#-there (the shelf wouldn’t support that weight and also how would they even get up there because there’s a whole chair and a bunch of shoes

[useryoongis]

tw paranoia??? i’m not sure what to call it

[italoniponic]

Fairy Hands | Jack Howl

Synopsis: After the ending of the day’s rehearsal for the Fairy Gala, Jack was already feeling his feet screaming for help but, as always, he wouldn’t say a thing and try to endure the pain the best he could to not worry you. But you noticed it… and you had an idea.

Jack Howl x gender neutral reader / fluff / hurt and comfort / establish relationship / use of “you” pronouns / slightly self-indulgent bc it’s my birthday~

Word count: 3,4k / Warning: This is not meant to be k*nky. If you think so, I’ll bonk you in the head with Jack’s heels

Notes: Okay so, this idea was born after the reveal of the full Fairy Gala2 sprites and I loved Jack’s outfit until I saw the rest of it… the top parts? Good, decent, very Jack-ish. The pants? The heels? Atrocious but that’s just my opinion, who cares right? So I got into this spiral of picturing the fact that Jack never wore this type of thing and as someone who wears heels sometimes, yeah the lack of practice is an enemy :) and I never asked nobody to massage my pained tired feet so, I wanted to imagine making Jack feel better. This also turned more deep in feelings matter, the good old hurt/comfort thing that I love doing with Jack. He fits so well with this trope!! I said once in another fic for him but if you don’t have ideas for Jack, first think of hurt/comfort. It’s a solid start!

And for a title-context: to say that someone has “magic hands”, means that this person is very skilled with their hands. In Brazil, we say “oh, you have ‘fairy hands’ (or hands of a fairy)”. Shoutout to @lovetals who first heard of this idea <3

And for last but not least, happy birthday to me~

Fairy Hands

Jack always had the ability and patience to endure everything. 

Being the eldest of three brothers, he sometimes had to act as a “father” for the younger ones. As a tall guy, everyone asked him to pick up things that were out of reach — or too tall on the shelf. As a strong young man, he impressed students with how much weight he carried. For his newest friends, he needed to be mature and rational and know how to stop them from getting into trouble. 

But even Achilles had his heel. Well, an analogy not very welcome at that time, was what you thought.

You still hadn’t quite understood what the fairies wanted with the school — always the NRC, always — and the weather was so chaotic outside that you didn’t even know how to get from place to place without getting a heat shock. But seeing the boys training a fashion show for the fairies, it was obvious that long days lay ahead. 

And Jack might not survive until there because of the heel they forced him to wear.

It was a silver high-heeled shoe with a somewhat simple design. Strings braided the boy’s ankles like gladiator sandals. A strong heel to support a tall, muscular figure, like Atlas holding the world on his shoulders.

But as much as Jack tried all the time to stay steady and not miss the steps or the choreography once again, you could see the suffering on the surface of his eyes. 

The posture he was forced to have so as not to destabilize himself, the care at every step so as not to fall. The weight of hardships is often shaped from person to person. Some can handle almost anything, others almost nothing. Some people may face an iceberg, but they can’t face a piano. 

“Come on, Jack,” Vil clapped his hands. “High heels never killed anyone.”

You checked the clock, bitterly. Luckily it was almost time to leave because another fifteen minutes and maybe that statistic would actually change.

It was painful to watch that rehearsal. Silver nearly falling asleep while walking, Ortho’s gears needing oil because of the sudden humidity, and Jack feeling like an elephant walking a tightrope. At one point, when he walked back, you needed to run to hold him so as not to fall into a false step.

Jack sighed to himself, tired. Suddenly he looked back and exclaimed. “Silver-senpai!”

The Diasomnia senior woke up just in time before crashing head-on into a mirror on the opposite side of the room. By the great seven, Silver was one point away from developing sleepwalking. 

“Thank you, Jack,” he smiled back at the freshman gratefully and then yawned.

You looked at the heel of Silver’s low boots, small and humble. Why didn’t they choose something like that for Jack? He didn’t need to get taller than he already was. 

But that discussion could wait. You led Jack to a bench near the wall going as comfortably slow as possible because the pain of wearing that shoe was equated with the desire to take it off. He couldn’t force himself too much. Still, Jack’s ears were attentive to everything. 

Maybe it was a Big Brother Syndrome or the result of spending too much time with Ace and Deuce, but Jack paid close attention to everything and cared about his peers even when he should care more about himself. In fact, from what you could see, even in the opportunities to be selfish, he eventually would put the needs of others first. 

When you needed him most to face Leona and Azul. That day, that moment, that exact second. Always. Only fair that you want to take care of Jack. 

You finally got to sit on the bench. Jack almost melted there, body and mind allowing himself a single second of vulnerability — and that was all that lasted. Pulling himself together, he crossed his legs and took off his high heels. 

You were then taken aback by the state of Jack’s foot up close. Taking the shoe from his hands — suppressing a protective urge to aggressively throw it far away from your beloved boyfriend — and setting it aside, you knelt on the ground to analyze that poor, exhausted foot.

“Huh... are you alright?,” Jack asked awkwardly.

You made that same expression when you analyzed strange plants in potions class — these too exotic for the world you used to live in. 

But before your eyes was something not strange, but heartbreaking. And agonizing to your own feet. Marks from the high heel’s laces stood out around Jack’s ankles, leaving his skin slightly red and irritated with skin rash. No wonder it was hurting more than it should.

Because, usually, wearing high heels hurts those who aren’t used to it and gets worse when it isn’t properly shod. 

“You can’t tighten the shoelace so much or your skin will get irritated like that,” you advised him, looking at his foot from all possible angles. “Looks like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

Jack ended up not asking what the hell Thanksgiving was — maybe he would do it later. At that moment, the information about your world that you sometimes let slip could make him curious another time. He took off the other shoe, frustrated. In addition to suffering an entire afternoon, the blame mainly came from him. 

Not that he could know what to do! Give a vacuum cleaner to a cat and maybe the animal will do a better job — though the Ramshackle Ghosts gave a full account of how bad an idea it was.

“I was afraid that if it were too loose, I would fall,” Jack explained, and then sighed. “I'll... try again tomorrow.…”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“No…,” you lightly touched his foot, and he stifled a groan. “…very much…”

Who was he fooling? Or rather, who did you think you were talking to? Jack Howl wouldn’t admit when he wanted to carry your groceries just to help you, obviously he wouldn't be any different with his own pain. Poor thing.

No, maybe it wasn’t the right way to look at the situation. 

You knew Jack was already feeling bad about tying his shoe in the worst way possible, pitying him would only make him feel worse. And that’s not what you wanted. You were determined to do something to help. That’s why Crowley called you a Beast Tamer!

You looked around. Ace had already fled from there centuries ago, Silver was led by a talkative and animated Rook back to Diasomnia and little Ortho commented with Vil and Crewel on the fabulous mechanisms created by his older brother. They were far away enough to not listen or see about what was going on with you two.

It would be easier to convince Jack that way.

“If you want, I can do a massage,” you dropped this sentence on the air.

Because of his tiredness, Jack took a good minute to understand your words and you knew the exact moment of it because his eyes widened in size, distracting you a little because of the golden glow — maybe a little scared — of that beautiful gaze. Jack’s first words were actually small breaths of air before he spoke very quietly:

“M-massage? On my feet?”

“Why would I do it on someone else’s feet?,” you took a deep breath after retorting, not wanting to be rude beyond the limit. 

“B-but... but…”

It's something couples do! Jack wanted to scream but there were still people in the room.

And in a way, there wasn’t much reason for such a scandal. You were a couple after all. But it seemed too soon. Jack was used to seeing more established couples — read: married — doing this type of thing. 

How many times has he seen his mother offer his father a foot massage when he came home tired from work? Or the other way around: his father doing the same thing when his mother was exhausted and in the times when she was pregnant with each of their three children?

It was such a simple and intimate thing in a way. There was a certain degree of trust put into this action, a sense of comfort that only the person who loves you too much can offer.

Maybe it’s not something restricted to couples only, but it’s the only thing Jack could think of.

He wouldn’t go so far as to massage Leona’s feet and even for Ruggie — another veteran he greatly admired — the most he would do was to look after exfoliating soaps and other things that should manage to help foot stay soft and healthy. And how about you? Jack held his own face, trying to control himself. 

He needed focus.

“I promise not to make it weird,” you said suddenly, drawing his attention. Your hands were raised in a sign of promise. “And if you get bothered, just say so. I let go of your foot faster than a hot potato.”

You both looked at his feet at the same time and you regretted making that comparison. 

“O-okay... just a little,” Jack said and you nodded happily.

You tried to get up from there as calmly as possible, but you were so glad that you managed to convince your stubborn boyfriend to get help — and it was so obvious. You darted around the room in search of a towel, some cream, and Jack’s normal uniform to already have it on hand. 

He watched you in the distance, moving his foot in small circles despite the difficulty. He thought it would alleviate the pain but he could hear something cracking along the way. 

Maybe that was one of the reasons he never saw Mrs. Howl wear high-heels at all, just sneakers. She was already tall enough compared to other women and didn’t need to overtake her husband’s already tower height. And those shoes can be awful when they want to be.

“Where is the Prefect going this time?,” Vil asked as he approached.

“Ah…,” Jack swallowed hard, not knowing if he should answer or lie. Damn, were his ears down? They certainly were. Why wasn’t the day over yet?

“Lock the door when you get out, okay? Whatever you're gonna do. Practice, in fact, makes perfection.”

Jack smacked himself on the forehead for misinterpreting that for a brief second — rehearsal practice! — but Vil didn’t seem to notice. He gave the keys to the room and said goodbye to his friend, rubbing his own arms a little as he opened the door and received some cold air. The temperature was still chaotic.

Finally you two were alone. You suddenly appeared with a bunch of things in your arms and after organizing everything, you sat down and used your knee as a temporary support to put Jack’s foot. You looked like a shoe store clerk or someone about to propose.

What was more embarrassing to imagine?

“You ready?,” you asked and Jack sighed a “yes”. 

He closed his eyes, tense and bracing himself mentally for whatever reaction he would have — you swallowed a comment about you just massaging him, not squeezing a pimple. But after the first touch, Jack gradually relaxed. 

You first passed a cream with a light touch of coconut scent. Because of the strange room temperature, the cream felt warm, and you wrapped his foot with all care, massaging it up and down. You could feel all of Jack’s tension, his body felt harder than a rock. 

He was exhausted. A little regretful but still certain that he would do his best to help with the mission. Squeezing that restless foot, you wondered if people didn’t expect too much from him sometimes. They asked too much too often.

You just wanted Jack to relax from time to time. When all this fuss gets over, you’re sure to do something fun and quiet together! You would make it happen!

“Hey!,” Jack's exclamation scared you for a second.

It wasn’t for nothing, you just squeezed the middle of his foot a little too tight.

“Sorry! I got carried away for a moment,” you said, pushing your hands away quickly.

“Alright, just... pay more attention, okay?”

Jack refused to look directly at you, but all he did was swap his left foot for his right. That made you a little more cheerful. It was a small token of his confidence, no big deal — but it meant everything to you. 

The process from before was repeated and you tried to be as attentive as possible this time. The dance hall was in complete silence. There was only some kind of a paced movement of something hitting in the air. For a minute, you were distracted by Jack’s flapping tail, but with a clearing of his throat, you turned your gaze back to what you were doing.

He didn’t want to say that his feet were hurting more than usual. Running and exercising always produced a tired body, but as time went on, Jack got used to the pain and made it a mere unfortunate nuisance that was easy to pull to the back of his mind.

That foot pain, though? As a child, Jack and Vil once found a book of morbid tales and one of them was of a lady who wore beautiful bright red iron shoes and danced to her death — or something, he erased that memory over the years to get close to red sneakers again.

But it was how he was feeling at the time. 

Jack wanted to simply put the blame entirely and solely on his lack of ability to wear those shoes, but it was much more than that — although that was still one of the reasons. He was frustrated with a lot of things.

They had an important mission, Leona and the whole school were counting on them to resolve the situation. Part of Jack shared Ace’s complaints about the fairies making such a mess unnecessarily, though he didn’t verbalize any of it. He wanted to make everything work out and be able to fulfill the goal. 

But Jack didn’t intend to do anything like this again. 

Truth be told, there was no way anyone could be good at everything. He was doing his best, but would it be enough? Could he meet the expectations of others? Even if he wasn’t made for that kind of thing? At least, he didn’t have to worry about what you thought.

This was obvious from the way you so patiently held and massaged his foot as if it were a piece of expensive tapestry that you were carefully folding and smoothing, pulling out all imperfections, relieving stress from the fabric. Jack only knew this because it was the way his mother advised him to keep a good bed with comfortable sheets.

Staring at you from that high point, the uncomfortable feeling of standing still doing nothing and the comfort of receiving a lovely care act were fighting like angry wolves in his heart, wrapped in the silvery glow of the Moon and the thin blouse he wore. 

Jack wondered how you were able to do things like that with him.

Your touch was gentle and pleasant, charged with a sweetness you didn’t share with anyone else. At least not the way he received it. If you gave sugar to your friends, Jack received the most tightly sealed and expensive honey, with a spoon chosen especially for him. Did you really love him that much?

Did you find him enough, even though he was still incomplete and immature at times? In what you circled his heel, what were your thoughts? Jack could only watch you and torture himself with the doubts he didn’t have the courage to express.

Slowly, he ended up distracting himself bit by bit from the pain. It was still there, but your presence alone took that alert away from his nerves. Jack knew he would walk again the next day thanks to you and he felt extremely grateful. He would find a way to compensate you later for all that.

As you were finishing massaging him, you noticed Jack start to pull the flowers out of his hair, the two bracelets and the necklace he had around his neck. It made you smile.

“Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” Jack answered when he pulled the last plant out of his hair, the largest with white “petals”. It was too stiff to be an actual flower in all honesty. “I think I can already walk to my dorm, at least.”

“Oh, okay. Just when I was getting it right…,” you sighed. “Can we do this more often? I m-mean, I don't want you to bruise your feet for anything! Of course not! But...!”

“Yes.”

It took you a moment to absorb that response. 

“Are you serious?!,” your voice ended up sounding loud in the empty room.

“Not all the time but, I think, yeah, it's okay.” 

Jack looked away from you to the echeveria elegans — the “Mexican snowball”, a succulent — in one of his hands, the free one going automatically behind the back of his neck. He just hoped you were excited and distracted enough not to notice how flustered he was.

“Yay!,” you ended up putting your hands on your cheeks. “Um. “

There was a solid minute of silence. Jack stared at you as you took a little sniff, smelling sweat and cream mingle on your face and reaching your sense of smell. A strange feeling, to say the least.

“I… I really shouldn't have done that.” 

Jack couldn’t stand it and laughed a little. 

“Finally a normal reaction.”

“H-how dare you! I have normal reactions!” 

“No, you don’t. You? Where? When?,” he gave another light laugh and you saw his smile increase, to the point that you could see his extremely white fangs glowing.

If Jack knew how much that smile played with your heart, he would also be as embarrassed as you were. But you wouldn’t say anything. Not when Jack smiled at you like that, making the Sun marvel at the golden glow of his gaze and the Moon envy him for his silvery, gentle light. 

Jack didn’t need to be a flower to be admired. He had his own kind of beauty, something that you would nurture to stay in your memory until the very end of your days. 

Because you got distracted for that brief moment, Jack ended up leaving the echeveria on top of your hair. While he picked up his normal shoes, you touched the little white succulent and held it carefully in front of you. 

“I think that ends today then,” you suddenly commented.

“Thank goodness,” Jack tapped his foot one last time to adjust his shoe, and then quickly turned to you, a little desperate. “I'm not talking about this moment! It’s this day in general! That... that whole thing! Not you!”

“I know, don't worry. It's just, I'm gonna have to go back to Ramshackle, you go back to Savanaclaw, and... it's always lonely coming back.”

“I will accompany you there.”

“No, that's not it. In fact, you don't even have to do it today! I don't want to abuse you just because your feet got better.”

Jack gave you a small smile and stroked the top of your head, putting a little pressure — light, gentle — on you to bend down a little and not see how much he looked at you sweetly. If he had the courage and the necessary romantic streak, he would have picked up one of his hair-flowers and proposed to you right there. It was how much he loved you from the bottom of his heart.

“You don't have to worry about that. I’ve already promised that if I need it, I’ll call you again. Thanks for the, um, massage,” he gulped but just for a second. “You have fairy hands.”

At this, Jack relieved the grip on his hand and as he walked, it passed over your head in a stroke so fine as to be elegant. You stared at his back as he continued, resistant. 

It was time for your heart to beat again and Jack to call your name for you to go out together — or he would leave you alone there, it was your second choice. You laughed and as you followed him, you closed the door. Feelings forever in bloom.

Special Notes: Ik it’s explained already about the “Mexican snowball” flower/succulent but I want to make a disclaimer that this is the most similar plant I found to name the one Jack is wearing in his card, so I’m not 100% sure about it but it serves the purposes of this story. Another curious fact is that, in portuguese, this plant is called “stone rose”.

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

this is a continuation of the other one

Y/N stares at him for a long moment, arms crossed and poking her tongue into her cheek. “Why do I feel like I'm Ariel and you’re the sea witch trying to get me to sing into a shell?”

Harry blinks once. “Sorry, what?”

“Oh, right, that was—that was ‘89, wasn’t it?” Y/N bites back a laugh at the scowl that rolls over Harry’s expression. “After your time, I suppose.”

But Y/N isn’t laughing when she has to spend the next two weeks braless. And although she spends the first day being petty under Harry’s keen eye, by the third day, she’s turned the predicament around in her favor.

“Hey, Harry.” She says one night, stirring her pot of pasta on the stove as she sips her eleven dollar wine. “I have a question about our arrangement.”

Harry, who has been leaning over the counter to soak in the aromas of the food that he longs to taste (and also to get a look at Y/N’s cleavage in the v-neck t-shirt she’s wearing), cocks his head to the side and clicks his tongue. “If you're trying to reduce your sentence, don’t even try it.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Y/N murmurs, trailing her lip around the rim of her wine glass as she leans against the counter. “I was just wondering if it has to be only braless with a shirt on top, or if I could wear just a bra or bralette.”

Harry blinks once, his mouth falling open in surprise. “I—what?”

“Like, I have this little cotton Calvin Klein bralette, and it’s super comfy, and still gives me some support, but my cleavage and such is still decently on display.” Y/N clarifies with a smug grin, setting down her glass against the fake marble counter as she stretches to reach the spice cabinet. “I think that could fulfill our agreement, no? You know what bralette I’m talking about, right? You’ve probably seen it when you’ve been snooping around.”

Harry looks at her carefully, trying to catch the trick behind her all-too generous offer. He replies in a measured tone, leaning against the fridge as his eyes glue to the way her chest heaves as she teeters forwards on her tiptoes to grab a condiment. “I know the one, yes. Peachy pink, right? With a thick band and slightly ruffled fabric at the center?”

“That’s the one, yup.” Y/N pops the last letter of the word, wiggling her fingers to try and grab the oregano from the highest shelf. “It’s a nice number, I think, and going around braless for so long does my back in sometimes.”

Harry pushes off the barrier he’s using as support, drifting towards Y/N as she stands before her cupboards, one hand propped against the counter to boost herself up as the other fishes for the small container a few inches from the tips of her fingers. He stops right beside her, looking down at her with that same calculating gaze he had across the room. He’s still trying to sus out her angle, but little does he know that what she’s trying to implement is going to work out for both of them.

She’s grown quite fond of the extra attention he’s been giving her, and for some odd reason, she feels a deep sense of pleasure every time she catches him staring at her chest. Maybe it’s the way his eyes glint longingly as he ogles, or the way he’ll chew into his cheek or along his bottom lip or into the side of his finger as he follows the outline of her cleavage, or maybe it’s that when she catches him gawking, he’ll hold intense eye contact with her for a second before casting his gaze away to some other unimportant object.

Maybe it was that one time yesterday where she’d managed to pull an actual reaction out of him. They had been watching a rerun of a Scooby Doo movie, and she could feel his ghastly eyes pinned to her bust, probably because she had lied down on her stomach across her sectional sofa as he had sat on the floor in front of it, so when he turned his head, her chest had been less than a foot away. And as if that wasn’t enough, she had purposefully flushed it against the couch cushion below to make it seem extra plump and appealing, which would have knocked the air from Harry’s lungs if he still had them.

He’d released a soft whimper so broken and needy, Y/N had to fight off a conceited grin to avoid letting him know she was doing this to him with actual intention. She’d pretended not to hear it, but she had allowed herself to indulge the flare of satisfaction that rose from watching him shift his sitting position a bit, as if something were growing heavy between his thighs. His actions had vaguely made her wonder if ghosts could even feel arousal, and if they could, she hoped he was. It was the perfect revenge, because she at least knows that he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not with anyone else, at least.

Y/N watches as Harry reaches an arm up, easily reaching the bottle she’s attempting to retrieve. He swipes his hand across the container, the motion managing to knock it off the shelf and into her awaiting palm. She’s learned that in order to touch objects, he has to put in quite a bit of energy and concentration to succeed in breaking through the dimensional barrier that separates the living from the dead. Garnering the slightest contact can sometimes drain him a great deal, so when he does make it his mission to touch something, he does it with as little impact as possible to save his energy for later, in case he wants to grab something for an extended period of time, or grasp a heavier weight that would require more exertion.  

“Thanks.” She smiles up at him innocently, blinking her lashes with a slightly sultry air as she closes the cupboard slowly.

Harry swallows heavily, glimpsing down at where her chest is still heaving from when she’d made a grand effort to collect the ingredient she needed. He hates how his little cheeky plan had recently become the bane of his undead existence, given that Y/N had recently begun using it to her advantage. But he can’t complain, because he’s getting exactly what he asked for. He just wishes he could get more.

His voice comes out low and strained as his eyes coast back up to meet her own, which are dancing with smug amusement. “You’re welcome.”

“So what do you say?” Y/N asks, uncapping the spice and sprinkling a liberal amount into her sauce. “Think we could tweak our deal?”

Harry pulls himself back onto the counter, tapping his fingers against the surface without making a sound. “I suppose.” He replies after a moment, eyes flickering to Y/N’s chest once more as she leans down to taste the sauce. “The bralette should be fine, as long as it’s not too padded.” He shoots her a cheeky grin. “I like a bit of nipple, you know that.”

“You’re gross.” Y/N scoffs, shaking her head as she sets down the wooden spoon on the stove. “I'm gonna go change, then. Watch this for me, will you?”

And Harry does rather diligently, inhaling the flavorful aromas rising from the stove. He wishes, for the billionth time in his thirty odd years of death, that he could taste food. He knows he doesn’t need it, but even just having its essence pass over his tongue would be enough for him. He misses pasta, he thinks, staring longingly at the noodles boiling away on the stove. And pizza, and fish, and steak, cooked perfectly with a delicious side of mashed potatoes and gravy, just pink enough in the middle that it’s still tender—

“You didn’t burn down the kitchen. Good job!” Y/N’s voice calls from behind, and the ghost turns around with a retort on his lips that quickly falls away once he sees her.

She’s put on the bralette just as she said she would, and it’s everything he’s ever dreamed of. The cotton is thin enough that he can see the clear outline of what he wants through the article, and the halter neckline lands low enough that he can see every dip and curve of her breasts. A band of her stomach is exposed beneath the labeled elastic lining the bottom of the fabric, and the soft skin seems to call to Harry, making him desperate to touch it. Y/N’s decided to swap her sweatpants as well, it seems, as she’s now dressed in a loose pair of heather grey shorts that sit above her belly button and barely cover the curve of her ass. The loose legs flutter up with her every movement, and if she were about to bend over just a smidge, he could—

“How’s this?” The girl asks, flicking her loose hair over her shoulder with a simper. “Does it meet the requirements?”

Harry clears his throat, his words coming out as a pained groan. “God, you’re a fucking bitch, you know that?”

Y/N sputters into a round of airy laughter, coming to stand before him with her hands perched on her hips. Her tone is innocent, but her true intentions are written clear across her face, obvious in the way her lips twitch with evil delight. “How so? I’m abiding to our terms!”

“You’re giving me the world’s worst case of blue-balls, is what you’re doing.” Harry bites back, his sharp jaw clenching and full lips pressing into a bothered grimace. “And you’re doing it on fucking purpose.”  

“You made your casket, now lie in it.” Y/N states brightly, shrugging her brows with finality.

“Harsh.” Harry mumbles, but he can’t fight off the amused grin that tweaks his dimples into place.  

Harry slips off the counter again onto his feet, not being able to stay still. There’s a peculiar buzzing sensation coursing through each of his ghostly limbs, and anytime he stays put, it intensifies to the point where he feels like he’s going to explode into a shower of static.

He saunters up behind Y/N, looking over her shoulder as she regains her previous activity of mixing the contents in the pot while they simmer their way to completion. Despite not being able to touch her, he can still smell her just fine, and her homey scent of chamomile and jasmine are ever welcomed. She just smells so much like a girl, for a lack of a better explanation, and Harry hasn’t been this close to one his own age since before he passed. It’s driving him to the brink.

“I’d give you a taste if I could.” Y/N's soft, teasing voice echoes against his ears as she cranes her neck to look at him. “It’s a family recipe.”

“Yeah...” Harry locks eyes with her for a moment, and his hand instinctively reaches down to grasp at her waist. Instead of being met with the warm sturdiness of what he knows would be her silky skin, he’s met with the typical icy fizzing sensation that constantly haunts him whenever he tries to make contact with a living being. His digits pass right through her hip, though she barely seems to notice, the only palpable indication of his attempt being a cold breeze wafting across her flesh.

He knows it’s something that is extremely easy to brush off, usually as a simple draft from the air conditioning, given the similarities between the two experiences. And that’s exactly what she appears to do as she gives a light, dismissive shiver, not paying it any mind.

The ghost tries his best to keep his disappointment from registering in his mood, and his tone instead fills with an unreadable emptiness that only he can truly interpret. Below it lies a double meaning, and it has to do with way more than just the general desire to be able to experience the taste of good again; it holds a certain longing that pertains to a deeper type of hunger, but again, only he can truly decipher it. “Yeah, I can only dream of it.”

[thefanbasewhore]

"What did they do to you?" With mando saving you

Summary: "What did they do to you?" With Din Djarin from the prompt list I reblogged. Din rescues a stranger.

Warning/Content: abuse, violence, bruises but not from Din himself. This is soft Din with a complete stranger. Not edited and short!

Paring: Din Djarin/Female reader

"What did they do to you?" The Mandalorian's voice is just under a whisper, gloved fingers finding your chin, the only part of your face not covered with large purple bruising. He could tell it's been a while, the yellowish hues peaking through the darkness.

You didn't move, still completely arrogant that the stranger had managed to sneak up on you, let alone touch your face. Lashes lay against the highest point of your cheeks, lips parted as shallow breath fall from parted lips. The skip in your chest told Din that you were hurt, the inside matching the patches of bruises that litter your body, dried blood matting against your hairline along your lips as well.

Someone had done a number on you and judging by the cuffs around your wrist as you slump over the bed they were done yet. It was supposed to be a simple bounty hidden away in a base of some self named ruler but somehow he managed to slip away leading the Mandalorian having to track him down, he left no door unturned but regrets opening this one as the imagine will always be burned in a part of his memory.

Woman were sacred to Mandalorians, a symbol of strength, nurture the foundlings, carry and care for the future. Without woman, Mandalorian's would seize to exists, Din can imagine the rest of the universe as well. You were tucked into the corner of the room when he approached you, his hands touching your face was to wake you but it was no use.

He tries to leave, tries to look for the bounty but can't even make it past the door way when he's shifting his feet to turn back around. He towers over you as you begin to wake, hard and tall from all the basker, arms reach out to grasp the wall in shock, looking for something to protect yourself with but there is nothing.

He's like a wall when you push against the chest plate, basker doesn't make a sound as he kneels in front of you, hands hesitantly reach for your own, you let out a small squeal, eyes leaving the visor as they squeeze shut in anticipation and anxiety. His hands effortlessly rip the shackles from the wall, a smooth line of static. "Come with me."

Shakily legs that haven't bared weight in days won't allow you too, "We don't have much time before they notice I'm here, if you want to get out of here you have come with me."

There's a plea in the way he talks, it's smooth but desperate like he couldn't live with leaving you here. The 'T' shaped darkness never leaves your own face as you open your mouth to speak. "I-I can't."

Din suddenly feels dumb, hands so softly wrapping around your waist, fingers delicately pressing against the thin fabric of your own shirt. "Does this hurt? I'm going to have to..."

He doesn't know what to say.. hurt you? You already look like you are in so much pain, there's no doubt from the bruising that covers bare arms, dark ringlets of finger pads on your throat and face that the underneath the tunic is just as bad.

"It's fine." No matter how gentle he is there's a dull sting, you bit your lip to try and hide it but it's useless as a whimper falls from your lips. His shoulders drop the moment he hears it, you imagine his own eyes scanning yours as his directs his way to you again.

"Can you walk?" You nod as he reaches for the blaster from the holster on his side, "Stay behind me, they didn't notice me before but I picked off a few so it's any minute they will realize I'm here."

You didn't even get the chance as he's gently casting you behind him, a protective stance that makes your heart pound. "If I say run, you run. There's a ship at the edge of the tree line, go to it and hide."

Despite the amount of blasters that filled the air, the amount of rooms you passed through the man with the armour managed to prosper, keeping his promise to keep you safe. The treeline wasn't far, the hints of grey of the ship could be seen through the gaps of trees. Your chest hasn't stopped moving, pants falling from your lips as you lean against the tree for support.

If it's wasn't for it the mandalorian would never even know you stopped. He turns rather quickly, pointing out the obvious. "You're hurt."

The way you squeezed your eyes with stinging tears, throat burning deep into your chest. The air hurt despite how much your lungs begged for more. "I-I.."

It's breathless, a wheeze as you press your hands against your chest bunching the fabric against your chest. Din's fingers touch your neck, sliding down to feel your diaphragm, unsteady under his own trembling palm. "It's your lungs, can you make it to the ship? I can help you."

"They're going to kill me.." you ignore his words as tears slide past eye lids, the way the bruises contour your face makes him feel sick. How dare someone do this to you? "He said he'll never let me go, he means it. He will find me."

"I'll help you." Despite how much his mind screams at him, tells him he has enough to worry about with the kid. It seems the Mandalorian has a thing for taking in strays. "I'll take care of you."

Your hand finds his own, accepting the offer, any shred of hope to be freed from the prince. The moment you enter the ship, he sits you down, climbing the ship's ladder and in seconds in hyperspace.

Din's hands find your shoulders by surprise as you let out a soft huff. "It's okay.. I, Ugh, I'll get the med pack."

As his shaky fingers start to unbutton your shirt in order to hear your lungs better he wants to ask who you are? What happened?

Why were you so badly beaten? Who wouldn't let you go? But by the way your face is angled up to the ceiling, tears stinging eyes, using his shoulders as support for your own hands he decides it's best not too. The device in his hand is pressed against your chest, the gears whirl as the hydraulics begin to huff out hair. When the device beeps he lets out a sigh of relief, nothing too bad, an infection nothing that couldn't be fixed. You didn't even notice the Mandalorian left laying you softly against the blanket he managed to lay on the floor.

Bottles fall to the ground in a hurry as the mandalorian fusses through the shelf. "Come on, come on." It's under his breath as he lets out a small huff as he finally manages to find the bottle.

It's too late, your eyes are flickering close, consciousness leaving as you slip into darkness. "Hey, hey." Din shakes your shoulders but nothing is received.

He's sitting in front of your, pulling you into his lap so your shoulder is against the valley of his chest, hand knotting between the strands of your hair to keep you up. His other hand holds a pill but also tilts your chin to open your mouth. "Take it please."

There's no answer, he lifts his leg for his knee angles to keep you up right, digging into your back but it is not bothersome at the moment. His hand rubs the front of your neck, softly moving against the skin, applying slight pressure trying to get your throat to react to the muscle memory of swollowing. As your throat moves the pill is gone, he sighs in relief as his own forehead presses against the top of your head.

The pill works almost instantly, chest once again moving with no pain, air easily moving through. The mandalorian doesn't dare move, he holds the woman in his arms close despite only meeting you moments ago but it feels nice.. something he's never experienced before.. the warmth of someone this close. Eye lids flicker as fingers reach for his own that trace the nasty bruising on your cheeks.

"Thank you.." the words are so quiet, but sweet. They make his cheeks red, as fingers press against the helm of basker.

"they won't find you. I'll protect you." Is all the he promises, Din Djarin had added another stray to his misfit clan.

[vivithefolle]

I just wanna ask, and don’t get mad at me cause I’m genuinely curious, how do you stan Ron? Like, I like him, but he is definitely misogynistic (slut shaming Ginny, treating hermione like she owes him something and being mad that she kissed someone years before, always objectifying Fleur, and acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much). Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO

how do you stan Ron? 

Like this:

OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM DID YOU SEE MY BABY OH MY GOD. WHEN HARRY’S ARM HAD GONE KABLOOIE BECAUSE OF LOCKHART AND HE. RON. HE WAS. HELPING HIM GET DRESSED???? OH MY GOD BABY???? HHHHNNNNGGGG. AND. AND. AND ALSO WHEN HE. OMG. WHEN HE WAS PUTTING FOOD ON HIS FRIENDS’ PLATES LIKE. MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT. AND THE WAY HE’S ALWAYS BLUSHING AND BEING EMBARRASSED AT THE SLIGHTEST PRAISE BUT ALSO HE’S SO DESPERATELY SEEKING IT BUT HE KNOWS HE CAN’T TAKE IT AND EEK EEK EEK THAT’S SO CUTE SOMEONE HOLD ME IT’S ADORABLE RONALD WEASLEY YOU ARE SO GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME IT’S ILLEGAL TO BE THIS CUTE!!!!

Ok and then.

he is definitely misogynistic 

No. And here’s why.

slut shaming Ginny 

Yes, that was wrong. And guess what, that’s also something he probably - scratch that, definitely - picked up from his mother. And also his brothers, recall how Fred and George too don’t like to see Ginny go around with boys. There’s also something to recall: Ron was there when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and learned later that it was because she had trusted an older guy. You seriously wouldn’t be paranoid about who your sister dates after that? It was wrong. Yeah. And he more than learned his lesson when Ginny clapped back by virgin-shaming him and basically told him that he was childish because he hadn’t have a relationship yet. So would that make Ginny sexist too? Or is it just for Ron?

treating hermione like she owes him something 

..................... uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... when? When the fuck did anything like that happen?

He made a prat of himself at the Yule Ball, that much is obvious. But he didn’t tell her anything like “you should be with me” or didn’t insinuate anything of the sort. He was a jealous bitch but kept attacking Krum, not Hermione.

If you mean in sixth year when he treated her with “icy, sneering indifference” for the course of two weeks, yeah that was bad but that’s not “treating her like she owes him something”, the fuck?

being mad that she kissed someone years before 

Yeah. I know. And that was bad, ooooh you got me to admit Ron did bad stuff, that’s what you want to see, right? And I reckon he was also mad that she hid it from him, and that he had to learn it from his sister of all people. We see Ron handles what he considers betrayals terribly. I have some meta discussing the possibility that he has a form of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.

always objectifying Fleur 

Um... no, he doesn’t. He makes a stupid comment about her once in GOF then stops. Let’s also fucking remember that Fleur is a Veela, she literally makes guys stare at her as part of her powers!! I’m not blaming her because she’s literally born that way, but you can’t blame someone who is under magical compulsion either.

acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much 

So tell me why he was friends with Hermione then?

Because Hermione wasn’t Emma Watson the super hawt sexy model goddess. Hermione was Mrs Generic. Until this once at the Yule Ball when she got the pretty princess perfect Mary Sue makeover but then stopped because she had to remain ~relatable uwu~.

Again. Ron made stupid sexist comments. But it’s actively shown that he doesn’t follow up on them. If he did indeed live by the motto “girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much”, explain to me why he wasn’t simping and drooling all over Padma Patil who is explicitly stated to be one of the prettiest girls at school when she was his date? Why exactly did he ignore her and was a miserable twat the whole evening instead of basking in the joy of having snagging a girl that was “worth it”? Well surprise, it’s because HE ACTUALLY ISN’T LIKE THAT AND WHAT HE SAYS IS MAYBE SHIT HIS “COOL OLDER BROTHERS” SAY AND HE THINKS THAT BY EXTENSION IT WOULD MAKE HIM COOL TO REPEAT IT. MIMETISM, THAT'S BASIC FUCKING HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY FOR FUCKING TODDLERS MY FUCKING GOD.

Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, 

............

...................................

...............................................................

so. so why. so why wouldn’t you. use that. as a reason. to stan him.

like.

fuck all the “hurr durr ron weasley the boy who made it out of the friendzone!!!!” bullshit, let’s start going with “Ron Weasley, the Boy who became a Man, and not one of those 'uugghh im such an alpha male’ ones but one that’s got the balls to say ‘hey love, I’ve got an idea, what if you kept doing that job you love and feel passionate about while I support you and do the majority of the childcare while also working a smaller job on the side so we’re never short on money’“

Why you people gotta be “yeah I like Ron BUTT” when you know full-well this fucking awful fandom will rake him over hot coals over the slightest mistake he does - worse, will actively go out of their way to interpret his positive moments in the most negative way possible??? Fuck off with that bullshit. Ron dared to say bad stuff omygah big deal, he was forgiven for it all and you’re just all cowards looking to feel “pure” by telling yourself “oh yeah but he was problematic once uwu”. FUCK. THAT. NOISE.

but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO 

And IMO he’s not, funny how that works

So.

I guess it’s impossible to stan Ron because he was problematic uwu.

Ok.

Then I hereby decree that it’s impossible to stan Hermione Granger because:

“I’ll bet you wish you hadn’t given up Divination now, don’t you, Hermione?” asked Parvati, smirking. [...] “Not  really,”  said  Hermione  indifferently,  who  was  reading  the  Daily Prophet. “I’ve never really liked horses.” She turned a page of the newspaper, scanning its columns. “He’s not a horse, he’s a centaur!” said Lavender, sounding shocked. “A gorgeous centaur . . .” sighed Parvati. “Either  way,  he’s  still  got  four  legs,”  said  Hermione  coolly.  “Any-way, I thought you two were all upset that Trelawney had gone?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 27

wow casual use of a racial slur yay!!! A+

And it’s also forbidden to stan Harry Potter either since:

It was raining hard now, and she was nowhere to be seen. He simply did not understand what had happened; half an hour ago they had been getting along fine. “Women!”  he  muttered  angrily,  sloshing  down  the  rain-washed  street with his hands in his pockets. “What did she want to talk about Cedric  for  anyway?  Why  does  she  always want to drag up a subject that makes her act like a human hosepipe?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 25

and

“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!”  “What’s  happened  to  you?”  asked  Harry,  for  Hermione  looked  distinctly  disheveled,  rather  as  though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare.  “Oh,  I’ve  just  escaped  —  I  mean,  I’ve  just  left  Cormac,”  she  said.  “Under  the  mistletoe,”  she  added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.  “Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely.  “I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —”  “You considered Smith?” said Harry, revoked. - Half-Blood Prince

Victim-blaming! Nice Harry, nice. Always classy.

Ok, Ginny stanning is already cancelled because she virgin-shamed Ron, right, so who’s left, who’s left... ah yeah:

“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” - Half-Blood Prince

Selling date rape drugs proudly ouh là là. Bye Fred.

"Do they work?” she asked.  “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question...”  “...and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not  selling  them  to  our  sister,”  he  added,  becoming  suddenly  stern,  “not  when  she’s  already  got  about five boys on the go from what we’ve...”  “Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.

Assuming that only girls use love potions, and only on boys. Men never rape in JKR’s world, only women do, you heard it from George Weasley here folks, I’m just passing on the message. Ah and I hope you’re also starting the Fred And George Hate Club given how he’s also slut-shaming Ginny.

“What’s this?”  “Guaranteed  ten-second  pimple  vanisher,”  said  Fred.  “Excellent  on  everything  from  boils  to  blackheads,  but  don’t  change  the  subject.  Are  you  or  are  you  not  currently  going  out  with  a  boy  called Dean Thomas?” “Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?”  She  was  pointing  at  a  number  of  round  balls  of  fluff  in  shades  of  pink  and  purple,  all  rolling  around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.  “Pygmy  Puffs,”  said  George.  “Miniature  puffskeins,  we  can’t  breed  them  fast  enough.  So  what  about Michael Corner?”  “I  dumped  him,  he  was  a  bad  loser,”  said  Ginny,  putting  a  finger  through  the  bars  of  the  cage  and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. “They’re really cute!”  “They’re  fairly  cuddly,  yes,”  conceded  Fred.  “But  you’re  moving  through  boyfriends  a  bit  fast,  aren’t you?”  Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil.  “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”

Ah, good on you for defending yourself, Ginny, but remember, Ginny stanning is prohibited because she’s been problematic in the past and is gonna be problematic in the future and that’s baaaaaaad. Careful kids, don’t get ideas. It’s problematic to like people who’ve done problematic things.

So I guess nobody can like anything or anyone now. Sorry guys. Liking things is evil, what if the thing you liked had, OR USED TO HAVE, *gasp* flaws, can’t take that risk, ohmygah.

[dragonsareourfuture]

Light Yagami/GN! L’s Sibling!Reader — Protector

⚠️Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, manipulation, reader experiences grief, major character death, open ending.

requested by @darkrose33 ! sorry this took so long, I mostly finished writing it and then changed ideas halfway through, so I rewrote it all lol. I could not think of a way that the dynamic and story line that was requested could work in the context of a healthy relationship, so this isn't exactly a happy or romantic oneshot. I wanted to make this as realistic to Light's motivations and character as I could. I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted but you can always request something else if you would like :)

For as long as you can remember, your big brother was the person you looked up to the most. He was the brains, the one who had no trouble with the academics but every ounce of trouble with the social aspect of life. He wasn’t one to care what people thought about him socially, which in turn allowed him to behave however he wanted. He was an expert at leaving a room silent and stunned with just his words because of his lack of filter, telling only the brutal, honest truth when necessary. You couldn’t help but admire L Lawliet more than anything else in the world.

And because you held such admiration for the boy, you appointed yourself to be the role of his protector. Some kid called him a weirdo behind his back? Not to worry, with a little persuasion you can get them to apologize. He’s feeling overworked and you overhear one of the adults talking about a pile of paperwork they are about to drop off to L’s room? Huh, it seems that paperwork somehow ended up in the fireplace, nothing but a pile of ashes left of it. How strange. However you could protect him, you took on that challenge, even if it was simply being in the same room as him for emotional support. If you knew he needed to consume at least one vegetable that week, you were there to deliver, even if you had to hide it in a piece of cake. Whatever you could do, you did. Some told you that was what made you two so interesting – he was the brains, and you were the brawn, but you both needed each other to balance out. Like Yin and Yang.

So imagine your despair when, quite suddenly, L didn’t need you anymore. He was solving more cases, gaining in fame as the world’s greatest detective in his mere teenage years. He would, undoubtedly, need more protection than little ol’ you could provide once professional criminals found the desire to seek him out and kill him. And of course you wanted him to be safe, wanted him to thrive in the occupation that he excelled at, but…you missed your big brother with all of your heart. Not a day went by that you didn’t wish you could bring L his lunch or defend his honor out in the kickball field when some kid wouldn’t shut their big fat mouth. You missed those days.

You heard about the Kira case and how it was kicking everyone on the task force’s ass, including L’s. It only made you wish you could be there more. You kept up on the news, though. It was just about the only thing you could do. You tried to distract yourself with your own studies, but it was difficult to even try when you knew you could never in your wildest imagination come close to rising above your big brother.

You kept reminding yourself that you were grown now. You were fully capable of making a life for yourself that didn’t involve L – that didn’t include worrying about him every few moments. So you worked however pointless it may have seemed. You cooked, you did chores, even started taking up odd jobs to complete during the little free time you would have spent sleeping if you weren’t prone to dreams about the danger L could be in. Every moment in life was spent trying not to worry…only for you to realize that you had every right to worry all along.

The news itself was not particularly surprising. L and every single one of his runners up had to write out their will in advance – about a decade early. Death was to be expected in that line of work.

You had since moved out of Wammy’s house officially, but always stuck around to do the gardening, occasionally the cooking as well. Also the cleaning…you were basically the Wammy house maid, but you were grateful for the distractions.

When the news came, you were in the middle of planting a batch of bulbs you had bought at the store the previous day – white lilies. You had nearly passed them by in favor of a more colorful flower, but when your eyes caught the lack of pigment of the fully grown lily on the packaging, you couldn’t help but be reminded of your big brother’s pale as bone skin. You had chuckled at the memory, blinked away a few rising tears, and plucked the bulbs from the shelf. Now, with about half of the bulbs buried under the soil and half waiting to be planted, you listened to Roger’s words grow increasingly louder the closer he came to where you sat crouched in the dirt. You wished you hadn’t listened, though. For he only brought you sorrow.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Roger when he had come to tell you of your brother’s passing, it was simply that it was near impossible for you to imagine a world without the eccentric boy you’d grown up alongside. Sure, you’d been separated for some time now, but you’d grown used to knowing that even if he wasn’t with you, he was still somewhere fighting for the justice he believed in. To be told that he suddenly wasn’t in this world anymore…? You had to see it for yourself. So, despite Roger’s warnings, you ran inside and booked a flight to Japan as soon as you could. In your blind panic, you must have trampled the remaining bulbs you had yet to give life to.

…

The flight was stressful, the landing equally so. The drive to the task force building – torture. By the time you made it out of the car and through the doors of the task force building, you swore your throat was closing up. A glass of water was offered to you and, gratefully accepting the offer, you glugged the water down in a matter of seconds before someone else was offering you a seat.

You sat, pulling your legs up and curling them in. The chair was then pushed into place at a table and the man who offered it to you…placed a hand on your shoulder…?

You jolted, the empty cup in your hands almost toppling out of your grip.

“I’m sorry…! I should have asked first. My apologies…and my condolences.”

He appeared younger than everyone else around you. Young enough to be just about your age. His apologetic smile shone down on you like a beacon of light in the dark and dreary times you had seemingly been trapped in for so long. After that thought, you had stared in disbelief when he told you his name. Light. Fitting, you thought.

Light placed a hand onto the chair next to you, looking at you as if for permission. You nodded vaguely, hoping to convey your silent gratitude for him being so considerate. It wasn’t as if no one else had been this kind to you since hearing about the news, it was more so that you got the sense Light actually cared rather than simply spouting out the usual ‘I’m sorry’s you’re supposed to when someone experiences a loss. His words were not empty; they were full of life and intent. What that intent was, you didn’t know, but you wanted to keep feeling it over the usual hollow atmosphere you and your brother grew up in. So, before you knew it, you were spending hours at a time talking with Light Yagami, the very man who would be taking over the Kira case since your brother’s death.

It was indeed shocking to you how someone so young, even young in comparison to L, could lead an entire investigation. Granted, he had the rest of the task force by his side, but after only one day of observing their dynamic, you could feel the disconnection between them. Light was multiple steps ahead of them; there was no question about it. At times you got the sense he was keeping things from them. But, then again, you were almost certain L had done the same thing while he was leading them. It was difficult to blame someone so intelligent when they wanted to save time and not explain to everyone what their plan is, but lead them all like sheep. It would be faster that way, easier too.

With that final thought, the pedestal you were putting Light on became visible to you. But it couldn’t be a bad thing. It was normal for you to look up to your brother, yes? With Light, it was a different sensation altogether, but the same idea. You admired him, and you couldn’t see the harm in that when he was rubbing your back in comforting circles as you cried, talking to you and telling stories when you wanted to focus on something else. He was helping you, and because he wanted to, no less.

…

It was a strange sensation to wake up and have everyone you know suddenly become cautious around you, treating you like glass that would break if they said the wrong thing. After just a few minutes of this, you knew exactly what day it was. It somewhat startled you, your brother’s funeral being so soon. You wondered if the date had been pushed up, but no. You had simply been…distracted. In a good way, that is. When you first arrived in Japan, you thought that nothing but dread would accompany your visit. You had no clue how you would make it through the couple of days leading up to the funeral, how you would occupy your time. Sightseeing felt disrespectful. Besides, how could you appreciate fine architecture or lush greenery with such a weight in your heart, spreading throughout your body like a disease? What you hadn’t expected was to find someone who seemingly made everything more bearable. Someone who made the days pass faster.

This special someone helped you into your outfit – all black, casual yet put together. Light was gentle with you that day. Not skittish or cautious like the others were, but soft and loving. He would touch you, hands on your shoulders and a brush of his fingers through your hair every now and then, but it would be feather light and comforting all the same. He knew exactly how to make you feel noticed and cared for, but not in the least bit overwhelmed with affection – a perfect medium.

Driving to the graveyard was not as stressful as your initial drive from the airport. You originally suspected this was the case because you had time to accept the reality of it all; you were able to let the information ferment and sink in. But, as you got steadily closer to your destination and all the grief you had avoided for the last few days began to bubble to the surface of your mind, you realized this was not the case. What you had time to do was ignore the truth, become distracted as you always did. It had always been your way of dealing with your own problems. It was L’s problems you could face head on. But anything personal to you? No sir. You desperately wished you’d taken the time to develop a better coping mechanism as the car pulled into the small patch of asphalt among a sea of grass and graves.

You hadn’t even realized how fast you were breathing until Light clasped your hand, his free hand reaching to turn your head to face him directly. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” You nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to take slower, deeper breaths, alright?” you nodded again and followed his instructions – in then out at a slow pace, inhaling as deeply as you could before blowing the air from your mouth. You squeezed Light’s hand and sent him a weary smile when you had gathered your wits.

The fresh air did you good as you stepped out of the car, shoes crunching in the loose grains of asphalt and soon gliding through blades of grass. You started to calm down, internally congratulating yourself for not freaking out with each step. This was the continued routine until the gravestone came into view. The task force was heading toward it, so no doubt it was L’S. It was marked by a fairly large, golden cross that reflected the setting sun like a mirror. You ducked your head, pretending that it was indeed the sun in your eyes that caused you to stop and cover your face. You waved for Light to go on ahead and assured him you would meet him there in a bit. You were absolutely sure no one bought your excuse, but they still respected your wishes and left you behind to gather around your brother’s grave while you turned your back to it.

You walked back to the car almost on autopilot. You could barely see, so you trained your eyes on the ground as tears freely flowed down your cheeks, not a sound leaving your lips until you were safely beside the vehicle you arrived in. You stomped your foot in the asphalt, kicked the loose pebbles around, feeling just like the child you used to be. Throwing a tantrum was not on your funeral to-do list, but there you were. You just didn’t know if you could bear it, seeing your brother for the last time as nothing but a slab of stone. You could sit by it, protect it all you wanted but it would never need you. Not like he used to. You could plant those lilies you had abandoned by it. That wasn’t actually a terrible idea.

You didn’t know how long you were standing there, pacing in the middle of the parking lot. Mustn’t have been too long, as the sun hadn’t even passed over the horizon, but it felt like an eternity.

Until…what was that? Something caught your attention, causing your head to snap up in search for the source. The others were nowhere in sight, all that stirred were a couple of birds from a nearby tree. That could have been another family visiting a grave, which would make sense given that the noise sounded similar to hysterical crying. Or…was that laughter?

You began to grow worried, deciding on a whim to check up on the others. You wouldn’t approach the grave unless you had to, you decided. Yeah, good plan, you managed to convince yourself as you took steps toward the grave. With every few feet, the noises grew louder, and you were soon able to recognize words. You sped up your pace until you made it over the hill that separated the parking lot from the field only to find…

What was Light doing on the ground? No, a better question would be: what was Light – the person who was working his ass off to catch Kira – doing kneeling on your brother’s grave, shouting that he would get rid of the police? That this is his perfect victory? That he wins?

You felt…what? What could sum up that feeling that filled your chest when that sight was exposed to you? You felt confused, you felt unsure. Then, with the realization of what was going on, you felt betrayal. Then, in a sudden wave intense enough to make you feel as though you would fall over, you felt furious. You felt a sudden need to protect your older brother just like you had done for years with playground bullies and critics, but this time with someone you thought you could trust. Someone you loved who had apparently taken advantage of your care for him – someone who had lied to your face about who they truly were.

Before you knew it you were sprinting across the field. You had no clue what you were going to do until you got to the grave and quite literally kicked him off the soil your own flesh and blood was buried under. The move was so swift you wondered if it had actually happened or if this was all some sick nightmare. God, you hoped it was. Although you almost didn’t want to pray to god now, as there was a self-proclaimed god sitting with the wind knocked out of him at your feet.

“You…you GODDAMN FUCKING TRAITOR—” you couldn’t tell if Light was actually looking at you with eyes glinting with fear or if the sunset lighting was playing tricks on you. “THAT’S MY FUCKING BROTHER—YOU CAN’T—I SHOULD NEVER HAVE—” It was impossible to finish a sentence or even a thought in your own brain. There were so many things you wanted to say and kill him for but right now everything was jumbled together.

The way Light was staring at you didn’t exactly help. Eyes that now looked red in the setting sun bore into your own pupils from the ground. He looked dead serious, almost angry that you had the guts to knock him to the ground in your fit of rage. But although your words were coming out in screaming stutters your movements seemed swift and sure, as the moment Light moved to stand up your foot flew to action once more and planted right onto his chest. His back met the ground for a second time. He wasn’t even trying to contain his fury, clawing at your ankle and baring his teeth like a dog trying his best to be intimidating, but still eager to know what you were planning to do next. After all, he could have easily shoved you off. But he was curious.

You spoke calmly now, mind set on what you wanted to ask. “You never cared about me, did you?” Light’s mouth opened to answer but you went on without letting him speak. “No, you cared about me, but only because my brother was L, and I could give you information now that he’s gone. Am I right?” again, his mouth opened, but when your heel unexpectedly dug into his chest he let out a pained and irritated groan instead of coherent words. It was like you were teasing him, not to get a laugh out of his pain but…for what? You barely even knew yourself. It wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t make you less humiliated for being tricked and it certainly wouldn’t bring your brother back. Either way, Light definitely didn’t like it.

Before you had the chance to react you were thrown onto your back. Light had pushed you back by your leg and rose to his feet, now above you in every sense of the word. He – Kira – had carried out his plan. Meanwhile, you had nothing left.

“You don’t have to go against me,” Light seethed, “All you have to do is let the new world take its shape, and everything will fall into place.”

“That’s a shitty sales pitch.”

“It’s an offer. You’ve done nothing wrong, committed no crimes. You’d do well in my world.” The look on your face made it apparent that you had no interest in his words. Light furrowed his brows, then the ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I know you –”

“You don’t know anything about me. And I clearly didn’t know you.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows.

“—you wouldn’t want your brother’s death to be in vain.”

“I—” you paused. “What?”

“L was an obstacle I had to pass to get to a world where less people would have to suffer the same loss you have. I expect you don’t want to just throw away his death and turn me in. you can make something out of his sacrifice—“

“He wasn’t TRYING to be sacrificed; he was TRYING to put a vigilante maniac to death.”

“But if his death could mean a better world for others, you would just throw that away for your own revenge?”

You blinked, once, twice, then rapidly, shaking your head as if trying to prevent dust from getting into your eyes, or Light’s siren song from getting into your head. “Stop. That’s not…Just stop.”

“You know I’m right.” He stepped towards you and for a second you thought he was about to repay you for crushing his lungs moments ago. All that followed was his hand shooting out, stopping in front of your face. You looked up at him in disbelief. “I’ll love and care for you as I did before. I can be the one you care for in his place. All I ask is that you help me create a better world, or at least don’t try and stop me.”

You nearly scoff, but some of his words actually catch your attention. He’d love and care for you…but it would all be fake. Still, what kind of person would you be to reject others a grief-less world just to avenge your brother? But who ever said Light would follow through, not become corrupt along the way if he wasn’t already? There were so many possibilities and so many possible outcomes, all influenced by this one decision that you had to make right now.

You choked on your words.

Familiar voices were approaching.

Time was ticking.

“I…”

[alighieri-sparda]

I’m keeping your promise | Vergil x Reader

Summary: Vergil promised he would see you soon. But you got tired of waiting for him.

Kindly requested by @blackenedskykai​ ♡ | Masterlist | Rules | Read on AO3! 

Hello, Kai! I missed writing your requests, my dear. They are always so nice to write down the first ideas and complete it, so thanks a lot! Hope to see you here again. ♡ This prompt didn’t exist on the original list, but I wrote it anyway because your idea is amazing (and very cute!).  And... I’m sorry for the delay, again. xD 

By the way, I made some changes to my posting pattern. Let me know if you liked it or if you have any suggestions.

- - - - - - 

These warm sheets were no longer effective in keeping you comfortable. You tried to relax your body and mind once you decided to rest your back in some pillows and read a book, but it was all in vain. Your mind quickly diverted your attention out from those old written words in your book, of which you couldn’t understand any of the meaning they were trying to convey, no mattered how many times you read the same sentences.

To make that situation even worse, your kitty Shadow suddenly showed up, crawling her little claws on the mattress and meowing to get your attention. That little black cat was probably wanting something from you.

You sighed, taking that chance to finally give up on your attempt to read that book. Shadow kept her constant meow until you got that little feline body in your hands, gently carrying her in your arms to pet her in the bed.

“You’ve been so noisy those days, Shadow.” You softly baby-talked to her. Your heart melted in love when Shadow started to purr, slowly blinking that little green eyes to enjoy your coziness. “What do you want, hm? Tell me.”

But she suddenly started to gradually shake her body in your arms in a silent ask to break free from your touch. You frowned in confusion, but you quickly understood what was going on with her once you noticed what she did when she left your arms.

She arranged herself on Vergil’s side of your shared bed, resting her little body on his pillow.

“Oh… Yeah, Shadow, I miss him too.” You murmured, petting her head again.

This situation made you remember the promise Vergil made to you before he went to his office two days ago: “Don’t worry, I’ll see you again soon.” Having Vergil with you every day, living and sleeping together at the same apartment became part of your routine already; so, you were pretty used to see Vergil constantly busy. But you never got accustomed to dealing with the lack of his presence when he needed to go to his office at Devil May Cry.

It all started because of research that Vergil needed to do for a job that Dante recently accepted. You held back your complaints when you first heard Dante asking for his brother’s help, but Vergil knew that you were bothered about that. Therefore, before he left, he kissed your forehead and promised those words in a soft tone.

But you got tired of waiting for him.

Before doing anything, you checked the time. It was still early at night — it wouldn’t be awkward if you showed up at the shop at six, right? — and Dante wasn’t accepting any customers after 5 PM anyway. The shop wasn’t that far from your house though, so it wouldn’t take you more than ten minutes to be there safely.

And once you were sure that you wouldn’t bother anyone going there now and that the time was safe enough for you to walk the streets alone, you quickly got out of your bed and started looking for some clothes to deal with the cold outside.

Shadow seemed to guess that you were about to see Vergil and went behind you, following your steps with her little fleet-footed paws. She was meowing again, but this time, she sounded almost happy to you.

“Don’t worry, little one.” You smiled at the kitty right behind your feet as she meowed back. “I’ll let him know that you miss him too.”

 […]

 Just like you expected, you arrived at Devil May Cry in ten minutes. Along the way, you became more and more anxious as you were getting closer to the shop; and once you knocked twice on the front door, your heart raced at full speed. You knew that Vergil wouldn’t answer the door, and it made you feel even more impatient to see him.

You felt your body even colder than before, and an intense shiver ran down your spine to remember your condition. Not only because you were feeling anxious, but also due to the cold weather. Although you were wearing a comfortable coat and jeans, a scarf, gloves, and boots, they didn’t seem to be enough to keep you warm.

“We’re closed!” You heard Dante’s voice shouting from inside the shop.

“It’s me, Dante!” You answered his warning in a happy tone. When you finished your sentence, you immediately heard quick footsteps coming from the inside and getting closer to the door.

“[Name]?” He asked when he opened one of the doors, only wearing sweatpants — you knew Dante didn’t feel cold due to his demonic blood, but you couldn’t help being surprised. He clearly wasn’t expecting anyone to visit him. You also noticed Dante was happy to see you but seemed sort of confused as well. “Good evening, pretty human. Lost your way back home?” He grinned at you, resting his weight on the door.

You laughed back. “Good evening, Dante. I… came here to see someone, actually. Hope you don’t mind me.”

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s always good to see you here.” Dante moved aside, silently asking you to enter the shop. “Come inside. You’ll freeze out there.”

You stepped inside the main hall and took a deep breath when you felt a sudden warmth embrace your cold body. The room was quite dark, the only intense light was coming from Vergil’s office, passing through the door openings. Dante closed the front door behind you and started making his way back to his bedroom.

“His office is unlocked; I just spoke to him.” Dante yawned, lazily stretching his body. “That nerd is damn focused on his books so take care not to scare him.”

He winked at you before locking himself in his room again. “Or maybe not.”

And then Dante closed his bedroom door, leaving you alone in the hall.

Spending no more time, you took some quiet steps towards Vergil’s office door. You even raised your hand to knock on the door once you got in front of it and announce that you were about to join him, but you abruptly prevented yourself from knocking on it.

It would be way more fun if you just surprise him, right?

To be sure you wouldn’t get caught before the right time, you gently held the door handle and moved it down as carefully as you could, pressing the door with your weight to open it gradually. When your gaze caught the sight of Vergil, you realized that Dante couldn’t be more certain about what he said: Vergil he was standing in front of a bookshelf, his back to the door, clearly interested in what he was reading.

You closed the door behind you with your feet as your body quietly slid into the room. When you noticed that Vergil didn’t move anything but his fingers to go to the next page of his book, a content smile crossed your face. He was probably going to be sort of annoyed because you went there alone, but you needed to keep the promise he made to you.

After some steps, you were finally close enough to Vergil. You thought of hugging him from beside and try to support your head on his shoulder at first — and you were going to need to stand on tiptoe to do so —, but you were just a few steps from his face. And when you realized that, a better idea crossed your mind.

This time, you didn’t even worry about not making any noise. You placed a hand over his arm, and before he could react to it, you finally faced him, cupping his face with your other hand and finally kissing his lips. You needed to stand on tiptoe anyway since Vergil usually curves his body a bit to kiss you, but you didn’t mind it at all.  

Although you could feel a little surprised gasp coming from him, Vergil just replaced the book back on the shelf whilst he joined your kiss properly, holding his arms around your waist to bring you closer to him. The cold sensation of anxiety started to leave your body, relaxing your muscles as you enjoyed the taste of Vergil’s lips again.

It was only an extended peck, but the sensation of his soft and warm lips over yours was pleasant enough for a ‘hello’ kiss.

Vergil was the one who separated the kiss. He looked at you with a soft smile on his lips, yet he frowned his eyebrows.

“What are you doing here, [Name]?” He asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I’m keeping your promise, Vergil.” You touched his lips with yours again, but quickly this time.

“Excuse me?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“You promised me you’d see me soon, but I got a little impatient and decided to keep this for you.”

He chuckled.

“I see. I was expecting to finish the research tomorrow morning, but I think I’m finishing it tonight… With your help, of course.” Vergil winked at you, and couldn’t help but giggle when you grumbled at his words.

He left your hair and started to caress your cheek with his thumb, knitting a brow as he felt your skin colder than normal compared to the temperature of the place.

“Why are you that cold? Are you sure you were wearing this scarf since you left home?” His tone was concerned, even though it sounded almost like a complaint.

“I took ten minutes to get here, and it’s really cold outside. But it wouldn’t stop me from seeing you.” You sighed. A sudden wave of desire sprawled through your body, and you couldn’t help hugging the man in front of you, missing his embrace. He quickly realized that and held you tightly. His lovely warmth comforting your body made you sigh cheerfully. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, love.” He kissed your head, leaving his lips barely over your hair. “But don’t expose yourself like that again, okay? I wouldn’t like to see you in danger just because I took too long to come back home.”

This sentence of his proved that you were right about his discomfort about you going there all alone, but you didn’t expect him talking about that in a so gentle tone.

“I will always keep that promise to you, [Name]. No matter how long it takes, I will always come back. Don’t worry.” His whisper sounded like he was speaking from the bottom of his heart. He spoke to you sincerely a few times during your relationship, and you could tell that was another one of them.

You stepped back only to kiss him again. You knew that you were going to read a lot of old books to help him with his research, so you wanted to enjoy that moment as much as you could. This kiss wasn’t different from the previous one, but this time, Vergil held you even closer, with one hand holding your waist and the other touching the backside of your neck.

You took a bit longer to separate this kiss. Both you and Vergil could stay like that for hours, but he still had some work to be finished.

“Guess it’s time to read some books.” You giggled.

“Precisely.” Vergil grinned at you, finally breaking the embrace completely to go back to the book he was reading. “I’m not far from finishing it though, so I think we’re coming back home in one hour.”

“I hope so, because Shadow is missing you as much as I was.” You quickly checked out the content of his book by looking at its cover and then started to look for some similar ones. “She has been such a noisy kitten since you left. Probably calling for you.”

You heard a heartened hum coming from Vergil. That little black kitty was a weak spot of Vergil as much as you were, and you knew that pretty well.

“Dante needs some help with old demonic rituals. Better check that another bookshelf, because I want to see Shadow tonight.” He explained, pointing to the shelf beside which he was standing.

While you were searching for the right books on the shelf Vergil pointed, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Vergil said to you. Well, now you were sure that he would keep his promise at any cost.

You smiled unconsciously. Although you couldn’t see it, Vergil was doing the same.

[cripplingaddictions]

Haikyuu boys when you get injured playing your sport pt.2

Oikawa, Tsukishima, Tendo, Asahi, Kageyama

Summary: The first one was really fun to write, so here is part 2! This is some others and how I think they’d react when you get hurt during sport!

Warnings: Explicit mention of blood and open wounds

A/N: I’d like to thank everyone for over 100 followers! Yes, I know that doesn’t seem like many but it’s a big deal to me, so thank you!! I also appreciate the patience with my messed up writing schedule <3 ...Tendo’s got really long and Kageyama’s got a little angsty whoops 

Oikawa:

As one who suffers from a sport injury himself, Oikawa is constantly aware of the possibility

Reminds you before every game of hockey to stay safe

His tone may be lighthearted when he says it, but he’s very serious

He knows the ins and outs of stretching and the recovery process for injuries

Usually, he doesn’t come to your games, mostly because he’s busy or he's afraid of getting recognised

When you get home or see him next, he’d ask out the game and listen with excitement and interest

He definitely does research on the game too

This time, he was so glad he went

To avoid being recognised, he wore a cap and sunglasses, standing at the back of the spectators

His height allowed him to easily watch you from the crowd

You were really hyped for the game, knowing your opponents were going to be tough

Unfortunately, your team was struggling with the game

The other team was scoring goal after goal, and you couldn’t keep up

You ran back to defend the goal, in the way for an approaching player

They were ready to score, and you were ready to dive in

The urgency and pressure of the situation got to your head, and you ran towards them with anger

You let out a cry, charging towards the hockey ball

In the back of your mind, you knew Oikawa wouldn’t be impressed with how you lost your patience

And you were right

He treaded closer to the game, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed

“Y/N... Don’t get ahead of yourself”

He whispered, wishing you could hear him

Your opponent placed the ball in position to swing for goal

But you had gotten too far ahead of yourself

They swung their hockey stick

Your ankle was in the way

Usually, you wouldn’t be too bothered, bruises littering your ankle for a week after

This time, the stick was made of aluminium

The impact and pain that shot through your ankle brought you to the ground

Pain unbearable, you dropped your own stick and held your food

“Ow, ow, ow”

You mumbled sloppily, tears, saliva, and snot dribbling over your lips

You wanted to stand up and keep playing but the pain continued like an unforgiving clamp tightening on your ankle

Suddenly aware of how you look, you wiped your mouth from the fluids

You heard a whistle blow, but the pain caused for stars to dance in your vision

“Y/N-chan, eyes up here”

The stars from your eyes cleared, the sight of your boyfriend crouching next to you on the field shining through

You couldn’t form words, not that they would have helped

He immediately moved to take your shoe off, seeing how it had already started to swell 

It blew up like a balloon before your very eyes

“I’ll carry you”

Oikawa whispered, sliding an arm around your back and the other securely under your knees

Lifting you up, he escorted you off the field

He didn’t let you ride in the ambulance your coach called by yourself, holding your hand the whole way

It was definitely a bad break, being a pain through the recovery process as you could hardly apply any pressure on the foot

You were in a cast, and Oikawa wrote a lovey-dovey message on it that took up half the space

Once you were out of it Oikawa knew all the right physiological stretches in order to get you back on your feet to play again

He did a great job taking care of you, and you couldn't thank him more

Tsukishima:

Doesn’t effect your relationship that you were into swimming as that was not why he loved you

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like how you are training so hard for it

It’s the passion and love for swimming that he wishes he had for volleyball

To be honest, Tsukishima wouldn’t be worried about you getting hurt

He thinks swimming is not a very hazardous sport

Which is fairly true, so you don’t get injured during a specific race or anything

Your injury shows up slowly over time

Originally you shook it off, expecting that the soreness in your shoulders was just your muscles tired after a long two hours of lap after lap

However, it started getting worse, and you began to tell Tsukishima your concerns

He’d say something like, “Then just take your time at training. I can’t do anything about it. What did you expect me to say?”

Let’s be real, he’s kind of worried

Especially as he began to notice how you would wince after taking your bag off your shoulders, or if you reached up to the top shelf

The day he realised that you needed to get them checked out was when you had walked to his place after training

The whole walk there the straps of your bag felt a lot heavier

Your shoulders hurt, but the left was the worst one by fair

Shifting the weight of your bag to your right shoulder, you gave the left a rest

Soon enough you knocked on Tsukishima’s door and he opened quickly after

You dropped your bag inside the door and rubbed your shoulder

“Oi, Y/N, are you okay?”

Tsukishima asked, the way your sighed making his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly

“Yeah, but my shoulder is pretty bad”

You tell him, hoping that he’ll show some sympathy

He scooped up your bag and called for you to follow him to the couch

He left you there, leaving momentarily to drop your bag with your wet swimmers into the laundry

Soon, he plopped down on the couch beside you and turned on the tv

Carefully, he pulled you onto his lap and you instinctively dropped your head onto his shoulder

Instead of huffing slightly like he usually did, you pushed you forward 

“No, sit towards my knees”

You obeyed him, and he hovered his fingers over your shoulders

Smiling once you realised what he was going to do, you let him work his nibble fingers into your shoulders

He stopped if you whined, asking where to go from there

It really helped, you never realised how good Tsukishima was with his fingers (no... not like that)

You were putty in his hands, completely relaxed as you watched the tv 

Once you felt the tension was mostly gone, Tsukishima scooted out from underneath you to book a scan

When you had it, you discovered you had Bursitis 

(A/N: I have this in my shoulder and it sucks)

This required for lots of rest, icing, and careful exercise

You were off swimming for almost three months before Tsukishima was convinced that you could handle tending to it afterwards

When you got back to swimming, you wore a sling on the worst days and Tsukishima carried your bag for you

He raised his hand in class if you needed to ask a question, and made sure you never had to overexert your left arm

His favourite thing to do was tease you even more about having to get him to get stuff off the top shelves

You were shorter than him, but now you need him even more

When you use your condition as a counterargument he always says “aww, poor baby Y/N”

No doubt, he does certainly cared for you, but get ready for a long road ahead for the both of you

Tendo:

You’re a figure skater! And how he loves to watch you skate!

He gets so excited, you have no idea

Whether you are in a competition, or if you are just practicing, he gets so giddy and proud while watching you glide across the ice

Thinks you look so good in the costumes, no matter your body type 

If you were to have to travel internationally for a competition, you bet he’d be coming with you

Tendo does get into trouble when he disturbs your practise at the rink

But you always invite him to watch any time, not caring what your coach thought

Super supportive of you, it’s not funny

However, what is funny is that he has no idea all the technical terms or how the point system works

So, when he watches you during a comp, he’ll greet you off the ice with:

“BABE, THAT FANCY THING YOU DID WITH YOUR ARMS AFTER YOU LANDED FROM THE SPINNING-TOP-JUMPY-THING YOU DID WAS SO SEXY! YOU’VE GOT TO WIN! YOU LOOKED SO GOOD, MY PARADISE”

You double over in laughter every time he says something like that

You only just manage out a “Thank you, Tori” before you’re ushered off to get your score

The score you were appointed is half decent, placing you in third place

When you go to find Tendo so you can sit with him while watching the rest of the skaters, he appalled

“PARADISE, YOU DESERVED MUCH BETTER THAN THAT! I’D HAVE GIVEN YOU A 634.53!!”

“Satori, that’s basically impossible for a short program”

“I DON’T CARE BECAUSE IT IS WHAT YOU DESERVE”

It’s kind of embarrassing, in a large rink of people, for him to be yelling like that

But... it’s all because he thinks you are incredibly talented

Which is very sweet

Anyways, you injure yourself at practice 

Tendo had just got of his volleyball practice at Shiratorizawa and decided to swing by the rink

You were staying in late, your coach and the rest of the skaters had gone home, so it was just you and a few workers at the rink

Tendo burst in, the goofy grin on his face that cases his eyes to be forced shut by the adorable purity of it

You were focusing on a quadruple axel that you hadn’t perfected when he arrived

“Good evening, paradise! How are you-”

You had been halfway through the jump when you peeled your eyes open

Immediately happy to see him, you smiled brightly

But, your excitement cost you the landing

You slipped, landing harshly onto the ice on your hip with a thud, the water soaking into your tights

“Y/N!”

Tendo dropped his bags, running and sliding his lanky body across the ice on his knees to where you had sprawled out

There was certainly going to be really bad bruise there, you could tell

But the coolness of the ice made your hip numb to the pain

“Are you okay? I scared you, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way Tendo was leaning over you, now having soaked knees too

“Yeah, you did”

“Let’s take you home and have a nice warm shower, hey?”

You agreed, leading him off the ice with both of your hands in his, because the psycho had run onto the ice with no skates on

The two of you walked home, the whole time you noticing the numbness leaving your hip

While having your shower, you checked your hip to find a dark purple bruise the size of your hand, raw to the touch

You took a shower, afterwards putting on some underwear and one of your boyfriend’s large shirts

Leaving your room, you enter the living room find Tendo sprawled on the couch

He made a comment about how good you look, leaving you giggling

You grabbed an icepack from the freezer and a tea towel to wrap it in

Laying on top of Tendo, you rolled on your side to have your bruised hip facing the ceiling

“Whatcha got there?”

Tendo asked

You flashed the icepack in front of his face, before quickly wrapping it up

Pulling the oversized shirt over your hip, you exposed the bruise to your boyfriend

“This is what you did to me, you scary man”

You joke, poking him in the cheek

The colour drained from his face in a split second, and he let out a cry of agony

“No! I’m so sorry! How can I make you feel better?”

He leaned over you, pressing scattered kisses over the bruise and mumbling sorry between each one

You knew he was trying to be feathery with his kisses, but the slightest pressure hurt

So, you pushed his head away

“Ow, Tori, that hurts. You can hold the ice for me”

He does as he’s told and you thank him, kindly

He has eagle eyes on you constantly after that, acting like your personal bodyguard

Makes sure he’s always on the side that is bruised at school, so that no one can bump it

Lines your bed with pillows, as to not accidentally bump it on the wall

Stops you from walking if you don’t have to, in which you tell him he’s fine

You try reassuring him by saying that it could have been worse, but that makes him even more wary when you skate knowing that worse could happen to you

Asahi:

He’s adorable, constantly being supportive during your games of netball

Out of everyone, he’s the most likely to be worried about possible injury

Even though it’s a fairly safer sport, Asahi makes sure that you are reminded of every possible scenario that he had made up in his head before a game

You’d shut him up with a kiss to the lips, but he’ll be trembling when you walk away

Understands the game, not needing much help with keeping up with points or rules

He’ll calm down eventually while watching you play, focusing on silently praising you

Secretly a fan of the uniform, don’t tell anyone - he’d be so embarrassed

Doesn’t come to practice often because of the clashes with his volleyball training

When you got injured during a game, thank goodness Nishinoya had joined him to cheer you on

The energy Nishinoya brought to the sidelines motivated Asahi to cheer more too

Usually, you’d wave to him after getting a point and he’d wave back

But you could actually hear him because of Noya

You had in the back of your head to thank him for bringing him out of his shell

Have of the reason he never went to your practice because he was scared the other players would have thought he was some creepy middle-aged man there to stare at them in their uniforms

That’s why he always came to your games without fail, to make up for it and because he felt safer from a distance

However, Nishinoya had dragged him to the front, which he was hesitant about at first

But when he saw how excited you were to see him so close made him smile 

You were in perfect position to receive the ball in order to shoot

Your teammates passed back and forth, approaching you slowly

“I’m free! Guys!”

You gained their attention, and they sent the ball your way

You caught it and immediately shot for the goal while the opponents were distracted

“Come on, Y/N!” 

Both Nishinoya and Asahi shouted, Noya obviously the loudest

The first shot missed, but you quickly caught it and shot again

This time, the ball landed through the hoop and the whistle blown to confirm that it was a point 

You could hear Asahi and Nishinoya celebrating on the sidelines

Pumping your fists in the air, you brushed your forearm against the goal post

A nail had been sticking out of it, slicing through your skin

You immediately hissed, the pain stinging dramatically

You grab your arm, searching to find a massive gash down the length of your forearm

Blood poured from the wound and you called your coach

They immediately brought you off once they saw the red liquid

Asahi was worried, slipping around to where you were holding a towel to your arm

Hissing in pain, you found Asahi approaching

“Y-Y/N, what happened?”

He could see the pain laced into your face, shaking nervously

You wanted to hide it, afraid of how he would react

Carefully, you removed the damp cloth from the wound with a hiss as the air hit the tenderness

“I’m gonna need stitches”

You hissed through your teeth, turning to show Asahi

By then Nishinoya had arrived by Asahi, and at the perfect time

One look at the way your arm had been split open with blood gushing from the open wound...

And Asahi had fainted

Luckily Nishinoya was there to catch him and lower him to the ground

Now you were more worried for Asahi than yourself, to be honest

With Asahi out of commission, your coach had to take you to get you almost twenty stitches

Nishinoya stayed back to make sure Asahi woke up safely, and when he did, he was anxiously asking where you were and how you were

Asahi dropped into your place after finding out you were out of hospital, pulling you into a hug

Of course you made sure he was okay after his episode too

Constant tender touches while you healed, and soft kisses over the patch on your arm

He treated you like an absolute princess, especially after Nishinoya had scared him again by saying “I think she’ll need to get it amputated” right after he woke up

Fainted again when he went with you to get the stitches removed

Kageyama:

This boy does not get rugby at all

He tries, because he’s smart enough to pick it up if he wanted to

But, he’s more impressed with sports that involve more ‘thinking and skill’

What is impressive to him, however, is how fit and strong you are

Even though he is still taller than you, he almost feels like you are the bigger person in the relationship with the muscle you have

Likes being small spoon with your figure

Silently admires your athletic ability, and thinks you are really cool whenever you make a massive run down the field

Kageyama likes to watch when you win

He gets so blushy and excited when you bound into his arms after a good game 

Unfortunately, he’s very busy with volleyball, unable to make many training sessions or games

He tries his hardest to be at your training grounds in time to walk home with you

He tries to keep his Saturday’s free to be with you or at your games

Recently, he had been even more busy, and this week he couldn’t make it too 

This team had been tough, with a lot of bigger players 

You were sort of struggling to break past them, unable to score any tries

All you remember was receiving the ball, trying to break through the wall they had created

You had run headfirst into the players, and the next thing you knew...

You woke up in hospital

Your head was wrapped up, and it thumped painfully

Trying to sit up hurt your head, so you laid back down

With how fuzzy your head was, you failed to notice Kageyama sitting in the corner with a carton of milk

He had been anxiously twiddling his thumbs while emptying carton after carton

When your eyes opened, he shot up, hurrying to your bedside

You finally noticed him, smiling softly at the pout on his lips and the shine of glossiness in his eyes

“Tobio...”

Even speaking hurt your head

“Don’t speak if it hurts”

Kageyama basically read your mind, taking your hand in his and placing your open palm on his cheek

“You’re such a dumbass, scaring me like that”

He rested his head on the bed next to you on the bed

You glided your thumb over his cheek, watching as the pout on his lips began to tremble slightly

Whining slightly in order to awe at him, you whispered

“I’m sorry...”

“Why did it happen the one game I can’t make it... damn it... I should have been there”

You shifted your head, ignoring the pain, in order to get a better view of him

His dark blue eyed were sparkling with tears, and you mumbled

“No... baby...”

Kageyama ignored you, turning to press his face into the white sheet on your thighs, blinking back his tears

“I was scared...”

He mumbled in a cracked voice into your thigh

You took his face in your hands and carefully pulled him towards your face

Giving him a kiss to his nose, you let him lay his head on your chest

“Don’t cry... I’m here”

You croaked, threading your fingers through his raven hair

The recovery process was long and hard, having received severe head trauma

You were in hospital for another day after you woke up for tests and to make sure you could stand without fainting

Kageyama stayed with you the entire time, only leaving when your parents insisted he get some sleep

After this, your parents were certain you could marry him, not kidding

He treated you like glass whenever he saw you, especially when you took the time off school

He would accidentally yell at you if he saw you up and about, but immediately took it back and apologised 

Poor Hinata got all of Kageyama’s pent up anger about everything, being unable to yell at you

When you return to school, he’s like your shadow, following you around and making sure you’re drinking enough water

Reassure him that it wasn’t his fault and that you’re not going anywhere

[salemorbit]

Between Bookshelves

[Izuku Midoriya x genderneutral!Reader]

warnings: none! just cute shit hehe

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in which you meet midoriya by chance in the library before midterms, and thus blossoms some romance ;)

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note: aw omg 50 followers?? in only two weeks??? thank u so much i'm glad y'all like my content enough to follow!! :D

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~~~~~~

It was the middle of the semester, a busy time for any student who was looking to do well before finals and then break. It was integral that one studied for the midterms at UA, mainly because they were that much more grueling than those at a regular high school

Which was why you had been holed up in the library for nearly three days straight, only leaving for bathroom breaks or the occasional snack. You had two classes that you needed to do well in for midterms, and you weren't about to take any chances with them.

Being in the support course was barely any different than being in the hero course. The only notable difference was the lack of real-world fighting that anyone in the hero course did compared to the support course, but the classes were just as tough.

You were near the top of your class, but being near the top wasn't enough. You often strived for perfection only to fall short just by a small margin and get beat out by the best of your peers. This frustrated you, so you aimed to get the top marks during midterms and really skyrocket to the front of your class.

Izuku Midoriya was similar to you in mindset, but he knew he wouldn't get to the very top of his class. There were plenty of smart kids in his homeroom, but he still wanted to get at least top five in his specific class.

Which was why he was also holed up in the library, though not as much as you had been. He kept it as casual as he could, studying here and there but not necessarily learning anything new about the topics. The boy took scrupulous notes.

One particular day, blame it on the burnout if you will, you just couldn't keep your focus on the notes and books in front of you. It was nearly the end of day three of living in the library at UA, and you were starting to feel it. The weight under your eyes, the burning feeling from barely blinking, your stomach rumbling at the thought of a late dinner. You couldn't do the best on your tests if you didn't take care of yourself first, so you had to get up to stretch and grab something from the vending machine.

Being the only other person in the room, Midoriya couldn't help it when his eyes caught onto your movements as you left the immediate library space. His gaze traveled to your table just across the room from him.

Midoriya had seen you around before. You were in the support course, number three overall. And that was impressive to him. Many kids were in the support course, so being in the top three was quite the accomplishment.

He had never spoken to you directly, but he wasn't a stranger to who you were: [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Third best in support, amazing strategic skills, outstanding marks in the entrance exam, charismatic personality. What's not to admire?

You came back into the room and plopped down in your chair, opening up a bag of a snack Midoriya couldn't see from this distance and popping a piece in your mouth. You settled yourself in again to read entries from the textbook in front of you, but you felt eyes on you.

Looking up, you locked gazes with the boy across the room. He hadn't seemed to notice he was staring, so you sheepishly smiled and gave a small wave. Almost immediately he snapped out of it, going red and burying his nose back into the book on his own table. You smiled gently to yourself, still looking at him.

You knew him; everyone in UA did. If you didn't, you weren't paying attention to literally anything going on. Izuku Midoriya wasn't someone to scoff at when it came to hero work. You understood the difference between you and him, maintaining your distance pretty well over the last year. He wasn't someone you for sure wanted to know, but he had his fair share of secrets you were interested in.

You looked around the room and confirmed no one else was there but the two of you. What was the need to be quiet, then?

"Midoriya, right?" You spoke up. He looked up, surprised at your sudden voice. After a second, he cleared his throat and nodded, face going slightly pink.

"Y-Yeah. [Y/L/N], isn't it?" He replied. You would be lying if you said you weren't shocked he even knew your name. You nodded, closing the textbook in front of you having lost all interest in midterms for the time being.

"It is," you smiled. "What brings you here for the second time in a row?"

"Midterms," Midoriya chuckled, shifting his attention to you as well. "You?"

"Same boat," you shrugged. There was a beat of silence. "How do you know me?"

"Well-Well I don't, really," Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side, "but I've heard of you. In the support course. Top three."

"Amazing observation," you said, actually impressed. "I'd be stupid not to know who you are. Everyone knows who you are."

"Apparently so," Midoriya said. Another beat of silence.

"What are you studying?" He asked. You glanced at your textbook and piles of paper.

"Costume mechanics. Boring shit."

"Sounds fun, actually."

"What are you studying?"

"Emergency strategies."

"God, talk about a snooze-fest," you laughed out. Midoriya cracked a smile. Another beat.

"What's, uh, what's your quirk?" Midoriya cleared his throat a second time.

"Breaking up machines and melding them into whatever I can visualize," you explained. "Cool enough to get into UA, but not cool enough to get into the hero course. I've come to terms with it, though."

"That's pretty useful," Midoriya replied thoughtfully. "It makes sense why you excel so much in support. That's a really cool quirk."

"Thanks," you felt your ears warm. "Yours is super cool, too. Really unique."

"Thank you," he smiled. Your heart skipped a beat at his lopsided grin, but you chalked it up to the exhaustion playing with your mind.

The two of you fell into a bout of silence for another hour until Midoriya packed up his things and bid you goodnight. You kept studying after he left, but your mind wouldn't stop wandering to thoughts of a certain green-haired boy...

•••

Meeting in that small study room in the back corner of the library became ritual for you and Midoriya, even after midterms. When he had a break or wasn't busy, Midoriya would pop his head into your usual room to see if you were there.

And you typically were, though you weren't there to study most of the time. You rarely actually studied for tests, using your time in class lectures to absorb information, so at this point spending time in the study room and doing nothing of substance was more to stall for time that anything else. You would wait for Midoriya to catch a break, enticed by your first interaction.

And the two of you bonded over the weeks, hanging out in the study room to both study and talk about whatever. You had conversations about all the different heroes you idolized, villains he had faced, and hopes for the future of both of your heroic careers. The two of you became fast friends, and it wasn't a secret that perhaps you wished for something more.

You noticed that you began to see Midoriya a little more frequently in the hallways or on breaks. He would pass by and always smile and say hi, cheeks almost always flushing whenever he did so. You also noticed the small things like when he started to sit next to you at your table in the study room, or when he started to bring you books he thought you'd like to read. The way his knees knocked into yours mid conversation, or how he always asked how your day went. All of this just made you fall harder for the boy.

One day, you were in the study room and looking at the shelves of books lining the walls, looking for a particular research study about the effectiveness of aesthetic in costume design. You were assigned a paper on it earlier in the day and wanted to get a head start on it.

Midoriya popped his head into your usual spot, initially frowning at your absence but then brightening up when he saw your bag and books set at your table. He set his own down next to it and scanned the room for you.

Seeing movement behind some shelves, Midoriya trotted over to the tall shelves and pulled out a book in front of you, revealing his smiling face. You jumped slightly, but sighed in relief when you saw who it was.

"Thank you for scaring the crap out of me, Midoriya," you shook your head, continuing to look for the book. "Gimme a second, I'll be over soon."

"What are you looking for?" Midoriya asked, gliding around the corner and joining you on the other side of the bookshelf. His eyes scanned over your profile, noticing the way your fingers tapped your chin as you searched.

"A book for my research paper," you mumbled. "I had one in mind and it should be- Damn," you sighed, "it's on the top shelf."

"Oh, here," Midoriya craned his neck to look at the top. "Which one?"

"The one with the blue binding," you pointed. Midoriya wasn't too much taller than you, but he had some reach. He steadied himself on the shelf and stretched to the top, grabbing the book and handing it down to you.

When he grounded himself, he was closer than before. Close enough that you caught a whiff of his cologne and could see the flecks of color in his eyes. Close enough that you could reach out and run your fingers along his freckles--

"Here," he breathed out, holding the book to you. "Got it."

"Thanks," you said softly, taking it from him and glancing down shyly. Your eyes made their way back to his, him looking at you intently.

"We should, um--" Midoriya started, but broke off and cleared his throat. "You should get started...on your paper."

"I should," you said, with no intention of moving. You felt your heart pounding in your chest and realized that you were now close enough to hear his own heartbeat over the sound of yours. Midoriya swallowed thickly, face gradually turning red.

"Your eyes are really nice," he said. You smiled at his shy compliment, setting the book in your hands on an empty spot in the shelf next to you.

"You're one to talk," you grinned. This just made Midoriya's face go brighter as he looked away nervously.

"I-I don't want to sound too forward or anything, so stop me if I am, but..."

There were a few seconds of silence between the two of you, Midoriya looking like he was turning an idea over and over in his mind. Intense silence that only grew as your heartbeat got faster. You started to lean in, looking at his eyes then his lips, then his eyes again and--

"[Y/N]?"

You jumped back, peering through the books to see one of your friends looking around the study room. Frowning, you looked at Midoriya apologetically before popping your head around the corner and smiling at your friend.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"You forgot one of your textbooks in class," she said, producing it from behind her back. "Thought I'd drop it off."

"Oh, thank you," you smiled. "Just leave it by my stuff."

When you turned back around, Midoriya was gone. Your heart dropped at the sight, worried that you had frightened him off. Had you read the room wrong? Were you just that desperate that you had overstepped a boundary? Did he hate you now? Think you were overbearing?

You sighed and picked your book back off the shelf next to you, walking forward to round the bookshelf and get back to your studying. Just as you stepped into the aisle, a hand grabbed your forearm and twirled you around so your back was up against the wall.

Blinking up, you saw those familiar flecked eyes and freckles of Midoriya staring down at you, a new confidence in them that wasn't there before. Your racing heart started up again, hands coming to your side free of the book you were holding before.

"Before we get interrupted again, can I..." he trailed off, searching your eyes and flicking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

Your breath hitched in your throat as you smiled, nodding.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, leaning up and meeting him halfway.

It was soft and sweet as Midoriya slid his hands around your waist and secured you against him. His lips were soft and knew what they were doing. Your back arched off the flat of the wall as you wrapped your hands around his neck, moving with him.

He didn't overstep anything without asking, being tentative with each hand placement and going slow if you had a point in which you wanted to stop. His fingertips grazed the edges of your shirt as his hands moved to your hips, dancing over slivers of skin. Your hands found their way into the mess of green hair atop his head, curling your fingers into the soft locks as he chuckled against your lips.

It was bliss; soft and reassuring and comfortable. Your chest warmed at his thoughtfulness and care, causing you to push into him a little harder. He reciprocated easily, keeping you close to the wall while also having a tight hold on you himself.

With one last twist of your fingers in his hair, you pulled away. Midoriya, eyes half-open as you ended it, chased after your lips, smiling.

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that for," he muttered, eyes widened now and looking into yours with a softness that just made your heart melt.

"I'm glad you finally did," you smirked, nuzzling your nose against his, "or else I would've had to have a serious intervention."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He pulled away further, a playful look in his eye. You just laughed and pulled yourself toward him, pecking him on the lips again.

"You worry too much."

~~~~~~~

AHDLFISHWBELDPSHWHDKF

requests are welcome!

[queenxxxsupreme]

Heyo! 💖I just wanted to say that I completely ADORE your works and I was wondering if you could maybe give us some dad!Witcher reactions to when the reader goes into labor? Totally up to you, only if you want to and if your comfortable with this!☺️ again, I love your work so much and I really love seeing the boys being included in amazing fics and hcs💕

A/N: This has also been sitting in my box for a while, and many people have asked about this, so I’m glad it’s finally done. You can all thank @pressedinthepages for helping me out with Geralt cause he’s the reason y’all haven’t gotten this sooner. Thank you again baby!!!

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, labor, pregnant lady going into labor but not the actual birth part, just labor pains and water breaking :)

***

Lambert 

You sucked in a sharp breath, your hand coming to hold your side. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Lambert sat up in his chair, brows drawing together as he looked across the table at you.

“I-I’m okay.” You told him, rubbing your ribcage. “The baby just kicked me.”

“Doesn’t seem like they’ve stopped moving at all today.” Ciri commented. She sat next to you, talking to you about different names for your unborn child. 

“They haven’t. I think they’ve gotten too big. There isn’t enough room in there for the little thing.” You rubbed the side of your stomach. “Anytime they stretch, they bruise one of my organs.”

You started to stand up, needing to stretch your legs. 

“Where are you going?” Lambert followed you with his gaze. 

“Just for a little walk.”

“Thought you couldn’t walk too far ‘cause your ankles hurt.”

“They do, but sitting hasn’t helped my back at all. It's making my legs hurt even more.”

Lambert stood to his feet, a mug of ale in one hand, and moved to your side. 

“The baby needs room to move. They can’t do that if I’m sitting down.”

He placed his free hand on the small of your back, offering what little support he could. 

“They need to get a move on and get here soon.” Lambert thought out loud. He used his shoulder to push open a door that would take you out to the courtyard. 

“Can’t rush a pregnancy, love.” You sighed gently, though you agreed with him.

“Just don’t like seeing you hurting knowing I can’t do anything to make it better.”

“I’ll be okay.” You looked over to him to meet his gaze, offering him a little smile. 

“But what if you aren't?” He stopped, his hand slipping from your back to your hand. “What if…. What if you don't make it through this? Through having the baby? What if…. I-I’ve heard stories-,”

“Lambert, I’m giving birth to our child here at Kaer Morhen with Yennefer and Triss. Should anything happen, I trust them to do what's needed to save both myself and the baby. So stop with all that nonsense.” 

Lambert nodded, knowing what you said was true. The safest place you could possibly be was Kaer Morhen where some of the best mages in the world were. 

“I just can't help worrying.” The witcher muttered shyly, putting his hand on your back once more to lead you through the courtyard. 

“I know.” You smiled softly. It was a rare sight to see the young witcher look so anxious and worrisome. “You’ve been worrying a lot recently.”

“‘Cause I know you're getting closer to having the baby. We’re…. I'm gonna be a father.” He shook his head like the mere thought was too good to be true. “Don't want to turn out like my old man. Damn bastard wasn't worth shit.”

“You'd never be like him, Lambert.” You assured him, looking over to admire his side profile. “You're too kind of a man.”

He scoffed. 

“Don't hurt my feelings like that, bug.” 

You grinned. 

“Besides, if you need to be put in your place, Eskel and Geralt would gladly kick your ass. Though I know it will never be needed.”

“What about us kicking Lambert’s ass?” Geralt asked as he and Eskel moved towards you two. 

“Y/N said she doesn't think you two could beat me.”

You elbowed Lambert in the side. 

“How are you feeling today, Y/N?” Eskel asked you. 

“Not too great, if I'm honest. Though today it doesn't feel like a rib has been kicked out of place.”

The three boys began to chat about something Vesemir was asking them to work on together. It was a fallen wall on the west side of the keep. 

You weren't paying too much attention, shifting your weight from one foot to the other every now and again. You slipped your arm around Lambert’s holding the inside of his elbow. You didn't want to just excuse yourself and walk away. Lambert would follow you and not even finish talking to Eskel and Geralt. You figured you could endure standing just a little longer. 

But then the pain between your hips sharpened and took your breath away. Your grip on Lambert tightened. There was a wetness between your legs that made you furrow your brows.

“Oh gods.” You whispered. 

“What?” Eskel asked you. Lambert was in the middle of taking a sip of his ale and hadn't had the chance to ask first. 

“I think the baby’s coming.”

The father-to-be choked on his ale, coughing and sputtering. He hit his fist against his chest, struggling to speak. 

“What?!”

“I’m going into labor, Lambert.” 

“The fuck you are.” His voice nearly cracked. 

“Eskel, give me a hand, please.” You weren't too sure how Lambert would react so you needed someone you knew wouldn't freak out. 

Eskel moved to your side, holding his arm out to allow you to use him for support. Lambert remained on the other side of you, one hand on your lower back and the other on your arm. His ale had been discarded, no longer important to the witcher. 

“How-How do you-I mean, how do you know they’re coming?” Lambert stumbled over his words worse than you'd ever seen. 

“I do believe my water just broke, love.” You met his gaze, smiling softly. Though you wanted to scream and curse at the gods for the pain you were feeling, you needed to stay calm for him. 

With Eskel’s help, Lambert’s rambling promises that everything would be okay, and Geralt’s moral support from right behind you, you were able to make it to the room designated for this very occasion. You knew it would be wise to have a room on the main level just in case you weren't up in your room when the time came to deliver. 

Geralt went to gather Yennefer and Triss while you carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. Eskel went to stand just outside of the doorway so that he was far enough away to give you both some privacy but close enough that if you needed anything, he'd be there. 

“Should-Should you lay back?” Lambert asked you, brushing your hair back out of your face. 

“No, love. I’m fine. I’m-I’m fine.” Your voice cracked as you softly shook your head, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. 

“Why are you crying? Are-Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Is something wro-,”

“Lambert, I love you but please breathe.” 

“I am breathing! Are you breathing?”

Your head fell forward, hands gripping your knees as the tears left your eyes. A surge of pain tore through your pelvis. 

Lambert saw the way your strong facade was crumbling. He needed to be strong for you. He needed to swallow his fears and be there for you. You were doing all of the hard work. He was just there to watch and encourage you. He had no right to freak out. 

It took the witcher a few minutes to gather himself, to tell himself over and over that you would be okay. Then he was able to elevate his heartbeat and focus on you. 

“Hey, hey, bug.” His tone softened. He turned your head to him, his thumb stroking your flushed cheek. “I'm right here, okay?”

“Lambert, it-it hurts.” You whispered, turning your head to bury your face in his neck. 

“I know, bug. ‘M sorry.” He rubbed your back, pressing kisses to the side of your head the best he could. “But you know what?” 

He pulled back and you had no choice but to pull your head away from him. 

“If there is anyone here in this keep that could do this, that could go through this, it's you.”

“That's-That’s not true.” You shook your head. “You-You’re strong. You survived the trials. You're a witcher for crying out loud!”

“And he's the biggest cry baby you’ll ever see.” Geralt spoke from the doorway. You smiled a little, wiping your cheeks. 

“That’s debatable.” Lambert muttered. 

Triss and Yennefer entered the room. Yennefer stayed off to the side while Triss came to you. Yenn was there for backup if Triss needed it. 

“You ready for this, bug?” Lambert asked you, rubbing your knee. 

You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head. 

Eskel 

You slammed one of the cabinets in the kitchen shut and turned to gather the rest of the clean dishes from the woven basket on the table. 

“Y/N, you really should let someone else take care of that.” Eskel said. 

“No one else knows how to put them away the right way.” You told him. There was no kindness in your voice, no peaceful tone to your words. You sounded bitter and angry. 

“I don’t think there’s really any wrong way to put away dishes.” Lambert thought out loud. 

“And that’s exactly why I’m putting them away.” 

“Y/N, let me help-,”

“No!” You cut Eskel off, turning to face him. “Just let me do this! Let me put these away so they are done right.”

Eskel stopped walking towards you, brows drawn together. 

“Eskel.” Geralt said his brother’s name and beckoned for Eskel to join him and Lambert at the table. 

Eskel looked back at you once more before going to his brothers. He sat down next to Geralt, arms resting on the table.

“What is up her ass?” Lambert whispered low enough so you couldn’t hear. 

“I don’t know.” Eskel shook his head, eyes finding you. “She’s been like this since she woke up.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s made the whole keep feel like hell today.”

“Is something wrong with her?” Geralt asked. 

“She won’t tell me if anything is wrong. She’s just been an entirely different person all day.”

The witchers fell silent as Jaskier entered the room. 

“Good evening, Y/N!” The bard chirped. 

You were reaching a shelf that was probably a little too high up for you, so he decided to offer a hand. 

“Let me help you, darling-,”

“Fuck off, bard!” You snapped at him, placing the plate down on the counter with enough force to nearly break it. “Just-Just leave me alone! What is with you men not understanding a gods damned word coming out of my mouth today?”

You stormed across the room, jaw locked and eyes set on the door you wanted to leave through. Well, to say you stormed through was a little bit of an exaggeration. With your enormous pregnant belly, the most you could do was angrily waddle.

The witchers and the bard watched you leave the room, the door slamming shut behind you.

“That was absolutely terrifying.” Jaskier put his hand over his heart. “What did I say to make her so explosive?”

“It’s not you, Jaskier.” Eskel shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m sorry about that. She’s…. She’s never like this.”

“I’ve faced bloodthirsty alps and I can honestly say I’d rather deal with them than an angry Y/N.” Lambert shook his head. “Good luck, brother.”

Eskel felt as though he’d need more than luck to deal with you. 

He found you in the courtyard, resting on a stool by the goats’ enclosure. Your legs were parted and you braced your hands on your knees. Your eyes were closed tightly. 

“Are you okay, doll?” 

You didn’t answer him. This worried the witcher. He moved to kneel down in front of you. His hand slipped around your stomach, holding you tenderly.

“Y/N, my love, please answer me.” He begged quietly, brows drawn together. 

Your eyes opened, glossy and red. You shook your head gently. You knew that if you spoke, you’d lose what control you had over the situation. 

“Please, Y/N. Just-Just tell me what’s wrong.” Eskel reached up to brush a few pieces of hair out of your eyes. 

“Nothing.” You shook your head, pulling his hand away from your face. You rubbed your face and tried to stand up but he wouldn’t let you. 

“It’s obviously not nothing. You’ve been acting weird all morning. Is everything okay with you? With the baby?”

“I’m fine, Eskel.” You spoke through your teeth as a surge of pain drove through your hips. You removed his hand from your stomach, his touch burning in a way that made the pain worse. 

“No, you aren’t. You’ve been avoiding me all day, Y/N, and-and you’ve been mad at everyone who talks to you.” He placed his hands on his thighs, feeling hurt that you’d push his hand off of you. So many thoughts ran through his mind and his stomach churned. Why had you pushed him away? Why were you avoiding him? Why were you angry at him and at everyone else?

“Did I do something?” His voice was weak and timid.

“No, Eskel.” You shook your head, rubbing your eyes once more.

“Then please, Y/N.” He begged, heart racing in his chest. “Please just tell me what is wrong so I can make it better. I-I-I feel so helpless. You’re angry and you’ve been harsh with everyone. You’ve never raised your voice at me, let alone the others. Something is wrong, Y/N, and I-I can’t leave you alone until you tell me what it is.”

Your head hung and your eyes squeezed shut tightly. He could hear how furiously your heart was pounding. Tears fell from your eyes as you brought your hands up to cover your face. You shook your head.

“I-I can’t- Eskel, I can’t do this. Everything hurts so bad.” You cried, finally leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder.

“What hurts, my love?” He pressed kisses to the side of your head, one hand coming up to embrace you in a careful hug while the other rubbed the outside of your thigh. 

“I’m so scared, Eskel. I-I can’t-I can’t do this. I can’t.” Your tears dampened his neck but he didn’t mind. Your breath was hot and your fingers dug into him so tightly he thought for sure he’d have bruises. 

“You have to explain to me what is hurting, doll.” He pulled away just enough to cup your face and brush his thumbs over your flushed cheeks. “If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”

“I-I’m-I’m sorry I’ve been so angry and so mean.” You leaned into his touch. “The baby- It’s coming.”

Eskel’s brows drew together and he looked down at your stomach for a moment.

“What?”

“My-My water broke this morning.” You shook your head. “But I-I-I can’t do this, Eskel! I can’t do this! I’m-I’m so scared! I can’t!”

“Y/N, look at me.” He held your face between his large hands, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him. “Why didn’t you let me know when it happened? You’ve been moving around so much today. You should’ve been sitting down and resting until the baby comes.”

“I can’t do it, Eskel.”

“Yes, you can.” 

Even though you were freaking out and crying, he was calm. He took your hand in his and tucked your hand underneath the neck of his shirt. He placed your hand directly over his heart and applied a little pressure, wanting you to feel his heart beating steadily.

“You need to calm down, doll.” His voice was gentle and tender, matching his eyes and his touch. “Everything will be okay. I know you’re hurting right now but it will be over soon. Okay?”

You nodded. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips and then your forehead. 

“Let’s get you inside and to a bed.” He stood to his feet and held his arm out for you.

Geralt

You shivered a little, pulling one of the numerous cloaks you wore tighter around your body. 

“Are you cold, dove?” He asked, his hand immediately finding the small of your back. 

“Just my nose.” You explained. “The wind is terrible today.”

You had wanted to go on a walk around the grounds of the keep, feeling the need to stretch your legs. You walked alongside him, your arms weaved together. 

“Do you need my cloak?” Geralt asked, starting to take his off. 

“No, no, Geralt.” You shook your head, almost laughing at him. “I’ve got plenty of layers on. I don’t need anymore.”

The White Wolf had made sure you were wearing at least six layers before you both ventured outside. You were sure you had on one of his cloaks and maybe even Lambert’s or Eskel’s. You didn’t mind though. The cloaks were nice and cozy, and they smelled like Geralt, all musk and fire and steel.

Geralt’s arm slipped out of yours so he could go down the steps first. He held his hand out for you, eyes carefully watching your footing to make sure you wouldn’t fall down the four stone steps. 

“Why thank you, good sir.” You grinned just a little, placing your hand in his. 

“My pleasure.” His grin was a little less prominent than yours, but it still warmed your heart. 

You began to lead the way to the little area the goats were kept. You wanted to check on them and make sure they’d be warm enough for the evening.

Before you could reach the goat enclosure, a sudden wave of heat came over you. You stopped walking and started desperately tearing at the cloaks in an attempt to take them off. 

“Y/N?” Geralt furrowed his brows together. “What are you doing?”

“I’m-I’m just too hot.” You handed him the top cloak and then the next one. 

“It’s far too cold for you to be in such little-,”

“Geralt, I am too hot for all those layers.” You told him firmly. Your heart started racing and a thin layer of sweat covered your skin. With the wind, this chilled you but at the same time, you felt like you were on fire. 

You were down to your last cloak when you finally felt a little comfortable. The wind shifted and suddenly Geralt knew what was happening. He could sense the changes in your body, the chemical ones no one else would have been able to detect. 

“Are you hurting?” He asked, furrowing his brows together. 

Before you had a chance to answer him, you sucked in a sharp breath and put your hand on the side of your stomach. It was as if your body had waited for the perfect moment to start having contractions. 

“We need to get you to the bedroom.” Geralt spoke mostly to himself. He handed you the cloaks and then, before you could object, he very carefully picked you up bridal style. 

***

Geralt placed you carefully down on the bed. 

You stayed sitting up, one leg hanging off while the other was bent. Your head hung as you tried to focus on your breathing, to listen to what your body was telling you. 

The pressure between your hips didn’t seem to be growing, but it was there and it was bothersome. 

You looked up to see where your dear husband had gone. 

He was moving around the room almost frantically. He checked the windows to make sure there wasn’t a draft coming in. He checked all of the candles lit around the room for when the sun went down. He didn’t want them to run out and leave him in the dark with you in labor. He could see just fine without light, but you wouldn’t be able to see. He checked the chest at the foot of the bed to make sure clean blankets and linens were there should they be needed. 

As he was moving across the room to check the fire in the hearth, you called his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut and you were leaning forward, one hand on the bed in front of you and the other on your stomach. 

“Y/N?” He wanted to move towards you but his boots seemed stuck to the wooden floor beneath him. 

You didn’t realize until then that his eyes were glossy and he was fighting back tears. 

“Why are you crying, my love?”

He looked away from you for a moment, trying to gain control of his emotions. 

“I don’t like seeing you in pain.” He explained, clearing his throat. “I-I’m the reason why you’re hurting and there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.”

Your heart melted hearing him sound so upset and concerned. 

“Oh, Geralt.” You murmured his name. “Come here. Come sit with me. Please.”

Geralt didn’t hesitate to move to your side. Before getting on to the bed, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. The mattress dipped beneath his weight behind you. 

“Lean on me, dove.” He kissed the side of your head, his hands slipping around your sides. 

You sunk back against him, eyes fluttering shut as the pain seemed to ease up. The new position didn’t put so much pressure on your back. 

His hands, large and warm, rubbed the sides of your stomach. He tucked his nose into your hair, eyes closing as he breathed in and out, listening to your heartbeat and the one inside of you. 

Whenever a contraction came around, you’d tense up and he’d rub your stomach. He’d whisper in your ear how strong you were, how much he loved you, and how happy he was. 

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, you spoke. 

“Geralt? Tell me a story.” You rubbed his hand that rested on your stomach. 

“What kind of story?”

“Of your time with Jaskier before I met you. I miss him, Geralt.”

“I know.” Geralt kept his lips against the side of your head. “He’ll be here soon.”

Geralt began to tell you of one of the many times Jaskier was the reason they were run out of town. He’d pause for a moment when a contraction came, hesitating to make sure you were okay. 

It killed him that there wasn’t anything he could do to stop the pain or lessen it. This had to happen. Yes, it wasn’t fun and yes, he felt so useless, but soon, his child would be in his arms with you at his side. 

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @crazybutconfidentaf @runawayolives @she-wolfoftheinquisition @onlygeraltofrivia  

[megalony]

Teacher’s pet- Part 17

I haven’t written this series in a while but it feels so good to get back into it, thank you for all the lovely messages asking about this series, I hope you will all like this next part. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem​ @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​  @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​ @allauraleigh​

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @gwilymleeisbae​ @k-k0129​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @glittrixvibe @youngpastafanmug​ @ultraviolencezs​

Series masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) teaches at the school Ben’s boys go to and they soon start a relationship. But they have their ups and downs with the problems Ben faces with his boys and how quickly the relationship progresses.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When daddy gets back, we go home?"

(Y/n) turned on her heels to look behind her when Finn's voice could just be heard over the radio. The four-year-old had been pottering around upstairs for a while but (Y/n) had started to focus more on the songs playing on the radio than the sound of her youngest boy hurrying about, unsure what he should do.

(Y/n)'s eyes glanced over to look at Gwilym before she headed over to where Finn was standing in the doorway, either too anxious or simply unsure about whether he should enter the room or not.

This was the family's fifth day in their new house but both Carter and Finn needed more time to get used to it. Carter didn't like change, it unsettled him and a new house meant getting used to a new room and different surroundings. The living room had a strange layout, he had to get used to the utensils in the kitchen being in different drawers, the dining room was different and so was the garden. (Y/n) and Ben were wallpapering and painting the house so every room was new and foreign and Carter didn't like it yet.

He got to choose what colour he wanted his room, where he wanted his bed and his tv and where he should have a shelf for his figurines and books. But it was figuring out the right place for everything that was unnerving Carter. He didn't know where the right place for everything was, he had to work it all out and have it looking perfect.

For the last four days Carter had scarcely come out of his room, mainly staying put to watch tv and rearrange everything. His room was the only one in the house so far that he was getting used to so it was the only room he wanted to stay in.

With Finn it was different.

He didn't mind that the house was being decorated or that things were in different places and it was new surroundings, he cared that it wasn't home. Finn had been too young to remember the first house he lived in with Ben and Lucy and his brothers but their old house was the one he had grown up in, it was a safe place for him and he had to feel safe. This new house was somewhere he would have to get used to and try and make it feel safe, he wanted to go back to their home, he didn't want to stay here.

Getting the house and moving into it had been done quickly but quietly, the boys were told they would be moving but Ben and (Y/n) had sorted everything and started moving things before telling the boys exactly what day they were moving to try and make it easier. They didn't overthink or panic about it because they didn't have much time to panic.

"Baby, I know you want to go back to the old house, but this is our new home, when it's all finished it will feel better I promise. Why don't you stay in here and help decorate with me and uncle Gwil?"

It had been a little easier for Finn to try and adjust because he was still sharing a room with James. Someone had to share a room and Carter needed to be on his own so he didn't lash out and the baby could hardly share with any of the boys because it wouldn't be fair. James and Finn were close and James didn't mind helping Finn when he was unsettled or panicked so it was the best option for them to share a room. Carter had one of the smaller rooms to himself, the boys shared a bigger room, (Y/n) and Ben had their room and then there was another small room that was for the baby.

Finn looked around the room as he stayed stood on the threshold like he was too afraid to actually take a step forward into the room. The boy's rooms had been decorated first to try and help the three of them settle in, now they were working on the baby's room before doing their own room and then working their way downstairs. It was going to take a while to get the whole house decorated the way they wanted it but at least if they got the bedrooms done it would be easier and more settling for the boys.

With Ben being called into work today due to being short staffed, Gwilym had offered to help with the decorating. The baby's room was being painted dark cherry blossom with one feature wall that had already been painted magnolia to give a bit more light into the room.

"No." Finn shook his head, staying put in the doorway. He wasn't too keen on painting, it seemed rather boring and very time consuming.

If James was still at home today then Finn would have been more settled, he could have watched tv or played games with him but James was with Ellie for the day since he hadn't seen her in over two months. And Finn knew better than to try and play with Carter when he was unsettled as it was.

"Why don't we take a break and get something to eat?" Gwilym spoke up, putting down the paint roller in his hand. They were about due a break by now and it might settle Finn if they watched some tv and had something to eat. "You go down and pick something out to eat and I'll come down in a minute."

They watched the youngest boy nod, looking a bit calmer as he turned and headed to the stairs and disappeared from sight.

"One more coat of paint and it should be done." (Y/n) spoke quietly as she rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead. With Gwilym being taller than (Y/n) it was easier for him to paint the top of the walls where (Y/n) couldn't reach, stretching up wasn't an option either with the weight of the baby. Both Ben and Gwilym had tried telling (Y/n) to take it easy but she wanted to paint because the quicker it got done the sooner they could get on with the rest of the house.

"I think another coat should do it, but I think you need a break. Me and Finn will make some dinner, you sit down."

Gwilym ran his hand through his hair, brushing the curls out of his eyes before he moved to put his glasses back on that had been stuffed into his pocket to prevent them from being coated in paint.

"I'm fine-"

"Ben said you didn't feel well this morning, you think I want the wrath of him if he finds out you've been overdoing it today? Sit down and rest, please."

Gwilym and (Y/n) had been friends since she started at the school and he and Ben had been friends for years, they were both close to Gwilym's heart. On the one hand he knew that (Y/n) would stop and rest when and if needed, she wouldn't push herself too far. Gwilym would never want to try and control her or tell her what to do. But on the other hand he knew that sometimes she would push through phases of feeling unwell or under the weather and he knew how protective Ben was about his family. Gwilym wouldn't want to be around if Ben got annoyed that (Y/n) hadn't taken it easy like she should.

"Hmm, fine." (Y/n) narrowed her eyes playfully with a tired but playful smile as she took a few steps over to sit down on the rocking chair in the corner that was draped with an old paint-stained sheet.

(Y/n) wouldn't admit it but it did feel better to sit down and rest for a bit, stretching up to paint the walls or bending down to get the bottom near the skirting boards was tiresome. And she couldn't allow herself to stop until the first coat of paint was done or it would dry funny and patchy and that would grate on her nerves.

Her eyes followed Gwilym as he raised a brow at her before he made his way out of the room, leaving her to sit and listen to the radio which she had forgotten was still playing in the background. She leaned her head back until the wooden back of the chair was resting lightly against the base of her neck to support her head. Her eyes fell closed to try and relieve the headache slowly beginning to form behind her eyes and she slowly shifted her weight from her heels to her toes to slowly rock the chair.

All morning (Y/n) had felt her headache come and go like it was testing her, visiting her to see how she would react to the intrusion and it didn't help matters how much the baby was shifting like she couldn't seem to get comfy.

A sigh passed through (Y/n)'s lips before she pushed herself to stand up, wondering if having a drink might take away her headache in case she was starting to get dehydrated. Weaving around the pots of paint and rollering boards, (Y/n) moved to get her drink that rested on the windowsil next to the radio. The room was starting to look more homely now that the first coat of paint was finished and (Y/n) knew once they'd got some pictures put on the walls and everything in its place, the room would look much better.

The one thing that (Y/n) didn't like about moving was how impatient she became. She wanted to paint and decorate the whole place in one day, she wanted to put up pictures and place books on shelves and make it feel like home. Downstairs wasn't even started yet so there was no way (Y/n) could start putting up pictures yet which made her agitated and impatient.

There were three canvas pictures that (Y/n) was desperate to put up in the living room, they were of Ben and the boys and all four of them were smiling and laughing in the pictures and they were something that would make it feel more like home for them all.

(Y/n) also knew that once their girl was born, she wanted to get a canvas picture of her and have it on the wall above the cot.

Putting the glass back down, (Y/n) took a moment to look out the window which showed the drive and front garden. Her hand moved to rest on her lower stomach when she could feel the baby shifting again proving that she simply couldn't get comfy today which in turn made (Y/n) uncomfy.

Her eyes focused on the light grey carpet she knew they needed to change and her feet slowly padded around the paint, not wanting to spill any since they had gone ahead and painted without any sheets being put down on the floor to protect the old carpet. But her free hand quickly reached out for the cot resting unused on her left when she could feel the room starting to spin.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) tried to breathe deeply and see if it would take away the feeling that was as if a fog was clouding her mind and stirring trouble behind her eyes. She slowly shuffled her feet to try and get to the rocking chair, knowing it would be better to sit down than to keep standing and let the blood drain from her head.

(Y/n) didn't know what her foot got caught on, she didn't see what snagged at the toe of her slipper but whatever it was made her toes bend completely under her foot which felt like it snapped in half as it folded over itself. The top of her foot scraped against the carpet as the bones clicked either into or out of place before her body was suddenly tumbling forward off balance.

There was nothing around that she could use to steady herself and her eyes immediately snapped closed from both the pain and shock and from instinct when she started to fall. Some sort of gasp or even a screech instinctively left her lips before it felt like everything was turned off.

She could hear the static in her ears like the radio had lost its signal but turned its sound up to the max. Her eyes were tightly closed to the point they were stinging but it took (Y/n) a moment to realise she was no longer falling.

She knew for certain that she was motionless now and she was no longer flying forwards through the air, but she didn't remember stopping.

Opening her eyes was a struggle, they felt like they were weighed down like coins were pressed down on her eyelids to prevent her from seeing something. And the rest of her body felt heavy and was trembling like she was feeling the after effects of an electric shock. She could see the painting tray a few feet in front of her and the curved foot of the rocking chair was next to her. Everything felt numb and heavy but (Y/n) forced her arms to move so that she could shakily grab the seat of the rocking chair, she needed to pull herself up from the awkward way she was laying. She had to get up and check herself over to make sure she was okay, she couldn't lay here like this.

"Mum, did you knock something over again?" Carter's voice barely reached (Y/n)'s ears that still felt like they were full of static.

The eldest boy walked out of his room and up the three small steps that led to the upper two rooms. He leaned his head around the room on the right before moving towards the nursery room since he knew they had been painting that room this morning. But Carter froze in his tracks, his eyes blown wide with confusion and fear when he looked at (Y/n).

She was on her knees in front of the rocking chair which her arms were heavily resting on and she was trembling. It looked as if she was going to be sick or even faint and Carter could see that her eyes weren't seeing everything properly like her vision was blurring.

"Mum?" There was a lot of concern in Carter's voice but his expression was rather neutral. He didn't seem able to express any emotion but anger in his face and right now he looked unfazed but sounded scared and was stunned and unmoving.

(Y/n) wanted to talk, she wanted to try and tell Carter she just felt dizzy and had tripped. She wanted to calm him down and reassure him she was fine, but the only thing she could do was close her eyes and let her head fall onto her arms that were resting on the chair. Her throat was constricting and her head couldn't formulate a sentence or allow her to even move any more than this.

Carter's brows sank down until they were almost resting in his eyes as he pressed his lips together tightly. What was she doing? He could feel a bout of anger burning through him because she wasn't telling him what she was doing, she was kneeling like she was praying but she looked ill. Curling his hands into fists, Carter huffed his next breath before he turned on his heels and jumped down the three steps to get onto the hallway. He took long strides and rounded the corner to the right before he stormed down the stairs and swung round the bottom of the bannister.

He skidded a few times when running through the hall to reach the kitchen where he could hear Gwilym and Finn chatting away.

"Uncle Gwil, mum's sat on the floor and she won't talk to me. It sounded like she kicked something but she won't move."

A frown etched onto Gwilym's features and his eyes narrowed at Carter behind his glasses. It was always necessary to take Carter's words with a pinch of salt, especially when he tried to explain something because he could never say what he meant or explain what he had seen. He sounded cryptic a lot of the time like he did right now and he looked angry as if (Y/n) was purposely ignoring him which Gwilym knew she wouldn't do.

"Um, right... Finn why don't you sit and eat at the table? I'll go talk to your mum."

Gwilym didn't know what was going on but he knew he didn't like the sound of it, there was a bad feeling in his gut telling him that this wasn't going to be good. He headed over to Carter, resting a hand on his shoulder before he bypassed him and made his way upstairs to go and see (Y/n).

The moment Gwilym reached the nursery his body recoiled in shock and his lips parted but no words came out. He moved like he'd been pushed into the room, stumbling forward but catching himself before he moved to bend down on his knees beside (Y/n) who felt more awake than she did moments ago. He cautiously moved his arm to wrap around (Y/n)'s upper back and placed his other hand on her arm, trying to coax her to look at him and tell him what the problem was.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" He sat back on his legs and leaned up a bit straighter when (Y/n) slowly straightened up and moved so she was no longer resting her head on the chair.

"I- I tripped a-and fell..."

When her eyes locked with Gwilym's it was like he was trying to have a silent conversation with her because he knew Carter was stood in the doorway, but (Y/n) couldn't work out what he was trying to say.

"Let's sit you down and make sure you're okay." Gwilym took it as a good sign that she wasn't sobbing in pain or cradling a part of herself that was hurt but he still didn't like how she seemed like her mind was somewhere else. She looked drowsy which told him she had blacked out or fainted even if it was only for a few seconds. He knew that look well, he had experienced it a few times in his life.

Moving his arms, Gwilym made sure they were securely around (Y/n)'s waist as she slowly moved her trembling arms until her hands were holding Gwilym's upper arms. She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to plant her feet properly on the floor so she could stand up. Gwilym took most of her weight to help stand her up but he froze in place when a moan left (Y/n)'s lips and her head fell forward into his chest.

"Does something hurt?"

"N-no... oh no..." (Y/n) breathed through her words before it sounded like she was choking on a sob. Her words sparked worry in Gwilym and he shifted her in his arms so he was holding her against his chest, not wanting to risk her falling to her knees and hurting herself again. But he could feel himself starting to shake when he saw that (Y/n) had moved her hand to press to her stomach.

She didn't?

"Gwil i-it- oh, it hurts."

She'd fallen and hit her stomach on something. She could have hurt the baby, the pain might be something to do with the baby.

"Okay, (Y/n) listen to me it's okay, let's get you sat down and then we'll take things from there. You could have just grazed yourself, it might be nothing." She may have just caught her stomach on something very lightly, it might just be something that would bruise and cause no problems so there might not be a reason to panic yet. If they got her sat down and calmed down, they could see if the pain got worse and then take things from there, probably go and get her seen by a doctor just to make sure.

When he felt (Y/n) nod against his chest, Gwilym took a deep breath before slowly shuffling (Y/n) back and carefully setting her down in the chair she had been leaning up against moments ago.

"Carter, why don't you go-"

"No! I wanna stay with mum." Carter took a few steps into the room to show that he didn't want to leave in case (Y/n) wasn't well but at the same time, he didn't want to get too close in case she didn't want him to be here. She might be like Ben and wouldn't want Carter to see her in pain, he didn't want to go but he didn't want to upset (Y/n) either.

"Why don't you go and check on Finn and then bring me my phone so I can call your dad, let him know what's happened?"

Carter debated Gwilym's words, wanting to stay desperately but he also wanted Ben to come home. Ben always said that he took care of everything and that he looked after them all, if (Y/n) wasn't well then she needed Ben here so he could look after her. He pursed his lips before he nodded and turned to hurry downstairs, the thought of Ben pressing on his mind more and more.

"Can I take a look?" Gwilym crouched down beside (Y/n) before he motioned to her stomach, not wanting to touch her or try and check her over if she was in too much pain or felt too uncomfortable.

When (Y/n) nodded through gritted teeth, Gwilym slowly moved her shirt up so he could see her stomach. He pressed his lips together into a thin line as his nails dug into the palms of his hands so he could trya nd remain calm. The left side of her stomach was starting to mix red and white in an odd but large shape. If he had to guess, Gwilym was rather sure that she had fallen hard and smacked her stomach straight into something. There was no graze and no cut but she was bleeding under the surface of her skin, but there was no way for him to see if it had done any damage to the baby except for the pain that seemed to be getting worse.

"I think we should get you checked out, just to be safe."

(Y/n) didn't have the will or the nerve to argue because the pain was getting worse and when the baby moved it only made the pain increase and an uncomfortable feeling start to arise. It felt like her side and her lower stomach were on fire and the fire was slowly starting to spread and get worse. It was overpowering the pain in her foot which was throbbing from how awkwardly it had bent when she fell.

"Finn's watching tv, can we call dad now?" Carter's sudden interruption made them both jump before Gwilym nodded and reached his hand out for the phone in Carter's grip.

"Yeah, I'll call him now but I need to stay up here with your mum while we sort a few things so can you go and stay with Finn please? If he comes up here and sees your mum's hurt he'll get scared and we don't want that."

If they were going to take (Y/n) to hospital then they needed to sort out the boys. James would be coming home later this afternoon and none of the boys could be here on their own. If Ben couldn't come home from work then Gwilym needed to take (Y/n) to get checked out and taking the boys with them wouldn't be the best idea. Gwilym didn't want Finn finding out just yet because he would get unsettled and frightened and he also didn't want Carter listening to him talking to Ben because that would unsettle him too.

Gwilym pushed himself to his feet, trying to smile at Carter to calm him down before the eldest left the room, slamming the door behind him to show he wasn't happy about being told to leave.

Anxiety started to dwell up in the pit of Gwilym's stomach, he'd never had to call Ben before when he was at work. (Y/n) had only done that once and that was a few weeks ago when he had to come straight from work to the school to talk to Carter. Gwilym had no idea if Ben would actually answer or if he would be too busy and if he didn't answer then they would have to find someone to look after the boys so Gwilym could take (Y/n) to get checked over.

If that happened then Ben would be a nervous wreck when they got through to him and said they were at or had been to the hospital.

A sigh of relief left Gwilym's lips when he heard Ben's voice on the other end of the line, he had answered.

"Hey mate... look, I know you're at work but something's come up... no, the boys are fine, um, (Y/n)'s had a fall... well I think-"

Gwilym stuttered through his words, trying to stay calm and not overpanic Ben because they didn't know if something was drastically wrong yet or not. But he stopped himself short when (Y/n) made a noise that sounded like she was stuck between crying and wanting to scream. When he looked at her, she was doubled over in the chair to the point she was surely going to fall off and land on her knees. Her right hand was pressed tightly against her stomach and her other hand was gripping the arm of the chair, her chin tucked tightly into her chest.

He tried to follow her line of sight, pulling the phone away from his ear so Ben's concerned words didn't deafen him. But when Gwilym tried to see what was wrong and he looked to where (Y/n) was looking, a shiver ran down his spine and he jumped when (Y/n) started to sob.

"Ben, I think (Y/n)'s water just broke."

[fleetingpieces]

Finding you

This was supposed to be a short drabble with some angst and lots of fluff, but ended up being a long one shot with lots of angst. Oops.

Trigger warning: violence, slurs and abuse. Please look after yourself :) Fuck.

Remus froze by the door, the keys still dangling in his hand. The sight in front of him was one that never promised anything good; the smell of smoke and beer was strong, making the air in the room feel heavy and loaded. He could already feel the cold sweat at the back of his neck. He considered opening the door again and just leaving the house, but then one of the men sitting in the living room glanced up, and his eyes landed right on Remus, smirking, making Remus’ muscles lock in disgust.

Remus knew the two men all too well. He knew their names, but never thought of them if he could avoid it; they brought too many bad memories. The dark-haired one -who was still looking at Remus- was the worst; the one with dirty blond curls was just a stupid pawn. Both of them were sprawled on the couch, talking loudly as if they were in their own house, their dirty boots propped on the coffee table that Remus had cleaned that very morning.

Their visits were becoming more and more frequent, and Remus didn’t miss how they always coincided with Lyall’s worst episodes. He was pretty sure they actually encouraged them for their own amusement.

His sorry excuse of a father followed his friend’s gaze then, finally noticing Remus still standing by the front door. Remus gulped as Lyall’s bleary eyes became darker.

“Where the fuck were you?”

“At work.” He tried to come out strong, but the sound of the keys clinking in his trembling hand betrayed his attempt.

Lyall stood up and took a couple of wobbly steps closer to Remus, bracing a hand on the shelf on the wall to support himself. Behind him, the man with raven black hair looked Remus up and down slowly, licking his lips. Remus felt dirty being watched like that.

“I told you I was having people over. I ordered you to come back to make dinner for us,” said Lyall, glaring at him. Remus felt his blood boil.

“Well someone has to bring money to pay the bills, since you are too busy being a lazy ass drunkard.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, it was not smart of him to talk like that right now. But he was just overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking brat!” Lyall yelled, swinging his arm violently over the shelf he’d been holding, and throwing everything on top of it to the floor.

Remus watched horrified as the silver frame that had his mother’s picture fell through the air, arching as if in slow motion. It landed viciously on the hardwood floor. When he heard the loud crack it made, Remus felt his heart shattering as well.

The sound sprang him into motion for the first time since stepping into this godforsaken house. He rushed over, kneeling on the floor next to the small shards scattered all over the floor. One of them dug itself into his knee, but Remus barely even noticed it. He was looking at the frame, the glass had cracked into a million pieces, forming sharp spiderwebs that spreaded over Hope’s smiling face.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Remus yelled, holding it close to his chest with both arms, protecting it like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

He was using all of his strength to fight the tears; he would not cry in front of these men. Standing up slowly, he glared at Lyall. Remus could have sworn that he saw regret in his eyes for a moment, but it was gone the minute Remus spoke again.

“You disgust me,” he spat.

Lyall’s eyes glinted, and if Remus hadn’t been holding his mother’s picture he would have raised his arms to protect his head. As it was though, Lyall’s fist connected with his jaw, making his head snap to the side painfully. He’d punched him with the full strength of a drunken adult, which made Remus see stars dancing in his vision and stumble back, while the two guys behind them cackled loudly.

A few tears escaped Remus’ eyes then, both from the pain in his face and the even greater one in his chest. He could still remember a time when the man in front of him was actually his father. A time when they would laugh together, and Lyall would teach him to play ball. But that had all been when Hope was still in their lives. Lyall had not been the same after the accident, and in consequence, Remus had lost both of his parents the day Hope’d died.

Cold fear crept up Remus’ spine as he stared at the rage seeping out of Lyall’s eyes. He knew where this was going, how everything would turn out if he didn’t do something; and he was pretty sure that he didn’t have any more antiseptics or gauzes hidden in his room, he’d used them all the last time.

He took a careful step back.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Remus didn’t stay to give an answer, he turned around and bolted to his room. Lyall was too drunk to catch him, but Remus could hear the clumsy steps and the string of curses following behind him. As soon as he had one foot inside his bedroom, he slammed the door shut, throwing the lock on.

He took a couple of steps back, not daring to take his eyes off the door, but he still flinched when Lyall started pounding on it.

“Open the fucking door!”

His back bumped into the opposite wall, and he leaned his weight against it. He was shaking way too much to stand on his own.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What should he do? There was no way he could open that door, but Lyall was pummeling it so hard that the hinges were groaning. Remus glanced around frantically, and his eyes landed on his dresser. Pushing himself off the wall, he rushed over and shoved it in front of the door, panting with the effort.

There was a pause in the rapping, leaving behind a silence that felt heavy on Remus' shoulders. His breathing was coming in short and painful bursts; the air around him didn’t seem enough to fill his lungs. He needed to calm down, but he also needed to get the fuck out of there, he didn’t believe for a second that Lyall had simply decided to let it go.

Remus took out his phone and called the only person that was on his mind at that moment. Luckily, the line rang only two times.

“Hello?”

“Sirius..”

“Re? Hey, what’s up?”

Remus took a shaky breath in, willing his voice to be steady, but he could only manage a hoarse whisper.

“Can you come pick me up?”

“Right now? I can’t, my bike broke down yesterday, remember? I didn’t have time to get it fixed yet.”

Remus did remember. James, Sirius and Remus had gone to an old dirt road that Sirius loved to go to because it meant he could use his bike at top speed and pretend he was in a Motocross race. But Sirius had also tried to teach James how to ride it, which had clearly been a terrible mistake. James had somehow managed to crash into a tree going 20 km an hour; and even though he hadn’t been injured, the handlebar had broken. Sirius had almost cried when he saw the state of his motorbike, and Remus had been teasing both him and James since.

“James’ parents took the car too, but I could take a bus to your house,” Sirius suggested, saying it as a question, but Remus shook his head even if Sirius couldn’t see him. He knew it would be too late then.

“No, no. It’s ok. Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”

His voice broke at the end, and Remus had to clamp a hand over his mouth to reign in a sob.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked immediately. The worry in his voice was evident, but Remus’ throat had closed up, he couldn’t reply. “Re? Remus, what’s going on?”

The pounding on the door started again, making Remus jump while he scrambled to hang up. He didn’t want Sirius listening to this.

“REMUS! I swear I will knock this fucking door down!”

Remus didn’t doubt that he meant it. He had to get out.

Grabbing a bag from his wardrobe, Remus hastily filled it with essentials, starting with the picture frame he was still holding against his chest. He wrapped it up in a t-shirt to protect the rest of his stuff from the broken glass, there was not time to get rid of it now.

All the while, the curses and fists against the door didn’t stop; Remus could tell that the other two men had joined in to try and get into his room. Right then, he was so fucking thankful for that old, heavy dresser.

The wood sounded like it was cracking when Remus had finally gathered everything he needed and threw the window open. Trying not to think about the distance to the ground, he swung both legs over the windowsill and jumped as quietly as he could.

Remus rolled on the floor a few times, a sharp pain shooting through his knee. He’d completely forgotten about the shard of glass that had undoubtedly buried itself deeper just now, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. He had to go before they noticed he was gone. He didn’t think they would go after him, but he couldn’t take any chances.

Greeting his teeth, Remus ran down the street until he turned the corner; then he slowed down a bit until he was walking at a fast pace, mentally preparing himself for the 45 minute walk to James’ house. The fresh night air felt like a blessing against his face as he tried to calm his nerves, but Remus knew he wouldn’t feel completely safe until he was at his friend’s house.

He was about halfway there when his phone rang.

“Remus!”

“James?”

“Rem, what the hell is going on? Sirius has been walking around the house like a maniac, babbling nonsense about you acting weird, and needing our help…”

“It’s fine James, don’t worry. I’m actually on my w-” Remus tried to explain, but James kept talking at full speed.

“...and then Mum and Dad came back and Sirius just stole the car keys and ran out, yelling for me to call you and tell you that-”

“Wait, what?” Remus yelled, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Yeah, he just said he was going to get you. He looked pretty worried when he left, but he didn’t explain anything.”

“No. No no no no no.”

Remus panicked. If Sirius went to his house, where Lyall and his friends were surely mad that Remus had ran away… He shuddered to think what they would do. And Sirius absolutely lacked common sense and self preservation, he was too reckless.

“Remus? Remus please, talk to me.”

“I need to call him. He can’t go there, I need to-”

“I tried, but the prat left his phone. He just ran off as soon as my parents came in.”

Remus felt as if his world was starting to collapse. He couldn’t stand the idea of Sirius getting hurt because of him. He couldn’t stand the idea of Sirius getting hurt, period. He looked around frantically, as if he would find something that could help him in the deserted street.

“How long ago did he leave?” he asked James. He could hear the desperation in his own voice, and the confusion in James’.

“Just a few minutes, but-”

Remus hung up. He turned around and sprinted as fast as he could, back to the hell house. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he couldn’t stop to explain everything to James. The only thing on his mind was Sirius.

Images of everything that Remus had been going through at home came rushing in, but with Sirius’ face instead of his, bloody and broken. The mere mental image caused him so much pain and rage, it was unbearable.

Sirius was the most important person in his life, the thought of losing him scared the shit out of Remus. He was like the sunshine in Remus’ longest night. He’d picked up Remus’ pieces when his Mum’s death had torn him apart, and stayed by his side when Lyall started spiralling down. He always knew where to find Remus and how to bring him into the light.

Remus had never told any of his friends what was going on at home, he couldn’t stand the idea of them looking at him with pity, knowing he was a coward that couldn’t stand up for himself. Especially not Sirius. Sirius who was all courage, smiles and warm feelings.

Feelings, Remus groaned internally.

He’d been trying to get rid of his feelings for Sirius for months now, but they only seemed to be getting stronger. Remus had been terrified when he’d realized he was in love with his best friend, he’d had no idea what to do. He still didn’t. Telling his friends that he was gay would have been a good start, but after Hope had passed Remus had lost the nerve to do it. He couldn’t tell Sirius, he couldn’t risk losing him.

His lungs were burning by the time he reached his house, but the sight of the Potter’s car parked hastily with the front wheel on top of the curb gave him a boost of energy.

The front door was open, the yelling reaching Remus’ ears and sending another pang of fear through him.

“Where’s Remus?!”

As Remus stepped in, what he saw inside froze him in place for a moment, just like a mere hour earlier. But the sight in front of him right now was scarier in a very different way.

The man with the dirty blond hair was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. The other man was just standing there, cracking his knuckles and laughing perversely at the two men standing in the middle of the room. Lyall seemed to be out of it, a beer bottle clutched in his hand and his eyes full of hate.

And Sirius.

Sirius was shorter than Lyall, but he was standing just a few inches from him nonetheless, yelling in his face. His hair was in a messy bun, strands falling in his face, and Remus gasped when he saw the split lip, blood trickling down Sirius’ chin. Even in this shitty situation and with everything going on around him, Remus thought that he was beautiful.

Then he cursed himself, focusing again.

“Sirius!”

The three men went quiet as they turned around, the tension in the room shifting on its edge to land on Remus, almost crushing him. He could feel their gazes and everything they carried, the hate, the anger, the lasciviousness. Remus blocked all of those, focusing solely on Sirius, making sure he was ok.

Remus was not ready for Sirius’ reaction when the boy took a good look at him though. Remus could only imagine what he looked like: sweaty, with blood on his jeans and maybe a swollen face. He watched as Sirius’ scowl got deeper and he spun around, shoving Lyall hard.

“What the fuck did you do to him?!”

Lyall staggered back but managed to stay up.

“It has nothing to do with you!”

Remus, who was already used to it, saw it coming before Sirius did. As Lyall threw his arm back, Remus’ feet moved on their own, and before he realized it he was standing between the two of them, looking right at Lyall’s surprised eyes as his fist connected with the side of Remus’ head.

The force of the impact threw him back, making him fall into Sirius’ arms. The warmth of the other boy’s hands against his sides seeped through his clothes, warming him up to the very core, and Remus glanced up. There was so much concern in Sirius’ eyes that it disarmed him; he was lost in the stormy grey, forgetting about everything else for a second. Remus desperately wanted to place a hand on Sirius’ cheek to reassure him, or maybe kiss his lip better…

“I know what you are!” Lyall’s screaming brought Remus back to the cold, hard reality. “You try to hide it, but everyone knows you’re a damned faggot! It’s your own fault if you got hit, protecting your nancy boyfriend like that!”

Remus paled, his thoughts turning cold as he felt Sirius’ whole body tense up behind him.

No. Please, no. Not now.

“He’s not my boyfriend, leave him out of this,” Remus said, trying to sound calm, but his voice was shaking. What was Sirius thinking? Remus didn’t have the courage to turn around and see, so he stepped out of his grasp instead.

The dark-haired man started laughing loudly then. Remus had almost forgotten he was even there, but his head snapped to him when he felt an icy hand close around his wrist, tugging him forward harshly.

“So it’s true? I’ve been wondering for a while, you know; thought I could teach you a thing or two,” Rick said, lust filling his voice. No, no, don’t think about his name. It doesn’t matter, he’s inconsequential, Remus tried telling himself.

The man pulled him closer, pressing his body against Remus’ back, inhaling the scent from his hair. One of the hands was still holding his wrist with bruising strength, but when the other slipped under his t-shirt, Remus felt paralyzed.

“What are you doing?” Lyall asked. He looked slightly less drunk now, but was stunned in place, his eyes wide. Remus looked up at him pleadingly.

“Nothing, we are just having some fun, right boy?” the man said in a mocking tone.

Lyall didn’t move and Remus wanted to scream at him to do something. Hell, he was screaming at his own body to do something, but the connection between his brain and his extremities was numb, like the rest of him.

“Let go of him,” a quiet voice said. Remus fixed his eyes on the source of it, and was met with pure, concentrated rage. He’d never seen such fury in Sirius’ eyes, and even the dark-haired man took a step back.

“You’ll stay out of it if you know what’s good for you, kid. Unless you want to take his place?”

The words hung in the air as they made their way into Remus’ brain, and once they sunk in, everything in Remus’ vision turned red. He was not going to let that asshole touch so much as a hair on Sirius's head. He brought his elbow up, digging it deep into the man’s stomach, who doubled over. Sirius rushed forward then and pushed the man with his shoulder, making him stumble backwards and crash into the small table.

Not wasting any time, Sirius grabbed Remus by the hand and tugged him gently but hurriedly to the door, making a quick exit before the man could recover. He only stopped for a second next to the still stunned form of Lyall, looking at him with revulsion.

“Hope would be ashamed of you,” he spat with a venomous glare. As Sirius dragged him outside, Remus looked back and was pretty sure he could see Lyall’s face crumble before he covered it with his hands.

Sirius didn’t stop until they were next to the car. He opened the passenger door for Remus and carefully helped him climb in, even buckling the seatbelt for him. Remus let his friend handle him; he felt like his mind was miles away, the events of the night had not settled in yet, but they were approaching him like an oncoming train.

They rode in silence. Sirius was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he kept stealing glances at Remus, but none of them said a word.

James, who'd been pacing by the front door, rushed down the steps when he saw them approaching through the long driveway to the estate. They weren't even completely out of the car before James threw his arms around Remus' neck.

"Oh god, oh thank fucking god. Are you guys ok?" 

He examined Remus' appearance, scowling at what he saw. When Sirius joined them near the entrance, Remus tried his best not to look him in the eye, which made James glance between the two of them, confused.

"My mum is going crazy. She's going to bombard you with questions as soon as you step in," he said, trying to get a grasp on the situation himself.

Remus shook his head quickly.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it. Not right now," he whispered.

James was about to argue, but a look from Sirius shut him up, so he nodded instead.

"Ok. Ok, I'll go talk to them," he said, and without any warning, he lunged forward again, hugging Remus tightly. "I'm so glad you're ok. You scared the living daylights out of me." 

It took Remus two seconds to figure out how to move his body again so he could hug James back just as tight. What had he done to deserve friends like this?

James squeezed him one last time before turning around and going into the house, leaving Remus and Sirius alone. Silence fell, broken only by the chirping of the crickets in the big garden that surrounded the house from all sides, and the faint sound of the sea a few miles away. 

When Sirius extended a hand towards him, Remus couldn't help but flinch back. He felt bad instantly as he finally looked up at Sirius, surprised by his own reaction, and saw how Sirius stopped his hand mid-air with a pained expression on his face.

Remus wanted to explain, but what could he say? That even though his brain felt muddled, he couldn’t stop thinking about every time Lyall and his friends had beaten him up?

He didn’t need to say anything though, ‘cause Sirius’ face softened like he understood exactly what Remus was thinking. Not taking his eyes away from Remus’, Sirius extended his hand again, deliberately slow, and held it between them as an offering. He was giving Remus a choice. He didn’t move a muscle until Remus tentatively laced their fingers together, and then Sirius smiled softly, tugging at his hand gently to lead him inside.

Sirius led him up to the first floor, ignoring the hushed voices coming from the kitchen, which Remus was grateful for. He didn’t have the strength to face Mrs and Mr Potter right now.

He didn’t realize Sirius was not taking him to the guest room until he dragged Remus into his own bedroom, closing the door behind them.

As Sirius finally let go of his hand to drop Remus’ bag on the bed, and Remus realized that he was actually there, that he was safe, the numbness in his body receded and the weight of everything crashed into him, as if the train had finally run him over. The events of the night, the months of abuse, the fact that Sirius of all people had seen it, that Sirius knew. Oh God, Sirius knew the truth, he knew everything! 

It was impossible for Remus to keep himself together any longer.

He slumped on the floor with his back against the bed, hugging his legs. When it became obvious that he would not be able to reign in the tears, he buried his face in his knees, as the sobs quietly shook him. He was sure Sirius would hate him now, and there was no way that Remus could recover from that.

Just a little longer, he thought, for only a few minutes more he wanted to pretend like none of this had happened and that he could have his friends for a bit more. That he could survive this. He hugged himself tighter, trying to keep his pieces together.

“Remus.”

Remus tensed up, but didn’t move. Not yet, please, not yet. I’m not ready.

Warm hands rested lightly on his wrists, kindly prying his arms apart to undo his curled up position.

“Re, look at me,” Sirius whispered.

Reluctantly, Remus slowly raised his head. 

“How long has this been going on?” he asked in a quiet but steely voice. Remus wasn’t sure anymore if the anger was directed at him or not, he had never seen Sirius like this. He turned his head to the side, letting his gaze fall on the floor.

“A while,” he replied quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius almost yelled, and the pain in his voice startled Remus into looking at him again.

“I..I didn’t want you to pity me. I didn’t want you to see that side of me,” he said with furrowed eyebrows.

“Remus I’m your best friend! I would have helped you!”

“And what could you have done, Sirius? I have nowhere to go!” Remus replied in the same heated tone. Anxiety gripped him again as he understood that he eventually would have to go back there, to that nightmare. Standing up, he started pacing up and down the room, the movement keeping him sane and functioning. “He’s gonna kill me when I go back,” Remus muttered more to himself than anything else.

“You are not going back there,” Sirius said in a hard voice, standing up as well. Remus stopped his pacing to huff a humorless laugh, staring at his feet.

“It’s not like I have a choice, Sirius. At some point, I’m gonna have to-”

“No. I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think you have to do. You are not going back to that house. And if you think Effie or any of us will let you anywhere near that man, then you are sorely mistaken. You’ll be staying here with us.”

Remus knew Mrs Potter cared for him and treated him just like she did Sirius, but there was no way he could impose on her like that. He didn’t feel like arguing about that now though, so he just stayed quiet. Both of them stood there, breathing heavily, Sirius with clenched fists and not taking his eyes off of him, while Remus wrung his hands nervously, still gazing at his feet.

It was a few long minutes before Sirius broke the silence again.

“Is it true?”

Remus knew instantly what Sirius was talking about, but he thought if he pretended not to hear, perhaps Sirius would drop it. He bit his lip, completely missing the way Sirius looked down at his mouth before going back up.

“What that prick said...is it true?” Sirius pressed.

When he didn’t answer again, the sound of steps filled the room before long fingers slipped under Remus’ chin with a care that he had never received before, lifting his head up until gold eyes were locked with silver ones.

Sirius searched his eyes, looking into his very soul, waiting for Remus to say something. Remus knew there was no point avoiding it, Sirius knew him far too well, and it was nearly impossible for Remus to deny him anything when he was staring at him with such an expectant look. He was so stupid when it came to Sirius.

“Yes,” Remus finally replied in a tiny whisper. Sirius’ fingers tensed the slightest bit, which threw Remus into a fit of nervous verbiage. Swallowing over the lump in his throat, he kept talking fast, “I understand if you feel uncomfortable or d-disgusted with me. Take your time, I...I just-”

“Remus, just shut up,” the tenderness in Sirius’ voice contrasted so much with his harsh words, that it left Remus feeling confused. With the rough fingertips still burning under his chin, Remus tilted his head to the side, trying to understand, but he couldn’t figure out the emotion swimming behind the molten silver of Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius hesitated, but then his hand slowly brushed Remus’ face, going up his jaw, until it was cupping his cheek.

“For a smart guy, you can be pretty clueless, you know?” Sirius said with a half smile.

“I...I’m not sure I follow,” Remus said with slightly wide eyes.

Sirius laughed quietly, shaking his head with fondness. He bent down to press their foreheads together, and Remus felt his breath hitch in his throat.

“How could I ever feel disgusted by you? Are you really that blind?”

Remus pulled away an inch with raised eyebrows. He was a bit dense regarding people’s feelings towards him, he knew that much as he always assumed the worst, but the way Sirius was acting...

“You...Are you saying that..?” Remus left the question unfinished; he wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Sirius was giving him a small, shy smile. Sirius Black, shy. Remus thought for sure that he must have been imagining things.

Brushing one of Remus’ curls behind his ear, Sirius struggled for a bit to find the words.

“Re, for the longest time I’ve been holding back. I...I wanted to tell you how I felt, but you were going through so much with your Mum, I just felt like I would be taking advantage when you weren’t doing so great. I didn’t want to add any more pressure into your life, I wanted to wait for the perfect time.”

He laughed bitterly.

“I know I’m not doing much better right now, but I just...I can’t let you sit there thinking that I would hate you for this Re, I...I fucking love you.”

Remus was speechless. All this time, he’d thought he was just a fool for falling for Sirius, for allowing himself to be so close to him when it hurt knowing he could never have him. Remus glanced down when he felt cool fingers lacing themselves with his, and then up to the boy in front of him.

There was so much love pouring out of Sirius that Remus thought he must have definitely been blind not to notice before.

Sirius stared into his eyes, silently asking a question. Remus nodded minutely, and not even a second later he felt soft lips brushing against his, slow and deep.

Remus' hands tangled into soft black locks, shivering at the idea that he was finally allowed to do it after spending so long wishing for it. Sirius’ own set to explore Remus’ body with a hunger that spoke volumes of Sirius’ restraint, caressing Remus back before settling on his hips.

When they broke apart, their breathing agitated, Remus hid his face in the crook of Sirius’ neck, dizzy with the feelings rushing through his body.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he mumbled against Sirius’ skin, eliciting a shiver from the other boy.

Sirius smiled softly, dropping kisses to Remus’ hair and temple. He slid his hands to the small of his back, bringing Remus closer to his chest.

“I will always find you, Moons.”

[missgarnet]

Baby Daddies Chapter 1

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Word count:2.6k

Genre: fluff, and a little bit of chaos

Summary:  So... no one tells you what to expect when you and your friends with benefits are about to have a child. (All plans are thrown out the window when your 7 closest friends find out they're going to become dads.)

Warnings: Jin is the ultimate mom friend, pregnancy, Jungshook, 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Link to ao3

In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have texted the guys that you were still sick as a way to avoid them. Especially when Jin was the biggest mom friend on earth and had insisted that they come to drop off some soup and make sure you were still alive. It wasn’t exactly a lie per se, but there was something you were definitely leaving out.

You slipped on a robe before answering the door, squinting at the bright lights in the hallway. “Y/N, no wonder you’ve been avoiding us. You look awful and your apartment is a wreck. When was the last time you cleaned, or opened the windows? That’s it you need fresh air and light,” Jin starts nagging as he pushes past you into your home.

The other boys trail behind him with various pots and tupperware containers that Jin had forced them to carry. They set them on the kitchen table as they start tidying the space around them. Your apartment wasn’t that messy, but you hadn’t been feeling well and the eight of you had a habit of taking care of each other when one of you was sick. It was a miracle you’d been able to have so much time to yourself before they insisted on taking care of you this time.

“Hey Y/N, why do you have these,” Namjoon asks holding up the box of pregnancy tests you left sitting out on the counter. “I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am, but it doesn’t always work so it’s good to have them just in case.”  You cursed under your breath, realizing that you had to tell them eventually.  “Joonie, you know how you said you wanted to be a dad a while back. Well… there’s like a one in seven chance that you’re going to be very soon”

“What do you mean one in seven?”

“I mean if you do the math, there’s seven of you guys, one of me, and now there’s a positive pregnancy test. I haven’t been with anyone else in years, and we’ve all been friends with benefits a little too often. And here we are.”

“So how are we going to figure this out?” Namjoon asks, trying his best to figure out how to handle the unusual situation the eight of you were currently facing.

Jungkook raised his hand, “We should do rock paper scissors to decide who gets to be dad.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jimin chimes in, “but is the winner or the loser responsible for all of this.”

The boys contemplate this for a moment as you sit there in shock, are they really about to decide who’s the father by rock paper scissors? Sure you’ve used it to make big decisions before, but this felt a little extreme by comparison. Somehow they’d decided to flip a coin to decide if having a kid with you was winning or losing. “Guys, I know this is a surprise but if you don’t want this you can just say so. I’m not going to force you to be there for anything just because we slept together.”

“It’s really not a surprise, Jin and the maknaes were making bets on how long it would take for you to tell us” Hobi interjected from his comfortable position on the couch.

“I took the test yesterday, how could you know before I did?”

Yoongi lifted his head from Hoseok’s lap, “Jungkook was worried because you kept feeling nauseous in the car every morning after breakfast. Taehyung was saying that your boobs felt bigger the last time you hooked up and then Jin pointed out that you’ve been gaining a lot of weight over the last few weeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were further along than you thought.”

“I don’t know if I should be insulted or feel flattered that you guys noticed all that.”

“Why not both?” Jimin suggested.

“You know what Jimin, that’s a great idea. I’m going to take it as a complement but also Jin might want to watch what he’s saying, especially since we both know who ate all the dumplings when I bought us dinner last week.”

The guys laughed as Jin began ranting about how he deserved more respect as the oldest, complaining about how you young people have no manners.

After a dinner where Seokjin had continued to sneak more and more food onto your plate, you were finally able to leave the table feeling as though you needed to be rolled into the other room.

“So what do we do now?” Namjoon asked, taking out a piece of paper to take notes.

“What do you mean, it’s friday night. We do the same thing every week.” Jungkook replied, oblivious to what Namjoon actually meant.

“First off, I don’t think that’s what they’re talking about,” you tried to explain.  “And I don’t think we’re going to be able to have our usual friday nights for a while.”

“Why not, we can still hang out the way we did before you got pregnant.”

“I know,” Namjoon added, “but some things are going to have to change because there’s parts of our routine that Y/N can’t really do anymore. Just think about what we normally do on friday nights.”

“We play video games, eat junk food unless Jin cooks, drink a beer and watch Yoongi cheat at monopoly.”

“And how does that end for you?”

“Making out on the couch, maybe sleeping with Y/N or one of you guys. And then there were a few times we all slept with each other.”

“Koo, I think what he’s trying to point out is that there’s some things I really can’t do right now.”

“So we can’t play mario kart anymore?” His sad little doe eyes were enough to melt anyone’s heart, and you found yourself falling for them time and time again. Of all the guys he was the hardest to say no to especially when he used that adorable pouty voice of his.

“Oh honey, of course we can.” You said as you took the corner of the couch, pulling Jungkook to sit with you. You tucked yourself between his arms as he pulled you on to his lap in a tight embrace.

You patted the spot next to you, waiting for one of the others to join you. What surprised you was how differently the guys were acting towards you even though they had just found out. Normally the eight of you would just fling yourselves onto the couch piling up into a group by literally throwing yourself onto one another. Instead they were being extra cautious as Jimin gently sank into the cushions next to you, taking your hand in his, he raised it to his lips pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

Tae was acting equally as strange most of the time he would be the first one to throw himself into the pile, tightly wrapping his arms around the nearest person. This time he was careful not to put any of his weight on you as he curled up with everyone, resting his head on Jungkook’s chest he looked up at you with the brightest of his boxy smiles.

“I have an appointment tomorrow, I guess if one or two of you want to go with-”

The guys immediately erupted into arguments of why they should be by your side.

“I’ve known her longer.”

“I got with her before you did”

“Just saying, I’d be the best parent here.”

“That’s enough, Y/N needs one of us who can be there for her during all of this. I could take some time off work, or I could be a stay at home parent! Then you could keep working and I could be the best dad.” Jin argued.

“No, you’re not taking time off work for this," you sighed. “We are going to go about things the way we normally act, without making any major changes to how we are now. If you guys want to argue about this or come up with crazy ideas then you can stay home. I’ll take Yoongi and Jungkook if they want to go but the rest of you are staying.”

“Y/N, you need someone there who’s going to listen to the doctors and take notes on how to help with everything. Why shouldn’t that be me?  I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Jin, you started a betting pool because you thought I was pregnant instead of just asking, and the rest of you did nothing to stop him. Honestly I’d be okay with taking Hoseok before any of you, but I don’t want to explain to the doctor why my emotional support person keeps fainting.”

The next morning the three of you packed into the car with Jungkook in the back and Yoongi in the driver's seat still bickering with Jin over the packed lunches he kept forcing into the car. It seemed fine when he handed you the first bag, but as he continued to pile tupperware into the car insisting that his future child needed all the nutrition they could get.

You were trying your best to stay calm and not start overthinking everything, but maybe reading WebMD in the waiting room wasn’t helping. As the three of you entered the office you couldn’t help but worry, you weren’t ready for all of this. Even Jungkook’s amusement at the various medical equipment and diagrams in the room wasn’t enough to distract you.

“Hey, what’s this?” Jungkook asks, pointing at one of the 3D models lining the shelf.

“Well, Jungkook when a man loves a woman very much-” Thankfully whatever response Yoongi had planned ended up being cut off when the doctor opened the door.

“Hi Y/N, how’s everything going today?” Dr. Nam asked as you mumbled your usual reply. “I see you brought someone with you, or I guess I should say sometwo?”

You could feel the heat rising to your face as you tried to explain your current situation “Yes, these are my… um... My friends?”

“Ah, so that’s what the kids are calling it these days.” The doctor couldn’t help but chuckle as she took in your flustered expressions, “There’s nothing wrong with having multiple partners, especially when it’s a healthy relationship with people you care about. Besides, you’ve said enough during our last visits to prepare me for all of them showing up one day. I must say I’m a little shocked that the one with the nice shoulders isn’t here.”

“I didn’t say that much about them”

Dr. Nam just hummed in reply as she went back to reading through your chart. “With the information you have here, I think it might be best if we go ahead and do an ultrasound. You’ve had quite a few missed periods, and while it might be from stress that makes it a little more difficult to figure out a due date. This at least gives us an idea of where we’re at, and when we can expect certain milestones.”

It seemed as though she could sense the discomfort and worry as the odd machine was wheeled forward. It didn’t help that Jungkook kept nervously glancing at it as if it were some kind of wild beast. The gel was colder than you had expected, and you couldn’t help but shift in discomfort as the doctor spread it across your lower abdomen. Without a word Yoongi reached out and took your hand in his, doing his best to comfort you.

“I’m going to turn the sound on, please keep in mind that we might not be able to hear a heartbeat just yet and that doesn’t mean anything is wrong.” She turned on the machine and slowly guided the sensor across your skin. The room fell silent for just a moment before you could hear the quick little heartbeat sounding out from the speaker. You're not sure which one of you started crying first but it was clear that none of you were leaving with dry eyes.

She turned the screen towards the three of you showing you the image you had been holding your breath for. “It’s a little difficult to hear, but if I move this a little further to the right we have a second heartbeat.”

“It has two hearts?” Jungkook yelled in a sudden panic.

“Of course not, two heartbeats means two babies,” your words slowed as the realization began to hit you. “It is two of them right? Not like a mutant baby with two hearts- because I’d be okay with that too.”

Dr. Nam shook her head at the two of you already jumping to the panicking phase she’s seen so many first time parents going through. “No, you are not having a mutant baby. You have two perfectly healthy babies on the way and based on their development and a couple measurements I would say that you’re around 10 weeks along, maybe a little more. Everything looks good, but if you have any questions or concerns please call me at any time.”

As the three of you headed out of the office, Yoongi was the one to accept the little care package that the nurses had prepared for you. Meanwhile you and Jungkook were trailing behind him like little ducklings, still in shock from finding out about the twins. You soon found yourself being packed in the backseat of the car with Jungkook as Yoongi drove around aimlessly.

“Put the phone down,” Yoongi called from the front seat. “The two of you already look traumatized, we don’t need to make it worse by going on WebMD again.”

“It’s not WebMD, I was on google and I found a parenting blog for twins.”

He sighed as he glanced back at you in the mirror, taking in the look on your face as you continued to scroll through the website. “Why do I feel like that’s even worse?”

“Because, I’ve been to one appointment and I’m already failing as a mother. There’s all these things that we’re supposed to be doing that I didn’t even know about. Like journaling, we’re supposed to be writing things down so we remember after the baby comes. And I’m starting prenatal vitamins way later than I should have. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until a couple days ago. One of the blog women knew the week of. It’s been ten weeks and I hardly noticed anything different,”

“That’s it,” he said as he pulled the car over. “You are not going to sit here putting yourself down when we both know it’s not your fault. There are more important things than a journal or whatever some random stranger is saying on a pregnancy blog. What’s really bothering you?”

“What if I’m not a good mom?”

“If you're going to keep saying that I will call Namjoon and make him join this conversation.”

“No,” you whined. “He’s going to start off all sweet and encouraging, and then he’ll end up going on another philosophical rant about the meaning of life.”

The two of you laughed at the idea, Namjoon tried his best to be supportive of all of you but he often got lost in his own thoughts. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“I’m just not ready for things to change so much. It’s only been a few days, everything is already so overwhelming, and it’s only going to get more complicated when all of them find out we’re having twins.”

“You don’t have to tell everyone yet. It’s okay if you want more time, I’m not going to say anything and Jungkook looks like he’s already been scared silent.”

[lemonjoonah]

Beastly Gods - Namjoon’s Tale

Pairings:  Hybrid!Namjoon x Reader x Hybrid!Taehyung Word Count: 3.5K Rating: M Genre: Hybrid AU, Thriller, Drama Warnings: Captivity, Manipulation, Swearing, Themes of Obsession and Ownership, Suicidal Thoughts and Discussions. No healthy relationships to be found here!

Summary: Taehyung offers up information regarding you, in order to quell Namjoon’s objections with his plan. But after misreading the situation, Namjoon’s inaction has allowed you to be trapped by what you fear most... Them. 

A/N: A short companion/sequel to Beastly Gods, so PLEASE make sure you read that story first! This tale will be told from Namjoon’s point of view, presenting you with the chance to see his side of things, while also giving you a bit of a buffer from the Little Dove’s current emotional state.

...

Namjoon watches from a safe distance as you leave your home, venturing off deeper into the forest to forage for your village’s needs. His desires tell him to follow you, but that’s not why he’s here, not today at least. With the coast now clear, he can approach your cabin with caution, and wait for the trickster of a god to show himself. He’s always hated this plan of Taehyung’s, feeding you false truths to take you from this place, but that couldn’t quell his curiosity when he was told that his brother had something important to show him. 

“I didn’t think you would come.” Taehyung’s voice reaches out as the door creaks open. His head poking out to survey the surroundings.

“Neither did I, but others were adamant.” 

He steps out from the safety of the dwelling towards Namjoon’s tree. An arm tucked behind his back. “I have something to exchange...” 

“I told you, I will not take her things to give you more time.” Taehyung may have convinced the others but Namjoon has no desire to dispose of his morals for a token that was not truly given by you.

“Fine, you don’t have to take it, but at least look at it.” He puts forward his hand to reveal a tattered novel, “I grabbed it from her shelf, it’s probably the most worn and read story in her collection. An interesting choice really, although I would be lying if I said it doesn’t make sense.”

Namjoon reaches down from the tree to take hold of the book offered to him. Growling with disgust upon reading the title, ‘Beauty and the Beast’. “Are you trying to imply this is what she wants? That she’s asking for this?” He snaps at Taehyung, his eyes narrowing, “Is this how you justify your lies?”

“Who’s the true villain in this story Namjoon? Who is it?”

It’s been so long since he’s read it but the evil is all too clear, “The pride and greed of mankind... but that does not negate the beast’s actions.” 

“I’m trying to say that there are worse things than us. Just like the beast we offer a different freedom. A freedom which she might find better suits her than this life. She might grow to care for us, she just needs a little push out the door.”

“This is no fairy tale Taehyung, in the end we will always remain beasts.”

“Better that it’s us and not those circling the woods. I know you’ve seen them Namjoon. They are looking for our weakness. They’re closing in, and if I can befriend her, so can they. We must do whatever it takes to keep her safe Namjoon, you know that to be the real truth.”

“Whatever it takes...” Namjoon mutters the mantra while clutching the book, rubbing his fingers over the distressed cover. Knowing whether or not he agrees with what is happening, fate will never be kind to you, all he can do is make it more bearable. “You said it’s her favourite?” 

“By far.” Taehyung smiles back to Namjoon.

Namjoon keeps the book in hand and looks to his wings. With a small wince he tugs out a choice feather and hands it back to Taehyung, “For her in return.”

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted to have it.”

...

He never should have listened to Taehyung. The reveal was too much, the look of terror etched upon your face is too agonizing to witness. It’s a painful scene made worse by your recoil when Namjoon attempts an approach. 

As Taehyung finally lets you go there’s a moment of hope when you claim your bag from the floor. But you then make a break for the balcony and out on to one of the tree limbs.  

You sit perched on the branches, as far away from the house as physically possible. Taehyung makes a small gesture to Jimin, indicating that he should be the one to follow you into the tree, but as his wings open, Namjoon pushes him back.

“She obviously wants a bit of distance. Can we at least give her that for now.”

Jimin looks back to Taehyung who gives in with a nod. 

Namjoon’s gain is short lived though, his mouth turns dry as you pull out the bouquet of feathers. Plucking each quill from the assortment one by one, you release them into the air, and watch as they float down to meet the snow covered ground. It’s difficult to say if it’s a method to taunt, or a way of showing you simply don’t care, but regardless of motive it still stings Namjoon’s pride to see his love disposed of in such a way. 

Even after all their gifts have been discarded, you continue to rest there in indifference, not acknowledging a single appeal from any of them.  It’s obvious you need space, but they can’t all wait forever. Taehyung starts to send a few of them away to keep watch over the forest. They need to survey the village's discovery of your disappearance. Making sure the residents come to the conclusion that you broke the agreement by leaving of your own accord. If there are any questionable thoughts regarding your absence the flock needs to know. 

Taehyung may be maintaining the facade of a victor, but it’s easy for Namjoon to see the cracks forming within. He watches as Taehyung becomes agitated, his wings twitching as the minutes continue to pass. Handling rebellion is one thing, but he doesn’t appear to do well with detachment. “I need to leave you in Namjoon’s care for a short while Little Dove, but I’ll return soon.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” You chime back.

A smirk crawls into Taehyung's face, your retort proving he still holds power over you.

Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing, how dare he choose to retreat now. “You can’t just leave her there Taehyung. You did this to her, you need to fix it.”  

Taehyung leans into Namjoon, meeting his eyes with confidence. “Why do you think I’m leaving? Right now she sees me as her biggest threat. If I step away she might let her guard down. I need you to talk to her and be an advocate on my behalf. ”

“What makes you think I’ll agree to that?” The anger within Namjoon continues to rise, his feathers ruffling out behind him.

“If you don’t, I’ll make sure you never get to see her again. If you choose to work alone Namjoon, that’s where you’ll end up.”  Taehyung whispers his final orders before taking to the sky, “I don’t expect her to fully accept me just yet, but at least convince her that she’ll be safe with us within the nest.” He’s obviously worried you might attempt something foolish out here, and for once Namjoon agrees with him.  

The wind starts to build bringing with it more chilling air and a few flakes of snow. Without the others to support him he grows nervous over ensuring your safety.   

“You should go inside Little Dove.”

“No.”

“It’s getting too cold for you out here.”

“I don’t care.”

“Very well.” Space be damned, if you are determined to put yourself at risk he will have to move in closer. Namjoon finally takes the leap and joins you on your branch, settling down a couple feet away from you.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You shift further out on the branch despite the fact that it now bows from your weight. 

“Since you won’t go inside I’m staying out here until you do.”

“I don’t want your concern, or your pity.” 

“I’m trying to keep you safe.” Namjoon’s frustration starts to show, this is not how he wanted your first conversation to go, but he has only himself and Taehyung to thank for that. “What would you have us do? Truly, I would like to know your answer. What would be the best scenario for you?” 

“Let me go.”

“You would be running off to your own death. Human rebellion is not seen kindly by other hybrids. Out there you’re a threat to be conquered or disposed of.”

“Is that what happened to the others? The ones who left?”

“Yes. We didn’t bother trying to keep them, we had no use for them. We approached and warned them before they left but each one choose to take the path that would soon result in their demise. We have no plans to make the same mistake with you.”  

“You don’t think I’m strong enough to survive on my own?”

He has to make his point. Keeping you safe at any cost. He inches closer, his wings unfurl  before swoops down upon you, capturing you in his arms tucking your back against his chest.   

“What the- Get off me!” 

You struggle in his arms but he holds fast, it’s hardly a stretch of his abilities to keep you locked in his grip. He pulls you back further from the edge not wanting the bough to break while you clash with him. “If you can get me to let go you can have your freedom. But I am trying to show that we surpass you greatly.” 

Launching your free hand at the nearest wing, you grab a fist full of feathers, threatening to pull them from their place. For a brief moment you hold a glimmer of hope in your eyes. You must think you have the upper-hand, but there’s no pain that Namjoon wouldn’t endure on your behalf. “Go ahead, take them. They’re yours.”

You release his quills in an instant. Though he would have preferred if you had gone through with your threat. Favouring your anger over your fear.

“They’ll always be yours,” He whispers lowering his head to your shoulder as you grow limp in his clutches. Your breathing deeps to a sob. 

Knowing he’s proved his point, he’s careful to ensure that you are steady on the large branch before finally releasing you. Your tearful eyes gazing down to the ground below. 

“Even we hybrids would struggle if we went our separate ways. Those who fly solo are extremely vulnerable. We may have disputes on a variety of aspects, but we’ve all agreed to stay together for our own survival.”

“You should have just left me in the forest then...” You wipe the back of your arm across your eyes, not letting a single tear fall down to the feathers below.

“You would have preferred the village over the beast?”

“How did you- the book,” Your sight flickers back to the house which contains your possessions. “You have my book don’t you?”

“I thought you would’ve preferred to escape the village just like the girl in the story... even if you must reside with the beast.”

“Her life was a fairy tale compared to mine, her village far more tolerable and the beast far less terrifying. That,” You point out to the open fields across from the forest, “That was my beast to tame. My prince, my happy end was true freedom.” Your cherishing gaze shifts to a glare as it returns to Namjoon, “You think yourself the beast? No, you and your brothers take a far worse role in the story. You resemble the god that forced the trials and sadness of life upon her, the one who put her in the village to begin with.”

Namjoon can’t help but feel struck down by your real feelings towards the book. “I’m sorry I misunderstood, but we can't change the situation. Trust me when I say that beast is far worse than the ones you’ll find here. This is the only freedom you can have.”

“Then I choose to spend it out here in the cold.”

Namjoon watches as you curl your head into your arms taking a crouched position to hide from both him and the falling snow. He folds out his wing above you, careful not to touch you again, but instead providing shelter from the elements.

You remain silent as he watches over. Not meeting his eyes though he focuses on yours. Jealousy overwhelms him with regards to the way you covet the sky, wishing more than anything you would look at him with the same desire. On top of the battle over your safety, Taehyung has done so much damage by lying to gain your trust. Namjoon tries to reason that he would have told you the truth, he wouldn’t have hidden his true role. But having you beside him now, he knows that he too would do anything to keep you safe and in their arms. Even if you struggle against their hold, it’s better this way, you’ll see. He plans to do everything within his power to help you accept this new life. 

You sit there together for another hour before your gaze starts to falter, closing your eyes to the world around you. Namjoon takes your arm worried that you might lose your balance in your half asleep state.

“Let go of me, I want to stay out here.” You murmur.

“If you do you’ll fall-”

“Then let me fall,” You plead. His chest tightens as you open your eyes with tears again, “Please Namjoon just let me fall.”

“I promise I can make this better, give me a chance. Let me at least try to undo some of the damage we’ve done.” This fear is temporary, your anger won’t last forever, but that fate is permanent. One he would never let you choose.

Namjoon has no choice but to take you back inside the house. He wraps your arms around his neck and lifts you against his chest. With little strength to fight him, you resort to conveying your fears.

“I don’t want to see him. I can’t stay here with him.”

“Then I’ll keep him away. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“Why should I believe you...”

You start to twist and turn in his arms when the bed comes into view. Pushing away as he sets you down on the mattress. Namjoon can read the panic in your face, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ll be safe in here, the skylight window is well beyond your reach leaving only one exit, the door which he locks behind him. 

It only takes a few seconds for you to start pounding on the door. “No! Namjoon let me out! Get me out of here!” 

He sits down in front of the door not leaving your side for a second. “This is the only refuge I can give you right now. If you don’t want to see him it’s the only work around.”

“Namjoon!” Your pleas become increasingly hard for him to resist. There’s a long pause before you make an offer, one he thought would never come from your lips. “You can take me away, you can give me what Taehyung promised. It would just be us, isn’t that what you want?” You are his Little Dove, learning to tempt with a new song. “All you have to do is let me out!”

It’s his greatest trial not to reach for the lock, but he’s soon released from your pull, when he spots two sets of black wings on the horizon. Yoongi and Taehyung have returned from their surveillance, thereby shackling you in place.

Yoongi lands first with news of the villagers. “Their search party found her footprints in the snow. They could see that she stepped over the threshold and into our territory.”

“No recourse then?” Namjoon asks with optimism. Minimizing the damage will be key, it’s doubtful you’ll take kindly to any acts against the village. 

“No,” Taehyung adds, “They’re too afraid after seeing that she only made it a couple feet before her tracks disappeared.” He then sets his sights on the bedroom door behind Namjoon, “Is she asleep?” 

Namjoon nods hoping the lie will grant you some peace. Taehyung reaches for the handle, Namjoon’s ready to stop him, but Yoongi manages it first with a few words. “You should let her get some rest.”

The new leader appears to take the thought into consideration. He pulls back his hand and steps away, though his gait is riddled with signs of impatience. It’s doubtful that he’ll leave you alone for long, prompting Namjoon to further guilt him into letting you be. 

“You shouldn’t go in there, the only reason she came in was with the promise that you would leave her alone.”

Taehyung pauses his step, a growl builds within his throat and he bares his teeth towards Namjoon, “I told you to advocate for me. Not make promises that prevent me from seeing her.”

Namjoon rises mirroring his stance and anger, “You’ve broken her, do you realize that? She is so lost that she wanted to fall from this tree. She actually considers that as a way to escape. This is your fault.”

“No, I saved her from that forest, from our enemies,” Taehyung counters.

“At what fucking cost? Your lies had too steep a price. She doesn’t trust any of us when she might have if she had been told the truth from the beginning.”

“So she could turn us away at the edge of the forest? No, we can deal with this. We can show her what the world has become for humans. Let her see that we really are the lesser of many evils.”

“If you want to gain her trust, you’re going about it backwards,” Namjoon explains. “We have to acknowledge the original sin, and what came about because of it.” 

Taehyung looks ready to throw him from this tree, instead he pushes Namjoon back against the door which he guards. “Don’t imply that you know her better. I’ve spent longer than you at her side, I know what sins she is capable of bearing.” His mouth twists into a sinister smile, “While we were gone, did she ask you to take her away? Did she express an interest in flying away with you?” Namjoon looks down at the floor not knowing how to respond. One of Taehyung’s hands reaches up to clutch his jaw, his talon like fingers digging in and forcing Namjoon to meet his eyes. “She did, didn’t she?” 

Before he can come to a response Taehyung’s attention is ripped away with the sudden entrance of another. Jungkook bursts through the open door still in flight, creating a wave of destruction, marked by broken furniture, as he makes an attempt to land.

Taehyung drops his hold on Namjoon demanding an explanation for the sudden disruption.“What the fuck Jungkook! Why couldn’t you just-”

“Seokjin and Hoseok...” Jungkook interrupts taking deep dragging breaths. Despite the cold beads of sweat can be found dripping down his face and neck. “They’ve caught an intruder... a pack member.”

Shit. The wolf-hybrids that have been toying with the boundary line. Namjoon cuts in with his own questions too impatient to wait for Taehyung to take the lead. “Did you see any others? Do we know how many we might be dealing with?” 

“They’re trying to get that information from him now.”

With his back now blocking out Namjoon, Taehyung steps in to assign his orders. It’s obvious he feels threatened, he’s picked a hell of a day to take leadership of the flock. “Jungkook, you’ll take me to where they’re holding him. Yoongi go find Jimin, we can’t have him alone out there. And you...” Taehyung turns round to meet Namjoon again as the others ready to leave. “We’ll finish our discussion later. I’ll give her rest of today to herself, you should know though, I plan to see my Little Dove tomorrow.” The smile is back on Taehyung’s lips, as if his point has been proven. He had gotten you out just in time. And even if Namjoon was tempted by your offer to leave the wolves have now added to the barrier blocking that escape.

As his brothers take flight again, he knows his thoughts should be out there with them and the looming threat, but his immediate concerns fall back to you. Taehyung knew you would try and lure him. It’s understandable that you would want to escape by any means necessary, temptation can be a powerful tool. You’re afraid, clinging to and using whatever might help keep you aloft. Nevertheless he can’t allow this to continue, for your safety and his.    

Free to step away from the door he sets his sights on a thin book which graces his shelf. The only salvation he can give now is something Taehyung did not, the truth, as a story that he too treasured in his youth. 

He slips the small doctrine through the gap under the door. It holds the teachings of how and why his race gained power, all while condemning yours to the forest. Inside you’ll find a written account of the revolution that was sparked by the love between a hybrid, and his human.

Namjoon whispers to you on the other side, hoping that you’ll listen, “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I need you to understand, I’ll do whatever it takes...”

...

The Beastly Tales will continue in the prequel: Conquering Fear 

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

P S Y C H (ch.1)

I hate definition intros but it has to be done: The word "PSYCH" is commonly used online and in conversation as a slang term to indicate that something that has just been said or typed was intended as a prank on the recipient or a joke.

Also short for Psychic

Next Chapter

Say what you want about organized religion, but you can’t deny that it is one of the most dangerous weapons on the planet. For centuries people have developed weapons and fought wars in the name of their beliefs. They’ve conquered lands and assimilated nations. Give the people superpowers and there’s no way people don’t die on a daily basis. Unless you give them lame ass powers and call them quirks. God’s funny like that. Most people get run of the mill things like the ability to draw small objects close to them. That way there’s a power imbalance in the world. It’s less chaos if only a select few get the good abilities. Less people question God’s authority that way. Those who get the awesome superpowers are seen as blessed, divine. Honored.  

[Mo.Name] [L.Name] was not blessed. She was liked by God at best. Being an empath, her quirk was not something to marvel at. If she worked hard to develop it, she could use her quirk offensively and defensively or even professionally but she would never be someone who was in charge of maintaining the world order. 

As she grew older she would become disillusioned with God and the blessed individuals that policed over the nations. They called themselves heroes, and a few people were but everything about hero society just didn’t sit well with her. She became a teacher instead and worked with kids with special needs. When they had trouble expressing themselves she could use her quirk to get a feel for what they needed in the moment or she could project enough calmness that they could pull themselves together and communicate without throwing a fit. 

She had a kid at a young age. 30 years old. Not too young and not too old. But by the time she was 35 she was a single mother. Her kid was the best. He didn’t cry too often and he learned how to speak very young. He soaked up information like a sponge and he didn’t develop a flashy quirk like the heroes she felt mild contempt for. Her baby was ignored by God.

Psych.

“No one is born equal. Yadda yadda yadda- How long has he been planning this monologue? No seriously it’s been playing in his head since the day (not really) we first met and I’m kind of bored of it now”

Izuku Midoriya was not a late bloomer. He never got his quirk, he has the extra toe joint, and he was bullied for being powerless. A Deku. [Name] [L.Name] WAS a late bloomer. He got teased a little, picked on. Sometimes people even gave him pitying looks. But it all ended  when he turned about six. There’s that old saying: two roads diverged in a yellow wood. Well one of those roads is for those scorned, and the other for those who who were touched by fire yet never burned. The sinner and the saint. What a traveller wouldn’t know is, that at some point, the roads converge. How else are they supposed to get to the same destination?

Wonder, outsiders..who is on which road? What makes the sinner a sinner and not a saint?

“Using your quirk in public is illegal”

“And minding your own business is free” [Name] bit back. What’s a little telekinesis gonna do? Cause mass destruction? Widespread panic? He just didn’t want to touch the handle on the door. Public spaces are very unsanitary... it’s not like his arms are too sore to do any sort of lifting. Nope. Not at all.

[Name] had unfortunately spent the entire weekend doing his least favorite activity. Physical exercise. Of course with a quirk like his he’d rarely ever need physical strength, but that’s exactly what everyone else would think. And [Name] is the type of kid that wants you to doubt him so he can feel the rush of proving you wrong. It’s a warped mindset but when no one ever expects anything from you, it’s kind of a thrill to see the surprised looks on their faces. A psychic with impressive physical strength would be the same as someone 5’6 (167.6 cm) dominating a sport made for tall people. Like basketball. Or volleyball.

Anyway, [Name] was in the sportswear store, a place he’d rather not be caught dead in, trying to get support for his wrists. Most of his quirk usage was through precise hand movements, a slight flick of the wrist could easily send someone flying. His hands, and by extension his wrists were very important. A punch thrown wrong during training could fracture that oh so important wrist, hence the whole idea of getting wrist wraps. 

For once [Name] was actually being proactive and he was very proud of himself for thinking of the idea in the first place. His eyes glowed golden as he reached his hand out to grab the wraps floating down from the top shelf. The UA exams were in about a week and a half and he had no idea what to expect. So he would train for everything they could throw at him. Even if it meant he had to go back to throwing punches at an oversized bag of sand.

[Name] used his telekinesis so often the drawback was nearly negligible. But if he did overuse it, the damage was a headache that could range from minor inconveniences like losing your chapstick, to a grenade going off in an enclosed space. The big ones weren’t usually the problem. The problem would be somewhere in the middle, because it would cause him to lose control of his telepathy, and once the headache combined with the voices of everyone in a 50 meter vicinity his brain would get seriously overwhelmed. Ultimately he’d be passed out on the ground within 5 minutes. 

For the first year and a half of middle school three times a week [Name] would have fighting training along with weight training, alternating days so that he’d have a break in between each session. This was all pretty much to catch up with his rapidly developing quirk. [Name]’s body wasn’t prepared for the use of his quirk. He grew to the age of 6 doing things normally until his untapped power literally exploded out of him. Talk about damage control. For quirk training he usually offered to help his neighbor who ran a junkyard by lifting cars and other heavy things telekinetically. An unofficial part of the training regime, [Name] would also read other people’s thoughts all day everyday. He said it was to get used to hearing others’ voices in his head. But that was only a half truth. [Name] was just extremely nosy, but he went about it in a casual way. He probably should apologize for the invasion of privacy but he loved every minute of it. Besides, listening to the spirits of others could be considered a god-honored practice.

On the day of the entrance exams [Name] regretted everything. He’d decided to become a hero for fun, less than two weeks prior (the whole reason he went to the sportswear store and started working out again), and by the grace of god he was regretting it. Not because he was nervous he’d fail, at least he wasn’t before he got there. It was just SO loud. He’d gotten better at controlling his quirk since he began using telepathy to eavesdrop but the last time he was in a room full of this many people was the middle school entrance ceremony (which he skipped halfway through because of a headache. By the way how could so many kids sitting in silence be so loud). It made sense, he was not used to having to deal with the noise of people muttering, thinking, PANICKING. And now that his quirk is stronger than what it was before everything felt ten times worse. [Name] leaned forward and tapped the green haired boy sitting in front of him muttering. Not only could he hear the boy’s thoughts going a mile a minute but his mouth was too. The kid whipped around eyes wide and shook nervously. [Name] was about to ask him to quiet down but got confused when he made sense of the kid’s thoughts. 

The kid was obviously a fanboy muttering about Present Mic who was getting on [Name]’s nerves a little with his exorbitant amount of energy. Before [Name] could say anything the ash-blonde near the fanboy spoke up.

“He’s probably telling you to shaddup”

The green haired boy opened his mouth to apologize and then realized he would be making more noise and quickly shut it before nodding profusely. [Name] was tired of referring to them by their hair colors and may have invaded the fanboy’s head for some background information on the two and got more than he bargained for. The fanboy whose name was apparently Izuku, was not only sitting next to Bakugou, his childhood bully, but just this morning he had gained an immense amount of power, officially becoming All Might’s successor. Oh look, two of them would be taking the exam in the same area. Things at UA were gonna get interesting.