far away from you. “It’s only going to get worse.”

You feel crazed, your hair flat against your face and neck and your clothes are drenched and see through. Why is he so far away?

“You don’t think I know that!” Your voice comes from the top of your lungs, stealing you of any breath you had left as you shriek at your husband. “Why do you think I’m standing out here trying to get him to come inside?”

“He’s going to be okay.” His reassurance is anything but that. His reassurance is swallowed by the torment of nature and it’s only begun to boil over. The loneliness, the desperation, the fact that he won’t fucking touch you.

“And what if he’s not?” Your voice cracks, your head is full, and you're aching all over. “What if I spent all this time just for nothing to be okay?!”

The step he was in the middle of taking towards you stops. Is that really where his effort ends? Feet away as you’re screeching at him to be near you. “I need you to come inside.”

The waves are more violent than they were before. You’re unsteady where you stand and you don’t know if your brutal onslaught of emotions are to blame or the rain slashing diagonally and shattering your equilibrium. “I need to try. I can’t lose an-,”

Anyone else. Not like you’re losing Shouta. It’s too much.

“Koi!” Your voice is being drowned out by deafening noises. You’ve gotten so used to quiet that you’re overstimulated, your thoughts are fragmented and all over the place. So chaotic that the storm is just the soundtrack to your misery.

“Koi!”

“Get inside the house! You’re being ridiculous!” He snaps, anger evident and there’s two full steps towards you. But you take two away.

“No! I won’t,” you sob, hands coming up to grab at your hair as it clumps together with the water it’s absorbing. “Don’t act like you care about where I am all of a sudden!”

Emotion. Emotion. Stupid fucking emotions curdling like spoiled milk inside of you. Rotten and old and undesirable.

“Are you-?” He cuts himself off, taking two more steps toward you. Another two steps back. “You don’t think I care about you?”

No. You don’t think that. But you feel it sometimes. Feel that sickening feeling slither in every time you wake up alone. Every time you eat dinner by yourself in the dark. Every time you take two steps towards him and he leaves the fucking room.

“You don’t even touch me,” you gasp out, your hands moving to clutch your chest and you try to regain your breathing. “Why?”

Lightning strikes. The sand scatters. And the hair on your arms stands up.

Thunder shakes the ground. The patio wood creaks like it’s about to tear off the side of the house. Too much. And you’re losing all control.

“Because I-,” he’s thinking and he’s hesitating. And you’re so angry. “I can’t.”

“But, why, Shouta? Why can’t you?”

“Because then you’ll know!” He lashes out, arms spread wide and his shirt is soaked through and sticking to him. “You’ll know everything. All the shit I’m not ready to tell anyone because it’s so fucked I don’t even want to deal with it!”

Water is in your eyes, dripping onto your lips. And you faintly taste salt on your tongue.

“And you have this ability to know even the deepest parts of me and that’s terrifying.” The distance is closing at a rapid pace. Your feet are moving and you can’t keep up. Not until feet turn into inches and he’s right in front of you.

“Then turn it off, Shouta,” you’re begging him to give you something. Anything at all. “Turn it off like only you can, please, just-”

You’re shaking, your body freezing because of the rain and the wind and the frigidity of yearning desperation. “Just touch me.”

He reaches for you, his hand hovering over your cheek and you could almost feel it. The warmth of his palm, “you don’t have to be terrified of me.”

His fingers graze your cheek and you close your eyes. Only for it to be ripped away when distressed yowling cuts through everything. You whip your head around and see Koi, tail between his legs and fur so wet it makes him look skinny and underfed. A hysterical laugh of relief releases from your chest and you’re running towards him. You wrap your hands around his little body and he lets you hold him to your chest as you whisper soothing words into his flicking ear.

Shouta’s waiting for you by the steps, right where you left him. “Can we go inside now?”

And you nod, rushing up the steps in quick succession. The ground quakes when thunder rumbles and Shouta is reaching around you to slide the door open for you. It’s even colder inside, the fan dispersing cool air that pricks your wet skin. You release Koi and even though he’s never been inside he darts beneath the dining room table to hide.

The door shuts behind you, the lock clicking into place. The quiet is back. And it’s haunting.

“It never ends. The pain. The thinking. The what ifs. They don’t stop.” He’s filling it with words that you’ve been dying for him to say since the beginning. They’re not nice to hear. But it’s the only way either of you are going to heal. “And I never wanted to burden you with that. You deserve better than this version of me. You deserve more than that.”

“What if that’s not what I want? Did you ever stop and think that I just want you. Whatever version of you that you’ll give me, I’ll have, Shouta.”

He shakes his head like he disagrees. Water taps against the hardwood. Ticking like a metronome.

“But-”

“I love you. I’m in love with you,” you raise your hands up to hover by his cheeks, still not sure if he gives you permission to touch him in the way that you so badly want. “And if you let me in, we don’t have to be these versions of ourselves alone.”

His hands are grasping your wrists in a firm hold. So tightly it nearly hurts, but you are so shocked by the gesture your knees go weak and you gasp. He guides your reaching hands to his face and he presses them onto his cheeks like he depended on it. The breath expelling from his body like he’s been holding it in for centuries.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his lip quivering before he sucks it into his mouth. “I can’t seem to get anything together anymore. I try but I only feel like I’m disappointing you. I’m so tired of disappointing you.”

“It’s okay. I’m here,” you’re saying it to not only convince him but yourself. That this is happening. That you are really touching him, palm to cheek. “I’m sorry. For not fighting for you the way that I should’ve been. For getting in my own way. I’m sorry.”

He’s dropping his forehead to yours, his hands traveling up your wrists to cup where yours are caressing his face.

“We can fix this?” He’s whispering across your lips.

“Yeah,” you give him a watery smile, “we can.”

Sparks are flying behind your eyelids when he kisses you. The house shakes again from another wave of thunder but you can’t even register the ground beneath your feet because he’s kissing you. Kissing you like he needs you, wants you, loves you.

It’s like the first one all over again. The butterflies in your stomach giving the storm outside a run for its money. You can’t breathe, he’s stealing each one greedily for himself, but you can’t stop. Not even when the urge to inhale is making you lightheaded.

He’s walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the arm of the couch and you’re sitting on it. And even then he doesn’t break the kiss. Just as desperate to keep it going as you are. Your hands are still pinned to his cheeks by his large palms. But you pull at them so you can touch him elsewhere, wanting to feel every inch of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He releases them, but only to trail his fingers down your arms and up to your neck. He’s gentle, even though the kiss is so forceful. He’s touching you as if he’s practicing a language he hasn’t spoken in too long. Relearning all of the basics first until he’s confident enough to move forward. He’s writing sentences down your spine, reading your reactions as if he hadn’t known these words all along.

His fingers find the edge of your top, the fabric grossly wet on your sides as he starts pulling the fabric up and over your head. “You’re soaked,” he says aloud, the shirt ten times heavier in his palm.

“Haven’t heard that in a while,” you breathe with a teasing sigh as the shirt makes a thwapping sound onto the floor over his shoulder.

“Funny,” he smirks the tiniest bit, finally pulling back from your lips to admire your naked torso. His fingertips are dancing up your curves, ghosting over the goosebumps he’s lighting your body up with. He stops just below your breasts, your nipples already pebbled from the cold. He looks into your eyes seeking permission. The same permission you’ve already granted him.

“Please don’t stop touching me,” you plead, bracing your hands against his pelvic bone to steady your swaying body. He moves again, this time to cup your breasts in each of his palms and he squeezes. Not too tightly, but enough to have you arching into him and sighing.

You busy yourself with his white t-shirt, slipping your hands beneath it to feel his firm abdomen against your hands and gathering the wet fabric on your wrists. You almost forgot how perfect he felt beneath your hands. Almost forgot that he seemed to be carved out just for you to explore. You can tell he’s trying to be patient with you, but you’ve spent months holding back and your patience has long ago thinned into nothing. You use some of your strength to push him away to give you enough room to stand. You’re tugging his shirt over his head as he protests with a laugh, but you can’t stop yourself. Too eager to control much of your actions as you undress him.

“Hold on,” he’s grabbing your wrists again to stop you from pulling down the waistband of his pants. “Let me do it.”

“You’re taking too long,” you admit, realizing that your breathing is ragged and your vision tunneled.

“Am I?” He asks, voice dipping into amused condescension.

“Yes,” you say with finality, your hands still restricted by his.

“Fine.” And he’s lifting you by the back of your thighs and dropping you onto the couch cushions. Shouta grips your drenched shorts and pulls them down your legs and you’re now completely naked before him, legs parted and more vulnerable than you’ve been in forever. His fingers are slow again when they map their way across your body. Intent on making you squirm.

You’re dying to rush him, to hurry this along in some capacity. But you don’t because this feels too good to let go to waste. Your eyes flutter closed and you imagine each of his touches like a burst of neon color in the dark. His fingers are on your inner thighs now, and you almost close them around his hand. An odd shyness coming over you. You expect his fingers to continue their route to your core. You’re already prepared to feel the roughness of his fingertips part your folds, but instead what you feel isn’t rough or dry. But soft and wet.

“Oh,” you gasp as your eyes shoot open. His head is between your thighs, and his eyes are now closed as a groan rumbles through his chest and straight against you. “Fuck.”

His tongue works through you, licking and tasting and appreciating. He’s so focused, but not on the building pleasure in your body. He’s selfishly taking, ripping whines from your mouth and exchanging them for moans of his own. Your hands find their way into his hair and you tug him closer to you. His mouth is enveloping you, and when his lips find your clit he’s sucking it into his mouth with urgency.

It’s been too long without having him this way. So long that your abdomen is tensing and your legs are tightening around his head. He doesn’t stop sucking and licking and moaning. The vibrations staggering up to your head and sending you into a lust-fueled spiral. You roll your hips down against his face, hard and stuttering. Your head falls back against the couch with a soft thud and you whimper when he flattens his tongue and allows you to use him.

You’re kissing the cusp of your release, toeing the tightrope of your orgasm. “Shouta, m’gonna-”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your grip tightens in his hair. You don’t want to, though. Not yet. You want to be full when you do. You want to draw out this pleasurable in between space for as long as you possibly can. “St-stop,” you almost regret it when he pulls away immediately. His eyes full of concern as he stares up at you.

“Are you okay?” He’s rising to his knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your thighs as you yearn for the edge of the cliff you were just about to fall off of.

“Yes, I’m okay,” you say, breathless and needy. “I just want to feel you.”

You shove him lightly, rearranging your bodies so that he’s sitting down and you’re straddling his hips. He lifts them to push down his sweats, struggling when they cling to his legs, but settling once they fall around his ankles. You grab his cock in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft as you pump him a few times. His head is bright red, precum smeared across the tip and glistening in the fractures of grey light filtering in from the curtains.

His head rests on the back of the couch, his cheeks red from arousal and he's holding your hips in a vice grip. His moans are caught in his throat and his eyes are open just enough to watch you line him up with your entrance. You want him, but this feels somewhat new. Like you’re starting over from the beginning. Fresh and new and expectant.

You sink onto him, shuddering at the burning stretch he’s causing. There’s a pause halfway down, a moment for you to adjust and he’s squeezing your hips tighter. His nails digging into your skin and almost piercing flesh.

“God, I missed you,” he says through clenched teeth, shallowly thrusting upwards until you place your hands on his chest to keep you from falling into him. You drop down suddenly, taking all of him inside of you in one go. “Holy shit,” his voice is gravelly and hoarse. And you thought you were close before, but you’re face to face with an intense pleasure now that you’re afraid might be too strong. Too big. Too consuming.

“Shouta.” It’s broken and needy, and your hips grind down when the sticky clinginess of your tone echoes.

“Don’t say my name like that or I won’t last,” he whispers. And it sounds so dirty. So filthy that when your clit catches the hair at the bottom of his shaft it throbs deep in your belly. You’re bouncing in his lap, leaning forward so you’re chest to chest and breathing in the air that he releases in heavy puffs. It’s not real, this tormenting lust and unwavering love. It’s hard to believe that this is real and that your husband is in your arms.

One of his hands rises to the back of your neck, cradling it as his fingers wrap around to apply pressure to your pulse points. Your head is fuzzy, your limbs filling with white noise as you continue fucking yourself on his cock.

“Do me a favor.” It’s not much of a suggestion, there’s very little room for choice in his statement as he squeezes his hand again and he groans roughly when you clench around him in response.

“W-what?” You stutter, hands now holding onto his broad shoulders for stability as you wait for what he needs. Ready to give him– mind, body, and soul– whatever he asks for. “Come.”

Your vision whites out, ears narrowing in on the command, and you couldn’t refuse him even if it was the only thing you wanted to do. You shatter. The pieces of your physical consciousness dispersing into dust around the two of you as you do exactly as he says. You fall forward, no longer able to hold yourself up. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent through sighs of satisfaction.

Your walls pulse around him as he starts thrusting to make up for you. They’re short and harsh and you wrap your arms around his neck to keep from jostling around too much. He’s close enough for you to feel it. His dick kicks inside of you when you clamp down especially tight. “Shit,” he hisses out, hugging you against him when he comes. Both of his strong arms around your waist and your senses are saturated in his smell and build. If this is where you could choose to be for a lifetime, including all the moments that have culminated until now. You’d choose it a million times over.

His fingers trace your spine again, drawing tiny figures down each vertebrae. There’s the sneaking silence that seems to always wiggle its way into your relationship tickling the edges of your moment. But it’s not like the others. It’s not intrusive or unwanted. It’s like a warm blanket, thick and cozy and familiar.

“You wanna take a bath?” You say into his neck, your lips brushing the sensitive skin of his collarbone and he shivers.

“I’d like that,” he replies, hands dragging down your sides in an intimate embrace. You sit up, body sluggish and heavy. There’s an odd soreness in your hips that you like, a pleasing ache in your bones that only serves as a reminder of what you’d done together. He helps you up when he sees the little grimace on your face. Kisses your jaw when you flinch as he pulls out. “Come on then.”

He’s settling you onto your feet, using the leverage he has on your thighs to follow you. The storm is still monstrous outside, the house built to withstand weather like this. The foundation is solid. Built on healthy ground and rooted into place. When you enter the bathroom, you flick the light switch on, but nothing happens. The bathroom remains dark, only lit up by the window beside the porcelain tub.

“Seems like the lights went out,” you say, heading towards the bath to twist the nozzle onto its hottest temperature. The water fills it in a thick stream, steam quickly curling around the metal faucet.

“I’ll be back,” Shouta says, and before you could ask where he’s off to, he’s already gone. You twist the other nozzle to cool down the too hot water. Warmth meeting your fingertips as you sway them in the water. You’re more relaxed than you have been in ages. Your shoulders are not as heavy, and the cracks in your heart seem to be mending, even if bruises still remain.

“Here,” he interrupts, arms full of every candle he could find and a lighter dangling between two fingers.

“Where’d you get those from?” You laugh, standing up to grab some of the candles from his hold and placing them along the windowsill.

“In the guest bathroom,” he smiles, setting the rest on the counter top as he lights them one at a time. You stare at his reflection in the mirror, his hair is partially dry but frizzing in the places that were rubbing against the texture of the sofa. The facial hair that he’s prone to keeping closely cropped to his face is a bit grown out now. And you can’t stop yourself from appreciating him until you glance at the tub and notice that the water is dangerously close to the edge. You hurry to shut it off, the water hot but not unbearable.

You stand beside it to wait for him, eyes never leaving his form as he comes your way to light the other candles. When he’s done he rests the lighter on the windowsill beside the last candle. And when he faces you, it’s with teasing amusement. “Are you gonna get in?”

“After you.” You gesture to the tub invitingly with a smile. His expression turns suspicious but he steps over the lip of the tub anyway, eyes on yours and with trained agility. He melts into the water with a low groan, and it’s safe to assume that the temperature is just right. He scoots all the way to make room for you in front of him, but you shake your head no. Instead you tap on his shoulder and urge him forward with tender hands. He’s confused, but follows your lead.

The water is really nice, the soreness in your muscles soothed almost upon impact as you slip in behind Shouta and frame your legs on either side of him. You cup some water in your hands to rewet his hair, wracking your fingers through it to get out any tangles that developed. The yellow glow of the tiny fires create dancing shadows around the bathroom, basking him in a pretty orange. You get him to recline into your arms, sliding his body low enough so that his head rests right on the curve beneath your shoulder.

This is one of those moments forever is always talking about. One that supersedes the concept of time and hangs it there until you’re ready to snatch it up and store it in your memory bank. Somehow, your breathing patterns have synced up and you cuddle him into you with such force you’re convinced he’d disappear. He wheezes out a chuckle when your hands press into his sternum and hug him tighter. A subtle sign to loosen your grip.

“I don’t know where to start.” His hands are back on your thigh, closing them around his torso as he speaks. His fingers are kneading the fat there as he thinks.

“What do you mean?” You drag your nails softly though his chest hair, hoping it serves as wordless encouragement.

“I mean,” he pauses, finger still massaging you, “there’s so much I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to.”

“You could start at the beginning.” You sketch little figure eights as you speak, his body dissolving even more into your embrace. His weight should be too much for you, but you’re positive that you could crawl inside of him and still feel like it wasn’t close enough.

“That’s the problem,” he mutters, head lulling to the side so that his ear is flat against your heartbeat. “Which one?”

Your hand stops what it’s doing, instead you open your hand, palm down as you find his heartbeat. You don’t need your quirk to understand his feelings. You don’t need to rely on it to trust that he will tell you everything that he wants in due time. You rest your cheek gingerly on the top of his head, counting each of his heartbeats and catching them in your hand. You’ll cherish each one. Keep them tucked away safely in a lock only he has the key to, and giving them back to him every time he needs it. To remind him that even when he’s not committed to himself. You always will be.

“Well,” you kiss the top of his head, “we have the rest of our lives, so start at the beginning of yours.”

#mybigbangacademia #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa fanfic #shouta aizawa angst #shouta aizawa smut #bnha fanfic #bnha smut #kari’s writing🔆

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goldenhypen · 3 years

Text

there for you — park sunghoon ❣︎

pairing. idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. while sunghoon pursued his dream of becoming a k-pop idol, he missed his chance at making you his as sunghoon’s old friend, pursued you instead, and in doing so, you eventually became pregnant. because of certain matters, you broke up with him, and sunghoon took that as an opportunity to finally make you his, and he was successful. let’s just say, your little baby boy got really lucky at scoring a really amazing dad, even if they weren’t blood-related.

genre. fluff, slight angst, dad!au, domestic!au, established relationship!au, timeskip!au // warnings. mentions of an unhealthy relationship and breakup (if that counts?), mentions of being in a hospital // wc. 1.4k // requested

a/n. i didn’t get the chance to proofread this because something came up, but for the most part, it should be ok hopefully lol. idk how i feel about this one bc i wrote it in a different style than usual, but lmk what you guys think! 🥺💗

you and sunghoon were barely at the age of five when you first met, that initial encounter being when you two were just in kindergarten. and being the young children you were, in a class full of so many people, you didn’t get close until a few years later as you continued to go to school together until graduation. inevitably after eventually becoming your best friend, sunghoon developed a small crush on you in the earlier years of your friendship, and his feelings for you only grew over time.

you on the other hand, ended up growing your own little crush on another boy, who was actually a close friend of sunghoon’s at the time, woohyuk.

and a few years after you three graduated highschool, sunghoon and woohyuk drifted apart, but you still kept in touch with both of them.

sunghoon ended up achieving his dream of becoming a k-pop idol, and woohyuk actually ended up asking you to be his girlfriend one day. of course, you said yes after being essentially obsessed with the boy for years.

still being your best friend, you gushed to sunghoon and told him every story about your days with your new boyfriend. though sunghoon didn’t show it, this made him incredibly sad inside. his heart would clench and shatter with every word you spoke of woohyuk. he knew he should be happy for you, but he couldn’t help but be somewhat jealous. but why should he be when you weren’t even his? he lost his chance, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. in addition, he also lived the hectic life of an idol.

after about a year of dating woohyuk, you found out you were pregnant. you were extremely excited about the news, but he, on the other hand, was not happy about it at all, and this caused many arguments between the two of you. in addition to that, woohyuk also despised the fact that you still talked to sunghoon and were so close with him. it wasn't necessarily that he was jealous; he just didn’t trust you.

after much consideration, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you knew it wouldn’t be healthy to stay with him. so you broke up with woohyuk. you were two months pregnant at the time.

this, of course, was extremely difficult to process and go through, and you ended up going to sunghoon, being someone you went to whenever faced with situations like this. despite sunghoon having a lot on his plate, he was always there for you, happy to listen.

one day while you were on the couch in sunghoon’s arms, crying into his chest, he was whispering comforting words and affirmations to you. after your sobs had somewhat calmed, you lifted your head, not realising how close your faces would be, but neither of you made an effort to move away. instead, your eyes travelled to the other’s lips, heads being drawn towards one another, and your lips quickly met in the middle.

you can clearly recall how soft his lips were and how right it felt being under his touch. the kiss was filled with love, desperation and passion; it was a moment sunghoon had waited for for almost his entire life.

soon after this, sunghoon was proud to finally be able to call you his.

to your pleasant surprise, sunghoon actually took the news of your pregnancy very well. and despite his busy life as an idol, he did an incredible job at taking care of you throughout almost every part of your first pregnancy journey. he found ways to balance his work life with his personal life, and soon, you two were able to find yourselves more established. he was there for you whenever he could be and so were the members, and for the most part, sunghoon was fine with that because he actually trusted you, unlike your ex did. the members were all very happy for you and were excited to be uncles, even if none of them were at all blood-related.

— ⋅ ⬖ ⋅ —

there were many times where you would have a sudden strong urge for hamburgers, and several of those moments happened to be in the middle of the night.

unable to go and buy or make one yourself due to the aching pain throughout your body and just feeling tired overall, you would wake sunghoon up to get one for you. and of course, it being the middle of the night while he was sleeping, sometimes he wouldn’t always feel like going out to buy one for you either. so he would call the members, since they offered their help whenever you needed it. however, they were quick to regret offering as they didn’t enjoy being disturbed during their beauty sleep much either, to say the least. one way or another though, you always got your burger, since there were eight possible people, including yourself, who would get it for you.

— ⋅ ⬖ ⋅ —

one of your favourite parts about the pregnancy was the fact that you got to create, design and decorate the nursery. sunghoon didn’t enjoy it as much as you did, but he was still incredibly helpful around the house and in building and assembling the small pieces of furniture for the tiny room.

you also decided to paint the nursery room, and one time as you were, when sunghoon was taking a break from assembling the crib, he came behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso in a warm back hug. he rested his head on your shoulder and left soft kisses on your neck.

— ⋅ ⬖ ⋅ —

the remainder of your pregnancy flew by much faster than you had anticipated, and so before you knew it, you were in the hospital, in labour.

sunghoon got off work immediately and cleared everything in his schedule to be with you.

he was there for you as you laid in the hospital bed in pain. he held your hand as you grasped his. he left dozens of kisses on our forehead in attempts to bring you at least some form of comfort in your time of agony. he hated seeing you in this painful state, but it was worth it, because minutes later, your baby son was born.

it was an emotional, but joy-filled day.

you held your baby in your arms and got to hear his little voice for the first time. sunghoon also carried your baby boy, a giant smile on your boyfriend’s face the entire time, tears brimming his eyes.

during this time, he was also mistaken as the father many times, but he didn’t mind it at all, as the thought of your baby being his filled his heart.

as your son began to grow up, at first, sunghoon wasn’t extremely skilled at taking care of him. and there were many frustrating moments when he wasn’t able to do something right, as this was his first time being a dad. but you two both learned together, eventually making incredible parents.

your son grew so close to sunghoon, it was like he was his own son, and even at the thought, you wanted to cry out of happiness.

sometimes you wished you had never previously gotten together with your ex; sunghoon was in front of you the whole time, but you were blinded by woohyuk. however, if it wasn’t for either of them, your son would have never been brought to this world. so you learned to be grateful for all the events that had happened in your life.

— ⋅ ⬖ ⋅ —

whenever sunghoon was reminded that your baby boy wasn't his, it broke his heart. however, not being blood-related didn’t stop him from being family.

but he wanted to be as much a part of your family as he could get, so eventually, sunghoon proposed to you, and without hesitation, you accepted.

even though you weren’t with sunghoon back then, you were grateful that you had him. he was always like family to you, but now, he was a different level of family, something you would have never imagined growing up, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

sunghoon was going to be your husband, and in the near future, you were going to grow your small family into one bigger and even more fulfilling, you and sunghoon having a family of your own together.

a/n. this was an extended version of my single mom headcanon that you can find here! p.s,,, i hope you have a lovely day today! <3

taglist (open). @rein-deer-stuffs @herasalvatore @enhasfever @heelariously @en-ternity @mika-monalisa @jungwoniics @all4haru @aleinasstuff @hopelessrthym @wanlore @ddeonubaby @sheepgardenenha @jungwonseyebrowsonflick @strqyverse @clarakyunisageek @liliansun @02liz @niikipuff @squiishymeow @wccycc @w3bqrl @luvvwonie @linoragi @miminyuu @peridaunt @ja4hyvn @enhacolor @changmin-wrlds [bold could not be tagged]

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Note

Heyo! I'm a REALLY REALLY REALLY! Big fan of angst and your works, so I have a suggestion! So like, in this au Bakugou and Y/N are aged up and they have a daughter (let's just say her name is either Katsumi or Kirumi). So, the child is 4 years old and she didn't get her quirk yet. Let's just say Bakugou got drunk when his friends dragged him to a bar and this woman decided to hit him up and let's just say he cheated- so Y/N found out because kiri just had to tell her because it wasn't manly at all for him to keep a secret and Y/N left him with his child and boom! Bad ending. Please tag me in this one tyy!

Bet.

(Changed it up the slightest bit to make Katsumi remember bc I kinda wanna do a part 2 for this)

Nobody to Blame but Yourself - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, cheating, alcohol consumption

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

You have a small, beautiful family. Your loving husband, Katsuki and your adorable daughter, 5 year old Katsumi.

Katsumi was your precious baby girl. She had Katsuki’s ash blonde hair with your silky smooth hair texture. She had your E/C eyes and Katsuki’s porcelain skin. She had Katsuki’s bravery and boldness along with your kindness and compassion. She was a perfect mix of you both.

Y/N and Katsuki have been together ever since their childhood. Their families were close and they grew up together. Katsuki always swore to protect his princess. They got together in their junior year and about 5 years after they graduated from UA high, Katsuki proposed.

—

“Be back soon, okay Suki?” You sweetly said to your husband as he got closer to the door. He pulled you in with a smile and pecked your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah Teddy Bear. I’ll probably be back sooner than you think, don’t even wanna go with those losers.” He complained with a strained face. You giggled at his expression and went on.

“Those losers have been your best friends since high school. You love them. You know you do,” you teased. “Besides, you haven’t spent some time with them in forever.”

“Yeah Y/N. I’m a husband and a dad. I don’t need to be around my friends, I need to be with my family.” He exclaimed with a playful voice.

“Well your family will still be here when you get back. Just as long as you always come back to us too.” You said with a wink.

“Always will Teddy Bear.” He said holding you tight. He held you close until you both heard the little pitter patter of feet running to the front door. You both looked down and saw your daughter in her pjs and watched as she jumped onto Katsuki.

“Be back soon daddy!” She said with a squeal. Katsumi was definitely a daddy’s girl. Her and her father were attached at the hip the second she was born. They were best friends and you loved their father-daughter dynamic.

“Katsumi, you’re supposed to be sleeping, love.” You said with a chuckled as you held her tiny hand while Katsuki picked her up in his arms.

“I wanted to say bye to daddy before he went to see uncle Kiri! And uncle Denki and uncle Sero and Auntie Mina!” She said and watched as you and Bakugou lip synced to her voice as she said the Bakusquad’s names. She laughed at her parent’s teasing as Katsuki assaulted her in kisses.

“That’s sweet baby bear. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. So get to bed you brat,” Bakugou said as he placed his daughter down and ruffled her hair. Others would look down on the rough treatment but you knew Katsumi never took it seriously. She always laughed and played back with Katsuki whenever he put on his ‘mean guy act.’

“M’kay.” Katsuki bent down to kiss her cheek and you followed doing the same action before Katsumi ran back off to her room. You and Katsuki said bye to each other after Katsuki gave you a loving kiss. He walked out the door to meet with his friends as he knew he was in for a long night.

It would soon shock him to see how true that statement would be.

—

The night was going well. Katsuki left around 8:30 and he said he would be back sooner than you thought so considering he was now a family man, you thought he’d be back by midnight. However, you woke up in the middle of the night and saw it was 3 in the morning...and he still wasn’t home. You were starting to get worried now.

If this was back in your earlier years of marriage, you’d say this was okay. Not great but okay, except now, Katsuki has responsibilities and promises that he vowed to keep. He should’ve been home a long time ago. Where was he? You stayed up deciding to sit and wait for him to come home and after almost 2 hours, your phone rang.

You picked it up quickly with a little bit of fear and anger sitting in your stomach. You didn’t even bother to check who it was so when you heard the voice of your husband’s best friend instead of Katsuki, you grew concerned.

“Katsuki! Where are you?!” You asked with worry as you slightly shouted into the phone.

“Hey Y/N..... It’s Kirishima. Umm...I have something to tell you.” He said with sadness detected in his voice.

“Kiri? Is everything alright? Wheres Katsuki?” You asked.

“I’m so sorry Y/N...”

Listening to the red head’s voice made your eyes pop. Your body trembled and tears began to pool in your eyes as you shook your head in denial. Katsuki loved you. You both had a daughter! A family! He would never....he wouldn’t....right? After talking to your friend for some time and getting the crucial information you needed, you made up your mind on what you had to do.

“T-Thank you, Kirishima. Goodnight.” You said into the phone with a hiccup.

“I’m sorry Y/N. You don’t deserve this. You and Katsumi....goodnight.” He said and hung up the phone. You placed it down and sat in silence for a moment. After about a minute, you broke down again and cried into your hands. You sobbed as tears flowed down your cheeks. Rivers of heartbreak and anger streamed down your face as you cried the night away.

Well..you couldn’t cry all night. Katsuki would probably be back in the morning and you had plans. You’d have to save your tears for later. You looked at the time.

4:18 a.m.

You set your alarm for 6 and went back to bed. The whole night, all you could think about was your precious baby girl. This was going to break her little heart. Instead of crying over your husband’s betrayal, you wept for your daughter’s future without her best friend. Eventually you cried yourself to sleep and the sun rose in time.

—

10:00 a.m

Katsuki opened his eyes to the alarm on the nightstand. He yawned a bit before adjusting his eyes to morning light. The more he looked at the stand, the more he realized he didn’t recognize it. Nor the alarm clock. He looked around and noticed he wasn’t in his bedroom. Katsuki shot up and sat on the bed and looked down to notice he was completely undressed. He looked to the side and saw some random woman. A complete stranger who was also naked in bed with him. His heart grew rapid as his eyes grew frantic.

“No, no, no, no, no, no this can’t be happening..this can’t be happening!” Katsuki said as his hands found way to his hair as he tugged on the blonde locks. The woman next to him awoken to his shuffling and smiled up at him. She placed her hand on his bare chest and cuddled in close to him as she sighed in content.

“G’morning handsome. Had a fun night?” She teased, reminding him of his affair and unloyal actions.

“Get the fuck off me!” He said as he jumped out of bed and found his pants. He pulled them on and continued to scream. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! The hell did you do to me you fucking slut?”

“What’re you talking about? And who the fuck are you calling a slut?” The woman said with sass.

“Just tell me where I am!” Katsuki demanded.

“A hotel! You know, the hotel you dragged me to so you could get your dick wet.” She said as she sat up from the bed but still covered herself with the blanket.

“Why the fuck would I do that?!” He screamed.

“You tell me. All I know is that I saw you in that bar, you drank a hell of a lot with your friends, I came up to you and flirted with you, you flirted back, we shared a few more drinks, and you dragged me here. I mean, I consented of course but still.” The stranger explained. Bakugou shook as he looked around in a frenzy. “Anyway, round 2?”

“You fucking bitch, I have a wife!” He screamed at her as he got himself dressed.

“Heh, wow. Well when your wife leaves you after she finds out you cheated, give me a call.” The woman said as she layed back down on the bed. Katsuki seethed at her as he squinted his eyes in disgust.

“You shameless slut. Like hell I will! And Y/N’s not gonna leave me! She loves me! And I love her-“

“Sure didn’t seem like it last night~” the woman said. Bakugou had enough and blasted the bed she was on with his quirk before cussing her out and leaving her there. He quickly ran out the hotel and found his car. He hopped inside and started it as he quickly sped off home.

“Shit!” Bakugou screamed at himself. How could he do that?! How could he cheat on you?! You were his everything! You and Katsumi! His two girls were his entire world! And he betrayed the both of you by doing this. He could only hope that you wouldn’t find out. He can’t tell you what he did. He would lose you! He can’t lost you! This whole thing just has to pass over and things will be fine. Right? Well something didn’t sit right with him as he inched closer and closer to his house.

—

When the 6 o’clock alarm rang, you woke up, ready for the day to begin and the drama to unfold. You were quick to get yourself ready. Brush your teeth, shower, get dressed, a little makeup, and you packed your important belongings and your clothes. Everything else would be replaceable. You put on a pair of shoes and put the rest in the large suitcase you had.

You made a quick call to Mina, assuming she already knew what happened. You asked if you could drop Katsumi off for some time and she of course said yes. After saying ‘thank you,’ you brought all your bags into your car and went back inside to get your daughter.

You walked into your daughter’s bedroom to see her sleeping peacefully. Next to her bed, a framed picture of your once happy family. It was Katsumi’s 4th birthday and she didn’t want to spend it with anybody else except for Mommy and Daddy. Now, you were gonna have to take someone out the picture. You shook your daughter awake and watched as she opened her beautiful E/C eyes that resembled your own.

“Katsumi..hey baby, wake up.” You softly said with a reassuring smile to not alarm her. You watched as she rubbed her eyes with her tiny fist and looked up at you.

“Mommy? What’s going on?” She asked as she looked around in a daze.

“You’re gonna have a little play date at Auntie Mina and Uncle Kiri’s house. Uncle Denki and Uncle Sero will be there too! You excited?” You asked with enthusiasm to hide your pain.

“Really Mommy?!” Your daughter asked with excitement.

“Mhm! Get ready and get dressed for Mommy. They’ll be here at 8, okay?” You said rubbing your daughter’s back before she quickly jumped out of bed and into her own bathroom.

“Okay Mommy!” She said as she ran into the bathroom, turning on the sink to begin her morning routine. Some time passed and Katsumi got dressed and you went back in her room to help her dry her hair. You helped her put on her shoes and by the time they were on, Mina and Kiri were already at the door.

You opened it with a soft smile and the couple looked at you with supportive, sad eyes. “Hey guys..”

“It’s okay to be sad Y/N, we’re here for you.” Mina said. Your eyes teared up at her words but you shook your head and gave her a hug.

“Thank you, but I promise myself I wouldn’t cry. At least, not when Katsumi’s around. I gotta be strong for her. Her whole life’s about to change after all.” You sadly said as you looked down and released your hold on Mina. Your pink friend nodded before walking into the house to find Katsumi in her bedroom. You and Kirishima stayed at the door and talked a bit more.

“I’m so sorry for all of this Y/N. I should’ve been watching him more.” Kirishima said as he looked down in sorrow.

“Kiri, you shouldn’t have to watch him. He cheated and that was his choice. Your choice was being a true friend and telling me. A true man,” you joked. You both gave a little bittersweet laugh before calming down again. “Thank you so much Kirishima.”

The red head did nothing but pull you in for a tight hug. You almost cried on his shoulder before your daughter came to the both of you. “Uncle Kiri!”

You both separated and looked down at the excited 5 year old. She jumped onto her uncle and he happily held her in his arms. “Hey squirt. Ready for a day full of fun?”

“Mhm!” Katsumi replied. You all talked some more before Katsumi said her goodbye to you and went off with Kirishima and Mina. You shut the door and took a break as you allowed a few silent tears to drop. You wiped them away and went to pack your daughter’s bags. Just a few more hours and he’d be home..probably. All you knew was that you’d have to face him eventually.

Finally, you finished packing your daughter’s things and placed them in your car. You put on a jacket and waited for Katsuki to walk through the doors. Soon, this perfect little family would go crumbling to the ground.

—

Katsuki pulled into his driveway and his eyes took notice of your car still there. He smiled at the sight and quickly got out of the car. He slammed the vehicle door shut and ran to the entrance. He unlocked the door in a rush and to say he was happy to see you on the couch, still there, was an understatement.

“Y/N! Hey Teddy Bear! I am so sorry!” He said as he ran to you and sat down next to you on the couch, pulling you in for a tight hug. He was too happy to even notice your jacket and shoes that you wore.

“Katsuki, you were gone all night. Where were you?” You said in a soft voice as you placed your hand on his chest so you could face him.

“I-..I overdid it and spent the night at Kirishima’s. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, love. I was passed out the whole night.” He said and attempted to pull you in again but you pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. You couldn’t believe he was going to lie to you. Actually, now that you think about it, cheating wasn’t below him so why would lying be either?

“So why didn’t Kirishima call me? Or Mina?” You questioned. Unfortunately, you underestimated Katsuki’s quick tongue. He was a good liar, and if you hadn’t already known the truth, you’d probably believe him.

“Shitty hair’s phone died and Alien girl was asleep by the time we got back. By the time he put me in the guest bed, I knocked out so don’t asked me what happened after.” He said. Your anger and fury grew at his lies but he didn’t notice. “Look, I’m so sorry I came back so late but I can make it up to you Teddy Bear. Now would you just give me a hu-“

“SHUT! UP!” You screamed as you pushed him off of you. You stood up from the couch and Bakugou watched you in “confusion.” Bakugou felt his heart racing as he had a guess at why you were so mad but he refused to believe it.

“T-Teddy Bear, whats wrong?” He asked with shaky hands as he tried to reach out to you but you dodged all his attempts.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! You’re fucking lying to me! You’re lying to me after doing what you did! Katsuki, are you just gonna act like you don’t know what you did?! Because I know! So why don’t you?!” You screamed at him. Bakugou still couldn’t believe you knew so he tried his soft attempts once more and reached out to you again.

“Baby, please calm dow-“

“Are you fucking serious Katsuki? You’re gonna tell me to calm down?!” You laughed out in disbelief. You watched as Katsuki’s lip began to tremble and he looked down in shame. “Say it.”

“What?” He spoke softly.

“Say what you did.”

“......”

“Say it Katsuki! Tell me what you did and how you betrayed not only me but your daughter too.” You specified. It took Bakugou a second before he spoke up in a soft, quiet voice.

“I cheated on you...”

“Louder.”

“I cheated on you!” He said while standing up and facing you with tears in his eyes. “I cheated on you! Okay?! I got drunk last night and slept with someone else but baby I swear I didn’t mean it!” He said as he walked to you and tried to hold you. You once again pushed his hands away before speaking back.

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not Katsuki! You still did it!” Your voice grew dry as it began to break. Your eyes pooled with tears as you continued. “I would’ve NEVER done that to you. I wouldn’t even be CAPABLE of doing that to you Katsuki! Because I love you!”

“I love you Y/N! I swear I do!” He fought back but you retaliated.

“It doesn’t seem like it! Because you slept with someone else! You promised me you would never hurt me. You promised you would always protect me. You promised me that you loved me and only me! Not only that but you promised your daughter that you would never bring harm to her! Guess what?! You’re the reason her whole life is going to be so fucked Katsuki! Do you realize that?!” You screamed at him.

“I do, Teddy Bear, I do!” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that Katsuki!” You said with an exasperated voice. Bakugou shook his head as he walked to you and kneeled infront of you.

“Baby, please! I’m sorry! I was drunk, it didn’t mean anything! It was a mistake but if we can forget about this I promise I’ll make it up to you!” He begged.

“Forget? Forget?! Are you insane?! I’m never gonna be able to forget any of this Katsuki. How the hell am I supposed to forget that my first friend, my first love, my first kiss, my first everything betrayed me like this! How am I supposed to forget that my husband, who I’ve known since we were fucking babies, cheated on me?! Tell me!” You said as the tears finally fell.

“I don’t know...I don’t know but I promise I can make it up to you! So please forgive me! Please stay!” He pleaded. The whole time he couldn’t let go of you. Every time you pushed him off, he just came right back.

“How am I supposed to trust that you’ll actually keep that promise?” You said softly with a sad voice. “If it wasn’t clear already, I’m not staying. We’re getting a divorce, Katsuki.”

Bakugou felt his heart shatter. He looked at you with his trembling body and shaky irises. “W-What?”

“Katsuki...you cheated. There’s no other way around it. No explanations or excuses. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because I’ve been blackout drunk before too and the idea of cheating on you never even crossed my mind. You have nobody to blame but yourself.” You said with a broken voice and a shrug. “We’re getting a divorce and I’m taking Katsumi with me.” You said and began to walk to the door.

Bakugou couldn’t believe what he just heard and so he got up from his knees and ran after you. He ran in front of you and held you by the shoulders. “What?! No! Baby!! Please, that’s my daughter! You can’t just take her from me, please!”

“I won’t be taking her from you,” you said and pushed his hands off your shoulders. “We can co-parent, but when she’s old enough, when Katsumi asks why we’re no longer together, I’ll be telling her the truth. So you can still see her, but when she’s ready to know, if she decides she hates you and doesn’t want to see you ever again, then you’ll have to accept it.”

At this point, Katsuki began to openly cry as he allowed his fat tears to flow down his face. Hiccups left his mouth as he shamelessly sobbed infront of you. “Y-Y/N....please don’t go. You guys are my family, you’re both my entire world..I-I love you both so much,” he said and went in to grab your hand, which you allowed. “I know I hurt you both a-and I know I fucked up, but please just give me another chance. I swear this was just a mistake, I never meant to do it. Please stay...please let me fix my mistake. I love you.”

Tears once again filled your eyes but you didn’t allow them to flow. “.....I love you too Katsuki,” at those words, Bakugou felt a bit of hope. “But I just can’t stay with you. If it was just me..I probably would give you another chance..but Katsumi is your daughter Katsuki. She’s your own flesh and blood and you betrayed her. You’re supposed to be her hero and you betrayed her like this. I just can’t trust the fact that you won’t do something like this again, and not just for my sake but for our daughter’s too. I’m sorry, but this is where we end.”

Once you said that you walked away from Bakugou, leaving him in shock. He stood there, regretting everything. Not just his mistake, but all the times where he could’ve been a better husband.

‘I should’ve held her more..I should’ve been home more...I should’ve been more for them,’ he thought until he heard the door open and slam shut. He turned to face it and looked around the now very empty house. He allowed silent tears to drip down his face and then he took a little tour of his new environment.

He walked to the master bedroom and saw all your belongings gone. He saw your closet was empty, all your shoes gone. He went into the bathroom and saw all your stuff was missing. The tears flowed faster and when he walked into his daughter’s room, it made it 10x worse.

He opened the door to the pink room and saw her bedsheets missing, all her toys gone, her closet was barren, and her bathroom was hollow. He walked back out to his little girl’s former bed and sat down. He cried on the bed and sobbed into his hands. He broke down as he thought back to your words. You were right.

‘You have nobody to blame but yourself.’

Katsuki looked up from his hands and when he did, he took notice of the picture frame that was left faced down on the night stand. He picked it up and his heart turned to dust. It couldn’t break anymore. He looked at the picture of his once happy family. His beautiful wife, his blessing of a daughter. His two girls who had a protector...that protector was supposed to be him...and he failed. He smiled at the picture but continued to cry. It was a beautiful sight but you left it behind.

He took the picture with him as he walked to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and held the frame close to his chest as he layed down on the cold mattress. Tears still freely fell as a shadow casted over his eyes. No words could be said except for a few.

“N-Nobody to blame but myself.”

@darl1ngmei

A/N: Hey Cubs! It’s been awhile since my requests have been closed AND THEY STILL ARE but the reason why I took this one was because I’ve been on a writing spree recently (I literally have 15 drafts full of different writing pieces🤣) and I rly liked this request! Please don’t start sending requests because they may just get lost. When I open up my requests, then you guys can send some because I love to satisfy! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this piece and thank you to the cub who requested this! 🧸💗

897 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 3 years

Note

Atsumu + Alcohol

If you make him drunk, I will hug you. Also, glad to see you’re back! :>

He’s drunk. Hug me. Now. But ehehe it makes me happy that you’re glad I’m back :,) NOW HERES DRUNK ATSUMU!

Also only @shiny-bun wanted to be tagged sobs reeeeeaaaal confidence booster I know :,)

——————

Atsumu x reader - Sweet, Sweet Lies Called Drunk Miya Atsumu

⚠️warnings - mentions of alcohol through the fic. reader records videos of atsumu drunk whenever he sees him. It isn’t in a sexual way at all; and reader doesn’t touch atsumu unconsentually at all. Just likes to watch him drunk bc he loves him still :,)

Also: FUCKING ANGST. you know it’s fuckign angsty when I got emotional writing it. Also, grammarly proof read it don’t trust it.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“I think we should break up.”

(Y/n) blinked, before down casting his head. He said nothing for a while, before opening his mouth again bluntly.

“...ok.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows. He gripped the coffee mug resting on the cafe table just a bit harder. He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer. “...Ya aren’t gonna ask why? Yer just ok with it?”

“Well,” (Y/n) emotionlessly bit into a small biscuit. His expression was unreadable, blank like a piece of paper. “It’s not like I can change your mind, ‘Tsumu.”

“But...can I at least know why?”

The two went silent. Atsumu pursed his lips, trying to find the words to say while (Y/n) sat there expectantly. Eventually, Atsumu looked back up from his coffee mug.

“S’a lot of reasons, I think. ‘M busy with volleyball, ‘specially since it’s my job now,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. It was true, with the Black Jackals, he was being paid to do something he loved. “And...I...”

“I think I found a girl I really like.”

(Y/n) looked down at his lap numbly. He already knew it was coming, he wasn’t blind to the faint lipstick marks Atsumu tried to wipe away when he came home, or the smell of expensive perfume that stained him when he would come back from ‘practice’. He knew, he knew yet...

“Ah.”

Was all he could say.

——

Atsumu downed his third can of cheap beer, hissing loudly and slamming it down on the bar.

“I hate life! M’gonna fuckin’...! Run away and shit!”

Sakusa hummed. “Oh no. What happened now.”

Loud, irritating club music blared through the bar’s speakers. Atsumu slumped over the counter, making Sakusa and Bokuto lean back.

“Oi! ‘Tsum-Tsum! What’s wrong buddy?” Bokuto poked repeatedly at Atsumu’s head, making him groan and pathetically try and flick his hand away.

“M’...M’so sad...” Atsumu whimpered. Sakusa rolled his eyes while Bokuto frowned. Atsumu continued to mumble sadly into his arms until he slowly became more agitated, and whipped his drunken head up.

“Shoyo’s got a nice boyfriend! That fuckin’...Kodzuken youtuber dude! Why can’t I! If I were Shoyo, I’d be laying on my boyfriend’s lap and bein’ all cute and shit —but here I am! Fuckin’ drinkin’ and bitchin’ and fuckin’...fuck! Fuckin’ Shoyo! Fuckin’ Kodzuken! Fuckin’—”

“But didn’t you just break up with that girl you were seeing for like, months now? Thought you were straight, man!” Bokuto said, playing with the little garnish on his drink. Atsumu deadpanned, swallowing thickly before letting his head thump down onto the table.

“Thought I was. M’gayer than if unicorns shat me out.”

Sakusa sipped on his fancy, green drink. “Is this about (L/n)-san, again-“

“‘Course it’s about (Y/n)!”

Atsumu waved at the bartender to grab him another drink. The bartender looked him up and down, before shrugging and leaving off to grab another beer. Sakusa looked at Atsumu with a disappointed expression.

“You do realize that every time we drink, you get shit-faced drunk, complain about (L/n)-san, call (L/n)-san, then he picks you up and you wake up in his house because he’s too nice to refuse to pick you up. And you regret and bitch to me every single time.” Sakusa closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink. “Honestly I don’t know why I still come with you guys if I know it’s gonna end up like this.”

“Hey! ‘Tsum-Tsum has his problems and he’s just letting them out!” Bokuto defensively waved his arms around, gesturing to Atsumu on the table, laying down his head in his arms. Both Sakusa and Bokuto were pretty sure he was ugly sobbing. Or at least babbling nonsense that sounded like sobs.

“He can’t even sit up straight. And Miya-san was the one who broke up with (L/n)-san for another girl. He has no right to be complaining.”

“S-Still! ‘Tsumu’s the homie! Let him rant!” Bokuto chugged down his drink.

Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his list of contacts, before clicking on one that read ‘(L/n)-san. (Atsumu’s pick-me-up)’. The phone’s screen turned black, displaying (Y/n’s) profile pic with a ‘contacting...’ right under it in fine print.

“Sure, Bokuto-san. Whatever you want.”

——

“Fuckin’...let go of me, Omi!” Atsumu slurred. He, however, made no attempt to push Sakusa off as he dragged him outside the bar. Bokuto had long gone, and Atsumu was a few drinks overdue for his trip home.

Sakusa sighed, standing out in the cold with his mask pulled up to his face. Atsumu lolled his head onto Sakusa’s shoulder, either in an attempt to push him off or just pure drunkenness. “Don’t drool on me, Miya-san.” Sakusa cringed.

Atsumu was about to retort back, until both his and Sakusa’s attention was drawn to a home-y, black car that pulled up right in front of them. The driver’s door clicked open, and someone in a baggy sweater and sweatpants emerged from the car.

“Please take him, (L/n)-san. I’m sorry for always calling you to-”

“It’s fine!” (Y/n) chuckled, opening the passenger’s side door for Sakusa to throw Atsumu’s body in. “‘Tsumu’s been drinking a lot, huh? Isn’t this the third time this month I had to pick him up?”

Atsumu groaned when Sakusa clipped in his seatbelt. He sighed when Atsumu began tugging at it like a child, not knowing how to unbuckle it himself. “Actually, it’s the fourth time. But he has a reason today, I think.”

“He finally broke up with Yumena-san.”

Breath hitched in (Y/n’s) throat. He covered his shock up with a smile, however, and closed the car door with Atsumu in it. “Aw. Well, I better uh, drive him home, now. Bye-bye, Sakusa-kun.”

Sakusa nodded. (Y/n) stepped into his car tentatively. Ignoring the way Atsumu was still tugging at his seatbelt, he started up the car, and drove.

“I’m...sure you won’t mind sleeping over at my place again...right, ‘Tsumu?” (Y/n) mumbled, more to himself than to the drunktard sprawled out onto his car seat. He silently unlocked his phone, tapping on the camera app and propping his phone up on his dash. He hit record, and withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Atsumu eyed it suspiciously, before shrugging it off sleepily.

“Naaaah…” Atsumu slurred. He threw his head haphazardly onto the armrests separating his seat from (Y/n’s), trying to get as close to his ex as possible. “Yer apartment smells good...I miss it...I miss you…”

Shifting so he was still laying on the armrest, Atsumu tucked his arm under his head like a pillow. “Yer so...pretty…love you so much...”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. Atsumu smiled dumbly, pointing a finger gun at (Y/n). “We should-you and I should like, totally get back together n’ shit…” Atsumu stopped, letting out a hiccup, before continuing. “I miss you...n’ I love you…”

Stopping at a red light, (Y/n) looked down at Atsumu, who was staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. (Y/n) averted his gaze, chuckling awkwardly. “...You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk.”

Atsumu shot up. “But I do! M’so sad without you!” Atsumu loosened his seatbelt enough so he could rest his face on (Y/n’s) forearm. “You were the best thing in my life, n’ I need you back! I love you so muuuuuuch!”

(Y/n) stayed quiet for a second, glancing at his camera pointed directly at Atsumu nuzzling his face into his arm. He slowed the car to a stop, taking out his keys and pressing the ‘Stop’ button on his phone. He slipped both of them into his pockets.

“We’re here. C’mon, get up.” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. After sitting in his car for a while, he finally got up, and walked over to the other side to haul Atsumu’s corpse-of-a-body out of his seat. “Fuck...sometimes I wish my apartment wasn’t on the third floor-’Tsumu! You can walk if I support you, right? I’m not carrying you.”

Atsumu pressed all his weight against (Y/n). “What if I want my boyfriend to carry me like a princess n’ shit…”

“I’m-” (Y/n) swallowed. His voice was quiet and shaky again. “I’m not your boyfriend. You say stupid things when you’re drunk...”

Atsumu was about to protest, when (Y/n) looped his arm under his own arm.

“Let’s go. You need rest.”

The walk to (Y/n’s) apartment was silent.

——

Atsumu pouted, eyeing down the way Kenma was showing a video on his phone to Hinata and smiling. Hinata grinned widely, his eyes glued to Kenma’s phone screen until an obnoxious sigh drew his eyes away.

“Why’d ya even invite me here...M’just third wheelin’ on yer guys's little date time.” Atsumu frowned, dramatically slumping in his seat. Kenma hunched his shoulders down, suddenly becoming very aware of the way Atsumu not-so-subtly stared him down. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, trying to hide behind the cup itself.

Hinata defensively wrapped his arms around Kenma. “Oiiiii! We invited you over because you always get super-duper depressed after waking up hungover at (L/n’s)!”

“I’m more depressed now that yer all cuddly-wuddly with yer frickin’ boyfriend while m’sitting here with my single ass!”

“Miya wakes up hungover at (Y/n’s)?” Kenma quietly asked Hinata. He nodded. Atsumu started flailing his arms around, trying to get Hinata to stop talking, but he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Every time he goes drinking, he ends up crying about how much he still loves (L/n)—and ends up either calling him or someone else calls him to go pick him up. Either way, he wakes up super embarrassed and awkward in (L/n’s) bed and sulks the rest of the time at practice.”

Atsumu sat there, feeling like he’d been shoved to the front of a volleyball court completely naked. Kenma blinked, before looking down again.

“Oh.”

“That’s all yer gonna say-!?”

“I guess it kind of makes sense, now.”

Atsumu stopped mid-sentence, looking at Kenma with a confused expression. Kenma tried to dodge Atsumu’s eyes again, this time tugging on Hinata’s sleeve.

“...What makes sense now?”

Kenma had the look of ‘I said too much.’, trying to change the topic or hoping Hinata would swoop in and change it for him. But alas, no such thing happened. “I don’t think (Y/n) would…”

Hinata suddenly tugged back at Kenma’s sweatshirt, gesturing to turn around with him for a private conversation. They both turned their heads, mumbling out little ‘video-!’, ‘(Y/n)-!’ and ‘Atsumu-!’s here and there. Atsumu glanced from Hinata, to Kenma, before pouting that he’d been left out of the conversation.

Eventually, both Kenma and Hinata turned around again, looking directly at Atsumu. He stared back at them with doe-like confused eyes, when Kenma fished out his phone.

“If we show you, you promise to act like you never knew at all?” Hinata childishly extended his pinky finger out to Atsumu, to which he nodded vigorously and hooked his own pinky with his. Kenma piped up.

“The reason I said it made sense was because I found a folder in (Y/n’s) phone titled, and I quote: ‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad)’. They’re filled with video’s of you, drunk, blabbing about how much you love him.”

Atsumu stared at Kenma.

“Yer fuckin’ lyin’.”

“I’m...really not.” Kenma turned his phone screen around, displaying a video filmed in what seemed to be (Y/n’s) car. Atsumu leaned down and peered at the video, seeing his head frozen in place in the corner of the screen. Kenma felt around for the play button, tapping until it started playing.

Atsumu watched the video in horror, his face going milk white as he watched himself cry and sob about how much he wanted to get back with (Y/n). Right in front of him. The video ended, and Atsumu looked up with the hope of getting hit with a bus.

“How...did you get-”

“I airdropped this one to myself when (Y/n) was in the bathroom one day because I found this one funny.” Kenma mumbled, turning his phone around and inspecting the screen. “There’s millions of them on his phone, this one isn’t even the worst. Some of them are in his apartment when he’s trying to get you into bed, and I think there’s one where you beg him to cuddle with yo-”

“Stop! Stop! No more!” Atsumu covered his face, embarrassed. Kenma let his mouth fall shut, while Hinata snickered into his drink. Atsumu let his head smack onto the table. “What did I do to deserve this…”

“Hey!” Hinata quipped, his positive voice making Atsumu’s brain hurt. “You know what that means, right?”

“That (Y/n) probably wants blackmail or revenge on me for breaking up with him?” Atsumu grumbled into his hands.

“Wh-no, what,” Kenma said. “He means-”

“(L/n) still loves you! I mean-he saves videos of you saying you love him to watch when he is sad or lonely or whatever, that means he loves you still! It was even in the title!”

Atsumu glared at Hinata like he was squinting at the sun. Kenma shrugged.

“S’true. He told me himself he watches them when he goes to sleep n’stuff.”

“Yer lyin’.”

“Was he lying when he showed you the video?” Hinata raised his eyebrow.

Atsumu opened his mouth, before letting it clamp shut and shaking his head ‘no’.

——

Clinging to his side like a kicked puppy, (Y/n) found himself nursing a drunk, sobbing Atsumu at his apartment once more.

“Tsum-” (Y/n) struggled to stick his key in his door’s keyhole with the way Atsumu was quite literally hanging off him. It was like he was trying to pull (Y/n) to the ground with him. “Atsumu! I’m trying to-”

“Don’t leaaaaave meeee! I love you!” Atsumu sobbed. He wiped his messy face onto (Y/n’s) jacket.

Finally sticking the key inside and turning it, (Y/n) pushed open the door and patted at Atsumu’s ruffled hair. “I’m not leaving, ‘Tsumu. Just taking you to bed, is all. We’re still...friends...I think.”

“Don’t wanna be your friend.” Atsumu sniffled, as he staggered into (Y/n’s) room with the support of his body. He was thrown on the bed with a loud groan, as (Y/n) went to grab his phone. “We were meant to be together...boyfriends...soulmates…!”

“I wish you meant that,” (Y/n) chuckled, setting up his phone, pointing it at his bed and pressing record. “Gave it up after the fifth time you came here sloppy drunk, though. It really is just you talking out of your ass.”

The hint of bitterness in (Y/n’s) voice increased unsteadily, wavering like a candlelight. “I-I mean, you say all these nice things-then the next morning you either deny everything you said, or leave before I can even say goodbye! Or you don’t even remember most of the time!”

(Y/n’s) disgruntled laugh made Atsumu blink. He eventually simmered down, looking down at the floor and busying himself with searching through his desk.

“That’s okay though. I have these little videos of your lies to keep me company. I can live with that just fine.” (Y/n) turned to Atsumu, holding up painkillers and setting them atop the desk. “...Sorry for problem-dumping on you, ‘Tsumu. I know you want sleep.”

“Don’t take these yet. They’re for tomorrow.” (Y/n) rattled the painkillers in their box, before producing a water bottle and extending it to Atsumu. He looked at the bottle like it was some foreign object. The water sloshed around when (Y/n) swirled it around Atsumu’s face. “It’s for your hangover tomorrow. Drink up, ‘Tsum-Tsum.”

“Only if you cuddle with me.”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then m’not drinkin’ the fuggin’ water!”

“Atsum-!” (Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set down the bottle of water on his nightstand, and rested his hands on his hips. “...If I give you a tiny hug, will you drink all the water and go to sleep?”

Atsumu nodded vigorously.

(Y/n) expected him to stand up and give him a hug, but instead, he opened his arms and sat expectantly, waiting for something to crawl between them. He was so far back on the bed, (Y/n) would probably have to lay awkwardly in his chest until he was satisfied.

So that's what (Y/n) did, after what felt like hours of contemplating and clenched jaws. He bit his lip, climbing slowly towards Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu smiled dumbly, and scooped him up in his arms like a claw machine.

What Atsumu didn’t expect, was (Y/n) to stiffen up, surprised, before melting into his arms pathetically. He clumsily wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s torso, his body curling into the shape of his own like dough. He let his head slump in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, taking in a shaky, deep breath and sighing heavier than he meant to.

(Y/n) figured he must’ve forgotten how much he relished being wrapped up in Atsumu’s arms, because he found himself not wanting to let go of Atsumu’s shirt that reeked of alcohol.

Still, after what was probably only a few candid seconds, (Y/n) pushed himself away from Atsumu, who slumped back on the bed confused, and wobbled his way back onto his feet.

“There…” (Y/n) breathed. He had the most unreadable expression, and his voice was quiet and raspy. “Now-now drink th-the water...you promised.”

Atsumu shrugged, swiping the water from the nightstand, and chugging it sloppily. (Y/n) went to work removing Atsumu’s socks, pants, and other things uncomfy to sleep in, until he was left in his boxers and t-shirt. Atsumu stared at (Y/n) sleepily, as he grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and threw them on the swivel chair near his desk.

“...Y-Yer not gonna sleep here with me?”

(Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over to stop his phone from recording, and curled up on the chair with his pillow. His voice was meek under the thin blanket he wrapped himself in. “You always ask, and i’ll always say no. Honestly I don’t know why you keep asking.”

“You look cold.”

“I’m...really not.”

“S’comfier on the bed.”

“...I like this chair.”

“I can scoot over-”

“Miya, if I give in and cuddle with you, everythings gonna be sunshine and rainbows ‘til the next morning—where you wake up next to me and regret everything! I’m-i’m trying to save your dignity here so stop asking!” (Y/n) croaked. He clutched his blanket tighter. “You’re drunk! You aren’t thinking! I already gave your-your stupid hug so stop it! How do you think I feel!?”

Atsumu rubbed at his head. (Y/n’s) hot face immediately flushed out, his voice quieting down back into his normal voice.

“Ah...I’m...sorry. You’re...tired and I probably shocked you with my-by being loud n’stuff.” (Y/n) bowed his head slightly, before shifting away from Atsumu in his little swivel chair. “Sorry. Go to sleep now. Night, ‘Tsumu.”

When he heard shifting on the bed, (Y/n) grabbed his earphones and turned out the light. Plugging in his earphones hurriedly, he switched on his phone, clicking on the photos app and on today's video of Atsumu to cheer him up. He even caught the hug on camera, so he was looking forward to that.

Dimming his phone's brightness to not disturb Atsumu, (Y/n) scrolled through the video, everything moving in fast-motion until (Y/n) saw himself climb into Atsumu’s arms. He paused the video there, smiling numbly, and taking a screenshot.

Before he could add the video to the rest of his collection of drunk-sumu videos, he was suddenly hauled up and hanging upside down. He was tossed over Atsumu’s shoulder, not even having time to protest before he was thrown carefully onto his own bed.

“Hey-Tsu-” Atsumu said nothing, climbing into the bed gracefully after (Y/n) and pulling the covers over the both of them. “Listen to me-! Let me go-!”

“If yer gonna keep sayin’ shit like...like i’ll regret it in the mornin’...fuckin’... let me,” Atsumu slurred. (Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but Atsumu beat him to it. “S’my fault…’n...m’gonna deal with it in the mornin’. S-so lemme hold you.”

(Y/n) knitted together his eyebrows, looking conflicted on what he should do. He’d been so, so good at restraining himself from stealing hugs and kisses from Atsumu when he was drunk, and his reward was the videos. If he messed it up now, would Atsumu be too embarrassed to let himself get picked up by (Y/n) when he was drunk? Was he really willing to potentially give up future lovey-dovey drunk videos, and seeing Atsumu tell him he loved him for one night in his arms again?

He was.

(Y/n) relaxed, a numb expression on his face. He was just about done. One last time of drunk Atsumu holding him for a whole night, then it was time to move on. Hell, maybe after tonight, and after explaining to a very-embarassed hungover Atsumu in the morning that “No, we did not have sex,” maybe, just maybe, he would finally delete the videos. The video’s of his ex who didn’t love him anymore, feeding him drunk lies of ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, and finally moving on with his life.

(Y/n) ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a tuckered-out sigh. Maybe after he stopped clinging to the past, he could be normal friends with Atsumu Miya again.

(Y/n) looked at Atsumu with dry eyes. He let himself succumb to Atsumu’s warm chest, breathing in his scent for what could possibly be the last time. Atsumu purred happily, adjusting so he could wrap both arms around (Y/n), using one as a pillow for him and another to wrap around his body. (Y/n) hummed dryly.

Atsumu giggled. “...Love you...so much.”

(Y/n), for once out of all the time’s he’d always respond with ‘No, you don’t.’ or ‘You’re just drunk.’, said:

“I love you too.”

“...hehe...he…” Atsumu kissed the crown of (Y/n’s) forehead, before nuzzling it with his nose. “I love you sososo much.”

(Y/n) was quick to respond, even though his throat began closing up and making it hard to speak. You could probably tell he was on the verge of tears. “Me too, ‘Tsumu. I love you most.”

“I love you so much…” Atsumu began, this time his voice way more clearer and sober than what he’d been speaking with this whole night.

“...That i’d pretend m’drunk just to see you again.”

“...”

(Y/n) blinked, not quite processing his words. He shrunk inside Atsumu’s cage-like arms, before timidly meeting Atsumu’s eyes. They seemed much clearer, less hazy from ‘alcohol’, and they stared back at him with it’s usual ‘Atsumu’ look.

“...huh…?”

Atsumu patted (Y/n’s) head. “Yer so cute. I love you so much.”

“Wh-wait-” (Y/n) tried to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s arms. “You-you’re not-”

“Nope. All I did at the bar tonight was watch Bokkun and Shoyo-kun drink so i’d smell like alcohol. Then I told—well, paid Omi-Omi to call you sayin’ I was drunk again, so I could see what stupid shit I did at your place when I was drunk.”

“Though,” Atsumu nodded at the discarded phone on the ground, next to (Y/n’s) makeshift swivel chair-bed. “I could've just asked to see that video of me. Or the rest of them, ‘coordin’ to Kozume-kun.”

(Y/n) sputtered, trying to find the words to speak, but finding himself too embarrassed to. He’d, finally, been caught red-handed.

He sighed, casting his head down, before crawling out of his bed and taking the walk of shame to his phone. “...You caught me,’Tsu...Atsumu. Caught me real good, Atsumu.”

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone, searching for the album full of his drunk video’s of Atsumu. He clicked on it, then waved his phone around guiltily. He turned the phone around, peering down at it sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete all of these...and I...I can drive you home if you want.”

“Nah. M’pretty comfy here.” Atsumu laid back down. “I’d be comfier if you were in my arms again, though.”

Atsumu made grabby arms towards (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked, searching Atsumu for any sort of satire. He found none, and nervously inched toward Atsumu until he was pulled back into his chest. The phone was, once again, forgotten on the floor.

“Wheeeeeey, there we go~” Atsumu nestled down onto the bed, crooning (Y/n) in his arms and stroking his head. “Ain’t that comfy.”

He pressed a small kiss to (Y/n’s) forehead. “Love you. Goodnight~”

“...Wait, n-no you-”

Atsumu pressed another kiss onto (Y/n’s) face, promptly shutting him up. He tried speaking again, just to have another kiss placed onto his face. This cycle went on, (Y/n) trying to voice out his protests just to be hushed with kisses all over his face, until he reduced into a pile of hot tears, melting his face off raw.

Atsumu kissed (Y/n’s) tears away. When more kept coming, Atsumu pulled back, stroking (Y/n’s) hair as gently as he could. Gentle was not a word to describe Miya Atsumu, but he sure as hell would try.

“Stop cryin’...” Atsumu whispered, kissing another falling tear away. “I came here to win ya back, not make you cry…”

“I-I’m sorry-” (Y/n) sobbed out between hics. “I just- I missed you so-”

“I did too.”

They sat there, small hics coming from (Y/n) as Atsumu quietly stroked his hair, and in all honesty, they would have laid there forever. But (Y/n) finally wriggled his way out Atsumu’s grasp, timpering his way to his phone.

He picked it up, fiddling with it, before turning his phone screen around. Atsumu leaned closer.

‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad) - 0 videos’

“Deleted them all.” (Y/n) murmured. “Figured I wouldn’t need them anymore now that I got you here…”

Atsumu blinked before erupting into a wide smile. He sprang off the bed and attacked (Y/n) with a big, bear hug. “You bet yer ass you won’t!”

He peppered kisses around (Y/n’s) face, and instead of crying, (Y/n) began to smile.

“Stop it-that tickles! ‘Tsumu-!” The red tear stains on (Y/n’s) face were barely noticeable under the flurry of kisses he was under. Atsumu grinned stupidly into (Y/n’s) skin.

“Ya know full well you don’t want me to.”

And he didn’t.

Atsumu pressed one final kiss to (Y/n’s) face, this time, and for the first time in a long time: on his lips.

——————

I’m really proud of this 👉👈 I’d like it if I could get a lil,,,reblog,,,with thoughts,,,or comments,,,aha ha ha,,,

Lil thing I found funny

#hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x male reader #hq sakusa #msby 4 #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu male reader #hq atsumu #atsumu x male reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu angst #atsumu miya x male reader #miya atsumu x male reader #miya atsumu

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

The Other Side of the Storm

Summary: Spencer & Luke are not out as a couple but have to attend the same FBI gala where a young, pretty agent insists on flirting with Luke. Misunderstandings and surprising reveals ensue.

Tags: relationship reveal, secret relationship, coming out, jealousy, caught, hurt/comfort, autistic spencer, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, found family, est. rel., cuddling & snuggling, domestic fluff

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Lets pretend I didn't just disappear for a couple of weeks bc I'm BACK now yay! This is written for a prompt from @ralvezhq who asked: "Ralvez is already dating but no one knows about them yet. they get invited to some sort of FBI gala and a young, accomplished female agent won’t stop flirting with luke and spencer is absolutely not having it so he finds a way to let everyone know they are together." -- I stuck to it except that they're caught rather than willingly confessing, I hope that's okay! I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you do as well.

!!!TW: the woman is very insistent on her flirting and makes Luke uncomfortable when she touches his chest without his consent!!!

“Any particular reason you keep looking over at that table full of Fugitive Task Force members, Spence?” JJ asks amusedly, sipping from her wine glass.

“Mm, I’ve noticed you looking over there a little bit,” Tara muses. “You got your eye on someone?”

Spencer looks down and forces a laugh, but he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink, and knows that he’s not gonna hear the end of this for the rest of the night. The team have never been fond of the FBI Galas they’re forced into attending every year, and unfortunately, Hotch’s usual stunt of pulling a non-urgent case from the stack and jetting off to some far-flung corner of the country to avoid it failed to fool the director this time.

He’d broken the news to them at the start of the week, and conversation in the bullpen has pretty much exclusively revolved around the event ever since. Even Penelope, who loves seeing people win awards and dressing up in her favourite full-glam outfits, has been significantly less upbeat. She only gave him one spontaneous hug all week.

None of them, though, have been dreading it more than Spencer. The others aren’t exactly fond of the faux smiles and convoluted politics and fake niceties either, sure, but tonight he has far more to lose than ever before. Namely, the man sat just out of his direct eye line at the Fugitive Task Force table.

Ironically, he and Luke had gotten ready for the same event together. They’d stood in the mirror side by side and tied one another’s ties in the way that always makes Spencer smile and Luke had gently brushed his hair out of eyes, but when it came time to leave, Spencer called a rideshare, and Luke drove the truck, arriving at completely different times in completely different vehicles.

The thing is, that as much as he loves his team, and as much as the FBI fraternisation policy has been significantly relaxed over the last few years, no one can know they’re together and have been for the last eight months.

Even the thought of Derek or Hotch or even JJ finding out — not only that he’s dating someone but that that person is a man — makes him feel queasy.

Which is why he smiles around an awkward cough and forces himself to meet the eyes of his profiler teammates, fighting every instinct in him to run, leg it out of here, never show your face again.

“No, I’m just looking at the clock above them,” he lies, and it isn’t smooth in any way shape or form but it’ll have to do. “You know I can’t wait for this to end. I haven’t read any Carl Jung in weeks.”

Tara laughs, raising her wine glass slightly. “Now that I understand.”

“Nah, I’m not so sure,” Derek grins slyly, “I think my man has his eye on some girl and he’s just getting a little shy, am I right, pretty boy?” He quirks an eyebrow playfully, leaning over to pat him on the back, and Spencer scrambles to recover.

“Believe whatever you’d like, Morgan,” he says, bringing his own glass to his lips to conceal any tells in his expression. “Doesn’t make it any less false.”

Thankfully, the conversation is interrupted by the Director clearing his throat into the mic on the stage as he introduces the next round of awards. Spencer loses himself in the anonymity of a dark room and a clapping audience, grateful that he’s avoided this round of interrogation.

The rest of the night progresses similarly. Spencer tries to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table — and valiantly attempts to keep from blushing like a schoolgirl when their eyes meet and Luke’s lips quirk upwards in an I-tried-to-stop-it-but-I-just-can’t kind of smile — and the rest of his team rib him pretty relentlessly about this ‘girl’ he supposedly has his eye on.

Hotch tries to get the team to leave him alone, but when a group of skilled, determined profilers all a little tipsy on wine and champagne encounter a friend’s mysterious love life, it’s pretty difficult to stand in their way.

Once dessert is served, though, things rapidly go downhill.

As much as he’s been trying to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table, it’s almost impossible to prevent his gaze from straying in a temporary moment of cognitive lapse every now and then, and while everyone is relatively quiet and occupied, digging into the Belgian waffle dessert, it happens once again. This time, though, instead of a small smile from Luke, he’s rewarded with the frankly heart-stopping sight of a young, pretty agent practically sitting in his lap, trying to feed him dessert.

He looks uncomfortable, and immediately Spencer is hit with an overwhelming wave of insecurity, jealousy, and an urge to protect that strangles his breath for a moment. He stares unabashedly, no longer caring whether anyone sees him because that’s his boyfriend and an extremely pretty woman is all over him and he looks like he wants her to stop, and oh my god, what does he do?

“Is that the girl you like all over that dude?” Derek asks sympathetically, catching onto Spencer’s staring. “It’s alright, man, if she’d choose someone else over you then she’s not right for you anyway. Why don’t you come and enjoy your dessert?”

Spencer senses the rest of the team’s eyes on him, but they don’t say anything, probably from a combination of pity, awkwardness, and confidence in Derek to counsel him through it. He’s hardly cognisant of that, though, instead a roar of emotion crashing through his mind, and he has no idea what to do about it.

When he sees a perfectly manicured hand land directly on Luke’s chest, though; when he sees Luke reject her more firmly, this time pushing her away; when he watches as she clearly gears herself up for some sad protest of self-victimisation, he sees red.

Before he can stop himself, he’s storming across the room over to Luke’s table. “Hi,” he says firmly, audibly pissed off and not in the mood for bullshit, “do you mind if I borrow my friend here? I have some official FBI business to discuss with him. Thanks.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs Luke’s arm and leads him to the corridor outside the main hall, Luke following quickly and willingly behind him.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks with his brow furrowed, his hand coming up to gently rest on Luke’s waist as he peers at him concernedly through the dim lighting of the hallway.

“Yes, baby, I’m fine,” Luke smiles reassuringly, raising a hand to Spencer’s face. “I’m sorry you had to see that. She was… persistent.”

“She shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable like that,” Spencer insists, still feeling distressed and anxious despite the immediate situation having been diffused.

“You’re right,” Luke agrees. “And she should’ve listened to me when I told her I was taken. I’m sorry you had to see someone flirting with me so openly like that, carinõ, I know you still get insecure about things like that.”

Spencer sighs, relaxing slowly the more he hears Luke’s voice as steady and strong and kind as it always is. He steps forward and buries his face in Luke’s neck as he nestles in close for a comforting hug.

“You know I only have eyes for you, right, sweetheart?” Luke whispers softly, one arm holding his waist and another tangling itself in Spencer’s loose curls.

He nods into Luke’s neck, but doesn’t make any move to pull away, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of standing so intimately with the man he loves until—

“Spencer!” Derek’s voice pulls him violently from his sweet escape from reality and horror instantly floods him as he jerks away from Luke, staring at Derek in a nauseating mixture of alarm and trepidation.

“What…” Derek stares right back at him as both JJ and Tara come tumbling through the doors behind him, looking ready for a fight—

Oh. That makes sense. They all saw him storming towards a woman they thought he had a crush on, then pull the man she was flirting with out into the most secluded corridor surrounding the hall. Even considering Spencer’s character, he has to admit that the circumstances definitely look like he was gearing up for a fight, and everyone knows that he is not the kind of person who could hold his own against an ex-military man who chases down criminals for a living.

“You’re… not fighting him,” Derek says hesitantly, the puzzle pieces clearly falling into place for him.

Spencer shakes his head minutely, and is only thankful when Luke inches closer and wraps an arm around him. After all, he has nothing more to lose.

“You were looking at him, not her,” Derek continues slowly.

Spencer nods, unable to meet the eyes of any of the three friends standing in front of him.

“You’re dating him,” he says, still sounding shocked, his voice almost entirely numb. “You’re gay.”

“Or bisexual,” Tara offers, and Spencer takes a little comfort in the fact that she doesn’t sound shocked or upset, her voice warm and helpful. He tries to meet her eye, but he can’t work up the courage and buries closer into Luke’s embrace instead.

“Gay,” he whispers.

“Spence,” JJ says quietly, earnestly, “why didn’t you tell us?”

It’s too much to go into right now, too convoluted and long of a story for him to explain when even choking out a single syllable takes a herculean effort, so he shrugs instead.

“We were talking all night assuming you were interested in a woman,” Derek says numbly, more to himself than anything, but Spencer watches out of the corner of his eye as he shakes off the shock and comes back to himself, slowly putting more of the puzzle together as he looks at Spencer. “That’s why you didn’t tell us. We’ve been making assumptions all this time and hurting you in the process.”

“Oh, Spence,” JJ whispers sadly, stepping a little closer.

“I’m so sorry, pretty boy, I— I should’ve known or tried to be more inclusive at least, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this.”

The regret in his friends’ voices and the absence of a negative reaction brings him out of the safety of Luke’s arms slightly. His boyfriend is eyeing him with serious concern, and he tries a smile to reassure him a little, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he manages, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally succeeds in making eye contact. “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you another time, but, uh— this is Luke. We’ve been together for eight months, two weeks, and four days.”

Luke smiles fondly. “As much as we didn’t expect to reveal it like this, it’s nice to meet all of you properly,” Luke says warmly, shaking everyone’s hands quickly before stepping back to Spencer and interlocking their fingers, pressing a quick but meaningful kiss to his temple.

“I’m really glad you felt able to share this with us, Spence,” Tara says encouragingly, smiling at him in that bright, reassuring way of hers that rivals Penelope in the warmth and comfort it radiates. “I’m proud of you.”

Something about her reaction this entire time has him wondering whether she already knew. He’ll ask her later when he feels less like his heart is still firmly lodged in his throat.

“Me too, kid,” Derek agrees, smiling as well. Spencer wonders whether the initial shock and numb reaction was more a response to his own behaviour than anything about him and Luke, and the thought makes him feel substantially better.

JJ grins, stepping forward and grabbing Spencer’s other hand. “Me three.”

Before anyone can say anything else, the doors are opening again and Penelope is flying through them.

“Oh! Thank god you’re all okay! You just ran off after Spencer and I left you guys to it because I thought you could handle it better than I could but then you didn’t come back and even Hotch was worried, and—” she cuts herself off as she realises everyone staring at her, and slowly she takes in the scene around her. “Oh my god, I’ve missed something. Oh my god, I missed a moment, didn’t I? What have I told you guys about having moments without me? Someone tell me what happened, please, before I explode—”

“Alright, Penelope,” Spencer chuckles, interrupting her. He’s known her for too long to expect her to cut herself off when she’s on a tirade like that. “Uh, this is Luke. My boyfriend.”

“Your… your boyfriend? Oh my god, I finally get to meet him? Wait you told the others? Oh my god I’ve missed so much!”

“Penelope knew?” Derek asks, surprised.

“Half of mine and Spencer’s mutual friends are FBI Agents, and the other half are drag queens, of course I knew,” Penelope dismisses him, “but he wasn’t ready for me to meet his boyfriend yet or even know his name and I very nicely did not go hunting to find him out because I could’ve done that, but I didn’t, because I value you so much as a friend, Spencer, and I’m so glad you finally—”

“Penelope!” Spencer interjects, laughing even more as the tension and distress he’d felt only minutes ago finally melts away fully. “Do you actually want to introduce yourself to Luke, or do you want to keep rambling about drag queens?”

“Right! Yes!” she says eagerly, turning to Luke. “I’m Penelope and it is so nice to meet you, like you don’t even know how much I’ve wanted to meet the man who has my blueberry muffin blushing bright pink in the corner of my batcave while he texts on the phone, and I know you call him carinõ because I saw a text once and it’s the sweetest nickname ever, you are just the cutest, and we are going to be best friends—”

Spencer rests his head on Luke’s shoulder as he listens fondly to Penelope rambling and his friends chatting amongst themselves and everyone getting to know the most important man in his life — the only man he’s ever wanted anything long term with, the only man he’s ever wanted to actually marry one day — and a warm, sweet feeling of contentment floods his chest.

It’s far from the way he thought he’d feel after the team found about Luke, and he savours it, holds it in his mouth for as long as he can before swallowing the memory and filing it away to treasure forever. A moment like this deserves that kind of reverence.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Luke asks gently as they crawl into bed, tired but happy at gone 2am. He pulls Spencer into his side as soon as they’re under the duvet, resting his chin on his head as he always does.

Moments like these make Spencer smile, the kind of familiar routine that’s so essential to their relationship. Luke had figured out early on that close physical contact and firm touches make him feel safe and settle his racing mind, so they’d worked out positions that made them both feel comfortable, and now relaxing into them is second nature.

“A bit weird,” Spencer admits after thinking for a moment. “I’m happy that they know now and everyone took it well, but it’s strange. A significant part of who I am has been not only that I’m gay, but the dedication I felt to protecting that secret. And now that it’s out, it feels like something private has been bared for my friends to inspect.”

“I think that’s only natural,” Luke muses quietly, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s curls. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll adjust eventually.”

Spencer sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. After I tackle telling Hotch and Rossi, it’ll be nice not to have to hide it. I’ll be able to talk about you at work and maybe even go crazy and put a photo of you on my desk.”

“Wow, that is wild, check you out,” Luke chuckles, before they settle into a comfortable silence in the warm glow of their bedroom. Eventually, he speaks up though, quiet and reverent. “I’m proud of you, carinõ. I really am.”

The words instantly make Spencer smile, a light blush tinging his ears again. He hides his face in Luke’s chest, scooching impossibly closer into his arms. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” Luke replies, a happy sigh in his voice.

He reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. His hand returns to Spencer’s hair and something clicks into place somewhere, a fundamental alignment of the universe that brings a feeling of something so incredibly right as their breathing rhythmically matches to one another and they slide into the welcome embrace of sleep.

I hope you enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with this one. If anyone has any more ralvez relationship reveal prompts, feel free to send them my way!

Taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @spencerspecifics @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @thataveragenerd @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @ropoto @cmily @nudgerox @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @downwiththedoorpoole @nomajdetective (Add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #ralvez #criminal minds #cm #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez fic #ralvez fanfic #ralvez fanfiction #luke alvez/spencer reid #luke alvez x spencer reid #spencer reid/luke alvez #spencer reid x luke alvez #ralvez fluff #ralvez relationship reveal #ralvez au

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teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸, 𝓲𝓯 𝓲𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾

character(s): izuku midoriya x gn!reader (x katsuki bakugou)

a/n: gosh i love angst (quick note!! i edit to the best of my ability, however it’s easy to miss things, and i type 100 words per minute, so im sorry if i miss some things!) this ain’t a poly relationship btw, i don’t feel like i could write that well (no shame to people who do!! personally i feel like i would butcher it)

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

based off the song: it’s my party by lesley gore

summary: y/n realizes going to katsuki bakugou’s wedding was a mistake

genre: angst all the way shawties

warnings: light cursing, heartbreak, alcohol, one-sided pining (reader), aged up/pro-hero au, sad reminiscing bc ahaha bakugou made us sad :’) and a crap load of references to the song, friend zoning (eesh)

word count: 2,566

ik yall are waiting for a part 2 of brutal and part 3 of you’re not my boyfriend but this idea just struck i had to get it down pls

- - -

“let’s raise a toast to our finest lovebirds, my best friend and his wife, katsuki bakugou and ochaco uraraka!” kirishima took a sip of champagne.

you lifted your beverage in unison with the others seated at your table but did not drink. you blinked down at the fizzing beverage.

“we wish you all the best,” kirishima said. “you and your best buds have no doubt you two’ll be known as some of the most indestructible symbols of peace.”

another wave of applause passed among the crowd. the last toast was finished and the music resumed. your entire table left you sitting. it wasn’t like you knew anyone here, anyways. nobody except for the few classmates bakugou was still in touch with.

those people consisted of izuku midoriya, who was sitting at the table across from you, as well as across the dance floor.

the lights twinkled up again, red, blue, and green flashing along the floor.

you couldn’t deny it. bakugou in a red suit, uraraka in a wedding dress fell just above her knees, a red bow tied around her waist. you did not doubt that if you were to be sold as a healthy person on the black market, that dress would still be worth more than you.

the only comfort you had was midoriya, who had greeted you when you came in, but the two of you had exchanged no further words. but he looked equally as miserable as you.

uraraka and bakugou were perfect together. they looked happy. and you were happy to see bakugou happy. happy to see uraraka happy with him.

bakugou dipped his newlywed wife to the beat of the music. her back arched perfectly into his large hands.

what hurts the most was that, while you wished it was you instead of her on that dance floor, you knew it wouldn’t work out.

not that you and bakugou wouldn’t have worked out. the two of you were a perfect couple!

what hurts the most was that it was a wish, and in every near universe, you still didn’t have that ring.

uravity and dynamight simply looked...happier.

you stormed out, shaking. why was your katsuki kissing her? holding her when it should have been you?

deep down, you knew you had no right. you and bakugou were barely a couple. throughout his years at yuuei, he’d calmed down immensely. so much that he could strike up a conversation with nearly everyone. as it turns out, introverted katsuki bakugou was a shameless flirt.

the two of you exchanged flitting glances from time to time, but it was never anything serious. at least to him, it wasn’t.

you knew he’d never taken the flirting seriously, and you also knew about his aching feelings for uraraka. how he covered his mouth whenever she walked by. how his voice raised just a bit, and how soft his eyes got.

you shouldn’t have been surprised. he never even hinted that he might have had romantic feelings for you.

the entire room erupted with applause as he kissed her. the katsuki bakugou, kissing someone? pfft, only in dreams.

for some, the dream would be good. like uraraka, who had shamelessly kissed him back.

for you, it was a complete nightmare.

the blaring music, the lights, the balloons, the ‘happy graduation class of 1-A!’

you drowned it all out. you curled your knees to your chest. you had no right to be hurt. not at all. they were his emotions. you had no control over them.

loneliness clouded over you. your chest screamed with longing. a longing to be held. be wanted by him.

you were alone. nobody was coming to comfort you. nobody was-

the door opened, clicking shut just as quickly. someone sniffled.

your eyes flicked up from your knees.

“y/n? i...i’m sorry, i had no idea anyone was out here...i can leave...”

“it’s alright, izuku.”

izuku took a swig from a bottle containing something much heavier than champagne.

that same tug in your chest came about. you were tired of seeing the billboards, the magazines. tired of seeing the unquestionably perfect relationship, perfect love bloom right before you.

dynamight and uravity this! dynamight and uravity that!

the music was loud enough, the lights were busy enough, and the people were ignorant enough to neglect your crying figure.

this was supposed to be my party. he loved me first.

“you okay?” you asked, swiping your nose.

izuku looked back at the graduation party. “no, y/n. i’m not.”

“then we’re both absolute shit.” you let him help you up. “why’re you crying?”

“just...just uraraka.”

“for me it’s just bakugou.”

just as bakugou had calmed down during his years at yuuei, izuku had earned a sense of sarcasm. “are they just oblivious or stupid?”

“goodness, izuku,” you joked, pressing a hand to your shuddering chest. “calling uraraka stupid?”

he gave you a sad side-smile. you listened in silence as the upbeat music played on.

“i guess we’re the stupid ones.” he sighed, chest heaving a little.

“i guess,” you agreed. he pulled you into a hug, and you let the tears flow. your sobs corrupted your chest as you curled into his arms. “why? why did it have to be her?”

“not all heroes end up happy, y/n.”

you looked up at him, eyes puffy, sniffling. “why can’t we be part of that small portion of heroes who are?”

izuku looked up, trying to neglect the water pooling in his own eyes. “i guess...well, not to be a narcissist—” he let out a breathy chuckle, “―but if you noticed, all the greatest heroes die with some kind of regret.”

“maybe i don’t want to be a good hero.” you ignored his efforts to lighten the mood.

“heroes don’t always get to choose whether they’ll be good or not. some things just happen.”

“i’m sorry, izuku.” you swiped at your eyes. “you’re hurt just as badly as me. i don’t want to make it—”

“hey.” izuku gently pried your hands away from your face, fingers ghosting over your wrists. his emerald eyes gleamed as they stared into yours. “don’t invalidate your feelings just because of me. we’re both hurting, but that doesn’t mean i won’t listen to you.”

your sobs came back again, and you fell into his chest.

bakugou spun uraraka, laughing gently as she twirled in his arms. his eyes lit up whenever he saw her. they twinkled. he sparkled. his smile was dazzling. and he was everything you never had.

you were a heartbroken mess, even after all these years. there was a list of all the reasons you were mad at him, and yourself.

your sobs were almost uncontrollable, and at this point, you were shocked nobody came to check on you. not that you cared very much. even if you were making a small effort to hide your face, it still would have been nice to feel a touch on your shoulder, someone perhaps shaking you gently to make sure you were awake.

not that you’d tell them what was wrong. you just wanted to know somebody cared, and to have the option to talk to somebody if you needed to do so.

but here you were. cheesy, upbeat fifties music echoed along the walls of the room. bakugou had secretly adored artists from back then, and you’d often catch him dancing and singing along to long-forgotten oldies.

if you weren’t his best friend, you would have blown off coming here and binge-watched ‘my best friend’s wedding’ and sobbed.

your head was down, forehead leaning on the backs of your forearms stacked upon each other. tears were streaming down, your shoulders shuddering with each weak breath sucked in and released.

until bakugou chose you, you had no reason to smile. at least not now. by no means were you desperate. love sometimes did that to people. made them look needy, look unwanted.

you’ve had plenty of options in the past, but the one person who you wanted didn’t want you back. didn’t even care.

since the graduation party, uraraka and you had been a bit tense. a part of her felt like she knew how you felt, and how bakugou mattered to you more than anyone in the world.

after the first year, she began abandoning izuku and ignoring his emotions towards her. after she and bakugou found each other, they had already known they would settle with one another.

you and izuku had never been close, but you were both good friends and were there when you needed one another.

he had walked you through your pain of senior year, and you’d helped him reach a lot of his goals, too. but bakugou just didn’t seem to care anymore. not even about becoming the number one hero. he looked at uraraka like she was his goal, his new dream, the reason he was happy. he looked at her and saw that he had the world in his hands and wanted to keep it that way.

you? you were pluto. exiled from the rest of the planets. exiled from the rest of his options, when you used to be his first.

“y/n?”

you and izuku backed away from each other. you’d both been crying for quite a bit. how long it had been, you were both unsure.

uraraka now stood at the door. you peeked into the window, leaning back a bit and catching glances of the blonde, who was currently being clapped on the back by his friends, congratulated for ‘getting the girl’.

“are you guys okay?’ uraraka asked.

“would you cry, uraraka?”

she tilted her head. “what?”

you pushed yourself off of izuku. “do you think you’d cry if you saw me kissing him, too?”

“what’re you―”

“you would cry, too! you would be sobbing!” you stabbed an accusatory finger at her. “you were my friend! you knew how i felt, and you’re kissing him?”

uraraka’s eyes widened. “i...i’m sorry. it all just happened, and i—”

“shut the hell up, uraraka. you ruined this party. for me and izuku.”

perhaps you went a bit far, but in your heart and your mind, you knew she deserved it. she knew. uraraka had known.

izuku gave uraraka a sympathetic look before pressing a hand to your back and leading you away.

it still came as a bit of a shock that uraraka had let bakugou invite you to their wedding. gosh. little, domestic bakugou, sealing invitations and batting his eyes at his oh-so-sweet wife so he could invite his best friend.

little domestic uraraka sweetly kissing her fiance on the cheek and pouting as she said, “how can i say no?”

it was disgusting, and everything you wanted to have with him.

you allowed yourself to be selfish this one time. after all, you deserved it. you’d endured hours of bakugou blabbering on about how sweet uraraka was. everything you weren’t.

you took the bottle to champagne. your ankles were aching as you stumbled out of the room. your vision blurred, becoming foggy with tears. not one person stopped you. you guessed because nobody noticed.

like graduation night, you slumped down right outside the doors to the party, the music, lights, and laughter muffled. the only difference was that you had a bottle of champagne and the man of your dreams was gone. for good, this time.

“i wish she noticed me. it was like, after first year, the uraraka i knew just vanished.”

you nodded. you and midoriya were wandering the streets, cool air brushing down your neck and on your face as cars passed.

“uraraka was so sweet, but she lost feelings so fast and...ugh.” midoriya ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his curls. “i’m still a bit...baffled. i know people change, but she and kacchan both switched up so fast.”

“i don’t want to say they’re jackasses, but they’re kind of jackasses.”

izuku rubbed your shoulder as you leaned on him while the two of you walked. “don’t say that.”

“sorry,” you breathed.

“no more being sorry. being sorry all the time leads to shit like this.”

you chuckled. “yeah, it does.” you sniffed. “did i take you away from the party? you can go back if you want.”

he shrugged. “’s all right. i don’t mind.”

“do you want to be here or would you rather be in there?”

“out here with you. i can’t be there right now.”

“me too.”

“let me guess.”

you looked up and scoffed softly.

“this was supposed to be your party?”

you nodded. “my party, my groom. i’m not supposed to be crying at my party, am i?”

your friend shook his head. “not at all. cheer up, y/n.”

izuku slid down the wall, sitting beside you. he rested his arms on his knees, twisting open his own bottle of champagne. “you look like a mess.”

“and you look like you need anger management.” you smiled.

he grinned back. “do i now?”

“yeah, you do. you should have seen yourself sitting there. all alone, the one person drinking something that wasn’t the fifty-thousand yen drinks.”

“54,795.75 yen, to be exact.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re insane. you kidding me? why do you know that?”

“i was the weird kid who took notes on everyone in the class. of course i would know this. i’m offended you think i wouldn’t.”

you tilted your head back in laughter. “gosh, izuku.”

“mhm.”

there was a pause. comfortable silence filled the space, broken by you sigh after gulping down your drink. “so they’re gone?”

“i’d rather not dwell on it.”

“how old are we now?”

izuku gave a breathy chuckle. “twenty-five.”

you smiled. “really, now? and i thought i would be married by now.”

“me too. ‘s a shame.”

“how about, if we’re both still not married by the time we’re forty, we get married to each other, adopt three children and we become hot parents.”

“three?”

“yeah, we can have a mini hero agency.”

“that’s horrifying. but i agree. having a mini hero agency would be pretty amazing.”

“i’m glad you agree with me, izuku.” you brushed a curl from his eyes.

“can’t wait until i’m forty,” he smirked.

“me neither.”

“maybe by then we would have forgotten all of this?”

“we’ll be fighting a villain, and we get our memories erased, and then we fall in love because we wake up beside each other in the hospital. we’re both equally confused.” you peppered him with jokes. “it’s a journey we will go on together.”

“can’t wait until my memory gets erased.”

“do you wanna get out of here?”

izuku shook his head. “it’s their wedding. we can’t. we shouldn’t.”

you gave him a silly look.

“you’re always such trouble, y/n.”

“if you hate it, then wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

izuku’s features softened. “maybe i like it. but only sometimes.” he took your head and lead you out, leaving his drink behind while you took yours.

a single tear rolled down your cheek. he didn’t erase all your pain, nor your feelings for bakugou. it wasn’t what you needed, no.

you just needed a friend. a real one. one that wouldn’t steal your dream from you. and that’s what you knew you had right now.

besides, things could happen in the future, right?

you smiled, and let the cold air touch your skin.

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

🥺 babe 🥺 bAbE

What if Jask gets sick at Kaer Morhen but tries to hide it from Geralt bc he doesn't want him to think he's gross/weak/etc? And Geralt has the Feelings Braincell for once?

oh babe... thank you

tw: sickness, falling unconscious, fever, whump/angst with a happy ending

---

Jaskier knew he had a fever the moment he woke up. He could feel it burning beneath this skin like a forge, flushing his face a more vibrant shade of pink than usual. He glared at his reflection in the small, round mirror above his dressing table and willed himself to feel better. It was his first winter at Kaer Morhen, and he didn’t want Geralt to think he’d made a mistake by inviting Jaskier along to stay. The bard knew that his stoic, self-loathing Witcher would blame himself immediately for any misfortune or illness that befell Jaskier. Geralt might even reconsider inviting him back again someday. So he had to keep his little bug a secret until he was well. Surely it was nothing major. Surely it would pass after a few days, unnoticed and unremarkable.

He should have known better.

Jaskier dabbed a bit more perfume than usual (which was generally none at all) beneath his ears and along his wrists. He hoped the peony-lavender mixture would mask whatever kind of scent his illness might carry and slowly, carefully made his way down the long stone staircase that led from the guest bedroom to the enormous kitchen. His limbs felt achy and tired, even though he’d slept heavily the night previous. His head sat heavy and unbalanced atop his shoulders; the world wavered and spun around him as he desperately tried to keep from pitching sideways into the wall.

“You alright there, boy?” Vesemir asked, catching his eye from the bottom of the stairs. “You seem a bit… nervous.”

Maybe his anxiety was doing a better job of hiding his secret than the perfume.

“Just a little wool between my ears this morning,” the bard laughed brightly, ignoring the searing pain that throbbed through his chest with the movement, “I think I might go chop some wood and see if the brisk mountain air helps clear it out faster.”

“Hmm,” the eldest Wolf nodded sagely. There was no doubt which teacher Geralt had admired most as a pup. “Alright. Be safe, take care. I’ll send someone to fetch you when breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Vesemir,” Jaskier bowed shallowly and headed for the kitchen’s back door. He took the axe into his hands and tried not to sway on his feet from the added weight. The bard covered his tracks by throwing a smile back over his shoulder and pushing the door open. “See you for breakfast!”

He stepped out of the keep and let the heavy slab of wood slam shut behind him. The early morning sky above Kaer Morhen was cloudless and the sun was bright, blinding him entirely. His situation only worsened when the sudden change in temperature, from the warm kitchen to the freezing mountainside, punched the air from his lungs in one thick cloud. He struggled to regain it as he wove his way through the snow drifts to the woodpile. Slowly, and with great effort, Jaskier lined up a thick log to be split.

The world felt watery and far away. His hand, which he knew to be attached to the end of his arm by some miracle, would not obey his command to pick up the axe again. His lungs felt heavy in his chest cavity and his legs suddenly ached with a fierce intensity.

With a quiet cry of protest against his own body failing him, Jaskier collapsed into the snow.

---

Jaskier’s heartbeat was so slow and quiet, his limbs unmoving and his lips nearly blue from the cold; Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever been so scared before in his life. He turned to Vesemir and asked, barely keeping the frantic terror from clawing its way out of his throat: “How long was he out there?”

“Half an hour at most,” the grey Wolf shrugged. “I don’t really remember, Geralt. I was busy taking care of the breakfast arrangements.”

“Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Eskel ordered. He frowned at Geralt from his place at Jaskier’s opposite side. He’d helped carry the bard from the courtyard to Geralt’s room and was just as worried about the human’s wellbeing. “Panicking won’t help him. Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s hard to tell over all that stupid perfume,” Lambert snarled. “Stupid fucking bard fucking knew we would be able to smell it on him. He covered his gods-damned tracks.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmured, having grown suddenly calm. He let the back of his knuckles drag softly across the bard’s too-hot cheek until he could stick a stray lock of sweaty brown hair back behind his ear. “You idiot.”

The bard shifted against the blanket they’d laid him on, his brow wrinkling. His arms twitched slightly, as if he was trying to move them, and he whined plaintively: “G’ralt.”

“I’m here, Jask,” the Witcher replied quickly, forgetting they weren’t alone in the room. He took one of the bard’s freezing hands into his own and began rubbing the warmth back into his fingers. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you better. You’ll be alright.”

“Who are you trying to reassure?” Lambert huffed a short laugh. “You or the bard?”

“Leave off,” Eskel shot his younger brother a glare. The redhead rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the wall near the door. Eskel continued speaking to Lambert, but his eyes were back on Jaskier, who kept trying to get closer to Geralt even in his sleep. “Why don’t you go grab some clean clothes from his room while we get him warmed up and conscious again.”

“Fine,” Lambert spat. But he took off at a quick trot, regardless.

“Geralt, get his wet clothes off and get him wrapped up. Eskel, you come with me to the kitchen. I’ll need help carrying things and I’m sure the bard would prefer some privacy in this particular matter.”

Eskel nodded his agreement and followed Vesemir from the room, leaving Geralt alone with Jaskier. The White Wolf hurried to undress and swaddle the bard with a warm, heavy wool blanket and several furs, talking all the while in a low, worried voice. “Fuck, Jaskier. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened and that you- Why did you hide it? Why wouldn’t you- Are you afraid of me? Is that why you didn’t come to me for help?”

Jaskier’s lids fluttered open and Geralt watched with nervous anticipation as two of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, blue as cornflowers and brighter than the spring sky, tried their best to focus on his face. “Geralt?”

“I’m here, Jaskier. What’s ailing you? Please, tell me how I can help you.”

“Hurts,” the bard managed to groan. “To breathe.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growled. “We need to get you warm. Lambert should be back with your clothes by now.”

Jaskier’s head lolled back against the pillow and he struggled to reach for his Witcher, “Hold me.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll warm up-” he gasped between words, as if every syllable pained him to expel “-faster if… you hold me.”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s brows furrowed in frustration. He knew Jaskier was right, that he’d feel better faster with skin-on-skin contact, but he also wanted to hold Jaskier for other, less emergency-based reasons. That was unacceptable. Losing Jaskier to death or sickness or other human reasons was intolerable but losing him, in all senses of the word, because of Geralt’s impossible feelings? That would be truly horrendous.

The warring factions of his heart were still clamoring over a decision when Eskel and Vesemir re-entered carrying two large trays. One was covered with foodstuffs and the other held an enormous clay teapot and mugs. A small pot of honey, gathered from Vesemir’s very own beehives, was the most obvious sign of affection Geralt had ever seen the older man display for a near-stranger.

“I’m gonna… get… spoiled,” Jaskier gasped. The eldest Wolf shot Geralt a glare.

“Why aren’t you in there with him? You know the best way to warm up a hypothermic person is skin contact, Geralt! I certainly taught you better than this.”

“I didn’t-” he stuttered. “I wasn’t-”

“He’s afraid,” Jaskier smiled sadly, cuddling himself deeper into the furs as he turned his gaze towards the fire. All three of the Witchers could smell his sadness, even more potent than the illness ravaging his delicate human body. Geralt winced when his brother and father glared at him in tandem, expressions nearly matching in fury. The bard was still looking away, watching the flames send dancing patterns of light against the stone walls. “Don’t worry… won’t ask… for any more.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispered, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “May I hold you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Vesemir smiled beneath his mustache. Jaskier was too tired to blush, and opted to bury his head in Geralt’s shoulder instead. “Come along, Eskel. Let’s see what Lambert has gotten up to.”

“What about Jaskier’s clothes?”

“He can borrow Geralt’s for now. I’m sure our White Wolf won’t mind sharing; he’s the possessive type, after all.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and grumbled out of habit more than disagreement.

When Vesemir and Eskel had gone for good and the door was closed, Geralt pulled Jaskier out of the furs and removed his own shirt. He settled the bard against his chest and buried his nose in Jaskier’s dark hair, breathing in the scents of sweat and sickness and now, thank the gods, tangy-bright happiness. “Gods, Jaskier. Don’t scare me like that ever again. I can’t lose you.”

“I didn’t… want… to disappoint.”

“You never do and never will,” Geralt intoned. He pulled the furs over them both and splayed his large hands across Jaskier’s back. The bard’s skin was overly hot in some places and freezing in others; Geralt buried his panic in order to care for... for the man he loved. He took a deep breath and rubbed slow circles between the bard’s shoulder blades. “I… I love you, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” the bard hummed tunelessly. “Love you… too.”

Geralt helped him sit up and drink a mug of tea. He listened, slowly allowing himself to relax, as Jaskier’s breathing eased and his heartbeat balanced. When the tea was gone and the fire was re-built to Geralt’s satisfaction, the Witcher tucked Jaskier’s head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around the bard’s shoulders. “Oh, my little lark. I’ve been so foolish for too long.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier grinned into the Witcher’s warm pectoral. “Me... too.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time when you feel better,” Geralt murmured, lips pressing over and over to the top of the bard’s head. Jaskier couldn’t keep himself from smiling, even as he drifted back to sleep. The Witcher felt something settle in his chest when he whispered: “Rest up, dear heart. There are many more adventures to be had.”

#geraskier #sickfic #geraskier sickfic #geraskier fluff #getting together #bouncey's endless getting together fics #jaskier whump #winter at kaer morhen #wifey's prompts #comfy's prompts #anything for you boo #geraskier fluffiness #geraskier ficlet

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“Similar Tastes”

An enemies to lovers classic. You and Harry are too similar for you to ever get along...maybe

Hi hi! This is for @majorharry’s 20k celebration writing !!! Hope you all enjoy, I always love to hear from you :)))

The prompts I used: “How about you get off my dick” and “Sorry, I didn’t know”

This gif bc Harry “oh god that’s TEQUILA” Styles is king

Fluff? Smut? But definitely angst? Idk how to describe it bahaha a little bit of everything

Word Count: 4.0k | Warnings: language (there are actually two slurs in this - they’re bisexual slurs and they’re said by the bad guy so just take that into consideration), mature content (not quite smut but y’know), alcohol consumption, girl kissing girl at one point

Pt. 2 is up!

Saturday night. It was finally time to go out with your group of friends and you couldn’t be happier. Well, you could, but what would make you that happy wasn’t possible. If one of the people in your friend group wasn’t there. That would make you the happiest.

Almost everyone has that one person in your friend group who you can’t stand. Like, at first you don’t really know them and then as you get to know them more you just can’t stand them.

For you that was Harry.

While neither of you would admit why you hated each other, it was obviously about how everyone would always compare the two of you. You had practically identical personalities, and had similar fashion taste. At first, everyone else thought you would end up together because it seemed like you were perfectly matched. But the first time someone said, “Oh, Harry, your jacket looks just like the one Y/N wore last week.” Both of you had seethed in complete dissatisfaction.

Naturally, Harry took his jacket off early in that evening and you never wore yours again. You hated being compared to Harry, being told he had made a similar joke or said the same thing about something made you want to reevaluate your entire value system. Maybe it was because you both had such an individualistic mindset, but neither of you enjoyed being compared to anyone and that’s what made it all the worse when people chose to compare you to each other. It boiled down to both of you wanting to be the best at everything - the most unique, rather - that made you dislike the other so much.

So, tonight at the bar, as your group rattled in from the street, you stuck close to your pals at the front while Harry was chatting with someone near the back of the pack. Your eyes had met briefly when you’d seen each other’s outfits. Harry’s a half unbuttoned Gucci cream dress shirt, that was rolled to his elbows, tucked into high waisted navy trousers finished with cream boots and yours a navy bra top with a faux collar and a deep cut to show your cleavage paired with cream high waisted pleated pants and navy loafers. Not exactly the same, but if you had stood next to one another it would have looked planned. You rolled your eyes at him as he narrowed his towards you. You couldn’t wait to order a few drinks and let loose after a hard week at work.

As you all approached a booth, somehow the group shifted and Harry and you were suddenly side by side as everyone was getting in the booth. Then, you were sitting and Harry was right beside you. He tried to cover his groan of annoyance when he realized he’d have to be sitting next to you, once again regarding your outfit with disdain. Your only response was glaring at him. The friend who you had been talking to, Marie, placed her hand over your ring-clad one, that was now gripping the side of the table out of annoyance. “Play nice,” she said. You relaxed at her touch trying to refocus on the purpose of the night, fun.

Soon, a waitress made it to your table and smiled sweetly at all your bright faces. Harry and you were located to her left, and her eyes reached you last.

“Oh! You two are too cute! I love when couples coordinate their outfits!”

Harry’s eyes bulged out of his head and you gave a tight-lipped smile as you tried to keep yourself from having a blood vessel pop in your eye right then.

“We’re not” you began, Harry cut you off, “together, love.”

His expression changed as he smirked up at the waitress, trying to make it clear that he was very much single.

“Oh! My apologies...So what can I get everyone?”

As she began to take the orders, you shoved your elbow into Harry’s rib. You did it for two reasons, for him cutting you off when you were talking and for being so on top of you in the booth.

He turned to you, “The fuck was that for?”

“For being an asshole.”

“Excuse me?”

As you’re about to go off on him about being rude, Marie taps your hand and you realize it's your turn to order.

You clear your throat, trying to shake off your angry tone, “Tequila on the rocks, please.”

The waitress nods and then turns to smile at Harry, he gives you side eyes of disdain, “What’s your most expensive tequila?”

Her smile grew, “We’ve got Don Julio Real and Gran Patron for top shelf.”

“Don Julio on the rocks, please.” He winked.

She nods, scribbling something on her notepad, “Oh! Would you like Don Julio as well?” she returns to you.

You shook your head, “No. Jose Cuervo works just fine,” and glared at Harry once more.

Of course he would ask for top shelf, you thought. Harry couldn't have gotten through saying the exact same order as you, especially after the waitress had already pointed out the similarity in your clothes.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Being in such close proximity to Harry made you incapable of leaving the bickering alone. Everyone else always ignored when the two of you really got into it, because it honestly wasn’t that interesting. Like an old married couple, though none of them would ever dare say it.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Y/N?”

You scoffed as he turned in his seat to look at you. “Oh, please, you just couldn’t handle ordering the same thing as me. You had to flex that you could order Don Julio!”

“You’re just upset because you can’t.”

“Come off it! I could, but I don’t feel the need to boost my ego by showing off to the waitress that I can afford the expensive stuff.” You laughed at his attempt at snubbing you about what you can and can’t afford.

His eyes darkened and flashed at you and you could see it even in the dim lighting off the bar. “I wasn’t trying to show off, it’s not my fault you don’t care to drink the good stuff.”

“Okay, Harry,” you say sarcastically, waving him off.

He huffed, annoyed that you were the only person he was sitting next to. He had to call across the table if he wanted to speak to anyone that wouldn’t involve you being completely in the way. As he was about to call out to Mitch who was directly across from him, the waitress returned with everyone’s drinks.

“Jose Cuervo on the rocks! And Don Julio on the rocks!” She beamed at the group after finishing handing them out.

Everyone thanked her and she disappeared. You and Harry simultaneously took sips of your drinks.

You wrinkled your nose, “This isn’t Jose Cuervo…”

Harry placed his drink on his coaster and swallowed, licking his lips he said, “I think mine is, tastes cheap.”

“You’re really an ass,” you say as you shove your misgiven drink to him and snatch his from the table instead.

Harry growing tired of your arguing already, “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he rolled his eyes and took a larger sip of the correct drink.

You take a sip of your own drink and sigh again, “This isn’t even tequila, what the fuck?”

“Ah, no wonder it tasted like shit. What do you think it is?”

“Well, considering there’s only, like, a handful of clear hard liquors besides silver tequila, probably vodka, idiot,” you breathed the last word under your breath, still Harry stared at you with daggers in his eyes. You weren’t actually sure how many other liquors it could be, but you were so pissed off by the whole situation you just wanted to make him shut up.

“Well that’s a bummer, kid. Maybe next time, order a better tequila and she’ll get it right.”

You shoved him, not wanting to wait for the waitress to come back to fix her mistake, “How about you get off my dick and then I can go get something worth drinking?”

Harry huffed as he slowly moved his body up from his seat, yet he stayed so close to the opening of the booth you were practically chest to chest when you slipped out. Due to that, and maybe a little bit on purpose, you knocked your drink forward to get a small amount on him. Not enough for him to be drenched, but enough to bug him for the rest of the night.

“Oops?” you tilted your head and held a sickeningly sweet smile on your face as you looked at his taken aback look. His prominent jaw had dropped as the cold liquid had pooled over his left breast pocket, some of his tattoos now much more visible. You quickly turned on your heel and bounced off to the bar. Harry grumbled and sat back down, Marie leaned over with a napkin, trying to dry him off a bit.

With a fresh drink in hand you weaved back to the table, all your friends were laughing together at something Harry had seemingly said. When you arrived everyone beamed up at you, far more jovial after a few sips of their drinks. Only Harry’s face was sour, but you chose to ignore it and smile at your friends, waiting for Harry to get up to let you into your seat that he had occupied in your absence. When he didn’t, your face began to fall from its smile.

“Are you going to get up?”

“No, just take that seat,” he waves his hand beside him, trying to go back to the conversation he was engaging in before you had arrived.

“But, you’re in my seat,” you pushed.

“You’re the one who decided to get up and leave it.”

“You cannot be serious, Harry.”

“As a heart attack,” he said flatly, and then turned his head to Sarah who was next to Marie.

You looked around the table for help, Mitch gave a slight sad smile like he felt bad, but everyone knew there was no changing Harry’s mind. You knew you didn’t have the strength to yank his large, muscled body out of the booth, so you resigned and took his old seat. There, you kicked Harry’s leg harshly and took a long sip of your alcohol, just wanting to get drunk enough to want to dance and then not be near Harry.

After a second round of drinks, this time the waitress getting your order right, you were feeling better. Harry and you were largely ignoring each other and laughing along with the rest of your friends to some story. Every so often his leg would open up and bump into yours and you’d hit back at it harder, his eyes sliding to your face for a moment and then looking away. He made you so hot with anger and the closeness of bodies in that bar already had the temperature way too high. You gulped at your drink, trying to cool down, but it only had the opposite effect, the alcohol mixing with your blood, heating up your insides, as well.

Then, once the third round of drinks were served, Marie suggested it was time to dance, commenting that some random song that was currently playing was ‘her favorite’. It wasn’t, but whenever she got drunk, every song was ‘her favorite’. However, you were all happy to oblige, feeling restless as the alcohol was buzzing in your systems.

Out on the dance floor, some of the couples in your friend group paired off to dance on each other while the rest of you spread out. You spotted a woman in the crowd wearing a sequin dress that looked absolutely gorgeous on her, her blonde hair reminding you of some rocker chick in the 70’s. While making your way towards her, Harry tried to get in front of you, obviously making his way to her as well.

Another thing Harry and you had in common, the people you typically went for - men and women. Shaking him off with a hand on his chest and a glare, you reached her first and she smiled at you as you complimented her outfit and began to dance with her. Harry resigned to staying with some of your other friend’s when he saw how the woman threw her head back at something you said to her. Soon, she was grinding herself against your front, your lips attached to her neck, hands on her hips.

Feeling particularly happy with yourself, your gaze flitted around the crowded dance floor. Eyes scanning those around you, you soon made eye contact with Harry, who actually wasn’t that far off. His eyes looked a more dull green in the light and he rolled them when he saw you looking up from your place against the beautiful woman. While he still looked on at your languid figures pressed together, you teased your tongue up her neck a bit, causing the woman to keen into your touch. As Harry was about to look away, shaking his head at your antics, he caught sight of a guy approaching you and the other woman.

He said something to the pair of you, but you couldn’t hear him. The woman had opened her eyes to look at the guy and you had removed your lips from her, shaking your head that you didn’t catch what he said.

He repeated himself, yelling this time, “Fauxbians out here trying to catch a real man! How ‘bout we make you total lugs!”

He was loud enough for your friends to hear, including Harry who had been watching the whole scene play out. He pushed through the crowd to get to your side, he might not like you, but he couldn’t stand someone who was homophobic, or biphobic, in this case. You pushed the woman off of you and to the side, she was clearly upset and you weren’t going to let what the guy said slide.

“What the fuck, man? You think it’s okay to say shit like that to people? What year are you living in, like for real?”

As you were about to start really ripping into him, you felt Harry’s presence beside you. You looked over and he looked angry, like really angry, not annoyed or exasperated as he usually did with you. Angry like he was about to grab this guy by the shirt and start pummeling him. Even with all the alcohol in your system, you knew that wouldn’t actually help the situation, even if you did want someone to wipe the smug look off this guy’s face, which had only grown worse since you’d started yelling at him. It was like this stranger was getting off on making these two women in front of him uncomfortable and upset.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Harry spat at the guy.

“Harry,” you turned your body towards him and put your hand on his chest, placing yourself between him and the rude guy, “I’m not letting you get into a fight over what he said. It’s not worth it.”

He had pushed himself almost against this guy, Harry easily hovering over him. Harry looked down at you and then back to the guy, who was chuckling to himself, stepping back from the scene.

He seethed, “You disgust me,” he looked at the man. “Just crawl back into whatever hole your sorry ass came out of.”

The guy just laughed and walked off. Harry looked down at you, his eyes softening instantly. You couldn’t exactly distinguish the look he gave you, you just knew it was something you’d never seen directed at you.

Your brow remained furrowed as you looked at him, then he said, “Let’s get some air.”

You looked around the room for your sequined dress woman, but she was nowhere to be found. So you let Harry take you by the hand out the side exit, to the bar’s alleyway.

Outside, you immediately brought your hands to rub over your exposed arms, the tiny sleeves of your shirt not being enough to brave the brisk night air. The altercation had shaken you up quite a bit and immediately sobered you. Harry stepped closer to you out of instinct, seeing you were shivering, but having nothing to offer warmth except himself. The two of you leaned against the bar’s outer wall and took a few deep breaths.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, voice slightly hoarse from yelling in the loud bar.

“Fine. You?”

Why was he being so nice, you were surprised he had stepped in at all, but now he was checking in on you past that, it was confusing.

“Of course. You didn’t even let me get a single swing in.”

You scrunched your face at his comment regarding violence. “Why did you even come over? I can handle myself,” you asked, suddenly feeling the normalcy of bickering settle between the two of you.

Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. His pectoral muscles slightly shifted and pushed around his cross pendant in the center of his chest.

“Because he was a dick,” he started, then sighed, “And because I can’t just let some homophobe say a bunch of slurs to my friend.”

Your eyes grew wide and shown in the street lamp, as they looked up into Harry’s green ones. He was slightly sweaty from the bar, but it was quickly drying and leaving a slight sparkle on his skin. His jaw was tensed, as he tried to maintain eye contact with you. You remained silent, unaware how to respond to his statement that he did, despite much evidence saying otherwise, care about you.

Harry decided to continue, “You might piss me off, like all the time, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for a random asshole to say that kind of shit to you.”

“I’m your friend?” you circled back to what he had said earlier. Your voice was small and also hoarse from yelling in the bar.

“Of course, Y/N, what the fuck?”

“I thought...I guess I never saw it that way.”

“Harsh.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know competing all the time and being annoyed with each other was friendship.” You shifted closer to Harry, your words dripping in sarcasm. Even now, as the two of you checked in on each other and talked about your friendship, you managed to fight.

“That’s just because you’re constantly infuriating me and getting us into fights,” Harry smirked, tapping a finger on your cold nose.

“I think you’ve got it backwards, there, Har,” you winked.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shrugged and pressed closer to you.

Neither of you were very clear on what your bodies were doing, slowly moving so that you had your back against the wall and Harry’s hips were pressed up against yours.

“It’s not my fault you’re always jealous of me,” you breathe, his face inches from yours.

Harry snorted a laugh out of his nose, his eyes slowly blinking and looking away from you, before staring directly at you. “Oh, please, now who has it backwards?” His right arm went up beside your head and his hand rested on the cold stone next to you. His breath, from his laughter and words, fanning over your face, made you close your eyes at the warmth.

You moved both of your hands up to his chest, and he looked down at the movement. One moved up to grip his shoulder and the other fiddled with the cross that had caught your attention when he had folded his arms.

After a beat, Harry said your name, barely above a whisper. Your head tilted up, looking up at him questioningly. You didn’t really understand the position the two of you had shifted yourselves into. “Can I kiss you?” Harry asked.

“Do you want to?”

“Kind of…” He ran a finger over your cheekbone.

Your eyes danced with mischief “Why?”

“Are you serious?” Harry asked in slight disbelief.

“As a heart attack,” you said gravely, throwing the words he had used earlier back at him. He sighed a slight laugh.

“Like I said, infuriating…”

Just as he was about to pull away, you reached up and connected your lips with his. Your hand cupped his strong jaw and brought him closer to you. His warm, wet lips pushed against yours with vigor. There was passion in the kiss. A constant push and pull for who got to be in control. You sucked on his lower lip, trying to get him to open up his mouth, but he declined.

He pressed you further onto the wall, while cradling your head to keep it from knocking against the concrete. His teeth nipped at your lip after a few more moments of fervent open mouth kisses without tongue. You resigned to not getting your way and let his tongue lick into you. Your tongue pressed against his as the two of you continued kissing. While his mouth was harsh, the rest of his touch was mostly soft. The hand that didn’t cradle your head was rubbing up and down your side, only venturing down to your bottom occasionally and squeezing quickly.

Finally, he pulled back, gasping slightly for air. He then rested his forehead against yours and you looked at him from beneath your lashes. One of your hands was now twisted in his curls, while the other was gripping his shirt, over the dried vodka spill from earlier. You smiled as you exhaled a big breath. Harry chuckled giddily.

“That was hot,” you said.

“Y’know, having similar tastes...might not be such a bad thing after all.”

“Knowing us we probably like all the same things…” you trailed off, blushing at the suggestion.

“Why don’t we find out sometime,” Harry winked before brushing his lips against yours once more.

Pecks weren’t possible for either of you though, both of you furiously pressing back together, hungry for more of the heat that came from you kissing.

“That’d be nice,” you whimpered against his lips.

“I think it’d be more than nice…” Harry brought his head down to suck on a part of your exposed cleavage, one of his legs pressed between yours, pushing slightly up into your heat. A strangled moan left your lips as you tried to stifle it. Harry chuckled, his face moved up to right beside your ear, “You’d probably love to have me take you right here, huh?”

His leg pressed up into you and your body automatically grinded down on the pressure. The alcohol and sexual grinding from earlier had gotten you horny and the making out with Harry had definitely heightened your desire.

“But we both know you can’t,” you gained your strength and pressed a little on his shoulders.

As much as you desired Harry right now and he seemed to desire you, as well, he was right. You two were extremely similar and would never actually have sex in a bar alleyway, as much as you might want to in the moment. You both laughed, releasing the sexual tension that was surrounding you.

“I know, but it’s fun to pretend we could...How about we go to my place and see what other fantasies we share?” Harry twisted a strand of your hair in his large hand.

“For once, I’m happy to be on the same page as you, Harry,” you grinned. He picked you up and spun you around, making you shriek in laughter, before heading back into the bar to gather your stuff.

You were quick to scurry out of the bar after telling your friends you were both leaving, tired from everything that had happened. Everyone simply nodded, but the minute you were far enough away they all snickered about the lipstick smeared on the corners of Harry’s lips and your terribly mused hair. Mitch even placed a twenty in the palm of Sarah’s open hand, shaking his head in defeat.

Tag list: @cronias13 @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @harrxier @harrys-cherrry @sltwins @awesomebooklover17 @harrys-stan

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #majorharry20k #please enjoy #and give feedback #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry rec #fic rec

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thelargefrye · 3 years

Text

YEARNING FOR YOU. kang yeosang (18+)

── summary. you’re just within reach and yet every time he tries to get to you, you vanish right before his eyes... again and again and again.

── roles. mage!yeosang + mage!f!reader (ft. poly!mage!ateez & other idols)

── genre. smut + one-shot + mages + magic shop + supernatural + mythology + historical to modern day + romance + eventual poly relationship + angst + drama + reincarnation (most of these are for the overall story not necessarily this one-shot)

── word count. 3.3k

── warnings. nightmares + language + sub!yeosang & dom!reader + kissing + little hair pulling + one moment of spanking + anal fingering + handjob + degrading + amazon position + y/n is mentioned to have tattoos

── developer’s note. happy birthday @atiny-piratequeen !! this is just a small something that i’m working on that’s inspired by against the tide !! i figured that since i probably might not get the whole story done by your birthday bc i’ve already been working on it for two weeks and i’m only still doing world and backstory building rip then i would just share a small piece that included yeosang. i’m still working on characters and personalities so anything you read here is subject to change by the time i get the first official chapter out.

when the door to the shop chimed, yeosang didn’t bother looking up from his book he was reading. he knew that usually customers – humans at least – would just look around before leaving or come up to mindlessly flirt with him. it was the same thing every time the bell dinged.

he could hear the customer’s shoes, heels to be exact, softly thudding across the old wooden floors as they strolled around the small shop. his hearing could pick up where exactly in the shop they were, so when they finally started nearing the back to where he and register were, he assumed this customer just wanted to flirt with him like always.

“um, excuse me,” yeosang’s head shot up immediately at the sound of the familiar voice. you stood in front of him also with a look of shock from how quickly yeosang moved and his eyes flickered down to the canvas in your arms.

“o-oh, um, hi. how can i... how can i help you,” yeosang says as he tries his best to relax, but honestly he doesn’t think he can, not when you’re here in front of him and talking to him.

you smile softly at him before handing over the canvas you had in your hands, “this is the painting hongjoong asked me to paint. he told me i could find him and the rest of you here. is he, um, is he here by any chance?”

“huh? oh, yeah is he, let me go get him!” yeosang had never moved so fast before as he practically jumped off his stool and ran to the back to get the group’s leader and tell him you’re here.

“y/n’s here!” yeosang says probably a bit too loudly and maybe just a little too excitedly but he hasn’t seen you in centuries. he has a right to be happy to see his missing lover.

hongjoong isn’t by himself in the back, all the others are basically here too, except for jongho and san who had gone out to get information on how to help you remember your first life.

“she is? why?” mingi asks, a look of shock drawn on his face knowing you’re here just in the other room.

“she brought the painting hongjoong asked her to paint,” yeosang says and hongjoong is quick to go to the front and yeosang picks up on how hongjoong greets you with a cheery tone.

at first yeosang thinks about staying in the back and letting you and hongjoong talk for a moment, but his need to see you again overcomes that he heads back to the front of the shop. he hears the others coming up behind him as he does and he figures the others couldn’t wait either.

a wave of memories washes over him as he sees you and hongjoong interacting so closely. all the times he would see you and hongjoong interacting on the utopia, all the lingering stares and touches you thought no one else saw, but in reality everyone saw.

he misses you. they all miss you.

“wow, y/n, this is beautiful,” hongjoong can’t take his eyes off the painting you gave him and you have a proud look on your face as your eyes flicker between the male and the painting before you slowly look up and over at where him and the others are.

“oh, i didn’t know you all worked here as well!” you say and greeted them all with a smile.

“i actually own this shop,” hongjoong says and you turn to look at him in shock. “my grandmother ran this shop before passing it down to me before she retired.” yeosang couldn’t help but slightly snicker at how hongjoong called hyuna a grandmother.

“really? that’s so cool! i had actually never been in this shop before until today,” you offhandedly as you glance around the shop some more. “oh!” you say catching the six males off guard as they watched you dig through your bag before pulling out eight envelopes. “siyeon is throwing a party and wants me to invite you all!” you say handing each other an invitation before giving jongho and san’s to wooyoung. “i hope you all can make it!”

“of course! we’ll do our best to be there,” hongjoong says, but yeosang knows that all eight of them are definitely going especially since you’re going to be there. “also, thank you again for the painting, it really is beautiful.”

“oh, of course! i’m glad you like it, i always enjoy painting sea related stuff, so this was a blast to paint,” you explain with a small laugh. “well, i should be going! i promised siyeon i would help her with party decisions, so... i’ll see you all around,” you say bidding the males goodbye before turning on your heels and leaving the shop.

yeah, yeosang and the other are gonna have to work fast.

𐂴𐂴𐂴

sometimes when yeosang misses you, he’ll find himself remembering the time when you all were together on the utopia. he’ll remember how you use to help him in the kitchen, acting as both a hand and taste-tester to him.

all the heated gazes the two of you shared being the reason for his flushed face that he would blame on the heat in the kitchen when the others would question him. although he was sure the others didn’t believe because his magic dealt with fire, so some kitchen heat was nothing for him.

but no matter what the same thought still comes to him. he just misses you. he thinks that over and over again until he falls asleep and you appear in his dreams.

it’s silly he knows it, mainly using his magic in order to ensure that you appear to him. he has sweet dreams when you are with him and others all enjoying your time together; however, the moment he remembers that none of it is real and that you are living a completely different life without remembering them, without remembering him. it all turns into a nightmare.

and its always the same. the same day he and the others are forced to remember and sometimes relive again and again for centuries.

“yeosang, wake up!”

his eyes snap open and he feels hot, his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat and his eyes are immediately trying to get used to the darkness of his bedroom.

that voice... he thinks as he brings his hands up to cover his face. huh? was he crying?

“yeosang,” he hears it again and sounds so close to him. right next to him and he feels like he’s still dreaming. but he turns his head and his brown orbs meet your own worried eyes as you sit next to him in his bed.

“y/n...?” he reaches out to touch your cheek, his hands caressing your face and he gasps when he realizes you’re real and next to him.

“why are you crying, love?” you ask him watching as he sits up. you reach over to brush his tears away before he suddenly takes you in his arms. “did you have a bad dream, yeo?”

yeosang doesn’t trust his words so he just nods his head as he nuzzles his head into your neck. “it’s okay,” you say softly, rubbing his back in comfort, “i’m here and nothings going to happen while i’m here. i promise.”

yeosang has heard you say those words before and it only makes him cry harder. you said that to him the first time you woke him up from a nightmare. you would always take him into your arms and hold him and wipe away his tears and tell him it’s okay and it’s all in the past.

when yeosang does finally calm down, tears no longer running down his face, he slowly pulls away from you to lay back down. you lay down right next to him, pulling the blanket up to your chins as you brush hair away from his face.

“i love you,” he says as he feels himself slowly falling back to sleep. you smile sadly at him, a hand still running through his hair as his eyes finally close.

𐂴𐂴𐂴

seonghwa was jealous, yeosang was 100% sure of that. the ice mage’s glare could probably set someone ablaze if he had fire magic instead. and honestly, yeosang doesn’t blame his boyfriend for being jealous because he was as well.

“and who the hell is that?” wooyoung was the one who spoke up, shocked like seonghwa and himself at the sight of you talking to this unknown male.

well, unknown to them at least. you seemed to be pretty close to the male, too close if yeosang or any of the others could say anything.

“do you think they’re...” mingi didn’t want to say it out loud, probably knowing how much chaos he would cause among them if he did.

yeosang wanted to be upset. upset at you for potentially going and falling in love with someone that isn’t them, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t be upset at you because this you, the one standing not too far from him and his seven lovers, this you isn’t the same you he met all those centuries ago.

you don’t remember the love you shared and it broke yeosang’s heart.

his eyes flickered over to seonghwa noticing the furrow in his eyebrows before he looks over to hongjoong who is just staring at you with sadness. then his eyes go back to you and this male who are sitting closely next to each other. the guy looks at you with such a softness that it reminds the fire mage of how seonghwa looks at all of them, with love.

the male plays with the ends of your hair, running it over your face in a teasing manner that makes you laugh and yeosang would be lying if he said your laugh didn’t make his heart flutter.

yeosang misses you.

𐂴𐂴𐂴

yeosang can’t help but sigh as soon as his body hit his bedsheets. he felt clean and relaxed after a long day of working in the shop below them and dealing with both humans and supernatural creatures alike.

while he was staring up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes and started to doze off. he’s not sure for how long his eyes were closed, but he only opens them when he feels his bed dip.

looking over he was greeted by the sight of you in little to no clothing and a warm smile on your face.

“y/n, what are you doing?” yeosang was more than surprised to see you in his room. he was quick to sit up with a shocked expression as he moved so he was sitting right across from you.

“what do you mean, yeo? i’m visiting you of course!” you say cheerfully.

yeosang looked over you and he noticed the familiar tattoos that decorated your right arm. “you’re not real, are you?” he asked as he bowed his head so you couldn’t see his face.

one of your fingers reached under to tilt his chin up and you looked at him with a gaze, “i’m as real as you want me to be,” you say with a smile as you leaned over and kissed him.

yeosang immediately allowed you to take the lead. your lips guiding his as you ran a hand threw his hair and gently tugged on it causing yeosang to moan into your mouth as your tongue explored his mouth and while also teasingly play with his own wet muscle.

yeosang was melting into the kiss, his hands coming up to your waist to pull you closer to him with your chest flushed tightly against his. when you pulled away from the kiss, yeosang tried to follow after your lips making you let out a small laugh at how cute he was acting.

yeosang only looked at you with slightly dazed eyes, still not fully believing you are here in front of him which allowed you to push at his shoulders, making him fall on his back and into the softness of the bed.

“y/n... please,” he whines as you hover over him slightly, both your hands caging his head to the bed as you look down at him.

“what yeo? what do you want me to do?” you ask with a teasing smile, god, he hasn’t seen this smile in centuries.

“p-please, please fuck me,” he chokes out and your smile turns into a grin as you trail your finger down the center of his body before it stops at the towel he still had wrapped around his waist.

“want me to take it off?” he nods without hesitation, “words.”

“yes!” and the towel was unwrapped from his hips and now he was completely bare to you. his cock was only semi-hard when you removed the towel and yeosang watched as your fingers ghosted over the tip, just barely grazing it. “please touch me, don’t tease me,” he begs and you hum before wrapping your hand around his cock and slowly began stroking it until it was fully hard and an angry red, his pre-cum only just slowly starting to appear at his tip.

he let out a string of whines and curses as you began moving your hand suddenly at a fast pace without warning. yeosang’s back arched off the bed, but your free hand came down to hold him still to the bed before you suddenly stop stroking him.

yeosang watches you as you move in between his legs before grabbing the underside of his thighs, giving them a good squeeze before hoisting them up to his chest. when you let go of his legs, yeosang immediately went to hold them in place as his face was flushed a bright red.

you cooed at him as you leaned over his bent body and kissed him before pulling away to look at his ass that was now on full display for you. his hole tight and pink as you played with it, wiggling just the tip of your index into him before pulling out.

“you’re so tight yeo, does none our boys fuck you open enough?” yeosang moaned at the degrading tone you had laced in your voice. “that’s okay though,” you begin adding a firm smack to both his asscheeks, “i can just fuck you open myself.”

yeosang wanted to come with there and then at your words, but he only settled for letting out a few moans instead. he knew the minute he came then it would all be over. he watched you quickly stand up and go over to his bedside table and dug through the draw before pulling out a bottle of lube.

yeosang watched as you squeezed the clear liquid substance into your palm before he felt you apply it to his hole. he moaned at the cold feeling it gave him as you rubbed it around his puckered hole before applying more to your fingers. fuck, he couldn’t hold his excitement as he felt your index probe at him before slowly slipping inside him.

“f-fuck– oh god, please!” he moaned out, throwing his head back as you eased him open. your movements were slow, almost too slow as if you were messing with him and he looked over to meet your eyes.

when you finally entered a second finger he felt his eye roll back as you started to pick up the pace a bit in your thrusting. yeosang let out a broken fuck as you slowly started hitting his prostate before grabbing his dick with your free hand and stroked him in time to your fingers thrusting in and out of him.

“does that feel good?” you ask and yeosang can only nod as his head fell back onto the bed. you frown at his nonverbal response and quickly stop both your hands making his whine as you remove your finger from him. “i asked a question yeosang, so answer it,” your voice sent a chill down his back as if it was seonghwa speaking to him.

“it does, it feels good,” he says, face burning red, “b-but...”

“but what? what do you want?”

“please, let m-me... let me be inside you,” he says and you coo once more at him before you lean over him once more. your nose brushing his from how close you are.

“do you deserve to be inside me? you may have a nice dick, but do you think you can use it to pleasure me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and yeosang felt his dick twitch from between the two of you at you questioning tone.

“p-please, y/n, please u-use me to pleasure you,” he says out of breath and you let out a small laugh as you sat up and slowly grind down on his dick. the fabric of your underwear slightly damp from your growing wetness and causes yeosang to moan at knowing how close he was actual to you.

“do the others know how much of slut you are?” you ask with a small laugh, “i’m sure they know how much you like to be used. hm, don’t they?”

“t-they do,” yeosang stutters out as he watches you move off of him to take your underwear off and he feels a chill run down his spine as you hover back on top of him to take his dick in your hand a position it at your entrance.

“is this what you want?”

“y-yes!” you smile as you sink down on his length with a moan. yeosang lets his mouth drop open as you start to bounce on his length, the sound of your skin meeting his joining the sound of his and your moans.

“f-fuck, yeosang!” you moan as yeosang takes you all in. his eyes fall on your chest which was still covered and he lets his legs go for a moment in order to unclasp your bra. you take your bra off and throw to the side now allowing yeosang the ability to see you completely bare now.

god, how he missed this sight and he was glad you were using his legs as support for yourself because this allowed him to roam his hands over your body.

getting lost in his pleasure he accidentally thrusted up making you glare at him before stopping, “toys don’t move, so still or i won’t let you cum,” you say and yeosang nods letting out a quiet y-yes before you continued between bouncing and moving your hips in figure-eights.

yeosang felt himself grow closer to his orgasm and you clenching around him doing nothing but bringing him closer. “i-i’m c-close! please y-y/n! let me–

he own choked moan cut him off as he felt you clench around him as you came with a loud moan and a whimper of his name. you coming was enough to finally send yeosang over the edge as he took in the sight of you climaxing, knowing you used him to reach your own pleasure.

it took you a moment before you slid off of him and next to him. you were quick to get him to put his legs down which felt a little sore from the position he held for so long.

while he caught his breath he felt you reach over and press different kisses all over his face making him smile. you pressed a final kiss to his lips before cleaning him up and helping him under the covers.

“i love you, y/n, please don’t disappear,” he says as you hold him close to you under the covers of his bed. you remained silent, only slowly running a hand through his hair and lulling him to sleep.

eventually, yeosang closed his eyes welcoming sleep as he fell asleep in your arms.

when he woke up the next morning he was greeted by an empty bed and yeosang can’t tell if what he experienced last night with you was even real or just a dream. with a sigh, he gets up and starts to get dressed before heading out of his room and to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for himself and the others.

“i love you, too.”

#8makes1teamnet #kdiarynet #poly ateez x reader #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez blurbs #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #poly ateez #ateez yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #kys.#dream films.

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kuroos-moon · 4 years

Text

Captains and Strong Independent S/o’s

☁︎︎ request: Oikawa, Kuroo and either Bokuto or Ushijima (I cant choose!) reacting to a (fem or g/n) reader who does some type of martial art and they’re kinda tough/strong and (maybe they’re the team manager and they don’t take no shit) and the captains kinda crush on them for it? (I like to imagine Oikawa having a tough gf who stops Iwa from being mean to him and jokingly threatens Iwa that if he wants to hurt Tohru he has to go through her

☁︎︎ pairing: oikawa x reader, kuroo x reader, ushijima x reader

☁︎︎ warning/s: swearing, felt a bit of angst while writing for ushijima’s idk why tho it might just be my imagination :>

☁︎︎ a/n: also dont know if it’s obvious but i kinda got carried away with ushijima’s

Oikawa Tohru

• is a smug little shit every time you’re with him or in the same room at least

• like,, he could piss Iwa-chan off to death and he won’t get hurt for it? now this is what he calls power

• sincerely loves and adores you, but at first, he kinda got sad that you’re so self-sufficient, you practically don’t need him

• but he’s now long accepted that you’re just so you… and in your relationship, it’s you who does the protecting and looking out by a whole lot (ofc it doesn’t mean he loves you less)

• that’s why he gets so so soft when he gets his turn in being the person who’s leaned on

• as their manager, he loves how you get things done so effectively, even Kyotani bows down to you, as he should—he always says in his head, smiling as he looks at the feral boy getting flustered around you

• he listens to you all the time and we all know Tohru backing down is so rare

“Oy, you’re overdoing it, let’s go.”

“Head home without me, Iwa-chan,” he mutters mindlessly as he screws up another serve, a scowl on his face as he bends down to get another ball; but he freezes at an instant upon Iwaizumi’s words—no, Iwaizumi’s threat.

“Suit yourself, I’ll call y/n.”

Oikawa has never changed stance so quickly in his life, cleaning up the gym as he sends smiles to his best friend’s way every five seconds, hoping he won’t tell on him on his cute but scary girl who could easily kick him unconscious.

• he uses your name to threaten anyone who wants to cross him and they will back down immediately

• also likes to show off because he knows you treasure him so much; he likes to be babied by you especially in front of others

“y/n-chan c’mere,” he softly says, whining a bit. The rest of his team look at the both of you in astonishment as you take the captain in your arms, Tohru’s cheek on your shoulder, looking back at the bewildered look on his teammate’s faces while you sit side by side on the bench.

They could never get used to someone as tough as you having such the softest spot for Shittykawa… like how could you even stand him?

“Really tired,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips when you run your fingers through his hair. “I know, you were great as always, let’s head home so you could rest.”

“Y/n-chan, today, Iwa-chan hit my head when you were out to get water. It really hurt,” he says, still in your embrace as he smirks at his teammates.

Their mouths fall open, Iwaizumi’s eye twitching in irritation for his shitty best friend.

“And Maki-chan…” Hanamaki grits his teeth, looking at him pleadingly in panic as his mind runs through everything he did today, wondering what he could’ve done to your beloved. “He ate my milk bread; I was really hungry.”

Yup, Maki and Iwaizumi knew there was hell to pay, gulping in unison when you pull away from your boyfriend and narrow your eyes at them.

“Iwa-chan. I thought we agreed you weren’t hitting Tohru again.”

A chill runs down his spine, Tohru simply looks at you with pride, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around your waist before you get the chance to throw hands at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo Tetsuro

• loves loves LOVES your remarks, your attitude, the way you take no crap from anyone, like “ah, he’s scared shitless, that’s my girl”

• dw, you’re not a thug or anything, but men who force their feelings on you will see heaven’s gates early

• and kuroo’s so pleased about it. sure, he’d love to get the chance to act all cool and brooding and possessive in front of other suitors but what’s more fun is watching their dejected faces as you say—

• “how many times do I have to turn you down? I have my tetsuro, now back the fuck off or I’ll break your nose.”

• you had no idea he was just outside your classroom waiting for you, arms crossed and a cocky grin stretching his lips when you lock eyes with him

• “chibi-chan!” he calls off cheerily, and you bet he’ll tease you about it til death do you part

• “don’t just stand there, give your tetsuro a hug!”

• laughs about how your friendly banters with yamamoto always end up with you winning the argument

• you rub off as mean bc you won’t take any disrespect, even a little—and that’s great

• those are one of the things he loves about you

• but he’s always worried you might get hurt or hated for it, though he knows you are very much capable of beating anyone up even kuroo himself

• so he’s always holding you back, and I can’t stress this enough, but this man knows you could fend for yourself and he is so proud you’re his partner

• he just wants to make certain that no one’ll hurt you, okay kitten?

• your conversations often go like this:

“I’ll beat up whoever tries to lay a hand on me.”

“don’t say such reckless things, you’re not superman.”

“uhuh, geez, I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to walk me home.”

“well news flash, your tetsuro, needs his y/n to walk him ho—ow,” he mutters when you slap his chest.

“go home with kenma.”

“I don’t want kenma,” he scowls, already irked that this is turning into an argument.

“too bad,” you deadpan.

“ugh,” he groans, “imagine a girlfriend who actually listens to you, just imagine.”

• he is the one and only person you’ll gladly accept lectures from, bc his lectures are always reasonable and for your own good

after checking and verifying that you were completely okay, you knew he was about to go down to business.

“you got into a fight? What are you? a thug?” he crosses his arms. You were both inside the gym along with the rest of his teammates who looked like they were far too preoccupied to listen. They were all clearly listening in though, except Kenma of course.

watching your figures from a few feet away, it was obvious that he was scolding you, and Lev already had a ridiculous visualization of you hitting Kuroo. Everyone was worried you’ll fight him, or maybe even hit him, well, everyone except Kenma, of course.

The setter knew that you would never ever lay a hand on kuroo as if the 6’1 captain was fragile. He also knew that you loved and respected kuroo too much to actually get agitated just because he was scolding you, you aren’t an unreasonable person. Lastly, he knew that kuroo would be going soft on you in five minutes tops, his best friend is hopeless like that.

Kenma was right, he always is. Your back is glued to the wall behind you, Kuroo’s hand beside your head, his face extremely close to yours that you’re left flustered which is rare.

After you were rambling on about how you had to put that girl in her place, going off about how it made you so mad and he should cut you some slack, he knew just how to shut you up. And it worked. You’re speechless.

“what was that again, hm? go on, you surely had a lot to say,” he mutters, acting all tough as if he wasn’t dying to just kiss you now. when you don’t respond and stare at him and his lips instead, he already gives in. yes, just like that. “you were wrong to do that, okay?” he breathes, the worry from earlier on making its way out through his voice.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Locking lips with you, you pull him closer to yourself, and kuroo had purposely decided to kabedon you on this wall since his broad back would be shielding the two of you from his teammates’ line of sight.

After pulling away, he pats your head, licking his lips. “I forgive you, I’m not mad anymore.” You look away in embarrassment, realizing how petty you must’ve seemed to him. He sighs before hugging you, chin atop your head.

“Make this the last time, okay? I swear you’re shortening my lifespan having me worried all the time.”

You hug him tighter as a response, kuroo letting out a breath of contentment. Regardless of how tough you are outside; you are and always will be his soft little kitten and it was his greatest honor that you allow him to take care of you like this.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

• is probably a little too used to the idea of his most treasured girlfriend being extremely capable and self-sufficient

• his teammates would always look at him like ‘why are you not stepping in,’ every time you’re in a tough spot i.e. having an argument with someone or having a too-touchy suitor

• then they’d be like “oh, that’s why,” after you flung the despicable creature out to space

• he thinks so highly of you, not only are you physically strong, you’re even tougher on the inside too

• this is kinda a given but I’ll say it anyway—he can be unintentionally insensitive (well your relationship is kinda new)

• example no 1:

you were arguing with goshiki and while he would normally like to ignore you and let you have your way; he was getting annoyed bc the argument was far too petty.

“I’m gonna surpass him!”

“and I’m telling you that you ca-

your mouth is clamped with a big hand, and it took you only a second to realize it was Wakatoshi because only he would have the nerve to lay a hand on you like this. he still doesn’t say anything, dragging you with him in an empty hallway for privacy.

finally after you stopped walking, he turns to you and looks at you expectantly. “what was that for? Did you even wash your hand,” you mutter, slightly annoyed.

“I haven’t touched the ball yet, don’t worry,” he lowly says, making you sulk because he totally missed your point. “still, you didn’t have to make me shut up by clamping your hand against my mouth.” He’s too… not gentle with you sometimes.

“you were going to say something you shouldn’t to goshiki.”

“he said something he shouldn’t have.”

he only narrows his eyes at you and you do the same, anyone from your class would’ve been scared at the sight. You were both known as the cutest yet intimidatingly scary couple.

• you were in the early stages of dating and though you understood each other well, it wasn’t really enough yet

• it’s all good though, because once you tell him that he was too uncaring of you and your feelings he does something that no other man would do:

• apologize, admit his mistake, reflect on it a lot and,,, actually change!!

• he’s much softer to you after that, and he finally realizes that you were still his precious girl and you were sensitive when it came to him

• cursed himself for being too reliant on how you never seemed sensitive or needy

• doesn’t dwell too much on regret, just treats you 100x times better

• is fascinated with your passion for martial arts but is against you overdoing training

• one time, he was torn between dragging you out of practice or just turning a blind eye to your visible exhaustion since you’re always so tough anyway, you’ll manage

• but then he remembers his promise to himself to never treat you like you aren’t the most special person to him so he excuses himself from practice and heads to your training room

you sat alone, your back to the wall. everyone else has gone home but you stayed because your muscles were too sore and you felt like you couldn’t even walk for another day. maybe it had something to do with how you’ve been training too much.

you’re startled upon seeing shoes on the floor you blankly stared at, looking up to meet eyes with Ushijima. “Wakatoshi,” you say in surprise.

he is expressionless as he bends down across you between your legs, and you had to admit this was something you weren’t used to from him. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft as velvet. you’re taken aback by his question, looking away in embarrassment.

Wakatoshi rarely asks you that, and most of the time it was only when you said the word ‘ow’ when you accidentally hit something. you clear your throat, bringing your hands together to play with your fingers, “I’m okay.”

it was silent for a few seconds before you hear him sigh, not only that, warm, gentle hands had found its way to yours and you look at him, bewildered. “is this okay?” he asks, looking down at both your hands and you nod. “your hands are much smaller, compared to mine at least.” he says, but you’re too flustered to even understand that.

“are other things okay too?” he asks, and like his former statement, you didn’t understand. your silence doesn’t stop him though, he decided to push his luck. tugged gently by your wrist, your back’s no longer pressed to the wall as ushijima wakatoshi pulls you in his arms for the first time in your very few months of dating.

“wakatoshi,” you mumble, your heart racing so much you’re sure he feels it against his chest. he’s so warm, welcoming, and in his loving hold felt like the rightest place to be. “you’re not feeling okay.”

you don’t respond, opting to bury your face at the crook of his neck instead. “I’m here, I know you’re tired.”

you both stay in that position for a long time, it was addicting to be cradled in his arms and he felt the same. “y/n,” he whispers, and you hum in response.

“you’re strong. very strong. you don’t need a man at all.”

your heart skips a beat, “toshi are you breaking up with me?”

you hear a soft chuckle ring in your ears, “let me finish. as I said, you’re very strong. you look like you’re always so tough. but you’re not, and so…” he trails off, so you pull away to look at him, hesitance evident in his eyes, his palm still pressed at the small of your back.

“you’re not always strong. in fact if I dare say, you are fragile, and I care about you. so please, allow me to be there for you all the time, I’ll be here, just like now.”

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ultzuko @yappychan @dipsydoo542 @devilgirlcrybabiey @dai-tsukki-desu

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #oikawa tohru #ushijima wakatoshi #kuroo tetsuro

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levisgirll · 3 years

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How about one where levi comforts his s/o on her birthday? She maybe doesn't feel as important or not good enough? My bday is actually coming up and im a bit anxious for it and i tend to cry on my birthdays for no reason, but now im feeling as if i have a reason to cry? idk but i just would like some fluff/comfort with levi bc i love him sm. Thank you!

�� 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

text: hello anon!! First of all thank you so much for your lovely request I would gladly write this up for you 🥺💕 and second HAPPY EARLY/LATE BIRTHDAY <3 I hope I am not too late and you get to see this post either on your birthday or before :,) I hope you have a lovely day filled with love and laughter cause everyone deserves that on their birthday 🥰 and also I hope this post somehow helps you go through with your bday and makes u feel perhaps less anxious or sad! I kind of felt like this on my last birthday but I went to read some fanfics and they kind of helped me out and made me smile so I hope that is the same case with you when you read what I wrote for you :,) also i made this modern au ahhhh

synopsis: it’s y/n’s birthday! He tries to make this day special as it is since he wants his s/o to realize that! Later he finds out that his s/o feels on this very day not that important and also tears up. As Levi discovers that, he does and says things only on your birthday that really made you surprised and on this day you felt extremely good and special y/n cries happy tears instead <3

comfort fluff, bit angst, a little bit suggestive (?), modern au ♡ —

Today is the day, and not any day but Levi's s/o birthday! He woke up extremely early for this day. He had already planned out what to do coming from a man who is pretty much organized and ahead of things you weren’t shocked to see him getting up quite early.

“Levi..?” Y/N said in such a soft and tired tone, it really warmed his heart. “Love...Happy birthday.” He would go near your ear and whisper that, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn't mean to wake you up...Go back to sleep.” He would say as he pushed your hair back gently that was laying on your face. You felt his warm fingertips brush against your cheek and you open your eyes slightly to look at your man, Levi that was up and putting his shirt on. You got up a bit reached out and pulled on the his shirt “Wait...don’t leave.”

He turned around quickly and looked at you, ‘Why does she sound uneasy....?’ He would wonder as he came closer to you and kissed on top of your head. “Silly, I’m not leaving or going anywhere. I’ll be in the kitchen so just rest a bit and I’ll wake you up later on, Hm?” Levi said with a smile, after the war and when you both left Paradise to start a life in the outside world, Levi started to smile more, laugh and be even more affectionate towards you and this warmed your heart. He promised you that he would protect you till the last days even if there was no war anymore and also....promised you to show you more love cause he deiced to spend the rest of his life with you, and he was in progress in doing that!

After a couple of hours, you felt a small rub on your shoulders. “Time to wake up birthday girl” He gave you a warm smile and helped you get out of your shared bed. You felt how gentle, and careful he was for you...he truly did cherish you and loved you a lot, you meant the world to Levi.

As you were brushing your teeth, Levi was brushing your hair and when he was done he would put his arms around your waist and kept kissing your neck until you were done and ready.

Your cheeks were red now and you had a shy look on your face. “Ha, Don't be shy with me Love, it’s just us alone.” He would say and softly rub your arms. “Let’s go then?” and you give him a nod and held on his hand.

When you both went downstairs, you gasped and was taken aback by what you saw. A beautiful breakfast that was set up and prepared for the both of you, a sack of pancakes with fruits that was cut by him, your favorite fruit juice, and there was a vase with a bouquet and you could see a card that was hidden in the beautiful flowers he picked out for you and it was written ‘Happy Birthday my Dearest’

“Wow, you did this for...me?” You would say while giving him a sad expression that almost broke his heart. “Who else?” He said with a sarcastic tone and pulled your hand towards the table. You and Levi enjoyed the breakfast and you both had a good morning filled with laughter.

“Sit down, I’m gonna clean the dishes” you nodded and went to sit on the coach. You then started to feel...a bit anxious? Y/N wondered how the rest of the day would go and you started to think if what Levi did was all worth it?

“Love, what's wrong?” Levi was quick to read your vibe, he approached you from behind, and sensed you were feeling perhaps down. “Nothing...”

“Yea I’m not gonna buy that, tell me....What’s wrong?” Y/N stood up slowly and was looking down, her hair was covering her face and that made Levi quickly go in front of her and held on her shoulders. Tears then started to roll down from your cheeks and Levi pulled you to his chest for a hug. “I-I don’t know why I’m tearing up! But I am feeling as if I have a reason to cry and I usually cry on my birthdays Levi...I’m sorry, it’s probably for nothing.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He hugged you tighter and then proceed to stroke your hair. “These feelings are completely normal, why apologize for it? But it’s okay you don’t need to explain why you are crying love.” Levi waited for y/n to calm down as he caressed her hair, and Y/N pulled her face away from his muscular chest and looked up at him. He gave a small smile to her and wiped her tears “Let’s....make those tears not for ‘nothing’ or for ‘no reason’ to be wasted, but instead let me make those tears a reason for you today. A reason that caused you to smile and laugh today.”

Levi was now looking at you in such a loving way, you could feel all his love, emotions, the way he caressed you, hugged you, touched your hair gently and now holding both of your hands, it warmed your heart. He was indeed a man who was really mature, and has a great deal of empathy towards Y/N. Levi understood your feelings cause of the deep love he had for you. “You are important to me, okay? So, let me make those tears....happy tears instead.”

After a while, Levi told you to get dressed up and ready because he was going to take you somewhere. You both left your apartment that you both shared at the moment and walked down the street, while Levi tightly holding your hand and on the other hand he was carrying a brown paper carrier bag which had something in it. “What’s inside?” “A surprise.”

Later did you know, you both reached a huge garden park and you saw a group of people that you recognized. Your friends! “Everyone!”

As soon as Hanji hear you, Hanji came running towards you and hugged you tightly which was then followed by Jean, Mikasa, Armin and the rest all wishing you a happy birthday!

You then spotted Onyankopn, Falco and Gabi preparing the huge picnic filled with a variety of delicious food and then Levi brought out the cake which he designed and baked just for you.

The whole afternoon was spent with your loved one, friends and you all had such a great time, playing some card games, tennis which Jean and Connie that they brought along with them. You were packed with so many gifts too, and Levi was holding on to your waist and hand the whole time and would sneak in some kisses on your cheek when no one would look. Hanji then talked about how your relationship was going and Levi would suddenly talk really highly of you, and pamper about you then he would mention all of the times you meant a lot to him and he cherished.

The sun started to set and everyone was heading to leave, and Levi held on your hand and you both went to see the sunset while sitting on the bench. You found the sunset really beautiful, but to Levi he thought you were more prettier. He held on your hand and then said while focusing on your eyes “You know...When you are not around, I always crave for your touch. You just make me feel good so I always find myself a chance to hold your hand constantly.” Before you could say anything, he gave you a box that was wrapped with a ribbon. “Open it.” Your eyes widen when you saw the gift, it was Rose Gold Watch and it looked rather expensive but extremely charming. He went closer to you and brought your wrist closer and wore the watch for you. “I knew this would suit you.” Levi smiled again and looked at you, tears were now forming on your eyes but this time...it was happy tears and you gave him a big smile that really warmed his heart. “Thank you Levi, I really love you...” He went closer to you and kissed your cheek which washed away the tears that was rolling down. “I love you more....And didn't I say I would make that happy tears today, Hm? But we aren’t done, your birthday did not end yet”

After you both reached home, you both went to the bedroom and you started to change into your comfy silk nightgown, while Levi took of his shirt and was only...wearing his joggers? ‘Wait...He would only do that if he is in the mood’ You thought as you started to blush slightly.

“Lev-” Your words were taken aback when Levi suddenly embraced you and kept his face in your neck while bring his arms around your waist. “Can...I make you feel good tonight? I want to make your birthday memorable....just for today.” It was more of a whisper when he said it, and you managed to hear it all even though you could feel his heart beating fast.

Your face was now red, you could feel his back muscle tense up and the detail of it as you caressed his back. You nodded, which Levi sensed and acknowledged, but asked again. “I need to hear your answer love.” He was now looking at you and he held on your shoulders, waiting for a response and he would not let you go until you answered. “Yes Love” You said with certainty and looked back at him which he suddenly blushed with you how you responded. Levi did had a tough and strong personality from the outside, but when it came to moments like these he was really soft and usually shy but tonight he wanted to try his best for you, cause you meant the world to him.

He picked you up and you could feel his biceps around you which you held on as he gently laid you on top of the bed, with Levi being on top of you. He leaned in closer and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Oi! I can be romantic…So why are you giving me that look?” He said with a smirk and that made you laugh. “Hmm...Prove it then.” You challenged him and that made his ego boost up. He proceeded to kiss all over your face which made you giggle as some of them tickled, and then he stopped and reached the edge of your lips which made both of you open your eyes and gazed into each other, both feeling the affection and attraction. “Shit...it drives me crazy when you look at me that way.” He went and kissed your lips, it was soft, slow and very passionate...you could feel all of his love in that kiss as you held on his biceps while his arms where between you for support.

“Where....else do you want me to kiss you?” He moved closer to you as he whispered near your ear, you felt his hot breathe which made you shiver. “A-Anywhere..” You were a blushing mess right now, but you weren't alone your boyfriend Levi’s face was redder than yours.

“O-Okay....Y/N I’m gonna make sure tonight you feel loved tonight, and I want you to focus right now how good you are and how wonderful you are.” As he said that, your face was burning up, ‘what made Levi say this all?’ you wondered.

He came closer to your neck, and was kissing it...you held on to him and hugged his chest, and he was doing it gently. This then left a small hickey on your neck and he was surprised as it was kind of dark.

“I will leave this mark on you so you can remember my love tonight, and know that you are always in my thoughts Y/N” He brought his hand and caressed your cheek which you held on, “And...when its gone, I’m here to give you another one.”

Perhaps, in the days you cry, there would be sad days, but today was a special day which was your birthday, and that not only gave you any tears but instead happy tears which was cause of Levi giving you the warmest/sweetest comfort and love throughout the whole day and especially the whole evening. You really did love Levi Ackerman.

well i hope you enjoyed this! I tried something new and I really see levi doing this for his s/o especially in days where he wants to make them feel loved and he really tries his best to comfort them <3 I hope you loved this anon and you get to see this and also if anyone else did please leave a like or a reblog! ♡

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

Text

— "𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; bakugou and you had been dating for so long, but always had to hide it. he hates hiding you, he hates seeing you sad, and you don’t know how much more you can take.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; a little bit of angst at first, but then fluff.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; bc… him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.0k

it had been a long day at your agency, longer than usual at least. a lot of little incidents in your patrol areas, meetings, reports waiting for you to give them a final look. you checked the watch on your desk, almost midnight. by then, only the guards must have been in the building. a long, heavy sigh left your lips. you still had work to do, but the urge to go home was bigger, so after taking your things, you drove home, eager to see your boyfriend. bakugou mananged to get himself the title of number one hero four years after graduation, surpassing even all might himself. seeing him achieve his dreams filled your heart with love and pride, though it still hurt not being able to share those feelings with the world.

on your second year at u.a., katsuki asked you on a date after months of notorious flirting, no one was really surprised, in fact, among your class, everyone was happy because of your influence in the boy. your honey moon period was interrupted a few months later, on what was class a’s last sports festival. as third years already, all the attention was laid on you and your classmates. hundreds of pro heroes expecting to catch the most promising graduates, and your last chance to show you worthy. on every phase, you and bakugou would share knowing glances, secret winks at each other, little reassuring smiles from you and calming head nods from him. with all those cameras making you the center of attention, it wasn’t too hard for people to figure out what was going on between both of you. you ended sixth, only surpassed by uraraka, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya and bakugou, and were really happy with your performance. that same night, after a celebration with all your friends at the dorm, you went into your boyfriend’s room.

he was laying in bed, reading a book, but still reached out to pull you into bed. “mind if i use your computer?” you asked, him humming in agreement, too focused to pay you more attention. first you checked your personal account, when nothing entertainment surge there, you opened your official hero account. as you expected, the festival just endign a few hours ago, the tags were exploding. your face completely change when you started to read.

“so, are we just ignoring the fact that Y/N of all people was making eyes at bakugou the ENTIRE TIME?? keep it in your pants geez”.

“i’m sorry but if you think that bakuy/n thing wasn’t a stunt, you’re wrong”.

“guys. it’s as simple as looking at y/n, and then looking at ✨bakugou✨”.

“yeah it’s a no for me, like ok they’re friends but don’t make it fucking disgusting”.

and you could keep going. most of them were about how someone as great as katsuki could never lay his eyes on you, fewer were about how he was too aggressive and violent for you, and some were just people hating on both of you. tears gather in your eyes, was this what everyone thought? you knew from the beginning the difference between bakugou katsuki and you, who was lucky to even had made it that far, but you didn’t realise just how big the difference was. katsuki immediately felt something was off, so he left his book aside and grabbed your hand.

“i…” was all you managed to say before bursting in tears. bakugou hugged you as fast as he could, whispering softly calming words and leaving small kisses in your head. slowly, he took away the computer to see what made you so upset. blood starting to boil in his veins, his whole self shaking in pure rage. he got up, leaving you in the bed, still a little teary.

“i’m going to kick those losers to the moon, who the fuck are they to say those things? fucking bastards, i’ll shove their words so up thei–” he was walking back and forward in the small space of his room, stopped only when he saw you crying even harder.

“am i really th–that unworthy of you?” the voice crack made his heart break “i know i’m not perfect but i really thought that… that…” bakugou kneeled before you, looking at you dead in the eye. his hands gently reached your wet cheeks.

“don’t say dumb shit, dumbass. you are the most perfect person on this fucking planet, no one, not even youself, can say shit about that, ya’ hear me?” he did his best to calm himself down, knowing that you needed his comfort more than ever.

he took away the laptop before going into bed with you, holding you tightly in his arms. you were still crying, completely unable to get those words out of your mind. you loved katsuki, that you were sure, and he made clear several times that he loved you too, why didn’t people understand that? why it wasn’t enough?.

the next day, aizawa told both of you that in order to keep your mental health, at least until you graduate, to not make it official. he explained how sometimes, pro heroes had to keep their private life in check just to make things a little easier, as unfair as it sounds. so you waited, you graduate and held the impulse of kissing your boyfriend, hugging him, even look at him. it’s okay, only a few more days. katsuki sign a contract for two years with best jeanist, the number three hero at the time. you, on the other hand, had been offered to work with the lurkers, a team conformed by edgeshot, their leader, kamui woods and mt. lady, signing a similar contract to your boyfriend’s. you were overflowed with happiness, your dream had come true, finally you could call yourself a pro hero. you weren’t an intern, you were their equal.

“look, you are a great hero, but you are just starting” edgeshot had call you into his office, the manager of public interactions was next to him, talking to you “i did my research, and i’m going to have to ask you to keep this relationship of yours with ground zero a secret. you have so much potential, you need to leave a good impression or your hardwork would be for nothing.” you looked at your boss, seeing the uncomfortable look on his face. no one liked to ask those things, but sometimes there were sacrifices to be made.

“i have to talk with him first” was all you could say.

it killed you. not being able to love katsuki, to live a secret. most of the time all you wanted to do was scream in the middle of the street, where everyone could hear you. you loved bakugou katsuki, and he loved you, you wanted to spend you whole life with him, without hiding, without lies, without wondering if you were good enough for him. but it couldn’t be. now, four years later, both of you with your own agencies and a steady career, it still couldn’t be. again and again, no matter how many advisors you hired, everyone reached the same conclusion.

katsuki was waiting for you in the couch, watching a movie. instantly, you crawled to his arms, searching for reassurance. at least he was still the same.

“oi, are you okay?” even if his voice came out harshly, you knew he worried.

“i’m tired” you hid your face in his neck, intertwining your legs with his. you didn’t want to cry, but it was impossible to keep all the tears from falling.

“look at me” he said, lifting your face from your chin “what is it?” his eyes creeped inside yours, you hated making him worry, he lived the exact same things you did, but there you were the only one crying.

“i’m tired of this, bakugou” to hear his last name coming from you froze him in his place, what? tired of what? of him? you wanted to break up? “i can’t do it anymore” the way you grabbed his hand gave him confusing signs. “i want to go out with you, to hold your hand in public, i wanna kiss you and hug you whenever i want to, fuck, i want a normal relationship”

oh. it was that. bakugou sighed, a bit relieved. he understood, it was hard on him too, but at the same time, was all both of you knew. your relationship never had a normal phase, he couldn’t even remember the last date you had. how could he miss something he never had? of course, you were different. for some reason, the media had always been harsher on you. if it wasn’t your love life, it was your hero costume, or the way you did your job, how you didn’t have children, that forever tired face you got, they’d always find a new thing to complain. but you had your own fanbase, a lot of people who supported you, not for nothing you were the number four hero. being honest, katsuki didn’t know what to say. he hated seeing you like that, after all those years.

“let’s go out” he talked while getting up from the couch, lifting you with him “put on something comfy, hurry” when he saw you staring blankly at him, he took you from your legs as a bag of potatos “dammit, woman”.

once you got out of your surprise, you did as you were told after your boyfriend left you on the bed. his eyes glowed with a different shine, one that had disappeared a long time ago.

you got in his car, him driving. katsuki seemed happy, and that eased your anxiety. after a while, he parked in the middle of town. despite of the hour, there was a lot of people there, just as he expected.

“we can’t do this” you said, still a bit doubtful.

“of course we can, i’m going out with my girlfriend, i’m going to hold her hand, and i’m going to kiss her whenever the fuck i want, because she’s the baddest bitch out there and doesn’t deserves to be hidden from anyone”.

he said that. your heart raced, your cheeks heated up, what was going on? your belly had a thousand butterflies trying to escape. he said that. for the first time in five years, you kissed him without double thinking. a kiss filled with loved, confidence, feelings you couldn’t even describe.

he got out of the car first and opened your door, reaching out a hand. you were together in this, whatever happened wouldn’t be as bad, because you had him. there wasn’t anything else you needed but bakugou katsuki.

he explained what he planned while driving, you were going to go to every store you wanted, holding hands, sharing kisses. you were going to take pictures and share them with the world. you wanted an ice cream? then both of you would walk the entire tokyo to get you one, not minding the looks, the whispering. this was you and him.

and you did, you spent the most awesome night together, phones exploding with calls of both of you agencies. it didn’t matter.

you ended in a viewpoint, sitting in the back of your car watching the sun rise. a blanket provided the warm lacking from you bodies, even though you were cuddling. every time bakugou was at peace with you, unconsciously started to sing under his breath, in a really low voice. feeling his chest under your skin, his fingers tangled in your head, hearing his deep melodic voice. that’s how you wanted to spend your life.

“marry me” he said, his heart didn’t even race its pace. he was so calm, because he knew that your love was mutual. “c'mon, dumbass, marry me”.

“i love you” was all that left your mouth. he took it as a yes, and he was right. a soft smile curved in his lips, you were his, and he was entirely yours.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bnha #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha imagines #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero acadamy #bnha fic #mha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #– star's; originals! [❀]

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hstyleshoney · 3 years

Note

hey! could u maybe write something where h notices Y/N is distant after he comes back from tour? like she doesn’t feel stable in the relationship anymore bc he’s always away or something like that but he doesn’t want to break up. lmao this is weirdly specific but I really hope u get over your writers block <3

This has been in my drafts for a couple months now. Finally had time to finish it. Sorry it took so long. Hope you like It! <3

WC: 5.3K // angst, fluff

April.

Harry is tired.

He’s only been back in London for two days but he is completely drained. Mentally and physically. All he wants to do is snuggle down on the sofa with his girl and relax. He wants to hold her as close to him as humanly possible; feel her warmth and her smooth skin against his. He wants to spend all night just giggling away at nothing in particular with her because they’re both just so happy to be around one another again and whisper sweet nothings to her all night to let her know how much he missed her and loves her.

He has 21 days home before the next part of his tour kicks off - in Australia. He wants to make the most out of their time together before he has to leave again.

But something is wrong.

She is distant. She’s not letting him hold her, she hardly smiles when she sees him and she’s being off. It’s weird. Harry doesn’t like it.

He noticed it the second he arrived at her flat Monday night. She didn’t come running when he walked through the door. She didn’t talk non-stop for hours like she usually did when they had spent an excessive amount of time apart. She didn’t dig through his suitcase to get a look at all his latest purchases of clothes just because she loved fashion and got excited about all the designer items he owned. It was odd.

They didn’t even have sex.

Harry told himself it was probably just because it was late when he arrived and she was probably just tired. She’d be fine in the morning.

But she is still being as off with him as she was on Monday night, despite the fact that he has been back home in London for a couple days now. Harry doesn’t know what to do. Usually being back home with her brings him comfort and lets him relax after weeks on the road. Now it only has the opposite effect. It’s disheartening. He doesn’t understand it.

On Friday night they go out for dinner with a couple of friends of his. Harry hopes it will lift her spirits but she stays quiet for most of the evening. She is gloomy, not her usual self, and the twinkle in her eyes is missing. It’s awkward and when James shoots him a questioning look from across the table Harry knows that everyone has noticed that something is wrong.

Harry feels sick.

He is worried. Stressed. Anxious. Maybe even a tiny bit angry.

And he is afraid to ask her about it because he has a bad feeling about the whole thing. His gut is telling him that her lack of affection is because of him. He knows he has to ask her about it, but he is holding off for as long as he possibly can. Because asking her about why she is being distant makes it real and he is not ready for her to confirm his suspicions. He is still holding onto the small hope that her mood is because of something that happened at work or with her friends.

But she usually tells him everything and now she hasn’t said anything.

So the only explanation Harry can think of is that he is the reason for her low mood.

And he is not ready to hear it.

He knows her though. He knows she hates upsetting or disappointing others and will avoid it at all costs, even if it means neglecting her own thoughts and feelings until she’s too overwhelmed by it all. She has the kindest heart he has ever met; she is perhaps too kind for her own good.

Which is why he knows he has to ask her and get her to open up about whatever is going on in her head. For her sake but also for his own.

The car ride back to his house after their dinner is, unsurprisingly, quiet and somewhat tense. Harry wants to ask her right there and then why she is being so off, but he also knows he won’t be able to focus on the road if he does. He can hardly focus enough as it is. So he stays quiet and glances over at her whenever he gets the chance, and his heart sinks from how sad she looks.

She doesn’t look at him once though and only rests her head against the window as she watches the other cars around them, picking at the skin around her nails; a sign Harry has learned means that she is either stressed or upset... or both.

Once they make it to his house reality kind of hits him like a ton of bricks and he is one hundred percent sure her mood is because of him now and he is anxious to find out the reason why that is and fearful of where the conversation might lead. What if he loses her? He is not sure his heart can take it.

But she lets him put a hand on her back as they walk into the house and it’s nice to have her close again, she smells so good, and he has to stop himself from falling into her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she tells him quietly when they get inside, avoiding eye contact, and swiftly disappears up the stairs before he gets the chance to ask her about anything. Harry almost calls her name to stop her but decides to give her a couple of minutes before he approaches her about the elephant in the room.

Also, he needs some time to get his own head together and prepare for whatever might be thrown his way. As scared as he might be there is also a frustration building up inside him from her shutting him out. He had been gone for almost three months and they hadn’t been able to see each other as much as they would’ve liked to. He had been looking forward to just coming home to her and getting a couple of weeks with her before continuing his tour.

There is a lump in his throat as he makes his way up the stairs. His palms are sweaty. His head is spinning. And he realises, for the first time in his life, that he is absolutely terrified about the possibility of losing someone. Her. He has been in love before. He has gone through break-ups. But none of them have made him feel like this. It’s like someone is suffocating him.

And the break-up hasn’t even happened yet. He doesn’t even know if it will happen. He just knows that the girl who has his whole heart in his hands is being distant and won’t talk to him after weeks apart. It’s not a good sign.

She is still in the bathroom when he comes upstairs. The door is open and he takes a few seconds to just watch her, leaning against the doorframe with a fond look on his face. He can’t take his eyes off her. Her hair is pushed back by her pink fuzzy headband and her face is free from all the makeup she had previously worn. She is beautiful, he thinks and closes his eyes for a second to savor the small moment.

It’s just so familiar. He has seen her get ready for bed a hundred times before and he never gets tired of it. It’s the simplest thing but it makes him feel home.

She feels like home.

And then she spots him by the door and a small squeal escapes her lips which brings him back. “Bloody hell Harry” she breathes out and puts a hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he replies and shoots her a weak smile.

“I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes and then the bathroom is all yours” she says and picks up one of her many skin care products to continue her routine. She speaks fast and avoids his gaze. Harry clears his throat awkwardly.

“Actually,” he starts. “I was wondering if we could talk?”

She freezes for a brief moment and Harry almost feels bad. Silence falls over them again and it’s all the confirmation he needs to know that whatever is going on has something to do with him. Harry is almost certain she’s going to tell him she’s too tired to talk or come up with another excuse, but eventually she nods.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods as well and tries to give her another small smile to ease the tension between them but it’s useless. The knot in his stomach weighs him down too much. “I’ll let you finish and you can just come find me, yeah?”

Harry waits for her in the bedroom. He sits down on the bed before standing up almost just as fast. Then he sits back down again. His throat feels dry and his heart is beating so hard inside his chest it feels like it might burst. He’s trying to come up with what to say to her but as soon as she walks in his mind goes completely blank. He wants to believe that he is wrong, that it’s just a big misunderstanding, but her sad eyes make it hard.

She looks so soft and small as she takes a seat next to him and Harry has to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms. It’s strange and he doesn’t understand why she is being so distant. Everything was fine between them before he left for his tour and as far as he knows nothing happened while he was away.

“Have I done something wrong?” he begins.

She sighs and looks down at her hands, still doing her best to avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry H,” she says and her voice cracks a little at the end. Harry feels sick again. “I know I've been acting weird. Distant. I’m sorry.”

“Will you please look at me?” he begs because he can’t stand her shutting him out like she is. It’s never happened before. So when she looks up at him with tears in her eyes both relief and pangs of agony washes over him. It kills him; fills him with worry. Harry doesn’t know how he is going to get through this. This wasn’t how he had planned his return home. Far from. “What’s going on?”

“I love you,” she tells him and swallows thickly.

Harry nods and tries to stop his head from spinning so much.

“And I love you.”

“I... I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

There it is. He knew it was coming but hearing the words come out of her mouth is a punch to the face. He doesn’t know how to respond to it. Silence falls between them just as heavy raindrops start to fall against the windowsill outside.

“Okay,” is all he can say.

“I just - I hate missing my best friend every single day.” A tear rolls down her cheek and she’s quick to wipe it away, taking a shaky breath. “I feel very alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Harry says and reaches out to take her soft hands into his, holding them tight. She gives him a sad smile and laces her fingers with his. He never wants to let go.

“I know,” she replies softly. “But it feels like I am. I come home to an empty flat, have dinner on my own and watch some stupid reality show to kill time. I can’t even call you whenever I want to because you’re on stage or busy with something else. I feel like I’m just constantly waiting for you. It feels impossible for us to build a life together.”

Harry wants to tell her it’ll change. That it’ll get better. That he’ll be better. But it’s a promise he can’t make because he’s leaving again, soon. He still has shows to do in Australia, North- and South America. He still has a tour to do - and hopefully more tours in the future as well.

And he loves his job. It’s his dream. He is so grateful for everything he gets to do.

But he has never hated his job as much as he does in that moment right there, and he hates himself for that too.

“I’m here now,” he says weakly and tightens his fingers around hers.

“Yeah, I know,” she croaks and when she cups his cheek in the hand he’s not holding Harry can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch. “But you’re leaving again, what happens then? We’ve been in the same time zone and country now for three months and barely had the chance to talk - what happens when you’re on the other side of the world?”

“I’ll make time for you. I promise,” Harry tells her and blinks away his own tears that are threatening to fall.

“But you won’t be here,” she replies sadly and pulls away from him. Harry feels cold as soon as her hands leave his. He wants to scream but there is no air in his lungs. He’s losing her and he doesn't know what to do or say to stop it. He’s helpless.

And when a strangled sob escapes her he thinks his heart might shatter into a million pieces. It’s the worst sound he has ever heard and it kills him knowing it’s because of him. “I hate this,” she cries. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’m being so fucking selfish.”

“Stop,” he huffs and angles his body so he can move himself closer to her. Desperate to fix whatever is happening between them before it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles and bows her head, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want to make you feel bad because I know how much you love what you do and I would never ask you to stop. I love watching you on stage, it’s my favorite thing in the world... but I just- I just don’t know if I’m happy like this. I don’t like the person I become when you’re away.”

“What can I do?” Harry begs even though he knows there’s not a lot he can do right now. “I’m not losing you.” He takes her hands into his again, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too Harry, so much.” Her voice trembles as she speaks and Harry feels his whole stomach drop as the next few words fall from her lips. He’s sure he is going to pass out. “Sometimes love isn’t enough though, is it?”

“What are you saying?” he whispers as he tightens his hold on her hands. She looks up at him, her glossy eyes meeting his green ones, and Harry can no longer hold back his own tears.

“I don’t know yet,” she admits, her voice low and thick. Harry tries to think of something to say that will change her mind but his head is swirling with a million different things all at once. He can’t think straight. He only knows he refuses to lose her. He won’t lose her. So he tells her that again.

“I’m not losing you.”

That night they fall asleep on different sides of the bed with their backs facing each other and Harry might just break.

May 19th.

Harry Styles ❤️ 11:34 AM We just landed in Australia. I wish you were here. I love you. xxx

May 31st.

Harry Styles ❤️ 5:47 PM Last show is done. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Let’s talk then. xxx

June.

She is tired.

The last three weeks have been brutal. Or, actually, the whole month has been brutal. Ever since she told Harry about her insecurities regarding their relationship she felt like her whole life had just fallen apart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Nothing.

She went to work and when the day was over she went straight home and watched every episode she could find of ‘The Great British Bake Off’ to numb her mind. Her co-workers express their worry when they see her come to work with the same outfit for the fourth day in a row, greasy hair and big dark circles under her eyes. They tell her to take a few days off.

But she doesn’t.

Because she needs work as a distraction. She can’t just sit at home and think about everything that happened between her and Harry before he left for Australia. The morning after their talk they hardly said a word to each other and she could see that he was hurt. It killed her knowing it was because of her.

It was just that the European tour had been harder on her than she ever could've imagined. Other than the London shows she had only been able to go to the one in Manchester and the one in Paris, but that was it. She couldn’t get more time off to go see him and whenever she finished work at the end of a long day and had time to call him he was already on stage or about to be.

They hardly spoke and it made her sad. The reality of how different their lives were slapped her hard in the face that first leg of his tour. So hard she couldn’t bring herself to be happy when he came back home to London, because she knew he was leaving again.

She figured that maybe she just needed some time to get used to having him around again and that things would go back to how they usually were after a day or so. They didn’t. Instead all she could think about was the fact that he was leaving again and how every hour that passed was an hour of their time together that was gone.

She had been stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

When he asked her to talk she knew that she would no longer be able to keep things to herself. It all just came crashing down.

She hasn’t seen Harry in almost a month now and her whole body is aching for his touch again. At the same time, she knows she has no one but herself to blame for her heartache.

She loves him. She loves him so fucking much.

She just doesn’t know if she can handle the distance. She doesn’t know if she can handle only speaking to him through text messages because of the time difference and/or because their schedules don't add up. She doesn’t know if she can handle all the rumors circulating on social media whenever he has been seen with someone she doesn’t recognize. She’s become jealous and she doesn’t like it.

But she loves him.

She knows in her heart that he is The one.

And maybe that’s why she is so fucking terrified of him leaving, because what if he never comes back to her?

She’s not sure she’s going to be able to handle it.

So when she told him she wasn’t sure if she could be with him anymore she did it so she could leave first, but then he looked at her like she had just crushed his entire soul. After spending every night for the last couple weeks replaying the moment over and over again in her head she realises she won’t ever be able to leave him. She doesn’t want to.

And now he is coming back again, after spending two weeks back home in Holmes Chapel with his family to clear his head and two weeks down under in Australia doing what he loves most, and she is still terrified. Because he might show up and tell her he’s had enough of her games and leave with her heart.

She takes that Tuesday off from work and cleans her entire flat, anxiously waiting for Harry to show up. He texted her earlier to let her know he would arrive in London by noon and would be coming over, to which she only replied an ‘okay’ because she was overthinking and didn’t know what else to say.

They never officially said the words “we are over” so she has no idea if they were still together or broken up, and she didn’t want to say something that could be misinterpreted in any way.

Then she gets another text from him asking her if she could come over to him instead because he is too jet lagged and wants to just go home and have a shower. And she convinces herself it’s only an excuse from him. An excuse to get her to come over and get all her stuff she has left laying around his house the last year, so he can remove any traces of her ever being in his life.

She still tells him she’ll be there in an hour.

That hour ends up being one of the worst hours of her life. She’s an anxious mess as she tries to get ready and ends up spilling her coffee all over her shirt and the freshly mopped floor. Her favorite cup with a small dachshund painted on it, the one Harry got her after their first date when she told she was obsessed with dachshunds, falls to the floor and breaks in half. She has a mini breakdown over it all.

She’s also about two seconds away from running over an old lady by the crossroads leading up to Harry’s house.

Then when she arrives at Harry’s house she has forgotten the code to get through his gate. She has another breakdown thinking he has changed it because he doesn’t want her to know what it is anymore.

Turns out she only missed a number.

Before she knows she is knocking on his door and just stands there waiting for him to come let her in. Normally she wouldn’t knock and just waltz right in but it didn’t feel right this time. She isn’t sure if she is even allowed to anymore.

So she waits.

When Harry finally opens the door and she is face to face with him again she feels like she might actually collapse. He looks tired, eyes puffy and cheeks rosy, but he still smiles when he sees her. And even though he has his grey hoodie up she can still see the little hair clip on top of his head that’s holding back his damp curls from falling in his face.

“Hi,” she breathes out and clasps her hands together in front of her because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her heart is beating painfully hard inside her chest.

“Hi,” Harry says and takes a step forward as if he is about to pull her into a hug, but he stops himself and takes a step back again. They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity, just taking each other in, before Harry clears his throat and opens the door a little wider for her. “Come in.”

As she passes him she catches a whiff of his perfume and it’s so familiar and calming that she forgets for a moment that they’ve been in a downward spiral for the last month.

But she is quickly reminded of the situation when Harry awkwardly leads her to the lounge and they sit down on opposite ends of the sofa. Her fingers tremble a little as she pushes a couple strands of hair behind her ear. The room is quiet and cold. The whole house smells like detergent and soap, it always did when he hadn’t been home for a while, and she hates it.

“So, um, how was Australia?” she asks, keeping her eyes on the bright colorful painting that hangs on the wall above Harry’s head and avoiding his green ones that are staring her down. She’s positive he can hear how fast her heart is beating.

“It was alright,” Harry answers and tilts his head forward a little, brows drawn together, as he tries to get her to focus on him rather than the painting behind him.

“Good,” she mumbles and takes a shaky breath, still avoiding his eyes. Harry sighs deeply and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. This isn’t like them. Far from. She wants to crawl into his arms; wants to feel the comfort and safety he always brings her when he holds her. Her whole body is screaming for his touch again, but her head stops her - what if he didn’t want to hold her anymore?

“We can’t go on like this,” he tells her then and her blood instantly runs cold.

This is it.

Harry is going to tell her he can’t be with her anymore and it’s her own fault. She pushed him away.

“Okay,” she whispers. Tears are already welling up in her eyes and she is quick to blink them away before they fall. But her vision is still blurry. Her throat feels tight and dry. The room is closing on her and she has to wipe her clammy hands on her pants to make sure she’s still in her own body. A huge part of her wants to run, although she is not too sure her legs will carry her. This is what she gets for pushing him away though she supposes.

“I need to know if you’re leaving or not.”

She snaps her head in his direction as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“What?”

She’s not sure she’s heard him right.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry continues and a small curl falls out of his little hair clip as he shakes his head. “I need answers from you. These past few weeks - I can’t... I need to know where we stand. I need to know if I’ve lost you.”

She blinks.

“Harry, I-“ She can't find her words. She had been so sure that he was going to tell her he was leaving her, that he was tired of her selfishness and wanted nothing more to do with her. Now her whole body is frozen as her mind tries to catch up with what Harry just told her. He looks worn out, sad, and she feels so incredibly stupid. Guilty. This mess is all her fault. “No.”

Harry inhales sharply through his nose and gives her a short nod.

“Alright.” His lips are pressed together, jaw tense, as he averts his gaze to something other than her face, refusing to look at her any longer.

“No Harry, I mean, you haven’t,” she is quick to say when she realises he had misunderstood her words. Her head is spinning. There is so much she needs to say but she doesn’t even know where to start. “You haven’t lost me. I didn’t think- I thought you were leaving me.”

“What?”

And just like that it’s all just too much. The last couple weeks washes over her as soon Harry looks at her again and she notices how glossy his eyes are. She’s overwhelmed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry H,” she cries and hides her face in her hands, finally letting her tears spill over and run hot down her cheeks. “I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

She lets a sob rip from her throat and buries her face deeper into her hands, wishing she could just disappear. Guilt is eating away at her conscience knowing that Harry had walked around thinking she was leaving him while having to go out on stage and put on a good show for thousands of fans. She should’ve talked to him before he left. She should’ve replied to his texts. She feels like the worst fucking person in the entire world.

“Heey, noo, don’t cry.” Harry moves over to crouch down in front of her. His touch burns through the thick denim of her jeans when he puts his arms down on either side of her on the sofa, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her thighs. “Talk to me, Love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she repeats.

“You’re not,” Harry says softly and gently pushes some of her hair away from her face, tapping her fingers lightly to get her to get her to remove her hands from her face and look at him again. When she peeks at him through her fingers she’s met by his small dimple. He takes the opportunity to carefully pry her hands away completely and holds them in his own. “There we go,” he murmurs. “S’just me. You can talk to me.”

“I’m scared,” she admits and runs her fingers over his rings. Harry frowns but doesn’t say anything, just lets her take her time to gather her scattered mind. It’s hard though when he is finally so close again and all she can think about is how good he smells and how familiar and soothing it is to have his hand in hers again. “I don’t know - I guess I just worry that you’ll get tired of me or feel like I’m just holding you back or that you’ll meet someone much more exciting than me while you’re away. I’m terrified that you’re going to wake up one day and realise I’m just some loser who lives a boring life that you actually have no interest of being a part of... And I don’t think my heart could take it.” Her voice cracks with the last part.

Harry holds her hand a little tighter in his.

“I don’t think my heart could take it either,” he tells her.

And even though he is right in front of her, holding her hands in his, she can’t stop the feeling of hopelessness coming over her again. She doesn’t want to lose him. Refuses to be the one who leaves.

But he is going away again soon and she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do when he does. The issues of her feeling alone and insecure are still going to be there, and what happens then? Is she going to put them both through another tortures couple weeks again, where neither of them know where they stand? She can’t do that to him.

“Do you think we can make it work?” she asks him and presses her lips together to stop herself from letting another sob escape her.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully and swallows hard. “But isn’t that part of it? Not knowing. Life is far too short to worry about what might happen in the future. There is alway going to be some bad and some good. The only thing I know for certain right here, right now, is that I love you and that I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Neither do I.”

Harry smiles.

“Okay then,” he says softly and moves himself a little closer to her. “Maybe we can just leave it like that then? And we’ll just figure it out as we go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

There's a moment of silence and she wants to stay in that moment forever. Just the two of them. It’s all she wants. Always. To just be with him.

And when Harry stands up and simultaneously pulls her with him she falls into his arms. His body is so warm against hers and as he grabs her chin and tilts her head back so he can press his soft lips to hers she knows that things will work out between them.

She loves him too much to not at least fight for it.

It will by no means be easy and she knows that when he leaves again in a couple weeks that he is going to take a piece of her heart with him.

But she also knows that she has a piece of his heart with her at all times, and that knowledge fills the small void inside her chest for many years to come.

Let me know what you think! <3

#Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles fluff #requested

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