#but past midnight brain is not thinking or expressing it clearly

[friendlyneighbourhoodelf]

thinking about padmé and gender. femininity is a performance and she’s winning

[somerandomdudelmao]

I hope this kills you and makes your day at the exact same time. I'm winging this btw and it's all improv in mah brain so it might be longer than expected, idfk, we'll see.

Thanks so much for existing and giving us this comic in the first place now suffer-

-{###}-

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic. The holograhic screen lit up every surface within a 2-foot radius, the words big and bright against the darkened atmosphere. Beside himself, Mikey and Raph shivered on each side, looking anywhere but at Donnie's face. And even though Leo understood why they couldn't bare to look their brother in the eye right now, something deep inside of him still burned with annoyance. Because despite everything, it was still Donnie! They just couldn't see it yet!

Not like Leo could see very well past the hard, stable shell that his twin had built around himself. Not like he could tell how Donnie was really feeling. Not like his tireless efforts to reach out and help did anything noteworthy.

All it got him was...

"...Oh! And how could I forget the infirmary machinery as well!" Donnie continued, his voice raised in a professional manner that would make anyone else think he was just giving a regular presentation. "The infirmary duties will obviously be passed onto you, Leo, since aside from Casey, you're the most medically knowledgeable. Plus, I know you won't disappoint."

Of course, Leo wasn't anyone else. He could hear the manic cry for life and freedom and pain in his twin's voice, no matter how quiet. It was there, faint and far away, somewhere that not even Donnie could find it, but it was still there and it needed answering.

Donnie just kept refusing to look in the right direction.

---

It was well after midnight when Donnie pulled Leo aside for a chat about the affairs of taking on three positions at once. The leader of the resistance could barely piece together what Donnie was saying though, his words muffled by the bigger picture.

In the dead of night, as expected, Donnie's demeanor took a complete 180 shift, his expression barely masking the exhaustion and weakness he undoubtedly felt. His eyes were half-lidded and cloudy, a look that Leo's only ever seen thrice in those yellow and red irises. His shoulders, despite getting bonier and bonier by the day, were slouched in a lazy way that made the soft-shell look like a corpse. The purple hoodie he so much adored nearly reached his knees, the lost fat and muscle making the article of clothing seem bigger than it actually was.

But one of the worst aspects about Donnie's appearance didn't have anything to do with any signs of death or sickness. No... The thing that made Leo really want to throw up...?

Donatello was now shorter than Leonardo.

"C-come on, Donnie... Why would I need to learn any of this... Nerd... Stuff, if I already have you?"

A stupid question. Idiotic, dumb, foolish, stupid, demeaning, disgusting, stupid, gross, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupid-

"Riiiiiight... Anyway, you'll need to remove that panel right there to get to the inner-workings of..."

But even though it was a stupid question, Donnie would've usually gone out of his way to answer it.

Why wouldn't he answer?

---

Two weeks.

It had only been two weeks.

But it felt like a lifetime.

Donnie wasn't dead yet, thank whatever god that's still out there that he wasn't, but Leo still felt like he was. Donnie was literally just there, he was just right in front of him, talking about the schematics of something or other, running his mouth like he's been doing for the past few days. Nothing truly notable about Donnie's health had really changed, no weakening brain cells or crippling disabilities. The only things that had changed were Donnie's height again and his now inability to walk.

His inability to walk. Just two weeks ago he was bouncing off the walls and biting people's noses off.

However, despite all of the physical evidence that Donnie was very clearly still here and alive, Leo couldn't help but feel like a part of him was gone. Dead, deceased, whisked away by the winds of time... It was hard to explain, even for him, how something inside of him just kind of... Faded away.

The Death, as Leo pessimistically liked to call it, was a slow and agonizing process, beginning all the way back when Donnie first revealed his worsening condition and then continuing on until now. It began with just a little click, a little pinprick of emptiness and loss and HURT that Leo didn't know how to fix. Then that pinprick slowly grew into a scab, then a paper cut, then a scratch, then a hole, and then finally evolved to a gaping wound that would take years to fix. It was just this... This agonizing feeling of emptiness and loneliness that Leo hadn't even felt when Raph first died. (Haha, funny. He's already died twice by now. Hilarious.) And no matter how hard Leo tried to heal it with potions and bandages and medicine and melatonin, it never went away.

Not even when Donnie stood directly in front of him.

And isn't that just hilarious? Isn't that great? Isn't that just Splendid? Isn't that just the coolest Revelation That LEO'S EVER FELT?? ISN'T THAT SO INTERESTING????

Isn't it funny?

---

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic.

He watched the ghost wave goodbye with a dramatic flair and a little giddiness in his step, the small soft-shell turtle barely able to show his hand from inside the giant sleeve of his favorite hoodie.

Leonardo waved back, a sad, forced smile and a train track of dried tears gracing his face.

Red enveloped Leo's vision one final time, and soon enough...

The half of himself that somehow still remained...

Faded away.

-{###}-

Haha get Disaster Twin'd idiot-

DLFNRJRIFJJTG3OFOFJEVDKDOSGDEKEBSIFJEIBDJDJDNFBFKFBFKRBRJRJRJRJD

I mean. Thank you. This is amazing and I love it with all my heart💜💙

[icallhimjoey]

bestie *grabs you by the face and makes you listen to me* i am obsessed already! there isn't going to be a day where you don't know how to captivate me with your words, it's not fair! so... we're in a wedding dress and we've passed out and joe is wearing the unseen but already infamous olive green vintage suit... now what???

excellent question! here we go (smallest teeny tiny little tw: mention of the thought of someone committing suicide) Wordcount: 2.9K

---

Between Floors and Feelings

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe wasn’t exactly sure how this worked, but being put into a position where he had to take charge, where there didn't seem to be any other choice but to take charge, made it really easy to actually do just that. He took charge.

He just... did it. Went with it. Felt he was doing an okay job at managing it, too.

Sure, he was stuck in a tube station lift after midnight with a pretty girl who had panicked, had seemed to entirely forget how to breathe properly and had made herself pass out, but... he felt like he’d been in worse spots.

At least he knew for certain where you were. Had eyes on you. Could see and would know that you didn't... you know, make silly permanent decisions to what likely were temporary problems.

Because all problems were ultimately temporary, weren't they? Joe believed so, at least.

You’d only been out for a few seconds, hadn't gotten hurt in the process, and from his crouched position next to you, Joe had tried to speak to the lady on the other side of the intercom.

That didn’t work. She asked again if their services were needed, clearly not hearing any of what Joe was trying to tell her.

“Hang on!” Joe shouted over his shoulder towards the corner of the lift, and it made you wince at the sudden loud noise.

Waking up after involuntarily blacking out was awful. Disorienting, unsettling and confusing. Embarrassing too. It also took you a second to fully understand where you were and what had happened, and nothing really clicked into place until the strange man that hovered above you shouted.

Pounding heartbeat.

Lingering headache.

So drained.

“Here,” Joe capped the water bottle he was holding, and placed it down where you could see it. “Can you do one thing for me?”

You tried to sit up, tried to engage your muscles to help you move your head up from the floor.

“Two things!” Joe held up both hands, universal sign for stop. It made you lay back down and relax the muscles of your neck. “Two things, can you do two things for me?”

You groaned, knowing it was important to take things slowly, but you couldn’t feel anything down past your knees and as you told your brain to tell your toes to wiggle inside your shoes, you weren’t sure if anything was even happening down there.

“Don’t move,” Joe counted on a finger held over your face so you could see. “And focus on breathing, okay?”

You felt shaky and your face felt cold – wet – and you lifted hands to touch, to wipe, but your arms were too weak and moving them became just a weird trembling hover of clammy palms over white fabric.

Joe saw, took hold of them both and squeezed.

My God, those were possibly the sweetest most expressive eyes you had ever looked into. This guy looked at you like he'd known you all his life, like he knew exactly what had happened to you earlier that evening, like he could feel everything you were feeling right now.

And it helped.

“Just focus on breathing, nothing else. S’all you’ve got to do,”

Behind him, the static of the intercom died, and Joe muttered, “Oh, fuck,” before quickly getting up and moving towards it, pressing the emergency button once again.

“Inhale,” Joe said, bent with an ear close to the speaker, but eyes on you. One of his arms was stuck out to you, which didn't do anything, but it was nice anyway.

You decided that having just one job to do was actually... sort of nice.

You didn’t need to think of anything else for a second. Didn’t need to think about how the entire night had unfolded. How you’d seen you boyfriend – ex, oh my God, ex-boyfriend now, Jesus Christ. How you’d seen him excuse himself to go to the toilets, but then had seen him walk in the opposite direction.

You couldn’t believe you’d actually seen it.

With your own two eyeballs.

“Exhale,” Joe said and demonstrated an excruciatingly slow escape of his breath through his mouth.

“Keep going, take a minute, all right?”

Focussed. Eyes on the weird ceiling light boxes of the lift. Inhale. You could stay focussed. Just one job. One small task. Exhale. You could do this.

Slowly, you noticed that you could actually feel your feet fine. That your headache wasn't that prominent. Just a background sort of thing, probably because you were slightly dehydrated from the crying, and you listened to the intercom lady talk to Joe.

“Emergency services, how can I assist you?”

“Yes, hello!” Joe sounded unusually upbeat seeing the current situation you found yourselves in. “I am– we are stuck in a lift,” Joe waited a second, hoped maybe some form of acknowledgement would come through. However, it stayed silent, so he continued, “It's just me and one other person in one of the Covent Garden tube station lifts, and–”

Joe got cut off right in the middle of his sentence.

“Hello, emergency services. You have pressed the emergency button in one of our lifts, are you in need of any help?”

Joe stared and blinked at the little holes that formed a larger circle.

“Yea, we're stuck,” you tasted a tinge of annoyance in Joe's tone. “The lift stopped moving and the doors–”

“Hello?”

“Hello?!”

Joe looked at you questioningly disturbed, as if to say, am I crazy? What the fuck's happening?

Then the static of the intercom stopped again. Like they'd hung up on you.

“I think it's broken,” you said, voice way too small for your own liking.

Joe tried again, pressed the emergency button, waited for the static to come on, but the same thing happened. A voice asked if you needed assistance, if you needed any help, but it seemed like the microphone on your end wasn't working properly. They weren't receiving any of what you were saying. Of what Joe was trying to articulate slowly, to enunciate distinctly, and he grew more and more irritated each time he had to repeat himself.

Cool time to feel the urgency within your body that came from your bladder that needed emptying.

You needed to piss badly.

Joe pressed the emergency button again. And then again. Checked his own phone to be presented with the difficult truth that he also did not have any service underground, and then, pressed the emergency button yet again.

What else was there to do? How else were you going to get out of there?

“At some point they must understand,” Joe explained, and you agreed. There was going to have to be a point you could reach by just pressing this button over and over for people on the other side to realise that this wasn't kids just pranking them, or an accidental press of a button. Maybe they could somehow see where you were, have someone locate you and get you out... you didn't know how emergency buttons in lifts worked.

You just laid there and listened to Joe pressing a button, to a lady asking the same urgent question that didn't get an answer she could hear until you could no longer feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.

Slowly, the acceptance that this was going to probably last for at least a little while settled within you.

You told your bladder to keep it together.

Shit.

It all made fucking sense, didn't it? Your worst-night-ever bingo card hadn't had "stuck in a lift" crossed off yet, so of course, this had to happen. Almost felt like it was written in the stars a little. Meant to be. One bad fuck up right after the other. Life really knew how to kick you right in the shins when you'd just been knocked over the head.

“I'm going to sit up now,” you announced, because you felt like you couldn't just move without letting him know. Not after the whole can you do two things for me.

Before you could even attempt to slowly pick yourself up off the floor, a tweed-cladded knee pressed into the tulle that felt like it engulfed you entirely, and two hands helped pull you up into a sitting position.

“Here, against the side,” Joe said, hands softly guiding, but persisting you moved to sit with your back leant against a side panel of the lift.

God.

You'd forgotten what it was like for someone to fret over you like this. All worried and distraught. All caring and shit. Attentive, almost doting. T'was cute.

Like, you were fine, but it was kind of nice. Kind of fed your self-pity a little. Made it go, yea, see?! we are sad and we do need taking care of.

“Are you all right?”

A careful second passed where you tried to really feel within your body if you were. And... you were, so you gave a small nod.

Then, the water bottle got kindly pressed into your hands again.

“I won't force you, I know I drank from that, but I promise, you will probably feel better if you just had sip,”

The faintest of little smiles appeared on your face when you finally took the bottle from Joe's hands, and you'd have taken hold of it much sooner had you known the facial expression it would bring about from him.

You still weren't going to take a sip though. Didn't want to fill up your bladder more. It was already painful enough as it was.

Joe got up and went to press the emergency button again.

A silence passed. Just static.

Joe pressed the button over and over, waited for the same question to be asked, waited for the static to stop, and then, he'd just press it again.

This was ridiculous.

Your gaze went from looking up at Joe down towards your hands in your lap. Water bottle immersed in bridal fabric.

You had seen your boyfriend make out with your boss whilst she was pulling off his tie.

You had pissed in her handbag.

You were stuck in a tube station lift with a faulty intercom and a handsome stranger.

Ridiculous.

You huffed a laugh that surprised you a little.

Fuck, this was so fucking ridiculous.

The huff turned into soft giggles, which turned into a louder chuckle, and when you looked back up to make eye-contact with Joe, you squeezed your eyes shut as big belly laughs escaped you.

“This is so ridiculous!” you laughed, and when you looked again, you saw Joe was biting back his laughter until it loudly escaped from his throat through his teeth. “What is even happening right now?!”

You felt delirious, overtaken with giggles that you couldn't stop because you were far too tired to work against them.

You laughed and laughed, drowning out the lady asking if you needed assistance. You had to wipe under your eyes where you found tears in the corners and you didn't mind wiping these away. These were good ones.

Joe ended up throwing his head back, shoulders slack from his giggles, then bending forward, nearly tumbling over which only made you laugh more. He leant against the wall opposite you, laughed and slowly slid down until his bum reached the floor and his trousers had ridden up, bright yellow socks now revealed to you.

You laughed until it slowly fizzled out into smaller giggles. Then a last huff, maybe two. Then silence again.

The atmosphere had gone from strangely tense to stupidly playful. This was nicer. Made you relax into yourself a little more.

“I'm sorry you had to deal with... that,” you said through a stupid smile, vaguely motioning with a heavy arm to the spot in front of you where you'd passed out a little earlier.

“Nah, don't worry about it,” Joe scrunched up his whole face as he shook his head a little. “I hope you didn't have urgent plans,” Joe made a face, tucked in chin, eyebrows raised high, followed by small nod with his eyes trained on the tulle of your skirt. Like a wedding, he meant jokingly.

You snorted. Made Joe laugh again.

“Because, we might be stuck in here for a while.”

It made you frown and groan.

“This is just my luck.”

“You um... you seem like you've had quite the evening,” Joe treaded lightly, sounding like he was just making conversation but was very clearly pointing out the elephant in the lift. The big, poofy, white one.

“This isn't,” you shook your head and winced at yourself. “This isn't what it looks like, sorry,”

You saw confusion strike, and you bit your lips into your mouth as you squinted, contemplating if you should tell him. If you did, it had to be the full story. Just going, “oh I'm not a bride, this isn't my wedding day” would only lead to more confusion, because that's what it looked like, wasn't it?

But lying felt worse.

Joe was right. You might be stuck in there for a little while.

So, you thought it over for maybe three seconds, then stuck out a hand for Joe to shake and you introduced yourself. Said your name, and Joe repeated it back to you.

“Joe,” he then said, reintroducing himself.

“I'm not a bride,” you followed up.

“Cool, neither am I,” Joe said and smirked. Pulled another giggle from you.

Shit.

“This is fancy dress,” you motioned both hands up and down your frame.

“So is this,” Joe did the same, copying your movements.

“No it isn't,” you laughed. That suit looked far too expensive to be fancy dress.

“No, it's not,” Joe agreed and laughed along.

Fuck, it felt good to laugh.

Flirty bastard.

Joe looked up towards the emergency button above him and reached a hand, pressing it again, not even bothering with waiting for the intercom to spring to life. He just needed to press it to press it. To let people know you were still stuck. While the intercom static filled the lift car once again, he turned back to you and continued the conversation.

“Bridezilla?” he questioned.

You slowly inhaled a deep breath. “Well... ex-wife, or so it turns out,”

Oof.

Joking about it felt wrong and made you itch all over. Too soon. Far too soon. Big nope.

Jesus, that nearly made you want to cry again.

Joe saw, read it in your face, and straightened his own.

“If it's of any consolation,” he started, then squeezed is eyes firmly shut as he said, “You look fantastic.”

It burst another laugh from your chest that immediately made you sit up straighter. “Stop, stop,” you pleaded. “I'm going to pee myself,”

“No!” Joe lurched forward, added “Sorry, sorry!” with a joyfully painful face so full of empathy, you didn't really know what to do with all the care they held for you.

You winced through half laughs with tensed shoulders until they died down, then made awkward eye-contact and passed Joe's water bottle back to him.

“Oh, yea,” Joe took it, held it up a little to drive home the point that he understood why you hadn't taken a sip yet.

Your eyes shot back up towards the emergency button. Joe saw, reached a hand up, pressed it once more and said, “They must come soon,”

He just said that to make sure you stayed calm, you understood. But you wanted to be realistic. Needed to at least speak the question that played on your mind into existence.

“What if they don't?”

It made Joe look at you a second before he turned his head and inspected all four corners of the lift.

“If they don't, we'll just... we'll move closer to here,” Joe pointed towards the corner he was closest to. Closest to the intercom. “And we'll use that corner to pee,”

Another snort laugh.

Another wince.

Another, “Sorry,” from Joe who couldn't help the pursed little smile on his face at the fact that he'd made you laugh again.

“They better fucking hurry,” you said mostly to yourself, and Joe leant forward, reached, and somehow knew exactly where to grab to get your knee through the layers of your skirt. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and said, “We'll be out of here in no time. You watch.”

He said it mostly to make sure panic wouldn't get a hold of you again.

Wished he was right so you wouldn't actually need to resort to assigning a certain corner of the box you were trapped in to be the bathroom.

Wished he was wrong because, strangely, this didn't actually seem so bad.

Joe’d been in worse spots. Way worse spots.

He was stuck in a tube station lift with a broken intercom after midnight with a pretty girl who had made herself pass out and who really needed the toilet, but... she laughed at his jokes, giggled at the faces he made and it was now all he wanted to do for the rest of the night.

Make her tear-stained face spill over with joy for however long he was granted the time to do so.

Just your luck? Just Joe's luck.

Yea.

This wasn't so bad.

Joe’d been in far worse spots.

---

The Taglisted: 

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(taglist currently full, sorry)

[stealingyourbones]

Hello, first I would like to greatly apologize for any spam of likes I have sent your way because my brain decided to obsess randomly with Dp x Dc crossovers for the past few days. I'm not even into Dc comics, and I only watch Danny Phantom when I randomly it exists and the fandom pulls me back into its clutches until I'm able to finally escape only to be pulled back in a few months later. I write this to you at 1:30 am with a bag of shittily made popcorn with my cat accompanying me because my mind has decided to fall in love with Danny being taken care of by the Bat family and it's mostly you're fault. I hope you're happy. I want to kiss you so bad you have no idea. I've come up with so many scenarios and have the balls to share them with you cause I really like the way you write and since I'm not a writer I have no idea what I'm doing but here I go:

Danny and Dani are basically travelling the world, Danny would call it running from the cops but that doesn't have as nice a ring to it. (Situation can be up to you, bad reaction from parents, was framed, anything for Danny and Dani on the run with Danny having protective older brother vibes)

They end up in Gotham for a few nights to rest easily and its snowing cause I said so and theyre starving at this point. Danny's like "We need to hide and need shelter" and Dani's like "Dude look over there at that creepy mansion :D" And they have no idea that its not only very much inhabited, but a bunch of rich people live there (And the Bat family but who cares about that part)

Danny is obviously on the fence cause 1. He doesn't have a good history with rich people so why their houses and 2. They dont know whats in there what if a bunch of weirdos are staying there but they decide they're cold and need a place to rest so they fly in and luckily land in the kitchen.

The lights are off and they're to focused on finding food to notice two figures standing in the middle of the kitchen just watching them.

Dani pulls out a box of the shittiest cereal you can think that shouldn't be counted as cereal all happy "Danny, they have my favorite cereal!" And poor Danny's horrified, "Have you even ever had cereal before?"

They start rambling and then someone turns on the light its Alfred he was in the middle of boiling midnight tea for him and Tim.

And there's just 2 GLOWING awkward teens FLOATING, one's holding Bruce's 'cereal' clearly not assesing the situation and the other has a horrified expression on their face, and looks like on the verge of passing out.

Tim is way to sleep deprived thinking they're hallucinations and sits down, also on the verge of passing out, while Alfred just keeps boiling his tea.

Danny is sweating trying to figure out how hes gonna get them out if this situation and Danis just, munching on dry crappy cereal.

Albert like the God he is just fucking opens the fridge, looks Dani in the eye and asks "Would you like some milk with that, my lady?" And thats all I got out of me FOR THAT SCENARIO.

The other is I fucking forgot I took 30 mins to write all this I forgot what else I had Im so sleep deprived OH FUCK I REMEMBER IT WAS ABOUT DRUGS

Ok so tw for drugs (weed):

Ok so Danny's a teen he's stupid right, knowing him in the show he'd be the kid to decline drugs but then take a hit when his crush says "i KnEw YoU wEreNt coOl" yknow? Delicious social pressure.

Well he's like pretty much adopted by the Wayne's at this point so he's just chilling on the couch about to light a joint and Jason being the noble man he is snatches it out of Danny's hand like "Nono, bad small child dont do drugs" half joking and smokes it instead.

Danny's now panicking, silently following Jason to make sure he's alright and not dead or reacting badly to it.

"Yeah why wouldn't I be fine?" And the high kicks in.

The thing is is that it was ghost weed. And Jason for once feels completely calm, he doesn't feel a single bit of the pit its silent.

He's crying and Danny's like "Omg are you ok???" Thinking he poisoned his family/lover/whatever the fuck they are.

And Jason's just "This is some real good shit" silently sobbing, not even thinking about where Danny got it or why its doing this he's just happy.

And you can turn this into extreme angst by making him codependent or a comedy by him making high jokes

Ok thats it again I'm so sorry I just really had to tell someone this

Homie you, me, behind the Bat Burger; We shall marry at dawn. Man, it makes me so happy that you enjoy the stuff I write that much I’m really proud that I could bring you that much joy! Be sure to give your kitty some pets for me :).

Oh also, “not a writer”?! You spin a web of lies. This is incredible!! Sure it’s rambly, but that’s because you’re writing in a way that’s unsure of yourself. (It’s also very much so how I write so I feel you homie.) I still feel like my writing is equivalent to a middle schooler's but I do my best to shake that off. I don’t write fics because I’m bad at dialogue, I’m workin on it though! You simply just have to try and believe in yourself. You’ll reread it later and go, “Damn, did I just write that?!” And feel proud of what you accomplished. You absolutely have unique and brilliant ideas so take a shot at writing some stuff! I’m sure you’ll do great! :D

Also bro your: "what was I talking about? oH YEAH DRUGS!" was so unexpected. it made me laugh so hard so thank you for that :)

———

Danny and Dani are fucking floored that this stoic-ass old British man just rolled with seeing the two. Dani's eyes light up as she accepts the milk from the British guy. Snatching the fancy glass milk container, she haphazardly pours the milk into her bowl causing bits of cereal to ricochet the milk out of the bowl and flying absolutely everywhere.

Tim just stands still and stares at the two very much so Not Human entities that are currently in his house. The tired vigilante rummages around in his pocket for his phone and takes a quick photo of the scene in front of him.

Tim double takes glancing between the kitchen and his phone. At first he assumed they were hallucinations because no figures were present in the photograph… the floating bowl of cereal and spoon says otherwise.

[laundrybiscuits]

(purify our misfit ways tag | AO3)

Sure enough, around midnight, Steve Harrington tumbles through Eddie’s open window.

“Shit,” he says, stumbling to his feet. “Why doesn’t that thing open any wider, christ. Think I ripped my sleeve.”

Eddie’s just glad he had the forethought to move his acoustic out of the way earlier in the evening. 

“Hey,” he says, setting down his book. “Keep it down, will you? Wayne’s usually a pretty heavy sleeper, but these ain’t his normal hours and he needs his rest.”

“Yeah, sure,” says Steve. “It’s nice. That you care about him like that.”

Eddie shrugs, uncomfortable. What’s he supposed to say? He’s mostly a shit excuse for a ward, so he tries to make up the difference where he can. 

In the lull, Steve seems to realize that he’s standing awkwardly in the middle of Eddie’s bedroom and that this is maybe the second time they’ve ever been alone together. It’s extremely obvious that he has not thought this through past the window thing. 

Eddie takes the opportunity to look Steve over, keeping his face carefully neutral. Steve’s hair’s kind of a wreck and yep, his sleeve is ripped; there are shadows under his eyes that look even more pronounced in the lamplight than they did earlier in the day. 

Yeah, Steve probably needs this just as much as Robin. 

“This is kinda weird, huh,” says Steve, pushing his hair back from his face. “I’m—just gonna go.”

“You can go if you want.” Eddie picks up his book again. Careful, careful. He adds, nonchalant as he can: “Or you can stick around and hang out for a while. If you want.” 

“Is that—” Steve starts. “Do you—”

Eddie risks glancing up. Steve’s got a complicated expression on that Eddie can’t quite read, but he’s not making any move to leave. He’s favoring his right side, where he got two bruised ribs that should’ve healed by now, and Eddie would bet good money that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Eddie sighs.

“Look, man, you could clearly use the sleep. It’s fine, I do this with Robin all the time. Just sit down for a minute and I’ll read to you or something.” 

“Oh,” says Steve. “Okay.” He sounds lost, like nobody’s ever offered to read him a bedtime story before; as he stumbles out of his shoes, Eddie flips back to the beginning of the book. 

“On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays it was Court Hand and Summulae Logicales, while the rest of the week it was the Organon, Repetition and Astrology,” he starts, making his voice as clear and smooth as possible. “The governess was always getting muddled with her astrolabe, and when she got specially muddled she would take it out of the Wart by rapping his knuckles. She did not rap Kay’s knuckles…”

It doesn’t take long for Steve to pass out. He starts out sitting awkwardly upright on the edge of the bed, but by the time the Wart meets a mysterious knight in the woods, Steve is curled around a pillow, breathing slow and even. 

Eddie sets the book on his nightstand and flicks off the bedside lamp. He’s not sure whether it’s too much to get Steve settled under the blanket, but the insulation in the trailer is total shit; even on a July night, Steve might get cold. 

Nothing like what you’re used to, huh? he thinks wryly. But Steve chose to leave his two-story house with fancy bedsheets in order to squeeze through the window of Eddie’s trailer and sleep in his bed, so the least Eddie can do is try to be hospitable. 

Steve doesn’t even stir when Eddie cautiously tugs the edge of the blanket out from under him, so Eddie takes a self-indulgent moment to arrange the blanket carefully around Steve’s shoulders and smooth back his hair. 

It’s so stupid to let himself have this, but he’s never had a knack for the smart choice. All his report cards say lacks discipline and struggles to control impulsive behavior, and they’re not wrong. He’s gotten a little better about it over the years, but sometimes it’s like his body’s reaching out for something before his brain can catch up to tap the brakes. It’s gotten him in trouble his whole damn life.

There’s something really wrong with you, Munson, he thinks at himself. There’s been something wrong with him for a long time, maybe forever. He’s learned to live around it, to lean hard into his fuckups, because it feels like the only way to keep stumbling through is to build up a kind of momentum. He’s okay, he can keep being okay, just as long as he doesn’t have to exist in the present; just as long as he can let his past propel him into the future.

People keep telling him he’s young, he’s got his life ahead of him. Wayne says it a lot. Teachers say it, usually in the context of telling him not to screw up. He knows, on some level, that it’s probably true—unless he goes out early in a fiery implosion, which is definitely a possibility—but it doesn’t feel that way.

Eddie doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up, his bed’s empty. He’s not too surprised about that, though it makes him ache a little bit in a childish way. 

He rolls out of bed and stretches. He can smell coffee, which is making his stomach sit up and beg, so he wanders out to the kitchen. 

“Hey,” says Steve. He’s wearing an Iron Maiden shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure was on the bedroom floor. “Wayne already left, so I—do you want some coffee?”

Eddie’s not remotely awake enough to handle this. He just stands there, gaping dumbly, as Steve pushes a mug into his hands. 

“Hey, so I was thinking,” Steve says. “We should—hang out. If you want.”

“Okay,” says Eddie slowly. “Sure. I don’t have any plans today. Let me call Robin, see what she’s—”

“No—I meant, just the two of us. Like, uh.” Steve pauses, running a hand through his hair. He steps a little closer. “Like a date.”

[gemglyph]

Ok, disclaimer… I’m not thrilled with these, but they’re mostly intact and my brain deciding to write parallels to “curse reveal goes badly” fics part 1

Wild finally stumbled into camp well after midnight, carrying Sky across his shoulders. He froze when the hero on watch called out, making everyone in the camp abandon their attempts to sleep. Wild backed up again as bedrolls were abandoned and they started to gather.

“Is he ok?”

“What took you so long?”

“What’s wrong?” Hyrule shoved his way past the older ones.

“How is he?”

“He’s hurt…but I don’t know if he can… handle your magic right now, Roolie.” There was something in his expression. Something he tried to imply with his words and they clearly missed the mark as Wind jumped in with.

“What do you mean, Wild. You said he was hurt…”

“He made me promise that I wouldn’t let any of you hurt him…” Wild’s statement cut through the chatter.

“What the—“ Legend swore, “ does he think we would?”

“Yes.” The dead look in Wild’s eyes made the affirmation all the worse. “That’s why he let himself… get lost. He was sure that… we were going to take our retribution on him and… he is still worried that… you all want him dead.” Wild knelt, slid Sky gingerly off his shoulders, then propped Sky up against his side so he could reach and scroll through the slate.

“He only let me carry him because he was literally too exhausted to resist. He’s feverish and nearly delirious between the malice swamp I found him trying to cross and… I don’t know what else…”

“Wild… breathe.” Twilight crouched, but stayed over an arm’s length away.

‘Help me please.’ Wild switched to sign. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

“If I swear I won’t hurt him, can I come and help?” Twilight knew his Cub was overwhelmed but…they had to start from something everyone could be ok with.

“I don’t know…” Wild looked to Sky, but there seemed to be no response.

“All right, we can keep our distance for now then… we can talk you through it so you keep your promise. Ok?” Wild nodded after a long several heartbeats.

“Have you been able to get any potions in him?”

“One…I’m out…and he was still in the malice swamp…” Several of the others exchanged looks at that, but two potions were produced and Twilight set them in the middle ground between Wild, Sky, and himself. Wild carefully slid the potions the remaining distance to them.

“And you mentioned a fever. Do you have a chilly elixir by chance?” Wild scrolled through his slate for a moment before nodding. “Ok. Potion and elixir…they’ll help for now.” Twilight was about to turn to someone else to ask when a bedroll was abruptly handed to him. “Thanks…” this was placed carefully in the gap the potions had been previously occupying. “We’ll just try to make him comfortable, ok?” Twilight kept up a string of assurances as Wild did his best to get both bottles into Sky and then wrapped him up in the bedroll. When Sky had been bundled in blankets and seemed to be settled using Wild’s leg as a pillow, Twilight let it fall silent for a moment. Wild was still overwhelmed, the constant worrying of his hands a giveaway.

“Think he’d tolerate Wolfie?” The instant response in Wild’s eyes was a plea. “Ok, I’ll see about tracking him down, and where was that malice swamp?”

“Northwest, about a mile. I got the eyes I could see…”

“I’ll still go check. Last thing is a stal-head flying around because there’s a mouth…” he also waved vaguely at his hawk mask as he gathered bow and sword. He turned to find several of the others watching anxiously from near them. Most of them were wearing expressions of mixed sadness and confusion. Time… looked horrified.

“Wars, I’m gonna track down Wolfie, I’ll send him if I find him and I’m going to make sure that swamp is dead… can you keep an eye on them while I’m gone?”

“Let me?” Time croaked out as Warriors was shaking off the shock enough to answer.

“I mean, you all can if you want, we’re not going anywhere at least for the night…

CURSE REVEAL GOES BADLY YEAH

Wild baby oh no D: You're doing your best hun

Sky is sick... Malice swamp??? WHAT WAS HE DOING THERE?? SKY BUDDY WHY

Yes Twi, "get" Wolfie.. Silly goose

AAAA the suspense. Everyone feeling bad. The distrust. Is he gonna be okay?? I gotta know. Can they patch things over or will Sky's paranoia and guilt get in the way... *shakes you gently*

I love this so much thank you for sharing the writing with me 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

[sweetfirebird]

I've been reading some omegaverse original fiction, and I would classify it... not as dystopia, because if you replaced "omegas" with several marginalized groups around the world, this shit is happening or has happened in the not very distant past, but definitely on the shittier end of the 'how the world views and treats omegas' of the omegaverse spectrum.

This was just coincidence. I wasn't seeking that trope out specifically, I've just been going through the original works tag on AO3 out of curiosity. Anyway.

And on this end of the scale, it's really not all that different from slavefic. With the same issues of authors writing that for varying reasons and generally not quite successfully pulling it off.

But like, it's fanfiction, so whatever.

Reading several of these longer, omegas are second class citizens/have no rights/have very limited rights stories back to back, however, is giving me weird feelings. I don't know why each author chose to create such universes (nor is it my business to know except as a reader when the story stops making sense or something). In some, there is clearly a rage they need to express. In some it's a kink with a story slapped loosely over it. In some... I don't think there was a greater intention other than a/b/o romancey tropes and then about halfway through, the author had some Realizations about the world they'd built and sort of abandoned the story (despite marking the story Complete btw. Rude.) And then the one I read last night. Which. Is a red hot spike in my brain right now.

Any reasons to write fic and imagine worlds like this are fine of course. I don't know the author's life and I don't need to know. If that author is on a journey, well all I really need is for them to have the skill to take me with them. Some have that, some don't, and if they don't, I just nope on outta there. And like, no judgment if your fantasy is a world with omegas forced to bond but some alpha cruel-but-kind alpha claims you etc. I am at the Devil's Sacrament with you.

But this story. This story. I rage quit in the middle of a sex scene last night just before midnight and couldn't sleep because this story made me so angry. And I don't.... I don't think it was entirely the subject matter as much as the author's inability to *maybe* tell the story they wanted. Maybe. Or maybe this was what they wanted, I don't know. But... I have never in all the rapey and dubcon and omegas are societal garbage and prisoners until they are bonded type stories... I have never experienced a story saying over and over again that biology is destiny, that you should just accept your biology, and your biology determines your place and if that means you are secondary then it's okay because *their* biology (the alphas) is designed to take care of you.

And yes yes yes this is fiction. And yes, maybe that moral changed by the end (though I saw no indications of this). And yes, maybe that is the author having a shit life and enjoying a fantasy world where what seems like horrible infuriating pointless suffering is actually going to be great some day with the right D. ...or K? Anyway. Maybe the author's kink isn't imagining being a horny omega in heat getting stuffed with multiple knots but is actually about obtaining complete control over another human being through manipulation and abuse and gaslighting but then pretending it's a love story and not even a "dark romance." (And also how you have to forgive anyone who has ever wronged you no matter what that wrong was because even being angry for a second is Bad and not suited to your biology. Some trad wifey Christian shit vibes.) Again. Whatever. I don't know. I don't need to know. I am sure as shit not going to bother the author about it.

But seriously I have never felt rage like that over a fucking omegaverse story. Shocked myself with it. Because I don't think I was *supposed* to be angry. The way it was written, I think I was supposed to be on the side of everyone else against this omega, who was repeatedly portrayed as foolish for wanting... a choice.

idk the author's issues but good job on making me feel something because I definitely did. Not, I think, what I was intended to feel, and probably on a level that the "happy" ending of the story would not have balanced out. But I did feel something. So... I guess that makes it art.

[sunset-a-story]

A Few Find the Words in One

I've been tagged in a few of these the past couple of days so I'm going to take a page out of @winterandwords book and combine them.

My words @lexiklecksi: crazy, flower, comfort, accusation, deprivation @words-after-midnight: dream, break, poor, light, yearn(ing) @words-after-midnight redux: lend, tooth, early, heavy, intense.

I'm not doing all of these words because that is too much but I did more than half

Crazy

Alex did his best not to give him a you’re-crazy look. “Okay, then. I’m a psychometrist." "Cool." Lee nodded so casually that it took Alex by surprise. This really was just their normal around here. Lee made a face. "You must hate toilets." He laughed, doing his best to keep the volume down. "You have no idea."

Poor

Adler ran his finger down the wall. The concrete falling away from the brick was a brilliant cobalt blue. Floor, ceiling, walls, pillars, everything that hadn’t crumbled away was blue. He’d bought the dilapidated, nearly two-hundred-year-old paint factory years ago, on the cheap, but hadn’t gotten around to tearing it down and replacing it with something useful. It was hard to, the more he thought about it, though it was clearly in the process of tearing itself down. The history of the building spoke to him. No one had painted these walls blue. The rising dust from grinding cobalt day after day and year after year had tinted everything it touched, including the poor work animals that powered the mill. Beauty as a side effect of function.

Tooth

Reeve’s brow furrowed, “Yeah, I’ll want to go in so I can facilitate something quieter that’s less likely to raise suspicion.” Gareth snorted. Reeve glared at him. “What.” Gareth shook his head and pursed his lips. “Nothing, I’ve just never heard scrambling someone’s brains referred to in such fancy language.” “You get how stupid it is to be sarcastic at a telepath about telepathy right?” “I thought you weren’t supposed to be reading my thoughts.” She rolled her eyes at Gareth. “Dude, we all know what you’re thinking. Three-toothed Dan who runs the gas station knows what you’re thinking.”

Dream

They made their way through the squares at the center of the city and headed on to the Eastern outskirts. The gleaming resorts and church spires slowly gave way to narrow gravel roads and graffiti. Tangles of power lines crisscrossed above them like dreamcatchers. The brightly painted houses were clustered together and on top of each other like a child’s building blocks. There were stone walls on every street in various stages of collapsing into rubble and bars on every window.

Accusation

Austin laughed, head thrown back. “How the mighty have fallen, huh?” He sniffed. “Aw, fuck.” Rushing back to the stove, Austin moved the smoking pan off the heat and stared at it. “Banana pancakes,” he said neutrally somewhere between an explanation and an accusation.

Break

[Through his telepathy] Reeve could feel Gareth’s mind racing with a violent sense of restraint that felt like pulling a plane out of the sky with twine. He wanted to cut his knuckles on Reeve’s eye sockets. Just start breaking bones until there was an expression on his face. “Out,” Gareth said aloud, breathing quickly. He tightened his grip. Tangled up in Gareth’s sensations Reeve could feel his own collarbone creak under a hand that wasn’t his.

Heavy

Temple cleared her throat and said, “Air resistance is the only thing preventing water molecules from falling through space at such high speeds that they’d kill everything in their wake. Just air. You can’t see it unless particles are suspended in it. Smoke is just a poof of dust that makes the invisible visible. And even once you see it, what you can’t see is just how heavy it is. Air weighs enough to scare the living daylights out of you. Resistance and invisible, imperceptible, impossibly heavy weight. That’s it. That’s the thing--the most important thing--that keeps us as organisms alive.” She looked around the bar. “Where the fuck is the waiter?”

I'm leaving this an open tag so if you're in the mood, look for these words in your WIP: echo, forgot, tea, coast, hush

[ms-awesome52]

SPOILERS FOR THE NEW SANDERS SIDES EPISODE!!!

I have reason to believe that the orange side isn't wrath like many of us have theorized. I think he may represent passion instead.

Now when I say passion I don't mean Thomas's passions since that role is Roman's. I mean the emotional drive definition of passion. Passion has been coming up more and more in recent episodes in addition to an increase in anger.

Anger is an emotion that stems from other emotions like fear, hurt, insecurity and passion. Now, while there have been outbursts of anger that have stemmed from all the emotions I listed above, quite a few of the angry outbursts lately have stemed from passion(you can skip these and still get the idea):

In learning new things about ourselves, the infamous paper ball incident started when Roman was saying that Logan was going overboard with ensuring that he was speaking clearly and Ro called his thoroughness stupid. Before that the two were arguing so emotions were already elevated and being called stupid was the final nail in the coffin. (Please note that I do not condone Logan reacting with violence in this situation. He did apologize and had an explanation, but that doesn't excuse the action) It is revealed later that Logan is that thorough to prevent distress due to misunderstanding and also to prevent Remus from using his words against him. Logan is passionate about being understood and being taken seriously (to quote, "I'M NOT A JOKE! At least I can't be seen as one.") Pretty much everything that happens this point in the episode directly contradicts these passions of his. After that last straw you can understand why Logan lashes out even if you don't think it was justified.

The entirety if Embarrassing Phases was Virgil was of expressing his anger with the other sides about reducing a large part of his life and identity as "just a phase" and also not being scared when he tries to scare them. It's obvious (to me at least) that Virgil is passionate about both staying true to your identity and also being able to do his job and scare the others (affectionately). I know I have fun occasionally scaring my family and friends so I wouldn't feel great if being scary was literally a part of my identity and my loved ones reduced it to a thing of the past.

Selfishness vs. Selflessness starts with a hello fresh promo, then Virgil walks in to give us anxiety as retaliation for Thomas dying his hair back to brown. We established that Virgil values staying true to yourself and he liked expressing himself using the purple hair.

In the same episode Virgil trys very hard to convince Thomas to send Deceit away. We don't know the history between Janus and Virgil (yet) but he was very passionate about removing Janus from the conversation.

In Selfish vs. Selflessness Redux, Thomas him is angry that he had to give up a major opportunity in an industry that he was passionate about.

In the newest episode at the 10:07 mark Patton says that "sometimes passion makes you act a little silly" and then it cuts to Logan thinking about that statement. Earlier in the episode Patton literally kicked a door open and made a video because Logan suggested donating Thomas's stuffed bear, Ben. I think this line was foreshadowing that the orange side, passion, is the one putting everyone on edge. But I guess we have to wait to see.

Idk if any of this made sense (I'm writing this at midnight so brain doesn't work the best)

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 488

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

here is chapter 12!!! hope you guys enjoy it hehe.

You got a new doormat, Jungkook realises.

He preferred the old one, purely because he remembered the two of you coming across the crocheted piece at a flea market sold by a lovely grandmother that was all smiles and kindness when she spoke to the two of you.

It allowed Jungkook to be a part of your home, the first step into the place that inflates his chest with pride knowing that such a small memory that the two of you shared could act as a conversation starter for people who came over; because truly, the doormat was beautiful.

It’s a plain one now. Far more boring than the array of colours that use to litter the floor, a simple circular mat in a plain shade of beige. Jungkook doesn’t want to know why you’ve opted to change it after a year, right when things have gone sour.

The mat isn’t the only thing that’s different. Even the way Jungkook lingers by your porch at almost midnight with his fist raised and flopping back to his side is different too. Usually, he’d drop you a text, pick at the key in the crevice of a corner you hid it at, or just knock on the door with obnoxious intent until you’re scowling while you greet him at the door.

This time Jungkook has his chest caved in, a heavy feeling in his stomach when he attempts to mull over the apology that rests in his throat. It’s long overdue, a proper one at least. Nothing like the one he gave you at your apartment a month or so back. That was him being selfish.

The words ‘can we talk’ never meant anything good, because if it was light-hearted and civil you’d let him know through a text. Especially when you made it clear that you needed, and purposefully took, time away from him. It felt shitty, having your friends distance themselves away from you because of your own mistakes.

But Jungkook couldn’t resent you, or Jimin, or Taehyung—or even Namjoon who opts for curt nods instead of the usual pat on the back. Because he knew that what he did was awful and that you and everyone had the right to be disappointed in him.

Maybe that was why he was so terrified because had anyone else said or done the same things he did to you—Jungkook would make sure that person would never see the light of day. So he’s terrified, even if he knows you won’t hold him against it—but he’s so scared that you’ve realised how flawed and disgusting Jungkook is and that you’d leave him.

He’s stalling. Prolonging his potential demise when he stands rooted into place with his leather jacket draping his shoulders feeling heavier than usual.

When Jungkook got the text, he was at the gym; blowing off steam. He saw it an hour late, and when he realised it was from you—his heart sped up while his stomach dropped, especially noticing the time it was sent.

He knew he had to act quickly; what if you were asleep? What if he knocked and you realised that you didn’t want to see him anymore?

But Jungkook realises that not talking to you, or not seeing you—is far worse than any of the scenarios he could conjure.

So he takes a deep breath, steadies his fist and knocks.

In a bated breath, he waits; and he’s nearly sweating even under the cool ventilation of the hallway of your apartment. He hears shuffling inside your house, and he feels his heart thump against his chest when he feels rather than anything else, your presence behind the door.

He wonders if you’re hesitating like he was, but he can’t think for too long because the door opens and he sees you.

You’re in your pyjamas, an endearing two-piece set he remembers Taehyung gifting you for your birthday last year. It suits you, highlights your personality because the colour is a calming turquoise, dark enough to feel cosy and bright enough to resemble your character.

Jungkook can only blink at you because it feels like ages since it was just the two of you, and he can’t bring himself to say anything, or even to greet you.

Your hand rests on your door, while you offer him a meek smile.

“I told you the door was open.” You say softly, stepping aside so he can enter.

Jungkook swallows, snapping out of it before he nods his head slowly. He walks into your apartment tentatively, and it feels so wrong. The awkwardness, the tense postures and the uneasiness that permeates the air. Things used to be so easy with the two of you, conversations flew and the two of you just … clicked.

“It didn’t feel right.” He settles for that as an answer, and he notes that you don’t deny it.

“You can leave your jacket on the coat hanger.” You tell him, and he has to push aside the way his heart drops at the distance you keep; prevalent in your voice.

He wants this to be over, the tiptoeing and the way that your walls are always up when he’s around. He just wants to apologise and hug you, hoping that you could forget what happened even if that kills him on the inside. He just wants to be around you, even if he can’t be with you.

But Jungkook pushes aside his desires; the culprit behind the entire mishap in the first place—and slips off his jacket, leaving it on the coat hanger as you mentioned. His t-shirt chafes, and he’s sweating for sure now. But he pretends like he isn’t a step away from a nervous meltdown.

“Have a seat,” You say, patting the spot across you on the couch.

It’s a distance away, and he assumes you do that on purpose. The last few times the two of you were close on a couch … well, things happened and now the two of you were the way you are.

Jungkook sits, resting his palms on his thighs stiffly like he was sitting for an interview. Your eyes drift to his hands, narrowing ever so slightly before you’re returning your gaze onto him.

“What happened to your cheek?”

Jungkook stutters for a second, brain pausing to process your question until his hand reaches up to touch said cheek. He remembers clearly now, and he almost forgets the reminder Jimin left him.

Your brows are furrowed, and he sees you shifting in your seat. Usually, you’d already have walked up to him and helped him with an injury; the past memories of him injuring himself during practices while you were always there to mend him up like you’ve always done resurface. His heart clenches.

“Practice,” Jungkook says quickly, and you raise an eyebrow. Your mouth opens, possibly to counter it, but it closes immediately after.

Jungkook releases the breath he was holding, relieved. He didn’t know what Jimin said to you after, or before it happened. But he knew that you definitely weren’t aware of the conversation Jimin had with him.

“You don’t have to be so stiff, Jungkook.” You frown, “It’s just me.”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts as he snaps his head to stare at you. You’ve managed to rest yourself on your couch, hands tucked under your thighs in an endearing habit you’ve always had.

It’s because it’s you, he’s nervous; Jungkook thinks.

Instead, he says—“Okay.”

He relaxes his posture to appease you, settling into the couch until he sees you giving yourself a soft enough nod of approval.

The atmosphere is almost reflective, the two of you clearly have things to say and to address, but he doesn’t know whether or not to start; to say something when he was the one that was invited over. Clearly, you had a plan—that was only ever why you did the things you did. You were meticulous with routine and order, and any disruption to that would mess with your agenda and you hated that.

The two of you sit in silence, unsure of what to say. Jungkook nibbles on his lips as a nervous habit, bouncing his thigh up and down while he waits for you to break the silence, to say something.

But at the same time, he’s afraid he won’t be able to accept what you tell him.

Jungkook is about to break first, but then you speak, so softly that he strains his ears to catch your voice.

“You hurt me.”

Your voice is weak and timid, and Jungkook’s eyes widen when you opt to start the conversation with that.

It feels like a blow to the chest, seeing you look down at your hands while you furrow your brows, unsure of yourself. Jungkook wants to reach out to you, to apologise, to hold you, to comfort you. But your words are a reminder that he can’t.

“I’m—”

“—sorry. Yeah, I know.” You say blankly, finally looking up at him with a vacant expression. It’s almost terrifying how … detached you made yourself seem to the conversation. And it sets bubbling anxiety in Jungkook’s stomach when he spots your expression.

He purses his lips, remaining quiet while he waits for you to continue.

“I didn’t come over so you’d apologise to me, Jungkook.” You whisper, looking at him with a more serious expression.

He blinks at you, taking in the way you just look … tired. Bothered. Frustrated. All three.

“I …” The words die on his lips, especially when you opt to look away, down on your thighs while you nibble on your lips.

“What you said to me that day was horrible.” You tell him, eyebrows furrowed. And he can tell that you’re trying your best to sound stern. Confrontation has never been your forte, he knew that; and you knew that. But the fact you acknowledged his words only makes him feel infinitely worse. “I never knew you would ever say something like that.” You end in a whisper.

Jungkook can only sit in silence, and it’s crazy how he can feel like an outsider in his own home when you mull over your next set of words.

“I want you to be honest with me, Jungkook.” You say softly, eyes peering up to stare into his.

His breath hitches, especially when he notices the determined expression that lingers when you continue to look at him.

He swallows, even if his heart is terrified that the truth will chase you away, “Yeah. Always.”

You blink, searching his face for any lies, he supposes. If you found one or saw the hesitation, you don’t comment on it. But Jungkook is still scared to have his cards on the table. He doesn’t know how you’d react, how you’d feel when you found out the truth.

A part of him wants to just apologise and move on, keeping you close enough for him to be selfish but a good distance away so he wouldn’t hurt you like that ever again.

But he doesn’t say anything, not yet.

“Why?” You ask in a hoarse whisper, “Why did you kiss me that night at your place?”

Jungkook freezes.

He remembered that night when his heart decided for him that it was enough. Having you right next to him but not with him. He remembers the way you looked so at home on his couch, in his shirt after you spilt hot chocolate on the both of you. The way you timidly asked for a blanket to share, and especially the way your cheeks flushed when he drew closer.

Jungkook feels vulnerable like you’re picking apart every single thought that lays in his mind. He hates it, that you can make him feel this way. You don’t push him, though; to answer. You’re patient when you look at him, eyes gentle.

“I—” He chokes, eyes darting everywhere but your own, “I just wondered what it felt like to kiss you.”

You frown, clearly displeased with his pathetic answer.

But you don’t call him out for it, “Okay …” You mumble, “Then why did you touch me after?”

The words leave your lips so easily, even if Jungkook winces. He’s seen you almost naked enough times, even if you’ve never gone further than him touching you intimately—it’s more than you’ve ever experienced and it should’ve made you flustered, not him. But Jungkook realises that you probably ran over the questions you asked about a hundred times before you laid it all out here for him to see.

Jungkook huffs, ears turning red.

“The mood just felt right.” He clips.

You glare at him when he offers another pathetic response.

“Jungkook.” You call out to him. He can’t bring himself to look at you, “You said to be honest with me.” Your voice is soft and gentle when you remind him.

Jungkook feels himself crumble on the inside, his face morphing into a pained expression when he rubs his hands all over his face.

If you’re aware of his internal meltdown, you don’t comment on it.

“I did a lot of thinking on my own.” You say, “But I don’t think that would’ve gotten me anywhere because all I do is overthink every possible situation.” You laugh softly, fiddling with your thumbs.

Jungkook furrows his brows at the sudden shift of the direction of the conversation.

“I spoke to Namjoon and Jennie.”

He freezes.

His heart drops because he almost forgets about Namjoon. He almost forgets the way he cradled your face so gently when your lips touched. He remembers how he felt, the way his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw his captain and you locking lips while you melted into his touch. He wondered if Namjoon tasted your hesitancy on your lips, not because it was him but because you were always calculated with anything that you did. A charm that drew Jungkook in, and apparently Namjoon as well.

But even if his heart aches, he hears the name of another person; and somehow this only makes his face pale further.

“You spoke to Jennie?” He sounds surprised, and he thinks he has the right to be. Especially when you once referred to her with so much vehemence he’s never seen in you.

“Coincidentally.” You nod. “She offered me a few perspectives I never knew of until we spoke.” You fiddle with your thumbs before offering a small smile to him, “She’s a really nice person.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to react, especially when you’re telling him that you and Jennie somehow spoke to each other and that you found her words … nice? It almost felt like the world was pulling a joke on Jungkook, and he was ultimately just confused.

“I … okay?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side with a furrow of his brows.

You sigh, “I don’t think I told you this the first time you apologised but …” You take a deep breath; a beat of silence passes when you look at him earnestly, “I forgive you.”

Jungkook’s breath that he was holding, releases in relief as his shoulders slump. A selfish part of him knew that you’d forgive him, only because you were incapable of seeing the bad in others. You were kind, understanding and empathetic. You always gave people chances when they didn’t deserve it and Jungkook was no different. But hearing you say it, after months of ruminating over it in his bed before he sleeps, Jungkook feels a lot better, albeit the ache in this chest.

“Not because you apologised to me but because my heart deserves to heal.” You inform him.

Jungkook purses his lips as he nods in understanding.

“I know that an apology will never take back what I said to you but … I really am sorry. I don’t know what took over me that day and I just—” his eyes flutter shut when he recalls the broken expression on your face, “—I regret it so much. I never wanted to hurt you.” He ends softly.

Jungkook shifts on his seat, reaching forward so that he could grab your hand. You jump at the sudden touch, but you relax when you realise it’s just him. Your skin is soft, and maybe it’s because he nearly forgot how it felt to have you close. He’s selfish, he’s always wanted you but he never knew how to ask.

“I guess.” You say softly, shrugging your shoulders. The response is there, though he doesn’t know what to make out of it. “But you said it for a reason, Jungkook. I just … I just want to know why.”

His hand freezes on top of yours, especially when you return the hold and unconsciously fiddle with his knuckles like you used to, tracing over the tattoos he has.

“I’m an asshole. That’s why.” He sighs, leaning his head forward as he misses your frown.

“I don’t think you are,” You say gently, squeezing his hand. And he hates that you’re still so kind to him. “I think you’re confused. But you also know why you did what you did. You just won’t tell me.”

Your accusation causes Jungkook to shoot his head up as he stares at you with wide eyes. You don’t waver, especially when your smile is still sincere and small as you offer him an encouraging look that he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“I really don’t have an excuse,” Jungkook frowns.

“I’m not looking for an excuse, Jungkook. I’m looking for a reason.” You remind him gently.

He purses his lips, eyes darting away until he feels your body shift and a warm touch cradle his jaw. His body freezes when he feels your gentle hand to cup his jaw and nudge it until he’s looking at you again. This time, your eyes are still calm and soft when you look at him, and your smile is still the same. Jungkook hears the thud of his heart in his ears, especially when you’re so close.

"No more games." You trace your hands gently across his jaw, and he looks so much younger. You suppose it's the lights of the room, two lights turned on with the rest off. Just the way he liked it—just as you remembered.

Jungkook states at the shelf in front of him when his jaw clenches. He can feel the conflict behind his gaze. It isn't frustration that peaks through, instead; it looks a lot like fear.

He finally breaks with a sigh, "No games." He affirms, hands tightening by his sides.

The position is getting uncomfortable but the ache in his chest has been present for months, so he thinks a few more minutes here with the promise of an answer would be nothing. But he was equally as terrified as he thought you were.

Jungkook briefly thinks of Namjoon when you wait patiently, deep in thought. Because Namjoon was nothing like him. He'd give you an answer by now. Unravelling the tangled yarn in his mind just so you could catch a piece of his thoughts.

No. Jungkook was a thinker that often never spoke. His ideas and visions trapped in the confinement of his brain and left for others to hypothesise. But you were patient, somehow your most redeeming and costly quality. It's funny—because he’s always said that you were exactly what he needed.

"Jungkook?" You whisper.

Jungkook hums, eyes slightly twitching when the tip of his ears turn red. It's difficult for him too. But he’s waited for far too long.

"You promised." You remind him gently.

Jungkook takes the leap when he realises that you weren't backing down.

"God." He huffs, falling back onto his couch while you observe him with sad eyes. He felt so ... scared. "I'm so in love with you that I can't even think straight when you're around me.”

Your hand freezes, and he doesn’t even feel terrified when it drops from his face. He can only stare at the ceiling after his words leave his lips. It’s out there. The selfish part of him won and he can’t ever take it back. He can’t find the courage to look at you, not when the silence is so loud and his heart rings behind his ears.

So he continues.

“I just wanted you.” He croaks. “It’s always been you and you looked so … at home when I kissed you the first time. I was selfish. I thought—” His eyes shut, as he takes a deep breath, “—I thought I could at least pretend that you were mine when I touched you. Like you were meant for me and no one else.”

He can’t stop, his heart pouring out everything he’s felt.

“And fuck. Every time you’d say we had to stop what was happening I felt like I was losing you. I just … I just wanted to be someone to you that wasn’t your best friend. Or some younger guy that you knew while growing up. I wanted you to see me as a man. Like someone, you could rely on or be with. Because that’s who you are to me. Someone I can rely on, someone I want to be with.”

He hears your breath hitch.

“Jungkook …” You murmur, “Then why … why did you kiss Jennie? Why were you with her if you already had me?” Your voice is sad, soft and meek when you ask the question Jungkook selfishly wants to avoid.

He sits up abruptly, nearly knocking your forehead with his when he grabs your shoulders as your eyes widen. His eyes are desperate when they peer into your own.

“You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. The words I said. The thing with Jennie.” He groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder as you hesitantly reach a hand to cradle the back of his head ever so gently. He automatically relaxes your touch enough to calm him. But he’s still frustrated, scared, and he doesn’t know what to make of your reaction; or lack thereof.

“Jungkook.” You call his name softly, reaching to hold his shoulders while you look for his eyes.

“Yeah?” He says emotionlessly, almost defeated when he peers at you.

You nibble on your lips, thinking over your words before you squeeze his shoulders.

“Why … why didn’t you say anything?” You ask softly, and if he wasn’t crazy—he swore he heard some sadness behind your voice.

He scoffs, and the reaction has your eyes widening.

“And then what? You don’t feel the same and I would’ve just … ruined everything. I know I did when I kissed you but at least I could pretend like it was … casual. Like it meant nothing to me but a fun time.” You wince at his words, and he sees it. He frowns when he realises the words he threw at you a while back the first time he’s seen you break. “It wasn’t. I just … I couldn’t handle you rejecting me. It … it’d hurt too much.”

It was a selfish part on his end, and only after the silence that passed does he look up to see your eyes already trained firmly on him—a wave of sadness that washes over your features.

“You should’ve spoken to me, Jungkook.” You whisper, hands reaching out to hold his cheeks. Jungkook almost huffs but you beat him to the indirection. “I wanted you too.”

Jungkook’s body stills, eyes widening when he peers into your eyes. You smile sadly at him, and he feels everything come crashing down all at once.

The months that the two of you went without talking to each other, the kisses you’ve shared, the way you feel under his arms, the way your back arches, the giggles you’d share with him. All of it becomes more than just a memory now, but it’s still painful. The way his silence caused all of the problems he thought he couldn’t solve.

It feels … sad.

“What?” He chokes.

You nod your head, holding his cheeks gently.

“I wanted you. But you didn’t choose me. You chose … yourself.” You say softly.

Jungkook frowns, “I just—I thought … how?”

You offer him a sad chuckle, “Jungkook, I don’t think you get it. I love you, I really do. The signs were there. You’re the only person I’d ever want this way. You’re the person I think about on a daily basis and I find myself looking for you even when you're not there. Even when you said the things you did, or whenever I saw you with Jennie. I still wanted you. And that’s why I needed time away.” You inform him seriously.

“So we could have—?”

“I don’t know if you really love me, Jungkook.” You say sadly, eyes darting away that makes him want to comfort you. “Maybe I’m familiar to you but I can’t believe you when you say you love me if you had Jennie and me under your hold when everything happened.” You say with a serious gaze.

“I …”

“I want to move on.” You confess, and he feels his heart drop. “… from this. I don’t know if I’ll stop loving you but that isn’t my goal. I want to be able to understand my sexuality because I was guilty when it first happened and then … you said the things you did—”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, cradling your cheeks in his head when he rests his forehead against your own. You’re so close, and your lips are only inches apart but it doesn’t seem right to close the distance. Not when the two of you were so confused.

“—I know. But it doesn’t matter. You allowed me to realise that I had some growing to do myself.” You smile, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

And Jungkook feels so much … younger. Like you were taking care of him when he found out his first rejection from a state team application when he was moping by himself. You drove all the way to see him, to comfort him and hold him close when you didn’t have to. Your touch has always been the same, but it’s Jungkook who was selfish.

You loved him.

It feels … surreal. That the two of you felt the same but because of fear, or whatever that stopped the both of you, he ended up hurting you and pushing you away. Jungkook feels his heart ache, the frustration that seeps through his bone is too much to handle.

“I—where does this leave us?” He wants to be with you. He does. But somehow, the timing doesn’t seem right.

His thoughts are only confirmed when you tell him, “I can’t be with you. It’s unfair to you and to me. I have things I need to sort out first and so do you. But I want you in my life, and that’s selfish for me to ask when I feel the way I do, but you were my best friend before anything else. I loved the boy who was my friend before I loved the man who I hoped to be my partner one day. “

"I want to be with you.” Jungkook declares, eyes firm.

You laugh, eyes still sullen, “You don’t know that Jungkook … you hurt me. You really did. Your words … I don’t resent you for it but I can’t forget it, not just yet. You did allow me to realise that maybe I should put myself out there more. Make new friends. You could be thinking that you do for … closure or whatever, but I don’t deserve that.” You inform him seriously.

“You’re not boring—or whatever the fuck I said. I was insecure and I took it out on you. You’re … you’re you and that’s more than enough.” He says softly.

“I may not be.” You shrug with a small smile, "But there’s still a semblance of truth to it that I can see, menace and vehemence aside. Objectively speaking, I’m quiet. I’m shy. You didn’t say that but you definitely implied it.”

Jungkook sighs, and you say it with no malice. Just stating an observation, and he’s still baffled at how … calm you were, especially when you were in his arms and he was in yours. It feels … better, but not enough.

“I want to be alone but together, just as friends. Until the both of us sort out … whatever that’s happening. I want to move on from this, to go back to how we were.”

Jungkook stays silent, as you smile up at him. He thinks you look so pretty. And there’s dread in his stomach when he thinks of how he fucked it all up, how things could’ve been so much easier if he’d just pushed aside his ego and his pride.

But you’re kind as always when you rub at his cheek.

“But thank you, regardless. Even if it hurt me, and even if you regret it—it allowed me to understand what I needed to do. It brought people like Yena and Namjoon into my life, and I’m so grateful for them.” You smile, and for the first time that night; it’s a sincere one. He sees the way your eyes glisten ever so slightly when you speak about them.

The mention of Namjoon’s name only sends a pang through his heart when he recalls the kiss. But he knows it’s unwarranted, especially when you had to deal with Jennie, which was exponentially worse.

“Do you … do you want to be with Namjoon?” Jungkook asks carefully.

You ponder for a moment, and it hurts Jungkook to think that you were considering his words. But he remains silent, because at least right now—he had you in his arms even if you weren’t his to hold.

“I can’t.” The choice of your words doesn’t get dismissed by him. He realises that you never denied it, but said you couldn’t be with him. Jungkook purses his lips, “It’s unfair to him. I shouldn’t have kissed him either but I did. The same way you should’ve either kissed Jennie or kissed me, not the both of us. But if you really do love me the way you say you do. I want this to happen not because I’m familiar but because you actually want this.”

“You’re more than just a familiar girl to me, _____.” He says softly, holding your cheeks.

You shrug with a small smile.

“Am I?” You sigh, holding his wrist while you stare at him. It feels right when you hold him. “I think we need time. I need time, and so do you.”

Jungkook wants to protest, to say that the two of you have waited so long and feel the same. But he knows it’s not that easy. Not when he’s still had bridges to reconcile and build back. He remembers Jimin, he remembers Taehyung, and he even remembers Namjoon.

Love is not all there is, and sometimes it’s not enough; not now at least.

So Jungkook keeps the words to himself, just once more until he can see a smile that isn’t rooted in hesitancy in your eyes.

But he allows himself to ask, “Can I … can I kiss you?”

He’s pushing his luck. But you’re blinking down at him, and somehow along the way you’ve made it onto his lap. It’s not sexual, nothing about it is. Jungkook just wants to hold you and feel you close.

You hesitate, and he sees you nibbling on your lips as you think. But after a few moments, you sigh, nodding your head so softly.

Jungkook allows himself to indulge at this moment, selfishly and wholly. He holds your face in his hand like it’s the last time he could ever feel it this way, and before he brings himself closer—his eyes trace over your features as they map them out in his mind to revisit a place he would call home.

And you’re stunning. Like you’ve always been. The dark circles under your eyes, the few moles on your face, the slope of your nose, the bumps on your cheek, the slightly chapped skin of your lips. He takes it all in because it’s you.

Then, as your breath hitches while his lips flirt with yours; he returns home.

Your lips are as soft and welcoming as he remembers, and he immediately melts into your hold. Your hands are pressed on his chest, and there’s no rush this time. It’s different. A kiss that leads nowhere but here.

Jungkook kisses you so gently that you feel yourself want, but you needed to think. You still needed time.

When the two of you disconnect, he’s surprised to find himself being the first person pulling away.

You smile.

“Will we be okay?” He murmurs, breath fanning over your lips and it’s a familiar question.

This time, you allow yourself to hope.

“Yeah,” You exhale, “I think we will be.”

[songbirdsingingthings]

Midnight Revelations - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Swearing (It’s Bakugou, so, that’s kinda a given)

Requested by @luluwiie​ :

Given your gift for writing, I'm honestly utterly surprised your box is not already full :o but this is my chance ! Kuhuhu * robbing hands *

May I request a Todoroki or Bakugo one shot (Just choose whether you feel more inspired with one, another or both) where they are just sharing some moments with reader, and like, they enjoy their time with Reader and when they come back to their dorms, alone in their bedroom, they just realize how much they care for Reader? Like, more than their close friend and partner in crimes ? Like, more in a pining way? I just love emotional epiphanies 😳❤

Tysm if you do this ! CANT WAIT TO READ YOU MORE ❤❤

- Luluv

A/N: YOU’RE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ❤❤❤. I had a lot of fun writing this one since Bakugou is such an interesting character, so I hope you enjoy!! (Also, the song “True Love” by P!NK was playing nonstop in my head while writing this.)

Word Count: 1.9K

If it was within his control, Katsuki Bakugou would be fast asleep in his own bed by now. It made sense to him - the sky was completely dark making the stars clearly visible and it was already past 10:30 p.m., so why on earth was he awake? The short and simplest answer yielded the same result; you. How you had wedged yourself in between him and his strict sleep schedule, Bakugou had no idea, so here he was, sat with a grimace on his face as you tried to work out the last math problem on the long homework sheet Ectoplasm had assigned.

“Wait, so when it’s a hyperbola, it’s a²- b² = c²?” You ask, glancing in between the blonde-haired boy sat next to you and the sheet full of conic section equations. Bakugou just looked at you with a mixture of a tired and dumbfounded expression.

“No, idiot, it’s a²+ b² = c² because the standard form uses subtraction. It’s the other way around for ellipses.” He explains gruffly, taking your mechanical pencil and writing down the equation roughly. However, due to the sheer force of his hand on the poor little pencil, the led snapped off. You laughed a little at the outburst that followed shortly after.

“Bakugou, don’t press so hard, the lead is thinner.” You say, taking the pencil from his hand gingerly. He simply scoffs in return.

“Yeah, well, normal pencils don’t do that. Get better ones next time.” He hurumphs, leaning back in his chair and letting his head hang off the back. He remains like this for a few minutes while you scribble down the rest of your equations, ultimately coming to a solution.

“Okay, I think I got it! Is it… (y+5)²/9 - (x - 4)²/25?” With a hesitant voice and a hopeful expression, you push the homework sheet in front of Bakugou to hopefully gain his approval. You wince as he scans your work carefully, raising his eyebrows on certain occasions. Finally, he sets the paper down and slides it back over to you. “Well?” You ask, a little exasperated.

“Yeah, that’s the correct answer.” With a sigh of relief you slumped back into your chair with a smile on your face. However, that only lasted for a few seconds. “Wait, then what the hell were those facial expressions when you were looking at it?” You ask, taking the math sheet and putting it in a folder that was then shoved into your school bag.

“Your handwriting is shit.” Is all Bakugou had to say as he stood up and stretched his arms out. You roll your eyes and glance at the clock.

“Damn, it’s already 11:15.” You murmur, letting one of your hands card through your hair, massaging your head and releasing the tension that was built up by doing several pages of pre-calc. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t need to stay this late to help me out, so I really appreciate it.” You say, expressing your gratitude to the blonde. Bakugou rubs his eyes before slinging his bag over his shoulder, letting his blazer stay unbuttoned and his tie loose around his neck. You had to admit, his somewhat disheveled look did look quite attractive on him, but if you told him that he would either never let you hear the end of it or get pissed off for commenting on his fashion. He already got enough of that from his parents, apparently. 

“Yeah, I didn’t, and now thanks to you I’m gonna be tired as hell in the morning.” He complains, opening the door to your dorm to exit.

“You know, a cold compress does wonders for eyebags.” You say, a mischievous grin on your face. He narrows his eyes and flips you off. “I enjoyed spending time with you too, Bakugou!” And with that, the door to your dorm was closed.

Katsuki felt like a zombie by the time he got to his own dorm. He didn’t even bother putting his school bag on his desk or arranging his shoes by the door like he usually does. Instead, he just let the brown shoulder bag slump onto the floor as he fumbled to get his shoes off. Why the hell had you made him stay for so long? He finished all of his homework hours before you did, and still, he had to remain stationed at that wooden low table as he had to keep himself busy while you plugged away at your own work. After about an hour, looking through his phone got incredibly boring so he moved on to looking around your room, taking in all of the things that made it up. Of course, he wasn’t doing this to try to get to know you more, he already knew all he needed to… right? But as his eyes raked over the photos and decor of your room, the more glimpses he got into your personal life, so he stopped immediately.

Bakugou did make an effort to change his clothes. Peeling his blazer from his arms and hanging it up haphazardly in his closet along with his white button up. He tugged on a random black shirt and swapped his uniform pants for pajama ones and finally, finally, clambered into his bed. And, although he tried hard to make his brain shut off and just let him enter a dreamless sleep, his mind began to wander. He blamed his delirious nature for letting his neurons take him from place to place, situation to situation, until they finally projected an image of you into his head. It was a simple display of you and a recent one, too. Just Y/N L/N, sat at the little wooden table with her head perched on one of her hands with a stupid mechanical pencil in her hand. Did her hair always kind of frame her face like that? He wondered, scrunching his closed eyes. It didn’t look as horrible today, he supposed. Bakugou let his eyes flutter open, only to see that his digital clock read a clear 12:04 a.m. in electric red. He sighed and let his gaze fall on the ceiling right above him. Why was he thinking of you this late in the evening? And, to his surprise, he realized that he felt much more at home in your dorm room than he did right now, in his own space.

“What the hell…” He muttered, turning on his bedside lamp. His room was shed in a soft light, illuminating only the nearest furniture and himself. If he wasn’t able to go asleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t let this time go to waste. Picking up the book on his shelf that he was most recently into, he flipped through the pages to find his place and started reading again. He would never admit it, but Pride and Prejudice was turning out to be a much better read than expected. Bakugou found the main heroine to be much more likeable than any others he had read about. Her charisma and wit satisfied him where other characters were lacking, and the way she refused to be phased by an arrogant and sometimes brash guy who pushed her buttons constantly… He let the book fall to the ground without so much of a care as realizations flooded his brain. You put up with him. Whenever he was acting rude or was teasing you without relent, you would just simply roll your eyes and fire back. He put up with you, too. All your unreasonable habits, like staying up way too late, he was still by your side. Why?

“I…” Katsuki forced himself to look into the mirror. He saw his reflection to be way out of the norm. His eyes were wide, his posture was perfect, and his cheeks were red. “I like her.” He let the words flow freely from his mouth. With one more glance to the clock by his bedside, he grabbed a hoodie and shoved his head through it while opening his door and heading straight to yours. He knew from all of the prior knowledge on you stored in his brain and the light that shown beneath your door that you were, in fact, still awake. With three soft knocks, your door swung open to reveal you. Clad in soft looking pajama shorts and a flimsy top, your hair was a mess and your eyes were drooping. Bakugou never thought you could look so beautiful.

“Bakugou, it’s way past your bedtime.” You quip, your voice mimicking a doting parent. Bakugou shoved his way past you into your room and began to lightly pace. Your once joking smile fell into a confused frown, your eyes starting to swim with concern. “Seriously, Katsuki, what’s up? You’ve never stayed up this late except for that one time I insisted you did because a once in a lifetime meteor shower was on full display. I mean, you complained about it of course, but I knew you actually liked it because your eyes-”

“Just, shut it!” The blonde finally says. You pull back slightly, surprised at his words. “You write your twos and sevens weird, some of your habits tend to be unproductive, and sometimes I just can not stand you, but I like you.” The two of you are silent for a moment before you take a step towards him.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask, your voice soft like velvet and your eyes twinkling. Despite all of his reservations, his hard exterior and the sneer he always wore melted.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You shook your head and took another step forward.

“Don’t answer it like you're confirming that I correctly solved a math problem. Answer it like you love me.” Bakugou’s cheeks flamed at your sudden confidence, but he took a step forward so that your bodies were almost touching.

“I love you Y/N.” And with that, a wide grin spread across your face. Your arms wrapped themselves around the blonde’s neck and you leaned into him, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. It was slow in pace but fierce in passion as he grew more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you closer so that you were flush against his chest. Breathless and red in the face, Bakugou finally pulls back to see your ecstatic face. “Oi, what’s with the face?” He says, flustered.

“Nothing,” you say, going into your bathroom with a little towelette. He raises his eyebrows. “I told you before, a cold compress works wonders for the inevitable eye bags that you will have in the morning, and this is the perfect size.” He huffs in amusement and plucks the towelette from your hands. “Plus, you’ll have to return it to me. It gives you another excuse to hang out with me.” Bakugou finally earns a little confidence and his trademarked smirk spreads across his face.

“I don’t need an excuse to hang out with you. You’ll need my help again on the homework.”

“Always the charmer,” you quip, walking with him so that he was standing in the hallway and you in the doorway. “See ya tomorrow,” you smile, pecking him on the lips.

“See ya, Y/N.” His blush was still prevalent, but his eyebrows narrowed and a scowl replaced the smirk. “And throw out those mechanical pencils, they’re absolute shit.”

“Anything for you, Lover!” You joke, closing the door. Lover, he thinks. He can get used to a nickname like that.

[4aloysius-porteu]

i am your ally || tsukishima kei.

pairing; tsukishima kei x f! reader

genre: oneshot, drama, flangst, a little comedy

word count: 5.6k

details: 3rd year Tsukishima, artist reader

warnings: reader going missing, verbal abuse, crushing of dreams, lots of sadness, heavy parental argument, everything that happens here hits home

synopsis: tsukishima didnt know what is the right thing to say after he heard of (y/n)’s situation, but the words that stumbled out from his mouth were a surprise, yet it blossomed to a meaningful talk that happens once in a blue moon.

(a/n): wrote in the middle of my depressing days to find a little comfort from this character that I love with all my heart. inspired by true situations irl; if you, my friend, is feeling down today, i hope reading this work of mine can help. i might make this into a full story if this got enough attention tho.

(Y/N) was nowhere to be found. 

It wasn't Tsukishima's habit to eavesdrop on other people's conversation, but he couldn't help but listen when he heard her name from her classmates. She was a consistent top student that will never neglect her studies, so it was unusual to know that she was absent today. He thought that maybe she got sick or she decided to go crazy and skip school. If it was the latter, he hoped that she knows what she's doing, because midterms are coming in 3 days, and he's not going to listen to her whines and begs to help her study for the tests.

And now he just happened to overhear that she was missing. 

He saw her parents walk out of the campus after talking to the vice-principal and to the teachers. Gossip filled the corridors and rooms. Tsukishima went back to his room, clearly annoyed with the unnecessary noise.

He listened to the lectures of each subject and continued to write down important points, but the thought of (Y/N) lingered in his head. What could've happened that led to her disappearance? Was she kidnapped? No, he just walked her home last night and she'll never leave her place past midnight. Kidnappers won't dare to make a move in daylight because of the town's high authority visibility. There's no way she'll be lost in an area she's very familiar with. 

She ran away from home. That is the only logical possibility he could come up with, but he couldn't think of an idea as to why. (Y/N), who loves to be cooped up in her room with music blaring in her earphones while drawing, left her home without a trace. Tsukishima was a little worried, but he won't let his face show whatever the hell he's feeling. 

His plays and blocks aren't exactly bad, but Yamaguchi could sense that Tsukishima was thinking of something other than the volleyball practice. He approached his friend who was resting on the floor, his long arms covering his curled up legs. 

"Tsukki, what's with that expression? Did you get a failing score in a quiz?" Yamaguchi started, in an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere. 

The blonde's eyes darted to him, "Like hell, I'm going to let that happen. What do you want?"

He shrugged, "Nothing, I just noticed that you were a little quieter and more passive today. Normally, you would've chewed the first years out with their simple blocking errors, but you didn't say a thing. You're scarier in their eyes when you're silent."

"I was tired. I'll only waste my voice pointing out something I did a million times." A sigh escaped his lips 

"Right..." Yamaguchi paused, "So, I assume you have heard?"

"Heard of what?"

"That (Y/N) is missing."

"Oh," A frown fell on his features. It wasn't his usual frown. People who really know him would notice that his eyes are full of worry. 

He sat beside Tsukishima before he spoke again. "I know you have ideas on places (Y/N) could've gone to."

"I do not know what you're talking about."

The latter chuckled, "Oh, humor me, Tsukki. If you're that worried, I can excuse you for today's practice. No problem."

"Does that mean that you aren't concerned?"

"I am concerned. I want to look for her as well, but I have to whip the other players into shape. I'm sorry if I couldn't accompany you right away."

Tsukishima stood up and sighed again, "You will excuse me, you said?"

"Yeah."

There were silence and the background noise of balls and shoes colliding on the floor. He wiped the sweat off his face before replying, "I'll be leaving the gym in a few minutes."

He changed his clothes and packed his things up, causing the team to exchange glances.

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi called, throwing his friend's large jacket to him, which the other caught. "Take care! I hope you find (Y/N) and get her home safe."

"I wish. Then, I'll leave it to you, Captain."

The green-haired middle blocker's eyes teared up and sparkled as he beamed a smile back, "I got it!"

Tsukishima started to look for (Y/N) at the places she liked to go to; the art store, the Central Park, the kid's playground, the museum, and the prefectural library. But there was no sign of her anywhere. He looked at the nearby places to no avail. He walked on while dialing her number, but her phone is out of coverage area. He spent 3 more hours finding the girl and soon received a message from Yamaguchi, telling him that (Y/N) hasn't been found yet and that he joined the authorities to help them find her. 

He walked back to the direction of his home, panting softly. He had failed to find (Y/N), yet his brain won't stop thinking about her possible whereabouts. The cool breeze of winter hit Tsukishima's face and shivered at the contact. He had hoped again that she is inside of an establishment, safe from such cold weather.

Tsukishima's home has its lights out. Her mother was invited into her colleagues' reunion as said in her text, and both his father and brother are busy at work. He reached for his key in his pocket and was opening the door, not until he heard a loud sob from somewhere. Tsukishima looked around the place as the sobbing continued. He searched for the source and ended up in their backyard. He caught the sight of a small figure behind the bushes and went closer to confirm.

It was a cat. It had scurried away once he got close to it. Oh, how stupid he is to get his hopes up only to find a scared animal. But he was certain he heard a sob somewhere near. And cats aren't capable of making a sound like that. Or maybe he was only hearing things?

He dragged his feet to the main door to unlock it, but this time, there was a loud noise of scrubbing on the roof. What is it this time? He moved back and looked upon where it came from. 

To his surprise, it wasn't another cat but a person. Their legs were curled up, arms covered around them, with their chin on their knees. Tsukishima turned on his phone's flashlight and there she was. 

It was (Y/N). Her shoulders shook, either from the cold or trying her best not to cry out loud. 

"H-Help me."

He stared at the girl, confused and fighting back laughter because of how scared (Y/N) looked. "How the heck did you get in there?"

"I climbed that tree and jumped off to break in and hide in your room. Turned out that the windows are locked. I don't know how to jump back and I-I was too high from the ground. You know I'm scared of heights! Why did you lock the window?! Stupid!"

"Of course, I would lock the window for the security. And wow, aren't you the stupid one for knowing how to climb and jump up to my window and not knowing how to get down? Why did you climb if you are scared of heights? Such an idiot."

"Fine, fine. I am an idiot. Now, can you help me get off this roof?"

He crossed his arms and smirked, "No."

"Ugh! Please, Kei. I've been trapped here for hours. I am begging you to help me get down. Please?"

He sighed in defeat and raised his arms. "Here. Jump."

For seconds, (Y/N) didn't respond as she was having second thoughts about jumping.

"What? Do you expect me to get a ladder? I'm sorry, but it's in the basement, broken." He said in a mocking tone. "Don't you want to come down?"

"Can you catch me properly? Are your arms stable? Won't you fall on your ass?" (Y/N) interrogated.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, "Alright, stay there and freeze to death."

"No, wait! I was just asking! Come back! Don't leave meeee!"

The blonde looked up to her and raised his arms again, "Don't think. Trust me, I will catch you properly and you won't crash to the ground. You weigh like nothing anyway."

"Are you talking about yourself?" She retorted, pertaining to his weight.

"Can you please just jump?"

(Y/N) inhaled and went to the edge of the roof. It was a scary view for her, just looking down makes her dizzy, and want to throw up.  She thought he would have the largest frown on his face because of how irritatingly slow she was, but there was Tsukishima waiting for her with the calmest expression. She smiled a little.

"Here I go..."

She took off, closing her eyes, and swallowing her fears. The gravity pulled her feet down shortly after, and Tsukishima readied himself for the impact as he reached her waist. He held on to her lower torso while (Y/N) placed her arms around his shoulders tightly and legs on his waist. The athlete's balance slightly went off, so he took a step back to support both their weights. It was now steady. 

"I'm surprised you didn't lose your balance. Where's the weak boned beanpole 3 years ago?"

"I did for a second."

"Doesn't matter. You caught me. Thank you."

They had stayed in that way for a moment until Tsukishima spoke, "Do you plan to get off?"

"No. I'm tired."

"I am too." Yet she refused to let go.

He exhaled, carrying (Y/N) to the main entrance and finally unlocking the door. Her hoodie was cold and some parts are wet, but it didn't rain on that day. He took her in and placed her on the couch. Tsukishima went to his room, changed clothes, and brought a spare sweatshirt, handkerchief, and a towel. He went down but didn't find (Y/N) where he left her, so he walked to the kitchen counter and found the girl on the corner, shivering like a pup.

He tossed the clothing at her without further words. There was a note from her mom beside the curry in the table, saying she had eaten and she left rolls in the refrigerator. He was about to turn on the stove to reheat the food his mother left, but his eyes landed on (Y/N) who sat quietly, hugging the sweatshirt instead of wearing it. Her hair was disheveled, the sleeves and neck part of her hoodie was damp, her nose was red and her puffy, bloodshot eyes implied that she has been crying for who knows how long. He set the pan down to get her a glass of water. 

"Everyone was looking for you." Said Tsukishima.

"No one was really looking for me." (Y/N) replied, clearing her nose. 

"I didn't spend the last 3 hours tiring myself to scan the whole town for no reason." He sat beside her, handing the glass. "Care to spill the tea?"

(Y/N) drank first before speaking weakly, "I hate them. So much."

The male remained quiet, waiting for her to continue her dilemma.

"Remember when I told you and the class that I will be the most successful doctor in Japan after I finished my studies? It was a lie. It wasn't my dream to stay in a hospital and treat ill people, I only wanted to draw and paint. I didn't care if it never made them or anyone happy, I am happy doing it. And they are taking it away from me."

He knew from the start that her dream job as a doctor wasn't true. For years she stayed close to him as a friend or more, she won't blabber anything of the medical topic. She was terrified of syringes. He saw her reading an article about surgeries and like, but her focus was easily taken away.

She will get a pencil then start scribbling and drawing. Something that Tsukishima always sees her doing whenever she has a pen and paper, but she insists that it was a mere hobby. Her notebooks are well designed and organized, but the back is always full of artistic doodles instead of algebra solutions. She only has very few art materials yet she can make a portrait with only her fingers to shade. She makes digital art without a stylus. She would drag him to the museum after class to view some western and eastern paintings or any work of art while he admires the dinosaur fossils. For times she's watching an art tutorial and talk about art, draw and paint, she has those stupid sparkles in her eyes and a huge smile on her face. 

"You know Tsukishima, after I finish studying and became a doctor, I'll become an artist and if the time let's it, I'll open my own art gallery. That's my ultimate dream." She looked alive and delighted.

Very much the opposite of what she looks like right now. 

Even though she was a slave of art, as Tsukishima was a slave of his own interests, (Y/N) prioritized her studies so much. He understood why when he went to her house and met her parents before their study sessions. He had noticed everything but chose to stay quiet. 

"I-I was drawing last night. Dad entered my room but I didn't notice so he ripped the music away from my ears and yelled. He said that I would always lock myself in my room and draw every night. It was never-ending and irritates the shit out of him. He asked why would I do something so useless that isn't even connected to any academic subject. He was looking down on my art like he was looking at a piece of crap. He told me to stop and threatened me if I didn't. Why would I get punished for drawing? I couldn't get myself to stay silent so I retorted. If he doesn't want to see me drawing, then he shouldn't enter my room at all. He should stop meddling with my hobbies. His anger only went up."

(Y/N) stopped for a while to wipe her tears and snot with her sleeves but Tsukishima placed a handkerchief on her hands. She muttered her thanks and blew her nose and soon followed with a sneeze.

"Soon, it became a full-blown argument. He said that he was checking out if I was doing my projects, but oh he was so disappointed only to find his daughter drawing for nothing. What the heck? I gave them the best grades I could get, and part of it was because of you, Tsukishima, but they still aren't satisfied? I balanced drawing and academics, but they made it seem that all I was doing was my hobby, completely ignoring my efforts at school. I finished the school activities and I reviewed for midterms and all I want is to be left alone and draw. What, they want me to go crazy by studying every hour with things I won't even apply in real life?"

Her fake laughter echoed in the kitchen for seconds before her depressed tone took over again.

"Mom heard all the shouting and joined the argument. Of course, she sided with dad without listening to my feelings and there they ridiculed their youngest child's interests and talent. They told me that everything I do is bullshit and wrong, that I was useless, that I was the huge opposite of their expectations, and... and how come God gave them a joke. She said they raised me so that I could help them, not to do such useless things. It hurts to shout back but I did to explain why I'm so passionate about art in hopes that they will listen and understand but, I was so wrong. I was suddenly slapped..." She placed her hand to her left cheek, her lips quivered a little. 

"I-It stung so much. Mom complained about how the Internet generation is so rebellious and won't listen to the elders. They didn't raise and teach me to talk back at them, but here is their child being a bitch. They started comparing me to my elder siblings or relatives who focused on their studies and who are at the door of success. I know they only want me to achieve the best, but my success isn't up to them! It's on me!! And I've invested a lot for that! They shouted at me as mom pulled my hair. It was so loud I thought I was going deaf. Dad blamed the gadget's influence and my drawings. I have only drawn decent fanarts of fictional characters, people, and sceneries, but they believed that because of these, I turned into a mannerless bastard. So mom decided to get my phone and lessen my allowance so that I wouldn't buy any art materials that are a waste of fortune--"

She bit her lower lip that is trembling uncontrollably and her eyesight blurred as her fat tears got in the way.

"and... D-Dad... he... he... he tore m-my sketch pad apart..."

Tsukishima's eyes widened. (Y/N) brought that thing with her almost everywhere she went and it was filled with good drawings and art plans. She has a lot of them though, but Tsukishima could only imagine how she felt when her efforts were trampled over by someone important to her. 

(Y/N) broke down, bawled her eyes out, and shrieked hysterically. He looked at her with a heavy heart. He had seen her crying sometimes, be it because of a sad movie or empathy, but never like this. A depressed, emotional wreck. Her eyes were sore enough after a lot of hours, but she won't stop crying. It was heartbreaking to see and hear his significant other in this state, yet Tsukishima didn't know what is the right thing to say. 

But maybe there was no need to say anything at all.

Kei wrapped his arms around her weeping figure and pulled her towards him. Cry it out, pipsqueak. (Y/N) didn't expect this action, nonetheless cried in his shoulder He didn't care anymore if this meant he gets his clothes drenched in her snot and tears as long as she felt a little less lonely. He rubbed her back and hair in an attempt to comfort his lover. (Y/N)'s airways hurt, but she screamed the pain out, in hopes that the pain in her heart would vanish. Her weeping went on for long minutes until she choked in her own sobs that Tsukishima had to get her another glass of water.

"Tell me, Kei." She began, wiping her eyes, "Is there... something wrong with me? Is my dream really that insignificant?"

"There's nothing wrong with you. You followed your ideals. Anyone including me would've done the same." He answered beside her.

"I-It's realistic, right?"

"It is."

"Then... why did it turn out like this?" Her voice was cracking.

Tsukishima looked down, "The society is just very cruel."

"Yeah. It sure is. Such a cruel society to live with." 

(Y/N) let out a dejected sigh and leaned on Tsukki's shoulder. "I couldn't look at them without such overwhelming fear and hate anymore. I wonder if... they knew that I was doing this for them. I'd like to make them smile with something I've made myself. Once, I made each of them a portrait. A realistic one made from a pencil. I couldn't afford a material set that can be used to paint realistically, but I tried my best to impress them with a charcoal one. Oh, if only you saw their faces when I gave them the portraits. They returned a half-hearted smile. It wasn't the same kind of joy I see whenever I give them perfect scores on tests. I didn't spend 3 sleepless nights just to see their half happy, half unpleased reaction. I wish they could feel more proud of their daughter who worked hard for them... I wonder if they threw it away as he did on my sketch pad..." 

They let silence engulf the atmosphere for a while. (Y/N) had calmed down a little, despite shedding smaller tears from the side of her eyes. Tsukishima held the sweatshirt he gave her earlier to make her wear it on the top of her hoodie to lessen her shivering. He stared at her, while the other gazed down on the floor with dead eyes.

Tsukishima asked, "So, what are you going to do now?"

"What am I going to do now huh..." (Y/N) repeated. "I'll probably... put everything to an end."

"You know I won't let you."

"I'm not talking about my life, silly. I might stop drawing and all. I've lost it."

"Isn't your life and drawing one and the same? And I'm pretty sure you have that immense talent to continue."

"No... Besides, talent isn't a talent if it doesn't make anyone happy."

The blonde mentally scoffed. She just said that it makes her happy in the beginning.

"Oh? Fine, stop doing that one thing you put everything into. What would that girl you received a commission from would feel if she were to hear you though?"

(Y/N) was stunned. She had completely forgotten about the whole commission thing she opened in her social media accounts. Tsukishima accompanied (Y/N) on giving the commissioned charcoal portrait to a girl last 3 weeks ago. It was (Y/N)'s first commission for years she's making art. Someone liked her work for the first time and paid for it, and her client looks very contented and glad. The words she said filled her thoughts with inspiration.

"Wow, this is awesome! I'm so happy!! Thank you for making this, it was exactly what I've pictured on my mind! You're amazing! All the excitement I've bottled up for this day is so worth it," The girl, probably a little older than them paused and admired the painting she received from (Y/N).

"Would you ignore those words she said?"

 'Please don't stop drawing, I'll be looking forward to your future works!' 

A pang of guilt hit her chest. She wants to pursue art, but there are these shackles and chains on her limbs and around her neck that made it hard for her to move forward. She couldn't breathe. What happened yesterday night was too much. Her parents went overboard. 

"B-But—"

A monotone voice interrupted her, "Don't. Never stop striving for something you have been building for years. You might be defeated now, but surely, you will win some time. There's no way you'll stay in the lowest level of the ladder after I saw how hard you worked. You will go to nationals again, and I will continue to support you. I'll cheer for you and stay by your side! So please, do not stop! Let me see those beautiful blocks that you execute in the game once more! And I will watch you reach the top! Doesn't matter how many times, I'll never get weary of watching you do amazing things!"

She was silenced by that statement. She had definitely heard those before, but couldn't quite remember where. 

"Does the sentiment seem familiar to you? Those are the same words that came from your mouth when I was planning to quit volleyball after our huge loss to Date Tech last year. I am returning them back to you."

"Huh?" She replied with a meek voice.

"That time, you really did a good job meddling with my decisions. It annoyed me first, but what you had stated held a weight that I couldn't disregard. You gave me the small push I didn't know I needed. In the end, I'd like to pay you back." Tsukishima stated with a far away look in his eyes.

(Y/N) listened with watery eyes. This Tsukishima's side isn't definitely the one she gets to see every day so she couldn't feel anything but the warm, fuzzy feeling that is healing her heart. 

"It's probably selfish for me to say this but, don't you dare give up. I didn't stop. No matter how long and hard the game is, no matter how tired and discouraged I get, and no matter how many pessimistic thoughts clouded my head, I didn't stop chasing after a falling ball and thinking of another tactic to counter the enemy. I kept your words with me in court. It was you who told me not to in the first place, and I'm not going to forgive you if you ever dropped everything. I won't let the stupid, starry-eyed (Y/N) die today."

The girl beside her started sobbing. "But you told me once that my drawing are ugly."

"Oh. That. I... kind of remember that. I'm not sorry about what I said because I did it to provoke and rile you up. It was a lie though. As someone who always sees you drawing, I can't call your work ugly at all. Your art is... astounding. You make it look like it's so easy to do. I think you forgot next sentence after I told you that."

"What was the sentence after?"

Tsukishima sighed, "I told you to keep doing it, right?"

The sound of (Y/N) crying engulfed the kitchen, "Oh gosh, why did I forget that... I'm sorry, I'm so idiotic..."

The blonde brought her back to his arms, "Will you stop crying, you've been too hard on yourself today,"

(Y/N) hid her face on his chest, muffling her speech, "c-couldn't help it... my mind is such a mess... I do not know..." She paused, coughing. "It's no use if m-my parents don't acknowledge me..."

"Hundreds, or perhaps thousands of people who follow you on social media account recognize you. People in school recognizes you. I recognize you. I am your ally. Isn't that enough reason for you to get back on your feet? I will support you just like how you supported me. You have a lot of people who admire you, but I only have a few people and you. Yet your words are enough. I'm certain that soon, you will reach your parents' standards and get them to acknowledge you. It's not impossible."

(Y/N) fixed her tear-stained face before looking up to him, "You know what? Who are you? Is a good spirit possessing your body? The Kei I know will either stay quiet or laugh at me for being pathetic."

"I was trying to be nice for once and this is what I get?" He frowned.

(Y/N) chuckled and hugged Tsukishima, "I'm sorry. Everything you said meant the world to me. Thank you very much."

She relaxed against his lean body, "I have a question though..."

"What?"

"You literally had no business in my art, it was my own problem. Why are you doing this?"

"Why don't you ask yourself after you argued with me that night? Why did you have to butt in with my choices?"

"Because you like volleyball! You might look like that someone stole your dinosaur collection when you're at practice, but you're good at it and have a future in it! It is a part of you, and you're deciding to throw it away? Your potential is too big to be wasted and I refuse to let that happen." Her voice is a little louder now, but hoarse.

"There's your answer, little gremlin."

"How is that— Oh."

"But I'd like to add something."

"What is it?"

"You look better doing what you really like. It makes you look less like a hag."

It was silent after that. (Y/N) punched his arm. Tsukishima didn't even wince but asked, "What was that for?"

"The last statement was unnecessary, and the first one is sweet yet cringey." She criticized. 

"C'mon, I'm just a teenager. Aren't you the cringey one most of the times?"

She used the handkerchief to sniffle her runny nose away, "Why do you have a knack of returning everything I said to me?"

"I won't do it if it's not appropriate." Tsukishima placed his hands on her back and to her hair, "So, what are you going to do now, (Y/N)?"

"I'll think things through. My brain is still slightly messy, but I'll be fine, thanks to you. But Kei..."

He hummed as a response. "I don't want to go home. I want to run away."

"Not possible. You can't survive on your own. You're almost 18 and until now, you don't understand how a washing machine works with all your perfect scores in exams."

"This is just a thought. I didn't say I'll be alone. I'm taking you with me."

"I refuse."

"Why?"

"Couldn't you wait for more months until we graduate?"

(Y/N)'s eyebrows raised, "So basically, you're agreeing, but not this time?"

"No, but you'll be free of your parents' suffocating control. Who knows how huge is your potential by that time."

"How considerate of you." The girl smiled.

"Only this time. And no, we won't live in the same place in college. Not yet. Not until we finish our studies, have secured jobs, and get important things done." 

"Will you be playing volleyball at college?"

He lazily replied, "Probably."

"Don't give me such an ambiguous answer!"

"Probably yes." 

"Hmm. Fine by me. I'll continue to draw, then." (Y/N) rested her head near Tsukishima's neck. 

He smiled a little at her answer, "Another thing though. I don't think... you should leave things with your parents like that. There'll be a time where you have to face it."

"Yes, that sucks... I don't want to think about it but I'll have to go back eventually... When that confrontation happens, I'll try to calmly talk it out with them. I will never be certain if it will end well. But my hate and fear of them won't change."

"You can always run back here if it didn't end well."

"Kei, don't want to see their faces just yet. Can I stay here for a while?"

"You even bother to ask. You are welcome anytime in this household. Just enter the house in the front door, not in my window."

"Right... thank you."

"Oh, now it's my turn to ask. How did you get in there?"

(Y/N) sighed, "It was on 4:30pm. I was on the loose and I looked for a store where anyone can't recognize me so I can eat for lunch. But there's this creep who kept on following me—"

"Did he hurt you?" He abruptly questioned.

"No. I ran as fast as I could before he could even get close to me, but in the next block, there were the town authorities with my mom, and I knew they were looking for me, so I blended into the people with my hoodie on and made my way. I climbed the tree in panic that they'll find me and hid there. It took me hours to notice that your house is just next to it, so I decided to climb to your window. However, the window was locked, and I was stuck."

Tsukishima sighed in relief. "It was a miracle that a klutz like you didn't fell off the tree and surprisingly, no one found you."

"I was high in adrenaline when I climbed the tree. My blending and hiding skills are in ninja-tier now, I beat you."

"Whatever. What did you have for breakfast?"

"...a melon bread."

"Just that?"

"Just that." 

Tsukishima kissed her forehead before lifting her up with him. "Go change. Borrow any of my clothes. I'll reheat the food."

(Y/N) kissed his cheek, slowly got off him and went upstairs. Tsukishima opened his phone to text Yamaguchi about her situation and proceeded to reheat the spicy curry. 

"Wait, Kei! Is it okay for me to eat?" She shouted from upstairs.

"What kind of question is that? Of course you can." He shouted back.

"Your mom left that for you, for your dad and for your brother. I'd feel bad."

"My brother and dad will come home late and I'm sure they've eaten already. So is mom."

"Are you sure? I can replace the food." She said while going down the stairs.

"Oh, you can cook? I'm afraid you'll burn the whole kitchen." He mocked.

"At least not the whole house." (Y/N) laughed, "Just kidding, I have a tiny knowledge in cooking."

"You don't have to, I told you they already ate. I'll bring out the sushi mom made if you still want to eat."

"Alright. Thank you for the food."

Few hours later, Tsukishima's mom came home and took off her shoes. "I'm home."

As she was about to enter the living room, Akiteru greeted her and placed his finger in front of his lips, indicating her to keep quiet. She wondered what was going on and saw her youngest son and his girlfriend leaning on his shoulder, asleep on the couch in front of the TV. He signaled her to read the note Kei left on the table. 

To mom, dad, and brother,

Earlier in the morning, (Y/N) went missing and her parents and town authorities were looking for her. I found her on the way home, but it turns out that she ran away from her home because of an intense argument between her parents, and doesn't want to be found yet. Please let her stay here for a while. I'll do most of the household chores or any favor you ask me in return. 

Mom, I shared the curry and sushi rolls with her. I left for some for dad and brother. (Y/N) said it was very delicious. 

Love, 

Kei.

She smiled after reading the note and looked at the sleeping kids. She took notice of (Y/N)'s eyes and quickly understood the situation. Before she left to rest in her room, she looked for a spare blanket and laid it atop them to keep them warm. 

(Y/N) snuggled further to Tsukishima's arms, satisfied on how this night will end well, unlike yesterday's.

©4aloysius.porteu.2021. please do not repost, copy, or edit. plagiarism is punishable by law.

[juminly]

The Death of Me (Nobunaga x Reader)

Fandom: Ikémen Sengoku.  Pairing: Nobunaga Oda x F!Reader.  Summary: After being away from you for a while, Nobunaga finally comes back... and he misses you so.

Rating: Explicit. (Minors, DNI)

Warnings: Fingering, Teasing, Nipple Play, Dom/Sub Undertones, Slight Exhibitionism, Very Very Light Choking, Dirty Talk, Marking, Implied Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Doggy-Style.  –♥– ”Why is my queen looking up at the midnight sky when she should be waiting and watching the woods, seeking my arrival?”

His low husky voice swept into your ears without warning, it was unclear whether it was the sudden gust of wind that sent your skin shivering or if it was the sensation of having your Devil King pressed against your back, hovering behind you as he settled his chin on your shoulder and his hands found home on the top of your thighs. You knew better than that, feeling the minuscule movement of his hands as they began to travel up your body. He murmured against the column of your throat but all you wanted to know was if your Nobu was safe and sound and if his mission was successful. When you parted your lips to speak, the way his name fell from your lips in an inquisitive tone, your lover knew exactly what you were going to say and what was going through your mind and reassuring you was absolutely his top priority before anything else. He was still human after all and you would fear for his life, even from a mere cold and he has seen it with his own two bloody eyes.

“Tsk, when all my victories are sure and certain, my Queen, you worry about such trivial matter when it seems that my apparent claims of territoires that are exclusively mine and occupied by myself have been fading?” His hands meandering over your supple curves squeezed your small waist, right over the obi that had the kimono you were wearing tied together, tearing your mind away, wondering what your Devil King was talking about and what he was planning to do to you.

"I suppose my fireball is due for a reminder since she's been fiery enough to be wearing my clothes upon my unexpected return." The heat of his breath increased as you felt his lips part against your skin, his teeth grazing ever so gently before sinking into your flesh as he soon sucked on you as gently as he could. Not.

This was only a preamble to what he had planned for you and having spent over a week away from you already had him reeling and aching for a taste of you. The thought finally clicking in you brain, the blemishes that clearly marked you as Nobu's were no longer there. And the thought did not please him in the slightest. However, there was a silver lining. Now he could claim you over again, as he had many times before. As he will continue to do so as long as he is able to breathe.

Sucking in your breath with an audible hiss, you could feel the blood rushing through your veins as Nobu began so diligently marking very visible spots, tactically choosing the lands in which he wanted his claim to be the most apparent. His breathing seemed to be controlled yet you could feel his heart beating fast, hard and strong against your back, his hands were now cupping your breasts, over the fabric of the kimono of his that you had so brazenly worn, the same kimono that you had worn from the desire of wanting to be surrounded by them, the feeling of having him on you, his scent... anything of his.

It was all you needed, especially when he was away. You looked beyond delectable to him...The fact that you were dressed in a piece of apparel of his taunted him in inexplicable ways, especially since you did so when he had been away. What were the thoughts that you had of him when he was away? Were you thinking of him as much as he had been thinking of you? There had been so many thoughts whirling through his mind even as he had been so immersed in his role as King during his mission, yet deep down, nothing could change the fact that he was your lover and he would yearn for you, in any time, any place. He was irrevocably yours and the way you had occupied not only his heart and soul but his mind as well spoke volumes. Someone had to pay and it had be both of you.

His lips were ruthless on your skin, visible dusky spots appearing in his wake as his tongue teased your earlobe as he sucked on it ever so gently and whispered in your ear. "Is my queen glad that I have returned or maybe we shall allow your body to speak for you, hm?" Tracing a wet trail over the seams of your earlobe before speaking once again, every word from him blowing on it and eliciting the slightest of trembles while his calculated motions only caused the sleeves of the kimono to slowly fall off your shoulders, slowly but surely exposing more of your chest, the fabric barely even covering your breasts.

He could feel your pebbled nipples as he gently brushed his fingers over your breasts, the hardened beads noticeable even through the barrier that had dared to separate you from your lover and almost, excruciatingly so, he finally allowed the fabric to fall and unveil what you both sought.You wanted nothing more than his hands on you and he wouldn't even fathom the thought of depriving you of that wish.

Finally, his calloused fingers flicked over the sensitive pebbles while he palmed at the tenderness of your mounds, every part of you hanging on every word he spoke as you were aching to turn around and be utterly consumed by crimson, a pool of darkened blood that had every ounce of your being screaming in yearning. You knew the moment you looked upon it, you would then be rendered completely helpless, not that you already were. You were lying to yourself. As you tried to wriggle in his grasp, wanting to act upon your thoughts, Nobu pinched you, hard enough to elicit a small gasp from you and gentle enough not to hurt you.

"Nobu, please. Let me hold you. I've missed you and I want to just.."  Pushing you against him as he pressed you against the railing of the balcony, you couldn't help but squeal, a surge of adrenaline mixing with the desire rushing through you. "You better not let me go, Nobu. I've waited long for you. Let me have you first and then you can let me go."

Nobu chuckled, the resounding sound making your heart fluttering with happiness as if it were a bell that chimed in reaction to the blissful echo coming from the depth of his throat. ”My fireball has enough energy to tease me even in a compromising situation such as this.”

Finally turning you around, you were finally able to lay your eyes upon your lover. Finally taking him in, knowing that he was safe, knowing that he was back where he belonged, in your arms. You were expecting to see that devilish smirk of his, that expression that made your skin tingle and a deep knot being tied so tightly in your stomach. Yet, you were welcomed by a serene smile and eyes shining with emotions that you could only identify as affection and adoration. Bringing your hands to cradle his face, he leaned down and greeted you with an enrapturing kiss, his tongue stripping you from any thought that wasn't of him in your mind while one of his, hastily slid over your midsection and over the obi that was the only piece that kept the kimono on you, traveling down to smooth his hand over the apex of your thigh.

A deep chuckle resounded from his chest. You, out of everyone in Japan, being able to read his mind on specific occasions and especially in intimate ones, knew what he was thinking and aiming for. As he pressed himself harder against you, pinning you against the railing so you couldn't even move, even if you wanted to, the imprint of his hardness becoming imminent as you felt it probing your waist but you were far more distracted by what he planned to do with those fingers that had been teasing the softness of your inner thigh.

Right when you broke the kiss to catch your breath, Nobu pushed two fingers inside you and curled them immediately, caressing your inner walls and watching you with a fierce gaze, with bated breath that matched yours. “I know how the fire of impatience burns within you, love, I can tell by feeling how wet you are for me. But patience..." His smile grew wider as he watched your back arch and your mouth fall open as he easily slid in a third finger inside you.

"You shall find what you seek. See, I have all the intention to ravish you after I watch you fuck yourself with my fingers and tell me how much you have longed for me in my absence. Move, my love. I want to see your hips thrusting down on my fingers, bringing yourself over the edge, using me just for your own pleasure." One of your hands gripped his hair tightly when the other scratched at the skin of his nape, not even eliciting a wince from him as he watched you with a pleased smiled while you hump his hand, his thumb finally joining to drive you even closer to your climax.

"May the past lie in the past yet I can’t help but find myself curious and jealous of the thought of you not thinking about me the way I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve rode miles before my men as I left them to rest just so I can be here with you, my warrior Queen." Noticing how you had bitten your lips, the influx of sensations coursing through you, your legs quivering and barely managing to keep you standing, your grip around his shoulders even loosening as your strength is slowly drained out of you with the sheer intensity of your desire. His lips crashed down on yours, biting your lower lip and prying your mouth open, taking in the delicious sweet and soft moans that you were making in your kiss.Taking your breath away, his lips still hovered against yours, his eyes now even closer to yours, an unmistakable yearning in them.

"This nonsense of you being my future Queen than actually being my Queen is nothing I want to hear from you. Especially when you know the power you hold over me. People know you as The Queen that reins over the Devil King himself and that is not something that I'm saying.” What he told you were not just mere words, coming from him, they meant more, they weighed so heavily on your heart as you continue to get more acquainted with how deep his love truly runs for you. Brushing his lips gently across your cheeks, he whispered in your ear.

"It is what the people say. And I can tell you... It's true." And that's when you snapped. Your vision blurred as the waves of pleasure came crashing down on you, your core clamping down on his fingers which he was now pumping in you, helping you ride out the aftershock of what was just the prelude of the night. And he wasn't going to stop there.

"You're going to turn around for me, Queen of mine and let me fuck right under the midnight sky, so that the Heavens can look upon us and watch me as I claim you as mine and no one has a single say in it but me... and you." He spoke as he licked your slickness that dripped from his fingers, his attitude as haughty as it had always been but there was so much more in it than that. The vulnerability dripped from every word he said, the way the crimson of his eyes shined for comfort, for solace that he could find within and with you.

Removing your hands from around his shoulders, he brought of your hands to his lips, kissing your hands and your palms before turning you around and placing them on the rails of the balcony. "Since you had so eagerly took it upon yourself to decorate your body with a kimono of mine, you will not be taking it off until I am through with you." Pushing the fabric of the kimono to the side and exposing the lower half of your body to the cold wind, shivers ran over your skin but soon, you would have enough to warm you up.

"Nobu, I don't think I can stan... Ahh..." With a swift thrust, your King had completely sheathed himself inside you and began rocking his hips against yours, the slap of his skin against your behind joining the chiming of the cicadas that accompanied you in your intimate reunion. Your slick from your previous release only aided him in thrusting in and out of you at an intense pace, each time he plunged deep inside of you, the head of his cock would brush that sweet spot of yours and your body rocking forward with the sheer force of your warrior.

One of his hands were wrapped around your neck when the other had been placed on your lower stomach, his middle finger running incoherent and cruel circles over your sensitive nub. By the end of that night, you knew that you would be shaking from overstimulation and it was clearly bound to happen. Squeezing his hand around your throat briefly, Nobunaga growled against your neck. "Right after I'm done fucking you on the balcony, I'm going to carry you to my room and you're going to show me exactly what you were thinking of doing to me while I was gone." He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek, the gesture almost a little too sweet for what he was doing to you. Completely and utterly wrecking your body.

"I'm going to watch you 'bounce on my dick' as you always say in the middle of your sleep, your naughty thoughts always revealing themselves to me. Shamelessly. And I wouldn't accept otherwise. Just like how your body tells me how much you want me. Your cunt is milking my cock so good... Gods... What are you doing to me?"

Gripping you a tad bit tighter, he turned your head so he could kiss you senseless, his hold on you the only thing keeping you both seemingly grounded. "You'll suck both your cum and mine off me, looking at me with those fiery eyes as you devour me whole and show me how determined you are to make me weak for you. Hah... Before I... take you all over again... Until you are completely spent. Don't you know how weak for you I am, my love? You... If I'll allow anything or anyone to be the death of me, it would be you..."

Only you... –♥– Tagging: @delicateikemenmemes, @sweetlittlemouse come get your man... again hehe.  Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist ! 

[entishramblings]

What Haunts Your Heart [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: helllllo! So first off, WOW thank you for 900 followers!! I can’t believe it enough of you think I’m this interesting to follow hehe. AnYwAyS....here is yet another Legolas one-shot because, as we all know, I’m obsessed with him

Request: @guardianofrivendell - Hi! Can I ask for a Legolas oneshot? I really love your writing and I want to see how you would write this. So you're having nightmares, and Legolas notices. One night he has enough and tries to cuddle you and surprisingly it works. So from then on he does this every night without you knowing he does it. Then one night you wake up before him and tadaaaa... Chaos. Can be romantic (please?) with a bit of angst?

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is a member of the fellowship and begins to have nightmares. Legolas notices and is very worried.

Word Count: 2,839

Warnings: fluff, lil bit of angst

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

A gentle chilling breeze blew upon the sleeping fellowship, dancing among their unconscious forms. It was quiet and calm—for the most part that is. Legolas was the only one not in a deep slumber. He laid on his back next to (Y/N) for the third night in a row, deep in his thoughts.

Concern began to pool in his mind as the sound of tiny whimpers met his elvish ears, not noticeable to any other. That was the only downside to heightened hearing he supposed—being able to capture the small whispers and cries of those suffering when no one else could. It was saddening; more so, almost always he could not do anything to help....especially now. Though, tonight the sound did not come from a distance village or a nearing war, it came from the woman beside him.

(Y/N) was a strong minded and smart individual; she brought much to the fellowship—skills of healing, fighting, planning. She was strategic and her expertise was valued greatly, despite her intimidating nature. All of these characteristics seemed to make her appear so tough and unconquerable; anything thrown at her she would throw right back. (Y/N) was a woman of war; she could hold her own, that was for sure. So, seeing her haunted in her sleep was....strange for the elf. Legolas knew she had seen many horrors, as he had, but what was so gruesome and troubling that it crept its way into her darkest dreams?

Another small whimper escaped (Y/N)’s throat.

She was on her side facing Legolas, which gave him a clear view. He watched as her expression distorted into one of pain and worry. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pulled tight. She began to squirm in her sleep, rotating so her back was towards the elf. Yet he still saw the woman’s small fist clench the fabric of the blanket draped around her.

A third cry flushed from her mouth.

Legolas couldn’t take it anymore. The sounds were so heartbreaking. They pulled harsh aches of agony from his chest, tormenting him with sadness. He couldn’t bear to see her like this any longer. Three nights he had witnessed this, and three night he had done nothing.

The blonde elf scooted closer to her until his chest was pressed against her back. He used his arm to prop himself up in order to see her face. Ever so gently, he brushed away the hairs that had come loose from her braid, revealing her tear stained cheeks.

“Oh, (Y/N).” He whispered sadly.

Legolas wiped the moisture away softly and spoke once more, “I wish I could take away what haunts your heart.”

He begun to smooth her hair and caress her cheek. The tender sensation seemed to calm her unconscious form for the tears stopped falling and her lips ceased quivering.

The elf could not help but stare fondly as he continued the light action. He began to trace the shadows that were created upon her skin. The moonlight accentuated them clearly, showing the sharp curve of her jaw and gentle bends of her features. When (Y/N) wasn’t dreaming of horrors, scowling at maps, or beheading orcs, her expression was calm and tranquil. She was quite beautiful, indeed.

Legolas forced his eyes to pull away and he quietly laid down, curling his body around her. As his warmth radiated into her being she begun to relax against him. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth and she stopped the shaking that previous racked her body; instead, she seemed to push into him further. Legolas smiled at her unconscious action. It was sweet and adorable, really. He draped one of his muscular arms over her waist and pulled her closer—if that was even possible. He buried his head into the softness of her hair and inhaled the lavender and forestry scent that lingered among it. He allowed the sound of her heartbeat and gentle breaths to take the place of the anxieties lingering in his thoughts. Being so close to (Y/N) not only calmed her, but it initiated a peace within Legolas as well. He desperately tried to hide it, but he had craved this closeness with her; he had craved this comfort. Legolas had never met a women so unusual—in a good way that is. (Y/N) cared not for dresses and trinkets. She preferred the outdoors to the safeness of stone walls. She was interested in skills beyond those of a stereotypical maiden. And Legolas adored this.

Slowly, his mind drifted to sleep as he blocked the nightmares from her mind, like a shield would to arrows.

......

Legolas woke the next morning to the light smell of charcoal and burning wood. It was comforting for it reminded him of the warm fires the elves would have in Mirkwood—especially during the winter season. But that comfort instantly turned into panic. His blue orbs flung open and his heart raced.

Oh how he hoped no one had seen the....compromising....position him and (Y/N) were in.

Of course, cuddling wasn’t considered compromising in the most basic definition, but it was reserved to those who were courting or wed—and Legolas and (Y/N) were neither of those. Yet, their bodies were molded together and their position held still all night.

The blonde elf sat up quickly to meet the grey eyes of the Ranger. 

Aragorn looked at him with raised eyebrows, “Are you alright, Mellon Nin (my friend)?”

Legolas’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly before releasing a deep exhale. Maybe the Ranger would not comment on the previous closeness of the two? He focused back on his friend but the look on Aragorn’s face did not falter.

The Elven Prince cleared his throat, “Yes, yes I am alright. I was just—just—“

Aragorn interrupted him, “Cuddling with (Y/N)?”

“Yes—I mean no.....I mean......Aragorn.....” he trailed off.

A smile ghosted across the Ranger’s face as he turned back to tending to the small flames.

Legolas sighed and stood up. He trudged towards his friend and plopped down on a dark textured log next to him.

“She has been having nightmares,” Legolas stated simply.

Aragorn glanced at the elf out of the coroner of his eye. “(Y/N)?” He questioned in surprise.

Legolas nodded, “She never wakes but she suffers greatly. I can see it.”

The Ranger stared into the coals that he was poking. This new information worried him for he had known (Y/N) for a long time—even trained her—and this was something new and out of character. “Do you know of what she dreams?”

Legolas shook his head and glanced down at his hands, “I always thought her so strong. I know not what haunts her.”

A long stretch of silence passed between them before the Ranger spoke once more, a teasing tone upon his voice, “So naturally, you had to cuddle her.”

Legolas sent him a glare, “Well no—I just—I—it...it was the only way to stop her cries.”

Aragorn sighed, the smirk that had previously plastered across his face faded into a serious expression. He dropped the stick and turned his full attention towards Legolas. “Don’t think that it has escaped me, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The elf frowned, “What do you mean?”

The dark haired man shrugged, “The way you look at her.”

Legolas was clearly takin aback by this comment for he stiffened and drew his eyes away.

A light chuckle left the Ranger’s lips. “You forget I was raised by your kin. I recognize those elvish looks of longing.”

Legolas felt a deep blush creep up his neck and into the tips of his pointed ear. He didn’t know what to say—what could he even try to say? Aragorn had figured him out. But luck seemed to be on his side for the waking groans of Gimli halted their conversation.

.......

The past week had been difficult. The fellowship had trudged through rugged terrain and rough rocky tundra. It was taxing on them all, even the elf. In order for his companions to get the rest they needed, Legolas had offered to take nights watch more often when they were exposed with no cover. He still kept a careful eye on (Y/N) though. When he was not cuddling her he could see the dark dreams take hold. Her brows would scrunch together and the soft cries would return. Therefore, as soon as his watch was over he would wake the next and then nestle his body against the young woman’s. And soon enough, the soft whimpers and heartbreaking cries would end and the shaking and rustling would cease. No longer were her dreams filled with agony and fear.

For some reason, the thought of (Y/N) discovering Legolas’s nightly cuddles never crossed his mind.....not until it actually happened, that is.

It was sometime past midnight when (Y/N) unexpectedly woke up. The reason—she knew not. But she was surprised to feel so.....so warm. The nights had been getting colder as they moved north and the chill did not escape her every morning. So, the puzzlement of the additional heat flooded her foggy thoughts. (Y/N)’s tired brain began to process her surroundings further. She became aware of the extra weight wrapped around her waist—then the smell of pine and honey, then the gentle breaths near her neck. However, it wasn’t until the sound of a content sigh and the motion of being pulled closer into a firm mass, that she realized she was indeed curled against someone.

Alarm instantly fueled her body. (Y/N) immediately launched herself into a sitting position and turned to see just who had been cuddling her. Her wild eyes were met with the sight of a groggy elf who was entirely confused by the sudden movement. (Y/N) watched as Legolas propped himself up on his elbow and peeled his lids open. He slowly looked at the empty spot next to him, then feeling a gaze on his form, turned to look at (Y/N).

“(Y/N)?” He questioned in a disoriented daze, his voice deep and slightly raspy.

She didn’t answer she just stared at him, breathing heavily from the adrenaline.

Legolas casually rubbed his eyes with one hand before speaking again in a heavy whisper, “What is it?”

“Legolas?!” She hissed. Her voice was full of exasperated shock, annoyance, and anger. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

His brows pulled together as he looked at her in surprise, the curse in her sentence heightening his attention slightly.

(Y/N) clarified the question in irritation when he did not respond, “Why were you spooning me?!”

“I...was just...I mean I....”

The young women rolled her eyes before reaching outwards. A loud smack echoed amongst the emptiness of the night—drawing the attention of the uncrowned king on watch.

“LEGOLAS!” She whisper-yelled, “Wake up!”

The elf was cupping his cheek and his expression was filled with bewilderment—lips parted, eyes wide.

Cruel? Maybe, but it worked.

“Why were you cuddling me?” She repeated once more.

“You...you have been having nightmares. Crying in your sleep. This has been the only way to—“

She jabbed a finger at him, “Stop. Just stop.” She glared at him, “I have not been having nightmares.”

Legolas frowned, “Yes, you have.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes and stood up, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She crossed her arms. “I. Don’t. Get. Nightmares.”

The elf sighed, “(Y/N)...”

But she turned on her heal and stomped off.

Legolas let out yet another exasperated sigh. Did she think that he thought less of her for her nightmares? Why is she refusing to admit to them?

“Go after her,” the voice of Aragorn stated plainly.

Legolas snapped his head upwards to look at his friend. He was unaware that Aragorn had been watching and now embarrassment filled his soul. Had Aragorn really witnessed all of that? Even the slap?

The elf pushed those thoughts from his mind for he had more important this to worry about —(Y/N). He grabbed his two long-knives and went after the young woman.

......

Legolas made his way through the large rocks and jagged territory until he found her perched on a particularly large bolder, overlooking the land. He sat down next to her and held out one of the silver weapons.

“It is unwise to go off in your own unarmed.”

(Y/N) pulled her knees to her chest, ignoring him.

The Elven Prince sighed. He gently placed the one knife next to her and let his hands play with the second one. His gaze wandered across the horizon as the two sat in frustrated silence. The sun was just beginning to rise, the assortment of brilliant colors not yet bleeding among the stars. If it wasn’t for the tension between them, the elf would have felt at peace—which was rare during these dark times.

It was a while before anyone spoke.

“(Y/N), please do not lie to me,” Legolas stated gently. “I know dreams have been tormenting you and I do not think any less of you because of it. Tell me what bothers you so.”

A long pause stretched between them before (Y/N) released a shaky breath. Her eyes did not move from the landscape before them. “I have seen life leave so many—brutal, bloody deaths. Strider and I have travelled far across Arda, yet it is all the same—death. And now? Now that the ring has been found, is there to be any hope? I cannot watch another I care for die. Not again.”

Legolas glanced down at the knife in his hand, “At night they come to you, don’t they? You see their faces? That is what haunts your heart?”

(Y/N) slowly drew her gaze towards the elf. “They come for you too?” She whispered quietly.

Legolas looked at her softly, “They used to, many ages ago.”

Trying not to show her desperation she spoke again, “How did you make it stop?”

Legolas cleared his throat and took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I focused on what I could—the happiness in the present. Anchor your heart on what is in front of you—your friends. Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir, Gimli, the hobbits....me. We are all bonded by this fellowship. Take comfort in it.”

The elf scooted closer to her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her her ear. His touch lingered on her cheek and jaw. “Do not push your friends from you.”

(Y/N) lowered her gaze as a light blush crept up to her cheeks at the elf’s gentle trace.

“(Y/N),” he whispered. Yet she would not meet his eye. Legolas cautious tucked two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. “It hurts my heart to see you in such pain. Why did you not come to me about this?”

She hesitated, “I did not want any of you see me as weak—especially as the only woman here.”

Legolas shook his head, “I do not. You are a warrior and this is something all warriors have to bare.”

(Y/N) nodded slightly and turned her head towards the sunrise. The two watched in silence as orange and pinks stretched across the sky, waking up the earth. It was a beautiful sight really. The soft noises of nature reached their ears, and as (Y/N) listened to the songs of the birds she allowed her mind to drift into thought. The elf’s words did indeed bring her some comfort and, quite frankly, she felt stupid for thinking the others would not understand. They were all warriors, were they not? Except the hobbits that is. They have seen the horrors of war and surely they would be reminded of it daily for it was not something one could easily forget. Though one question, slight unrelated, lingered in her mind.

She glanced at the elf beside her, “Legolas? What did you mean when you said it hurts your heart to see my pain?”

He glanced at his feet which were dangling over the edge of the rock before answering, “Do you not know?”

Her brows pulled together in confusion, clearly not understanding.

Legolas hesitantly leaned in. When (Y/N) did not back away, he gently pressed his lips against hers. Slowly, she responded, moving her mouth with his. The Elven Prince’s hand weaved its way into her locks of hair, feeling the silky strands as if they were ripples in a running river. (Y/N) then cupped his cheek with one hand, and used the other to trail up his muscular chest. The two pulled closer, desperate for the comforting touch of the other. The kiss was tender, soft, and wet. It was something they held onto tightly. It was the consolation from the horrors of the world, and they had found that safety in each other. Eventually, they pulled away, but reluctant to lose the other’s warmth they resting their foreheads together. The blonde elf softly caressed her cheek while they absorbed the comfort of the moment.

“Legolas?” (Y/N) whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for slapping you.”

A light chuckle bellowed from the elf’s chest and his lips curved into a smile. “To be fair, I somewhat deserved it.”

[surveycorpsbabie]

i prefer coffee - levi a.

an // so as much as i love all the fics of midnight tea times with levi i thought i’d put a spin on it. also don’t mind me always starting my blogs with fics about coffee

genre // fluff oh how i love levi fluff

wc // 1.4k+ unedited sorry

Insomnia may have been the bane of your existence in the past, at this point it seems more like an inconvenience. There are more pressing issues to focus and wallow on than a few hours of lost sleep. Still you found little ways to make the best of it.

Before joining the army you saved all the spare money you could manage to buy coffee beans. It was a luxury you knew, there were only a couple greenhouses in the upper ring that could even grow the plants. Still you couldn’t help but continue your habit of saving spare cash for coffee.

The only time you dared make it were on nights that sleep refused to bed you. The kitchens were bound to be empty at 2 am which was all you could ask for. Although you got why you still couldn’t stand the curious noses and endless asks for sips of your rare drink.

So you learned that early mornings were the best, and oddly enough the ritual helped you sleep.

When you first joined the Scouts you didn’t realize there was another night owl. You felt unbelievably embarrassed when you quite literally bumped into Captain Levi, this caused you to spill your drink all over both your boots. You had been saving up for the good beans to celebrate graduating from the cadets and they ended up spilled like mud on your new captain’s boots.

He offered to make you a new cup, you tried to refuse saying it was your fault but he didn’t seem to be listening. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you had been drinking coffee and not tea. You also didn’t expect him to have any and definitely didn’t think he’d want to share with a scout who hasn’t been outside the walls yet.

Since then you often found yourself sharing conversations with the raven haired captain in the late hours of the night. He often made tea for the both of you. You’d often find yourself hiding a small bag of beans in your pocket when he beat you to chase and you couldn’t make your brew before running into him.

He seemed to enjoy having someone to keep conversation with, you enjoyed his dry jokes and seemingly never ending scowl.

-

You smiled to yourself when you opened the door to the kitchen and found it empty. On your last day off you bought some preground coffee from a new farmer in the interior and were looking forward to trying it. Finding and trying a more affordable product always puts an extra pep in your step.

You hummed lightly as you watched the water come to a boil. You began to pour the hot water over the grounds. Eyes closed, you enjoy the sweet subtlety in the air and the sound of the coffee drips, they create a gentle harmony that you can’t get enough of.

The sound of someone clearing their throat cut through your moment of peace and pulled your attention to the door.

“Oh! Captain you startled me” you said with a nervous laugh. You wondered for a moment how long he was near, maybe if you had been paying attention you would have heard the echoes from his steps.

He rolled his eyes before muttering a soft “you can call me Levi.”

“But you’re my captain, sir” you tease “I thought you were all for respecting your superiors.”

“I am.” a man of many words, as always. Sometimes you wonder what goes on in that brain of his; why does he make conversations so hard to predict.

He stepped further into the dimly lit kitchen and watched with a bored expression as you finish making your drink.

“Coffee?”

You turn for a moment to soak up his appearance, he had one eyebrow raised slightly clearly curious.

“Yes I finally have a moment to try out this new blend.”

Perhaps your eyes sparkled when you talked about your secret passion or maybe you were making up the look of intrigue that Levi now wore.

He only hummed, taking a moment to think. A trait you noticed quite early on in your acquaintanceship, you hesitate to call him a friend...or more.

“I didn’t know you liked coffee.”

“Well I don’t get to enjoy it much, and you’re clearly a tea person so it never came up I guess.”

“Tch and I’ve been making you tea for years like an idiot.”

You couldn’t help but laugh “well I enjoy your tea so don’t worry too much about it. Now did you want to stand in the kitchen all night or do you want to sit down?”

-

You had almost forgotten about that night, days passed and soon weeks passed too. New cadets had come and with them lots of paperwork. Levi had asked you to help a couple times a week from now on, apparently asking said cadets to help was out of the question. As the captain so eloquently said ‘they are all useless shits’.

You gave a gentle knock on the office door, you knew you were already expected but still it felt off to drop any formalities with humanity's strongest.

A muffled ‘come in’ rang through from the other side of the ruffley cut door.

His office was always surprisingly warm considering the large window that should be seeping cold air into the room. Maybe it was a trick of the mind, the oil lamp gave a warm atmosphere and the smell of paper was oddly comforting.

You spotted the less than plush looking chair that sat across from the pair of eyes that watched as you make your way across the room.

He wordlessly slides you a stack of papers that were topped with a pen with one hand and a cup of presumably tea with the other.

Skimming the document you reach for the steaming cup, reading while drinking something was sometimes awkward but after many late nights you’d like to think you’ve mastered the art of reading while looking over a mug's rim.

To your surprise the warm beverage was not in fact tea, but coffee. You look to Levi for answers, surely he didn’t go to all the trouble of getting this just for you.

“What’s with the face? Did you eat something off?”

Any other time you would have cracked a smile at his specific bowel focused humour but you were spiraling. You almost scoffed at yourself, it’s only a drink.

“You got me coffee?”

“You said it was only for you huh?”

Your cheeks warmed “n-no i didn’t mean...i just meant it’s so hard to get and…”

“Just say thank you and move on.”

“Thank you..”

You shakily try to focus your attention back on the paperwork but it proved a difficult task. Was it really not a big deal? No, you knew how though it was to find coffee and he must have gone to the upper ring for it. It couldn’t mean nothing then right?

Taking a deep breath you center yourself. There was a long night ahead of you and that night had no time for your reading into what drink your captain gave you really meant.

“Stop overthinking.”

“I’m not” you try to give a reassuring smile “it’s pretty basic paperwork after all.”

“Tch.” his sharp eyes scan you for a moment, he was taking another moment to think over his words. “You know I wasn’t talking about paperwork.”

Looking down again you speak, meeting his gaze felt overwhelming for once. “Then what were you talking about?” You grasp for your cup and drink, eyes locked on the swirling movement of the dark liquid.

“You're not making too much of this.”

“The coffee...or us?” you could hear your heartbeat banging in your ears, the heat from your cheeks burned and you were sure he would make note of the colour. This was it, you had been dancing around subtleties and long glances for too long. If you had misread things you’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again.

The banging of your heart was suffocating.

Was this just his moment before talking?

Was this a pause for him to think of the right words to let you down?

Were you going to have to switch squads? Maybe Hange would take you in.

“Don’t be stupid. Why would I go to all the trouble of finding overpriced beans if there was no us?”

[katsucutie]

i hate your guts (m)

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader genre: smut, humor warnings: smut, swearing (you know the good stuff) overview: class 1-a has this belief that you and katsuki hate each other, though one incident has their minds changed word count: 4.2k author’s note: this was written to fight my writer’s block and i happened to find a psycho-analysis of katsuki which helped somewhat and its quite interesting. anyways...the song choice while writing this was house of cards, also this was written in three days and i tried using any relevant medical terms i’ve learned so far in uni. hope you enjoy!! masterlist | ko-fi

Walking through the azure-rimmed gate you knew the day would be the same. Homeroom for ten minutes then classes back to back with a minor minute break in between, next an oh-so-needed fifty-minute lunch, and finally two classes to end the day. Not that you could complain, heroes in training must earn some type of education.

Though school wasn’t the worst thing invented, you can definitely say occasions in English class were not lackluster with Present Mic as the teacher. Or in math, when Midoriya yells out an inaccurate answer only to be corrected by Yaoyorozu. It's the little moments that bring laughter, or maybe it’s watching someone embarrass themselves in front of a class that's joyful.

And you could never forget the times where Jirou teased Kaminari for short-circuiting.

While all those moments are fun and dandy, 1-A can also be quite the chatterboxes and gossipy, especially when it comes to your feelings towards Bakugou. Believing that your relationship consists of mutual hatred, class 1-A constantly manages to tease both you and the blonde-headed male. Even All-Might manages to separate the two of you during training.

Although you never said anything against the rumors, it's quite humorous to see a school be so wrong in their thoughts. Is it not obvious that the glares the two of you send are not out of anger but endearment? Clearly not to Todoroki who claimed that Midoriya was All-Might’s secret love child, but that's beside the point. Additionally, you’ve yet to hear an accurate hypothesis as to why you and Bakugou would hate each other. Many of the theories revolve around Bakugou’s ‘anger problems’ but honestly, who doesn’t get mad?

Nonetheless, the rumors surrounding your alleged detestation toward the blonde sparked a little prank between you two. Pretending to hate each other until people catch on that you’re dating.

And the joke has been going on for quite a while, four months to be exact. Four months of pretending to hate in front of crowds, yet loving behind closed doors. Four months of experiencing the rush of adrenaline when you sneak around to his dorm room in the late hours of the night. Four months of leaving your friend groups to hang out during lunch.  

Four months of waking up early to walk to class with Bakugou. And don’t forget about four months of the blonde-headed male constantly breaking you away from your thoughts.

“Oi Y/n, break out of that daze and let’s go, we have thirty-minutes before class and I’d like to spend that time not pretending to hate you” Bakugou calls while molding his fingers into yours.

“Oh please, I’m not pretending you know I hate your guts” You smile, leaning into the broad male walking towards homeroom. “Do you think today will be the same?”

“Yes, those idiots could watch us kiss and still think we hate each other, though I can’t complain, their oblivion is better than if they were to pester us about our relationship” he snarks.

Mindlessly nodding in agreement, you and Bakugou wander through the purple-stained floors of U.A., passing by random classrooms, and peering out the glass windows that overlook the campus.

After twenty-five minutes of strolling through the halls, Bakugou and you turn down the corridor leading to class 1-A, while unlocking hands and prepping for your fake and falsely-interpreted loathing glares.

“Today marks day ninety-six of the class believing we hate each other” you whisper.

“They’re hopeless….”

“But if at any point, you want to stop pretending let me know… I wouldn’t mind, jokes are funny but you’re my top priority”

“Is Bakugou Katsuki getting soft on me?”

“No.. shut up-”

“And they're back at it again Ladies and Gentlemen… the feud between Y/n and Bakugou seems everlasting” Kaminari calls sliding open the tall door leading to class 1-A. Way to ruin a cute moment.

“Honestly the two would probably be best friends if they didn’t hate each other, they both like the same things” Oh they wouldn’t believe the interests you two share.

“Yeah, but their personalities are so different, they’re just not meant to be and that’s fine” What a shock your relationship would be then.

“I’m so glad that you’re interested in my ‘relationship’ with Lord Explosion Murder… but I have more important matters to attend to such as earning my education so that I can be a top pro-hero” you remark sliding into your chair. Your comments are never intended to insult your boyfriend, but teasing his choice of a hero name couldn’t hurt anyone.

Waiting for the remaining two minutes for class to start, you check your phone and see a message notification from a familiar contact.

Babe 💗: storage room during lunch?

Quicker than your mind made a decision, your fingers don’t hesitate to press the send button.

You: i’ll bring the key        

----------

Bakugou was a master of three things. Okay maybe more than three, but three traits excel. His talent, his mind, and his ability to use his fingers.

Bakugou’s talent is tremendous and has been able to advance his goals of becoming a pro-hero. He acknowledges that he was born with such an extraordinary quirk, and has a flair for using it. Notwithstanding the male’s breakdown and internal belief that he is inferior to his pre-quirkless childhood friend, Bakugou unceasingly exerts himself to be more than a student with talent.

His mind is magnificent and allowed Bakugou to comprehend multiple topics of interest. Placing third in the class’ midterm exam, it’s evident that he shines in academic settings. And though few peers in 1-A state that Bakugou fails in the social aspect, you claim the opposite. In their eyes Bakugou is brash, however, after spending time with the boy, you have viewed him as self-reflecting, with social skills that others cannot see.  

While brains and talent may all be magnificent qualities of the blonde, nothing beats Bakugou’s ability to use his fingers. Combined with both his talent and his mind, Bakugou has the ability to make both inanimate and living things explode. And that isn’t related to his quirk.

“You’re imagining events that haven’t occurred yet. Am I truly that talented?”

Flushed and blinking in a shocked manner towards the male in front of you, you ask him if his quirk was mind-reading.

“Hmmm… No, but after seeing you so embarrassed I’d love to have such a quirk so that I’d be able to view the thoughts inside that mind of yours, but I was gifted with explosions... You, on the other hand, were blessed with the ability to swap items on your command. A quirk so useful, especially in times like these when I don’t have a key to the storage room”

“Oh please, just admit that you use me to gain entrance into forbidden rooms” You tease, giving Bakugou the janitor’s key to unlock the storage room.

The male chuckles unlocking the door to the storage closet, “Maybe a bit, though you reap the benefits of getting it” Change of thought, maybe he is brash.

Shutting the door behind you two, you finally express your raw emotions towards your boyfriend, engulfing him in a hug.

“I missed you”

“You came over my dorm last night” What an ass, couldn’t he just accept your affection?

“Yeah, but you go to sleep at like eight-thirty, which means I have to leave you dorm before then, and then I’m stuck in my dorm with nobody to talk to until I go to sleep at midnight, that’s about three and a half hours being alone”

“You’re so clingy… it's cute”

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel less lonely since I go to sleep at like eight-thirty and leave you alone’”

Bashfully looking down at the floor rather than your boyfriend, you mumble your request.

Releasing the hug, Bakugou smirks, poking fun at your diffidence, “With that ask, I don't think you can be shy… Are you sure that's what you truly want?”

Nodding your head you look up to the red-eyed male, taking in his dilated pupils. It's always been him that you’ve desired.

Accepting your form of consent, Bakugou kisses you, enveloping your figure while you sneak your hands around his neck to deepen the embrace. And although the two of you are in a storage closet skipping out on lunch, the feeling of epinephrine dispersing within your bloodstream, inducing fast heart rates, is blissful. A salacious rendezvous with the man you’ve come to love could never hurt anyone… as long as they didn't find out.  

And if one were to catch you two, would they truly stop two aroused students halfway from committing adultery? Would a teacher not be embarrassed if he/she watched as Bakugou hurriedly zips down your green skirt in order to slide his fingers inside of your warmth? Or would someone scamper along hearing the lewd mewls arising from your throat?

“You’re so loud Princess, we have to keep it down or else someone will hear us, okay?”

Yet the person to blame for such noises was Bakugou himself. One could imagine the boy having rough, unmoisturized hands from his explosive quirk, but his inheritance of glycerin allows him to easily travel in and out of you.

“You’re close aren’t you? I can tell. Your walls are contracting at a faster rate and tightening each time I pump my fingers into you. It's really hot too, especially knowing that the world believes you hate my guts when behind the scenes, I rearrange yours”.  

Words cannot describe the pleasure Bakugou exposes you to. A thumb pressed against your clitoris, his middle and ring finger dug past your labia, and you’re unraveling beneath him. He has you under his full control. And how Bakugou feels will determine your release. An untroubled Bakugou can earn you multiple chances of release, whereas the current Bakugou you’re experiencing will rip your attempt at euphoria, despite you being almost there.  

“Katsuki please, I was right there… I’m so close you even said it yourself” You plead, wanting to reach a climax.

“I don’t know… strenuous activities make me tired and I wouldn’t want to upset you with the hour I may fall asleep” Bakugou smirks while tasting his digits, “You taste like caramelized sugar, I wonder where that came about?”

“Suki please, don’t leave me like this”

“It’ll only be for a little while babe, but lunch is almost over, we have to go back to class. I’ll help you out at my dorm alright?”

What more could you do but nod, put back on your skirt, and pretend to hate Bakugou once more in public?

----------

The walk back to class was internally embarrassing. Arousal saturated your underwear, heat filling up between your legs and left you with a foggy mind. You couldn’t imagine pretending to hate Bakugou now when all you could think about was Bakugou hovering above you in his dorm room, aggressively ramming into your hole as you pleaded for mercy. But you’re in school containing students who are not Bakugou to distract you from your misery.

“Y/n pay attention to me, and why do you smell like caramel?” Well shit, is the cat out of the bag?

Looking up at the voice calling, you smile faintly in means of apologizing and mutter an incoherent response to Mina’s question.

“Sorry, and thanks I guess... It might be from the sweets I had during lunch”

“I see, well since you like sugary foods we should go to the bakery today after school, I’m sure the others would like to come too” The pinky bounces brightly.

“I can’t today, sorry! I’m super behind on work and barely understand what's going on in class, let’s go this weekend when I’m free?” What a Lie.

Fortunately, the promise of a raincheck is enough for Mina to back off from the situation and accept your rejection. Today would have been a perfect day to go out with friends, yet the blonde-headed boyfriend of yours decided to be unfair, leaving you to crave his affection. Though, the school day would be over soon enough with only two periods following lunch. And only then would you be able to gain some type of relief.

As if that ideology would be so simple.

Bakugou Katsuki is a man full of pride --rightfully achieved, of course, meaning he knew how and when to push your buttons. Right now being one of those times.

Despite wanting to pay attention in your world language class, Bakugou made it very difficult to do so. Especially knowing that he is the cause of your phone silently vibrating every three minutes in your pocket. He doesn't want you to forget he is the cause of your erotic thoughts. Rather, he’ll keep reminding you that he is controlling your excitement.

However, from the glance across the room, Bakugou didn’t look like the lead in this relationship. His eyes were majorly dilated, with his red iris visually smaller in circumference. Additionally, a prominent cherry hue spread across his cheeks, that one may call flustered from afar. Although, only the two of you understood each other’s physical response towards seduction.

Babe 💗: you look dazed

Babe 💗 : I don’t think that’s the best for someone who wants to become a hero, don't you think?

Babe 💗: this class is so important

Babe 💗: …

Babe 💗 : don’t look at me

Babe 💗: i'm not the teacher

Babe 💗: your so cute trying to ignore these texts

Oh how badly you wanted school to be over

-------------

As the clock hit 2:45 PM, you watch everyone around you hurrying to leave the school and have freedom. And once five minutes go past, 1-A is a semi-empty classroom with two students remaining. Two hormonal, amorous, epinephrine-surged students patiently waiting for their peers to leave the school grounds, so that they can walk to the dorms together in peace.  

Whilst hand-holding may be a shock to onlookers, if they had the capability to read your mind, myocardial infarction would sure to follow. Outstandingly too, if they did not foreshadow the events of you walking within the fourth floor of heights alliance and entering the second room from your left.

“Your room is so homey” You comment. Despite visiting the blonde’s dorm room on multiple occasions, the comforting aura never ceases to relax you.

“I would hope so, I don’t want to be reminded that we’ve been moved from our homes to our school campus in fear of malicious attacks against students”  

“Thanks for that… truly an amazing choice of words” You sarcastically remark. Not everyone needs a reminder of the traumatic incidents students of U.A. have been through, especially when it's clear that students of 1-A (and others) have not received enough therapeutic aid to cope with the events suffered.

One would think that Bakugou of all students would be most affected by trauma, starting from falling victim to the Sludge Villain incident, to being kidnapped by the infamous League of Villains, though he shows the opposite effects. While you cannot see inside the mind of Bakugou and tell if he is extremely traumatized by the incidents and is repressing his memories as a form of coping, you can see what he is physically doing. And at this current moment, you cannot see someone disturbed by his past, but impassioned with the ideas of what is to come.

Tossing your backpack to a discarded corner of Bakugou’s dorm, you throw yourself onto his bed, relishing in the comfort of his bedsheets. You’ve always loved his bed, your favorite moments with him have occurred there. Random naps while cuddling on Saturday afternoon, binge-watching cult-classics after a big exam, or simply having Bakugou’s powerfully built arms wrapped around you like they are now is unforgettable.

“I don’t understand how you’re so built? We go to the same school, attend the same classes and both do athletic training. I mean I’m not complaining because you definitely look good, but it's interesting how my figure compares to yours”

“That's like me asking why you’re so attractive, it's just luck within life, plus I like your figure, it blends perfectly with mine”. A man with such words can only follow with actions that prove it, and the blonde was sure to do so.

Except for when his phone goes off multiple times.

“I think you should check your texts, it may be important”

Halfway sliding off of your body, Bakugou pulls his phone out of his pockets to read his text messages. “It's nothing important, Kirishima just wanted me to join him and the others to go to some bakery since you didn't want to go”

“Oh okay-” Again you were cut off by the sound of his phone going off, however this time, the alert was a long-lasting ring, signaling that Bakugou was receiving a call.

“He’s so persistent, why would I want to go to a bakery when the best dessert is in front of me”

Lightly throwing his phone on the floor of his dorm, Bakugou discards any form of human interaction outside of the bed, focusing his attention on the one he loves.

“You know I really fucking love and care for you?” You do. You fully understand his love for you, from the way his iris shrinks to the rosy pigments formulating on his cheeks when looking at you. And you’ve never once questioned his devoutness towards expressing his adoration for you.

In moments like these, where Bakugou gently strips clothing from your body admiring every crevice, you know the two of you are in love. The boy may come off as an entitled brat, but when push comes to shove, he will bend over backwards trying to make you feel happy.

“You’re so mushy when you're in the feels”

“Oh forgive me for wanting to praise my girlfriend”

“I’m joking, but it is nice to know the feeling is reciprocated”

His silence you took as acknowledgment. ‘I love you too’ was a phrase you didn’t say often, it sounds too forced. Being obligated to say a phrase in return is meaningless when both parties understand each other’s feelings. And it's even more worthless when the actions committed speak louder than words. Bakugou does not need to hear you say ‘I love you’ constantly when he knows you dragging the zipper down of his pants and springing free his cock from the restraints of his underwear means the same thing.

And when you free yourself from the fondling of your boyfriend to meet your lips with the tip of his enraged dick, Bakugou has fallen prey to submission. Having yet to insert the body part into your mouth, you take notice of the male in front of you. Cheeks flushes, head lolled back, visible veins peeking from his sand-colored skin, and light pants as a result of excitement. Hot.  

One kiss to his head and you feel a little twitch. He wouldn’t last long. Understanding that thought you decide to mess with the male, putting half of his length within your mouth and pumping the other half. It was a shame he toyed with you earlier, now he’d face the repercussions. Light squelches filled the quiet air, and Bakugou’s groans got increasingly vocal overtime. The combination forming a sexual melody awaiting to be abruptly paused.

Releasing your lips from the now wet surface of the blonde’s dick, you hear the annoyed groan of the male. “Why’d you stop?”

“I’m sorry were you close?”

“Obviously, but that doesn’t answer my question”

“It’s just that strenuous activities make me tired Suki, and I wouldn’t to make you upset if I accidentally fell asleep”

Tch. The little sound of irritation fell from Bakugou’s mouth, only signaled one thing, rough sex.

“How I’ve come to date such a slutty brat is beyond me. Getting back at me isn’t going to help you in this situation. All you’ll receive is a punishment, though knowing you, you’ll probably enjoy it”  

Although enticed by the proposition, you failed to speak out after being muffled by your boyfriend. Your own skirt which the male had managed to take off earlier now laid scrunched up in your mouth. In addition to that, your arms were now constricted by a gold-rimmed belt.

And while whining in complaint about the new restrictions placed on you, Bakugou alters your kneeling position into one laying beneath him. The primal glare he sends you would signal fear to others, however, you know that the fun is only about to begin.  

Widening your legs apart Bakugou spares no time plunging two fingers into you, stretching the pair apart. Despite being unable to speak, your moans are heard loud enough by your boyfriend to increase his speed. Every sound encouraging the male to continue to berate your walls.

Thinking that the punishment you’ll receive is overstimulation by being one step away from ecstasy, you’re disturbed by the sudden absence of feeling in your core.

“I didn’t say you could come”

Twice today he’d done that. One denial was not enough for him, and that’s when you identified your mistake. Bakugou had the power to reject your advances to climax however many times he’d like. Maybe being a brat today wasn’t the best idea.  

Granted that Bakugou could undeniably be the most ruthless person when it comes to sex, today marked the first time he’d ever advanced into you without warning. The thrusts he implemented assaulting your hole. Even so, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“My god Y/n, you’re so tight, so perfectly made to take my dick”

“You make it so easy for me to unravel within the warmth of your pussy”

“Fuck I’m so close baby, I’m sure you are too”

He wasn’t wrong. The magnitude of the thrusts presented plus the physical restraints and multiple orgasm denials has sped up your ability to reach a climax. You were a mess underneath the man, hoping that soon he would grant you the gift of release. And by the looks of it, Bakugou would provide you with it soon. His cock inconsistently twitching in your warmth, notifying both you and him that he would come soon.

So when the removal of your gag began, you were not surprised. He was close and needed the extra aid of your uncovered moans to aid him to let go. Bare lewd noises ricocheted from the walls of Bakugou’s dorm, and you became thankful that Kirishima went to a bakery rather than located next door. Though had he been, he would have been overhearing an occasion so pornographic, one would think you’re in the business.

They wouldn’t be fully wrong either. Whilst uploading an adult video while training to be pro-heroes sounds absurd, Bakugou has no problem taping to two of you in the act. It may be the idea of possibly getting the video leaked or a similar exhibitionist-like kink, but the blonde constantly acts to videotape during sex.

“This would be perfect on video. The noises you make before you come are so fucking hot I’d replay them until the end of time”

Yet Bakugou is gravely mistaken. Yes, the noises you exhale are angelic, but compared to the rugged groan he calls while releasing his load in you is divine, and never fails in making you follow suit. So when you recognize that tone in addition to the feeling of warmth coating the inside of your walls, you have no choice but to mirror his actions.

“You’re so perfect” He states, slipping himself from your cunt and delivering pecks to your lips while he unbuckles his belt from your wrists. Post-sex always has Bakugou sappy, but how could you complain.  

Wrapping your freed arms around his neck, you pull the male closer to your embrace while nuzzling your nose into his neck. You felt the rapid pace of his heartbeat begin to slow down.

“Are you guys done, because I still haven’t received a response from Bakugou about if he wanted to go to the bakery or not?” What the fuck.

“Did you not press decline when answering Kirishima’s phone?”

“I thought I did…”

“Is that a no or?”

“Of course it's a fucking no, and don’t tell anyone else what you heard. Why were you even listen-” He hung up.

“You think we can go another day pretending to hate each other?”

“Nope… he definitely told the entire class”

“That's a shame, it was fun having them think I hate your guts”

“Awe how tragic… now get up so we can clean you off, heroes in training don't get UTIs”

How sweet.

----------

The trek to school the next day seemed no different than the past. You woke up early to walk to class with Bakugou and strolled the corridors. Only this time while sauntering into homeroom, nobody greeted the couple at the door, rather class 1-A smiled awkwardly as you held hands walking to your seats. Although you wouldn’t have known the reason for the tension in the classroom had Kaminari not jokingly mumble to Sero that he would’ve never expected the blonde to be an exhibitionist.

“Hm, if I recall correctly, I said not to tell anyone”

“I’m sorry my phone was on speaker when I called you” Great.