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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year

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Pinned Fanfiction Post! Updated 9/25/24.

Psst… there's a way to support my writing now (and thank you Kraiva, Som, Charlie, Flamia, Bree, and more who encouraged me to do it).

Fandoms:

The Magnus Archives

Malevolent (Podcast)

Deviser (Podcast)

I'm bad at updating this, my apologies! It's all on AO3, folks.

Latest:

Malevolent

BIG BANG: BUT IT BEATS THE DARKNESS AO3 || Tumblr

The Magnus Archives

"T" IS FOR TOMB - a bittersweet sad post-TMA one-shot AO3 || Tumblr

The Magnus Archives x Malevolent

CORRUPTED, chapter 24: Fogged. A Tim Stoker x The King in Yellow weird romance because I am strange. AO3 || Tumblr

Loads of Surrogate updates, as per usual. :) The last few:

Like Father - Faroe makes a dangerous decision

Message Received - Kayne bitching because we were too busy to write

Strained - the beginning of fallout from Faroe's choices.

Nightingale - Something with Arthur is very, very wrong.

FINISHED FICS:

(This needs some serious revision! For now, be sure to check my AO3 profile until I get this part cleaned up.)

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

AND EAT IT, TOO

The voice gets under his skin. Is it pleasing or terrifying? Inside his head or out? Is it even real, or is his still-human brain just cobbling monster-sounds into something he can comprehend? It’s impossible to get out of his head, whether literal or not. Doesn’t matter, though, because the answer Michael gives is a terrible one, and ends the same way: Gertrude could protect herself, Jon can’t, and he’s going to die for her sins.

Playlist available here.

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A THOUSAND WORDS

It’s coming, Jon. You know something is; something that itches, that nags, that hides just out of view. Our glorious future is coming.

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QUIT

It’s a stupid-drafty manor—huge, never properly lit, all its frippery fraying at the edges. It has literal skeletons in the walls. It has a foyer right out of Crimson Peak, an empty cement hole with crumbling cherubs in the back yard that might have once been someone’s idea of a pond, and a library with more cursed books than Gerry could shake a match at. The part of Gerry that once used Sharpies to blacken his eyebrows loves this place with a truly unholy passion. If only it didn’t belong to the reason the world was going to end.

Playlist available here.

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TULIPS IN SPRING

Martin crawled back into bed like he’d crawled through the burned-flesh hole in his heart, and knew he still loved Jon. Martin knew Jon loved him, too. Jon had thrown away godhood for him, like it hadn’t mattered. Maybe it hadn’t.Jon loved him, and that meant they could fix this.All Jon had to do was wake up.

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CRUCIBLE

Martin's been having dreams.He doesn't understand them. Surely, if Jon had ever looked like that, with unreal wings and a crown of spinning eyes, he would have remembered. But his memory isn't working as well as it should right now, and Jon never blinks. Martin is afraid.

Inspired by The Watcher’s Crown by @raynecreates

Note: this is angst. Somewhere Else goes very, very wrong.

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INSTANT NOODLES (crack fic)

At least his new hobby kept him occupied in the evenings, when too much time to think turned to wretchedness. It just so happened that much of his life was public. On the internet. As part of some gods-damned podcast. There were no words for how fascinated he was. This was his story—and yet it wasn’t. It was focused on Jon, for some bloody reason, which made no damn sense, since Jon showed up at the very end. Well. There was no accounting for taste.

Note: This is nonsense. Full apologies to Jonny and Alex, who are 100% the creators of my favorite podcast, The Magnus Archives. This is a work of fiction, etc. and so forth. Take it as the joke it's meant to be. Written because I wanted Jonah to suffer.

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SHORT STORIES FOR TMA APPRECIATION WEEK, 2023

Just what it says on the tin. Silliness, angst, and crossovers incoming.

AO3

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THIS DARK THING THAT SLEEPS IN ME - Rusty Quill Big Bang 2023

This is a DARK AU; it is not a kid-fic, though Jon is young. Bittersweet ending ahead. Spoilers for the whole show, though this is very much an alternate universe. In a world where the End won and Jonah Magnus is its Heart, the cycle of death and rebirth is a given: no one lives past thirty, the Other Fears scramble for scraps, and any infant without an Alignment—called Uncertain—has until the age of ten to be claimed, or they are sacrificed. Jon, an Uncertain child, knows things he shouldn’t, has memories he shouldn’t, and also has a purpose: apparently, he’s been called to do what no Aligned person can do and stop Jonah. Sometimes, there is no happy ending, only the right one. Jonah broke the promises he made to take over the world, and Jon is here to make it right. “I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?” ― Sylvia Plath

AO3

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MAGNUS ARCHIVES x MALEVOLENT CROSSOVER

I PREFER MY HEART TO BE BROKEN

Jon feels seen in a way he has not since the Panopticon, examined from cell to soul, from ankles to ego. Does that feel good or horrible? He doesn’t know. He tries to see into this thing, just a little, but just that glimpse is enough. Fear shortens Jon’s breath, shivers up and down his form, because this thing is a god.

Playlist available here

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MALEVOLENT (PODCAST)

BUT IT BEATS THE DARKNESS - Malevolent Big Bang 2024

Serial killer Wallace Larson has been murdering children for his ritual, and the cops won't stop him. Private investigators Parker Yang and Arthur Lester choose to get involved... and everything goes wrong. Interrupting the ritual leaves Parker missing, Arthur in chains, and a piece of the King in Yellow in Arthur's head. But this piece knows who he is, and knows what he wants: to complete his ritual and rule Earth. Unfortunately, Arthur is incredibly stubborn, maudlin over his missing partner (stupid Parker Yang), and John, it turns out, is not the only piece of the King seeking power right now. It's a race against time, and John has a heavy handicap. With Larson in pursuit, a trail of murdered victims in their wake, and a host whose body is failing, John is determined to win at any cost... even if the cost includes Arthur Lester.

"It may not be much light but it beats the darkness" ~ Charles Bukowski, The Laughing Heart NOTE BEFORE READING This is part one of a Darkthur fic. There is violence and bodily harm. This fic was written in tandem with Kraiva's IT MAY NOT BE MUCH LIGHT, and is intended to be read together, though both are standalone. For the fullest experience, read the corresponding chapter from each fic. We'll be linking the connected chapters in the end notes of each. The incredible art in chapters two and eleven are by @wurmeon. The breathtaking 3D models in chapter six are from @iconiccookie.

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WRONG - spoilers for part 43

There is a thread where it all went wrong. Where Arthur, lost, has lost his hope. Where John makes a choice to teach Arthur what it means to be human.

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HERETIC- an Oscar one-shot:

What road remains for a man whose purpose abandoned him?

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Blood and Sand:

When John Luke was nine, Parker stopped writing back. It took a while before John Luke was sure, before he allowed the worry to slither into his bones, and take flavor and color away, and leave only trembling cold behind. Parker had never been quiet this long. Something had happened. John Luke Yang wants his brother back. When he learns about a wish—offered by a god, in exchange for winning some kind of game—he's willing to leave everything behind in pursuit of it. But the Dreamlands are not safe, and the King in Yellow has gone mad. The Games are not designed to be survived. Luke has fallen into deep and dangerous waters. Fortunately, he won't be swimming alone.

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They Both Just Gotta Be Dicks (Intermezzo spoilers):

Not much surprises Kayne anymore. A melting Arthur manages.

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All that Glitters (crack-fic one-shot):

John and Arthur, Lester and Doe, going mano a mano against their greatest foe: 1970s Arkham bureaucracy.

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Fragile (Intermezzo spoilers):

Arthur got low in Larson’s house. He hit bedrock; he admitted, brokenly, that they won. John didn’t let him drown. Which is ironic, because John was already drowning.

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Double the Popcorn (Intermezzo spoilers):

You think there’s anyone I haven’t seen? Fucked around with? Followed? You think there isn’t a version of you I haven’t tweaked to be the very d-d-darkest you could be, with flesh in your fingernails and blood in your cheeks like a really fucked-up squirrel? I. Have tried. Them all. And pal… they don’t fucking work.

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God of Cowboys and Fools:

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done. He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality. Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

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SACRAMENT - an Oscar one-shot

Arthur and John are long gone from Oscar's life, and whatever they did has left more than one wound in the world. Oscar's is obvious. Scratch's is not. Oscar certainly hadn't planned on encountering the malevolent spirit ever again, but now that he has, he faces a choice.

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BOYO

Warning: this is a dark fic. I liked me boyo’s anger, and he was just scuttered enough to make this work. To join me hitting the prop, and hitting too much. To not know when it was time to stop, and to follow my lead as we went far beyond. Wasn’t quite perfect. Didn’t have the rhythm yet. But I knew he’d get it; musical lad, or I’m a whaler, and I’d get him singing my tune. The fool died, and my boyo stood there, panting, blood everywhere, and hit the body again just because. Fuckin’ beautiful, that was to see.

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THE INCIDENT - a one-shot for the @malevolent-fanzine

Arthur and John are in Arkham, getting their burgeoning P.I. business off the ground. And then Kayne asks for a favor, and everything goes to hell.

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TRY, TRY AGAIN - a one-shot for the @malevolent-fanzine

The King in Yellow worked for a month to get Arthur to spill the information he wanted. Eventually, he got what he wanted through a made-up Bostonian, Adam Fry. What happened in the month before Arthur woke?

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CONFESSION

There’s a trick to confession, if you want to keep another from hearing what you said. But not hearing it don’t make it not true, don’t make it go away.

I fear Arthur’s truth, so big and bright. I fear ours together may strike like flint and leap into devouring flame.

An Oscar one-shot

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PEDANTIC

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind, with a rare genetic condition that can’t be fixed. The looming depression is bad. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t create anymore. Arthur nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new. Great, right? Now, if only this John Doe weren’t clearly hiding something so wild that not even PI Parker Yang can dig it out….

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PET

Arthur loses John. Hastur loses Arthur. Yellow does not deserve what happens here.

AO3

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PUSH

They survived. John got his promised body. They're free. But Arthur is still blind, and now, he no longer has someone in his head, helping him around. He's not all right. It's all coming out of him in anger. Today, John needed a break... and, left alone, Arthur tries a four-legged substitute. It goes about as well as can be expected.

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NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

Angst warning Things happen when we age. Unavoidable things. Until death do we part.

AO3

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CLOUD CITY - MALEVOLENT BIG BANG 2023

The sun never rises in Cloud City. Owned by distant gods, the world creaks along in techno-magical paralysis, making Contracts with spirits, and limping along in isolated enclaves while monsters run wild in the Wastes. Five years ago, Arthur Lester, a private investigator, made a Contract with a Summon called Hastur. The deal? His soul in exchange for the identity of his daughter's murderer. Until the time Arthur's soul is ripe for harvesting, Hastur will give him power, and eventually must find Faroe's killer. If he doesn't, they both die, so failure is not an option. Hastur, however, is not a normal Summon... and it turns out he's come here and chosen Arthur in order to stop a threat that will destroy the entire universe if it succeeds. Unfortunately, humans aren't meant to channel power like Hastur's, and Arthur's body is beginning to break down. It's a race against time to solve Faroe's murder and stop the incoming threat before he simply drops dead.

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YELLOW CITY - A CONTINUATION OF CLOUD CITY

Arthur Lester has been taken by the King into the Dreamlands. Arthur Lester has gone quite mad. As promised, Arthur will suffer… but his presence will have a bigger effect on the future of Earth than anyone planned.

AO3

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PUSH

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THE BIRTHDAY SONG

Very much post-canon. Very much fluff. John has a body. Arthur has his sight. They've figured it out, working in Arkham, making their way through life, and John, at last, has chosen his birthday. It's all fluff from here, folks.

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WORTH THE PRICE OF A BOTTLE OF POP

So, anybody want a crack-fic with Kayne, Arthur, and too much sugar even for an Outer God?

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FIVE TIMES JOHN WANTED TO SEE A MOVIE, AND ONE TIME KAYNE MADE IT SUCK

In which Arthur struggles with right and wrong, bemoans the Hays Code, tries (and fails) to define love, and gets a second chance.

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SURROGATE

The beginning of the series, Surrogate: The Director's cut.

The King in Yellow has a plan. The first part works, and Arthur Lester is broken. The second half blows up in his face. John has gone mad, and Hastur’s adopted daughter is upset, but that’s not all. It turns out a certain Outer God wasn’t done watching that show, and when he arrives with director’s notes, not even the King in Yellow can refuse him.

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DEVISER (PODCAST)

DEVIL

Dad knew he'd failed with humans. Dad did not know he'd succeeded somewhere else.

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RED

Son likes painting. Son likes red.It makes him feel some odd things. Things he doesn’t really have a word for. He really likes the way it looks splattered on his hands.

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125 notes · View notes

romerona · 1 year

Text

Avoided.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴇᴍᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ, ɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ… ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ.

Harry James Potter x OC

Marauders alive. Wolfstar.

Masterlist.

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When her eyes opened, all Love could see was bricked ceiling, she focus on a single brick, it bother her, it was the only brick crocked, and tilted, messing up the symmetrical formation of the ceiling. Her focus then was snatched by the dull throb in her head and face, it wasn't exactly painful, but it was bothersome, like a nagging itch she couldn't reach. And who the hell was talking?

"For Rowena's sake, put those potions away."

"Uhm No? I'm trying to figure out which one I can throw at Potter without going to Azkaban."

"Say it louder, why don't you? His sodding uncle is somewhere in the room chatting with Madam Pomfrey, Padma. And not to mention, his father's an Auror for the Ministry, your arse would be in jail before you even throw the potion at his son, who is one of the most famous people in bloody Britain, mind you."

"Worth a shot... Hey Emma, if I ever get arrested would you speak for me at the Wizengamot?"

"No."

"...Rude, I would do it for you, twat."

"Y'know how I feel about the Ministry and Aurors. They are a corrupt organization that–"

"Only seek power for themselves and never let the public know what is going on unless it benefits them."

"Well, they are, I mean look at the Pettigrew situation, I bet my life that the Ministry kept it a secret until they realize they weren't getting anywhere near capturing Pettigrew again, that's bloody wrong, that murderer has been out and about for Merlin knows how long before they told us anything, risking our lives and for what?"

"Have you stopped and thought that perhaps they didn't want to tell us to keep the masses calm?"

"That's the thing, Padma, the Ministry can't just simply decide what it is going to do in secrecy and later on present it to the people, things can go wrong very quickly. And don't even let me get started on the people who run it, or are actively part of it..."

"Yeah, I'll give you that one. Some higher-ups need a full investigation, starting with Malfoy."

"Ugh, I can't believe they let someone like him be part of it–"

"Shut up, my head hurts." Love mumbled, her eyes closing as she feels her brain aching, she reckons is because of the discussion her friends were having about politics, of all things.

"Love!!" Both her friends exclaimed, jolting up from wherever they were and coming next to her, each on either side of her.

"Rowena Love, you gave us a right scare," Padma said, looking down at her a frown on her face, her mouth stretched on a small grin.

Love looks between her friends, slowly trying to seat up "Sorry?"

"A sorry doesn't cut it, it was irritating," Emma huffs, pursing his lips in indignation, but the crease on her eyebrows was giving away how actually worried he was for her. "And stop moving so much, wait for Madam Pomfrey before something else happens to you because you were careless."

"Oh relax Emma, it's not like it's her fault she's here," Padma says, rolling her eyes at the boy in front of her.

Love blinks, a frown making its way to her face as she tries to recall how she manages to get- which she guesses now- the Hospital Wing yet coming up with no answer, last she remembers was sitting on the fountain with Emma and Padma and then... Harry Potter walked up to her, didn't he? He gave her something...?

"What happened?" Love asks, ignoring Emma's protest as she seats up and leans against the bedframe.

Before either could answer Madam Pomfrey came out of her office with Professor Lupin in tow, both coming up to her.

"Ah, Miss Emerson, glad you're awake," Said the old healer when she realize Love was moving again. Padma and Emmanuel move out of her way as she approaches the bed and began to examine her nose, and when she was satisfied her head. "Anything hurts? Nausea?"

"I just have a slight headache, that's all," Love told her giving her a lip-tight smile.

"Does she has a concussion?" Emma asks sheepishly looking between Love and Madam Pomfrey.

"I believe she does." Madam Pormfrey nods, leaning back. "You receive quite the hit, Miss Emerson, but thankfully it was nothing serious, I believe a Pepperup Potion would do the trick with that headache,"

With a flick of her wand, Madam Pomfrey summons the vial of potion and hands it to her. "Drink this wait a few minutes and then you are free to go, however, if at any point you feel nausea or get another headache come right away, is that clear?"

"Crystal, thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Love sends her a grateful smile.

The old healer left without a moment to spare, leaving four people behind, making Love aware of the presence of the fourth member of the small group, Professor Lupin who was giving Love a sympathetic smile as she drank the potion.

"How are you feeling, Miss Emerson?" He asks.

Love sends him a smile, trying to ignore the faint flutter in her stomach for having the attention of the handsome professor and the embarrassment of having steam blowing out of her ears as that happens. "Fine... just a little confused about what happened?"

Professor Lupin's smile turns into a subtle grimace, "Right, about that..."

"Long story short, the boy who lived knocked you out," Padma spoke, interrupting the professor and making Love snap her head in her direction.

Love blinks, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yep, out cold but that was after he broke your nose." Padma let out a chuckle.

"For Rowena's– Padma!" Emma scolded the girl, a disapproving frown on his face.

Padma rolls her eyes, yet the smile was still present. "Did he not?"

"Yes but have more tact about it, stop laughing."

"Wait wait," Love waves her hands, looking confused, "How did all that happen?"

Emma purses his lips, tilting his head "Well, actually I'm quite confused myself..."

"It all happened so fast, Love, you wouldn't believe it," Padma snickers for a moment too long making Emmanuel push her arm with a pointed look. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry but you've to admit it was pretty funny."

Emma stares at Padma for a second before looking away, a grin forming on his face before his shoulders began to shake with a silent laugh, making Padma snort once again all the while Love and Professor Remus watch them burst into laughter. Love was dumbfounded that her friends were laughing at her or her expanse yet not surprised, she glance at Lupin who had a hand over his mouth, shaking his head, he looked amused? Or maybe he was cringing? One of the two, Love couldn't decide.

"Sure, yeah I know my pain amuses you, but when you lot stop laughing at me can you please answer my bloody question?" Love huffs, crossing her arms.

"Oh, Love we are not laughing at you," Padma said, ceasing her laugh.

"You're not?"

"No, we are uh– " Emmanuel rolls his eyes, he glances at the professor before stopping his laugh altogether.

"Potter, we are laughing about Potter." Padma turns to the professor, who has now his arms crossed, letting his arms look toned under his shirt. Christ all mighty, isn't he so handsome? "Sorry, but it was funny, sir."

Lupin waves a hand dismissively, a small grin on his scarred handsome face. "No, no I can... I understand," He turned his chocolate eyes towards her which shinned with sincerity. "However, I do hope you know it was an accident, Love. Harry would never do that on purpose."

"I know..." Love trails off, "I mean, I don't know him but he doesn't seem like the type to knock someone out for a laugh, but none of you has answered my question as to how did that happen?" She looks between them in expectation.

"More like what didn't happen," Emmanuel mumbled sharing a look with Padma.

That afternoon Love came to find out that conversing with the famous Harry Potter could lead to possible injuries, for not even a five-minute conversation of him fundamentally giving her beloved journal back led her to a visit to the hospital wing. Love, despite it all, not only thought it was funny but she felt thankful for the boy, If it hadn't been for him, who knows when she would have found the journal, maybe she wouldn't have been able to, so, she decided then that she should thank him for giving her her journal back the next time she sees him.

Easier said than done...

The next day, Love woke up good as new, with no headache, no dull pain, no nothing, all thanks to Madam Pomfrey and her abilities, not that Love ever her skills. She almost forgot it happen if it weren't for the people asking about it.

"Is it true?" Cho Chang asks, sitting next to Love at the Ravenclaw table.

It was the next morning, Emmanuel, Love and Padam were sitting at their table in the Great Hall when Cho came up to her like a few people had done already and asked her about the incident.

"Yes," Love mumbled as she drink her pumpkin juice. "But I'm fine."

"That's good. Y'know, I barely believed Marie told me that you got knocked out, and by Harry Potter no less." The older Ravenclaw said, helping herself a serving of eggs.

Love hums, and shrugs. "Yeah, well, as much as I appreciate the headache, I know It was an accident,"

"I sure hope it was, it sounded horrid, that did," Cho said, nudging Love slightly.

"What did Marietta tell you about how it happened?" Padma asks, entering their conversation smoothly.

Cho turns to her, "That Harry came up to her, headbutt her and then pushed her into the fountain where you apparently cut your skull open," She sends Love's head a look, "But I know she has the tendency to exaggerate, so I know it wasn't that bad."

"It wasn't," Love deadpanned, "This is how rumours start, the next thing you know I've been cursed to death."

Padma chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. "But In a way, Potter did all that, though."

"Stop it," Love sighed sending her friend a look, her eyes subconsciously travelling to the red and golden table, searching for the boy with untidy black hair, yet no matter how much she look for him, he wasn't there. She must have missed him or perhaps he already left.

"Let's chat about something else," Love interrupted Padma mid-explanation about how she felt in the fountain.

Padma scoffs, leaning back to look at Love. "Like what? There's nothing as interesting as your concussion right now."

Cho giggles at the glare Love sends Padma, she reaches out and wraps an arm around Love soothing her. "What would you like to chat about, my mucker?"

"Dunno," Love shrugs, nursing the last of her cereal as a random thought pops up. "When does Quidditch season starts?"

"Two weeks into November," Emmanuel answered glancing quickly at the girls, the first time he spoke since Cho joined them.

"Bloody hell, it's just around the corner." Cho sighs, rubbing her forehead. "No wonder why Davis is forcing us to wake up at dawn."

Cho was also part of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, she plays as the seeker, and is pretty skilled too.

Padma scoffs, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "No, it's not, Davis is just being dramatic, we play on the second game, and there's plenty of time to practice."

"Better be well prepared, and we have it easy compared to some teams, " Said Cho, sending a look at the Slytherin table. "I heard Flint is making his team practice on our to end with no breaks and don't even get me started on Woods..."

Padma and Cho then began to discuss their team's practice management, Emma piped up a few times and Love had little interest in that so she stayed quiet for the most part, she was just glad she managed to change the subject successfully. Love took another glance at the Gryffindor table to no avail, Harry Potter wasn't there, however, his friend, Ron Weasley, she believes his name is, was eating away a pile of sausages and Hermione, who was pocketing a pastry into her satchel.

Odd, maybe she can catch Harry some other time.

Soon enough the bell rang and Love, Padma and Emmanuel were making their way to their first class of the day, charms, dodging running students and those who didn't watch where they were walking. Once in class, as Love was making her way to her usual seat, Professor Flitwick's high pitch voice called for her. Turning, Love made her way to his desk where he was standing on a couple of books to see her.

"Hello, Sir." Love greeted, sending the head of her house a smile.

Flitwick returns the smile. "Miss Emerson, I heard you were sent to the Hospital Wing yesterday, is everything well now?"

Love purses her lips, a bit annoyed that even the professors knew about what happened because as much as she found it slightly amusing at first it was beginning to get a bit embarrassing, the thought that maybe a good quarter of Hogwarts population saw her like that and most of them were whispering about it was distressing.

"Just a little bump in the head sir, nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix." Love answered, trying her best to look as unaffected as possible.

"Good good." Said Flitwick, nodding his head in satisfaction. "I was concerned when I heard you were unconscious,"

Love's smile became sincere, she was touched by her professor's concern. "It's all well now, sir."

"And I am glad that is. Now, you tell me if you feel faint or anything, understand?" Flitwick told her, giving her a pointed look with warm eyes.

"Of course, thank you, sir," Love told him, she went to turn but he called her again.

Flitwick wave his wand, although it was more like a quick twitch and cupcake settle in front of Love, dancing in her direction. He nudge the pastry with his head but he didn't say anything just smiled at her. Love mirrored his smile taking the dancing cake, "Thank you, sir."

She then went to the seat next to Emmanuel, who already had all his books, quills and ink out. He send her a look when she slid down on her seat.

"Professor Flitwick gave you a cupcake?"

Love beams and nods as she places the pastry on the table to get her books out.

"For what?"

Before Love could answer, Padma piped in from Emma's other side, popping her head to look at Love. "What do you mean 'for what'? Obviously, because she got half beat up, genius."

"Really?" Emma huffs, crossing his arms. "A sympathy cupcake?"

"Pretty much," Love confirms, nodding her head.

Padma groans, pouting at the cupcake. "I wish I could get one,"

"Well, I can always hex you into oblivion, if you want." Love teases with a grin.

"Ha. Ha, very funny, but jokes on you, I win either way, because not only will you get detention but I'll get a cupcake" Padma told her, pushing the side of Emma to make his shoulder hit Love's.

"Oi, you sod." Emma huffs, fixing himself. "This dolt is right Love, instead of getting detention we should call Harry Potter, perchance he could do us a favour and knock this one out too."

Padma began to giggle, as well as Love. "That's awful."

"Come to think of it, he must be mortified," Padma told them, resting her elbows on the table. "He went from flirter to assailant, real quick."

"Flirter?" Love parroted confused.

Before she could ask Padma to elaborate, the class began and Love decided to forget about it and concentrate on the lesson. They were learning Carpe Retractum Spell, in other words, the seize and pull charm; a charm that produced a magical, retractable cord of light, that could be used to pull objects towards the caster, or, if the target was fixed in place, to pull the caster towards the target, according to her textbook.

The class was watching as Flitwick cast the charm, Carpe Retratum, on a pot of flowers, and the pot flew towards him for him to easily catch. Flitwick began to explain the charm and how it worked, when it was the best time to cast it and what it should be cast on before prompting his students, one by one to go in front of the class and cast the charm. Love was able to get the charm right, although it took a bit of force from her to make the pot fly steady towards her.

Soon, the class came to an end, but just before the Ravenclaws could leave their head of house asked for the Hogsmeade permission forms, which most students were more than eager to give away like Love and Emma but others, like Padma, who didn't have it with them at the moment were being told they can give it to him before Halloween day, which was in a few days.

"I know I sound like a broken record but I can't wait, I have the jitters and shit," Padma said as they were walking to their next class, Herbology.

Love nodded, chuckling with a smile stretching on her face. "Me neither, there are so many things I want to do, like go to Honeyducks..."

"Oh, my days, Honeyduck is not going to be ready for what's coming, I am going to raid that store."

"And the Shrieking Shack," Emmanuel added.

Padma made a sound from the back of her throat that sounded hesitant, "I'm not a fan of getting chased by malevolent spirits,"

"That's just a stupid rumour, Padma." Emma scoffs, turning towards her.

Padma shrugged, holding her hands up innocently. "I dunno that, but I'll rather not risk it. I don't play with that stuff."

"Oh, come on, Paddy, It can't be that bad, " Love nudges the girl with her shoulder, "Think about it if it really were evil spirits there do you think it students would visit it?"

"Because some people are pretty bloody stupid... but I'll do it if you do it." Padma sighs, defeated.

Love smiles, and intertwined her arm with hers and then with Emma's, who grunted but didn't move away. "It's going to be fun."

🤍

Days later, Love found herself walking towards owlery with several letters in her hand, she wanted to send them to her family, one letter for her mum, one for her mami, one for Tara, one for Kiara and one for Ezra. It might seem excessive but Love since her first year has done it this way, and it stayed that way, in a way it cure her homesickness.

As she was making her way through the halls of the school, thinking to herself that maybe it was time to invest in a pet owl, (sure, Padma usually urges her to use hers, Akash, but Love always declines, one never knows when something urgent happens to her or Parvati and she needs to send her parents a letter) when Love thought she caught a glimpse of Harry Potter, making a halt on her steps to focus her sight, she tries to search for the messy hair among the people once again but fails to find it, she only founds a taller and older version of him, it was undoubtedly his father, James Potter, looking confused.

"Cabron." She mumbles under her breath before continuing to walk.

Love never thought in her years of life that she'll have so much trouble getting in close proximity to someone. Since that day of the accident, Harry Potter has been avoiding her like a plague, it was getting ridiculous, even in the classes they shared, like Defense Against the Dark Arts, he made sure to sit the farthest away from where she is and is the first out the door as soon as the bell rings, she even caught him turning around when she was walking on his direction yesterday and speed-walk away. It was truly absurd, anyone who didn't know better would think Love was the one who kayoed him.

However, she wasn't giving up, call her stubborn but it hasn't even been a week, besides, her mothers always thought her to say thank you when needed, and she felt like she needed to thank him. She'll give it another week, if he keeps dodging her then she'll just send him a letter through Hermione or something.

Climbing the dreaded steps of the west tower, Love finally arrived at the owlery, cursing herself for forgetting her robes when she entered the owlery, for the circular room was rather chilly due to the lack of glass on the plethora of windows on the tower. She quickly went to find a school owl, trying not to cringe when she accidentally stepped on the bone of a mouse and they crunch under her shoe, picking a grey barn owl with big black eyes. Love fed him some of the peanuts Padma gives Akash before giving it to the letters, muttering her home address.

Love pats the owl on the head as it nips the last of the peanuts. "Thank you,"

"Pretty owl," A voice suddenly said, making Love jolt out of her skin with a gasp. She snapped her head to the owner of the voice, startled and found a familiar Hufflepuff boy, it was Ernie Macmillan, the blonde was awkwardly standing near the exit, with his hands tucked in the trousers pockets.

"Bloody Rowena, you scare the living magic out of me," Love breaths out, holding a hand to her heart.

Ernie's round cheeks began to change colour, from pale to crimson, "I'm sorry, It wasn't my intention to startle you."

"It's fine," Love lets out a breathy chuckle, trying to get her heart to beat normally again, "You just caught me by surprise, that's all."

"Right," Ernie nodded, he bit his lips and stayed quiet making Love think he was done speaking, so she turned back to the owl as it soared out of the tower with the letters clutched on its peak.

"You have a pretty owl,"

Erinies words made her turn from the window to where he was still standing at the entrance, Love huffs a laugh, shaking her head. "That's one of the school's owls, I don't own any... though I probably should,"

"Oh, yes, well, it'll make your life easier, I supposed," Ernie said, walking into the cold owlery. "I mean, I wouldn't know really, I've never used the school's owl before, I do own an owl, a Long-eared owl,"

Love hums, she nodded in acknowledgement, "Nice... though, I can't say I know much about owls to know anything about them."

"My owl it's really impressive, she's one of the fastest birds there is, not to mention her hunting ability, truly, my owl is of the top three most elegant owls in Hogwarts." The boy proudly praises his owl, Love even notices a change in his chest, a puff that wasn't there before.

"Woah, your owl sounds cool, is she here?" Love asks, looking at the many owls on the walls.

Ernie's puff chest deflated a bit, he purses his lips. "Eh- not- not right now, I sent her away this morning."

"Oh," Love blinks, a bit confused. "Then... why are you here?"

Ernie glances at the owl-dropping covered floor, away from her as his cheeks turn crimson once again, "I, well, I saw you in the hallway and I wanted to speak with you,"

"Me? Why?" Love asks, frowning in confusion, wrapping her arms around herself as a gush of chilly air pass through the windows of the tower.

She's confused as to why he followed her all the way here, last she remembers she hasn't spoken to him in a few weeks, what did they talk about? Hell, she couldn't remember but it must have been important if he climb all those stairs to talk to her.

"I heard what happen, with Potter..." Ernie told her, switching his weight between his legs.

Love frowns deepened, is that what he needed to talk to me about? "Yeah... but I'm alright now."

"It must have been awful,"

"It was an accident," Love bit her lips. Ernie was shifting nervously on his feet, and it was making her anxious. "Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?"

Ernie shook his head fervently, turning redder than before "No, no, I just wanted to– to erm... are you going to Hogsmeade and would you like to go with me?"

Love felt the anxiety Ernie was subconsciously sending her skyrocket at the question that left his mouth. Suddenly, she remembers the talk she had with Hanna Abbot in transfiguration class weeks ago.

"I..." Love gulped down her anxiety, she hadn't thought about it, with everything that has happen it skipped her mind and now she has to make a quick decision, "I was planning on going with Padma and Emmanuel,"

"But you are always with them, if you tell them you're going on a date they'll understand, surely," Ernie persists, taking a few steps towards her yet keeping space between them.

Love bit her lips, glancing away. She liked Ernie, he was nice, she knows he was smart and cute, and all the interactions she has had with him were pleasant enough, still, she hardly knows him, which is why this is so surprising for her, and stressing at the same time. She didn't want him to feel rejected but she didn't want to accept his invitation either.

"Well, I- I supposed they could but–" Before she could finish her thought, Ernie took another step towards her, making her feel slightly trapped.

"Is that a yes?" He asks with a large smile stretching on his face.

Before Love realize it, her head was moving, in a short series of up and down. She was nodding, "Why not? It could be fun."

And it could be, right? She should give it a go.

"Great, that's excellent." Ernie's smile was large, and Love almost could see all his teeth, he took the last steps closer to her and grabbed her hand which compared to his, was frozen but Ernie didn't seem to notice. "We should meet at the entrance, that is where McGonagall is going to take us to the village."

"Sure, yeah... okie-dokie." Love chuckles awkwardly, now she was the one shifting on her feet.

Ernie nodded, letting go of her hand. "Grand!! Well, I'll see you then,"

"In a while crocodile," Love hold her thumbs up as he left the tower.

When she knew he was no longer in hearing distance, Love sighs loudly, closing her eyes, and running a hand over her face, "Why did I just say no?" She slaps her forehead repeatedly, "Why? Why? Why?" She then groans. "In a while crocodile? Thumbs up? For fucks sake what's wrong with me?"

🤍

Harry Potter has a gift, and no, it's not his innate magic or his Quidditch skills, or even his talent with Wizarding chest which may not be as great as Ron's or his mother it was still respectable, no, none of that was his gift, nothing but his ability for things to always somehow go wrong for him, for bad things to happen.

It is a proven theory now, is it not?

First year, the year where he has supposed to make friends, get to know Hogwarts, and cause mischief because why not? Harry got caught up with the philosopher stone mess, almost got eaten, asphyxiate by plants, was attacked by giant pieces of chess and faced Voldemort for the first– or well, the second time in his life. Second year, once again he was supposed to make friends, focus on Quidditch and his studies, and cause some actual mischief, all that got thrown away the moment he talked to that sodding snake, and everyone thought he was the Slytherin heir, not to mention he yet again was closed to being eaten alive and face Voldemort for a third time, a younger version of him but still. Now, this year didn't start the best, not when the man who sold his parents to Voldemort escaped the unescapable prison, but nevertheless, Harry didn't let that stop him, he still wanted to have a peaceful year, go to Hogsmeade with the friends he managed to make, finally win the Quidditch cup, now that his uncle was here perhaps apply himself more when it comes to his studies, and if it all went well, ask Love Emerson on a date... but like aforementioned, he has a knack for things to never happen the way he wanted them to.

But how- in merlin's name- was it possible for things to go so flipping badly?

There he was, talking to his long-time crush, she was smiling at him, actually smiling at him, talking to him, laughing with him and then, before he knew it, Harry went and knocked her out. And if that's not the worst thing that could have happened, half of Hogwarts knew about it too, and they were whispering, which is something Harry was used to at this point of his life, however, this time was way worst. Those whispers were serving as a reminder of what he had done, not that he could ever forget about it, it's not every day you broke the girl you fancy nose or get her unconscious.

"Harry, mate can you lend me a quill?" Ron asks, looking down at his damaged quill. "I left my good one back in our room... Harry?"

Ron turn his head to the side, where his best friend was supposed to be sitting doing his charms essay, only to find an empty space making him frown.

"Oh honestly," Hermione mumbled as Harry came up from under the table, glancing about before seating on his former chair, ignoring Hermione's statement.

Ron looks at him perplexed, yet not surprised. "What in Godric's name are you doing?"

"I just thought I saw..." Harry didn't need to finish, both his friends knew who he was speaking about.

"Emerson?" Ron scoffs, shaking his head, "Mate, we already scour the library. She's not here."

They were sitting at a table near the back of the library, almost hidden but still present, per Harry's request. They were writing their charms essay about the Carpe Retractum Spell for their next class.

Hermione sighs, her eyes leaving the pages of the book to Harry. "You need to stop avoiding her, Harry."

"And say what?" It's been almost a week since the incident and all Harry has done is avoid her, because how is he supposed to face her now? "I doubt she wants me anywhere near her now, anyways."

"You can start with an apology, have you done that yet?" Hermione told him, sending him a look.

Harry groans, head falling on the table and shakes it. He couldn't face her. So much for a Gryffindor's bravery, huh?

"Reckon he's afraid next time he speaks with her he'll end up giving her a shinner," Ron mutters, sniffling a laugh.

"Ron!" Hermione scolds him while Harry hit his head on the table.

"Sorry Harry, but It was horrible but funny to watch," Ron said, chuckling softly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turns to Harry, a sympathetic gaze in her eyes. "Harry, I really think you should talk to her, I am sure she knows it was an accident."

"Hermione, I can't—"

"Yes, you can." Hermione interrupted Harry, "Just go up to her and apologize, simple as that,"

Harry scoffs a humourless laugh, lifting his head to look at her. "Last time I went up to her she ended up in the Hospital Wing. I don't fancy a repetition of that."

Ron snorted again, taking Harry's quill for his use.

"It's very unlikely that it happens again," Hermione said, trying to reason with him.

"Yeah, well, I'll rather not risk it." Said Harry, shaking his head.

"But–"

"Leave it, Hermione. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Hermione pursed her lips, it was obvious she has something to say but she respected his wishes and said nothing. She turns back to her essay.

"Come of it, mate, this will blow over soon enough," Ron told him, nudging his shoulder in comfort.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement of his words, yet said nothing. It won't blow over any time soon, at least not for him. He will be mortified by it for the rest of his life.

A/N: Hope you enjoy it. Tell me what you think about it.

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kanene-yaaay · 2 years

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Laughter, Learning and Motives to Keep Going

Alternative Title: What it means to be in a club (maybe the true improvement are the friends we make along the way)

Kanene’s notes: I am once again thinking about the tickle potential of the Body Improvement Club in Mob Pyscho 100 and my ideas aren’t very organized but picture with me:

(These mini fics contains Lee!Mob and Ler!Body Improvement Club. Around 2.500 words)

[~*~]

* Pokes and prods while Mob is stretching to correct his posture or attract his attention in case he forgets a step or exercise.

[...]

Shigeo pulled his arms upwards, ignoring the light tremble of his limbs at the strange, extra strain he was putting them under. He wasn’t used to the series of stretches they were supposed to do before and after every exercise routine. It felt weird, if Shigeo was being honest, muscles that he even didn’t know that existed sent sparks of a beginning of a pain and he kept staring fixedly at the leader at every couple of seconds to be sure he was doing it right, the anxiety nagging the back of his brain being subdued by the warmth that blossomed on his chest at the realization that everyone from the group kept doing the same step longer than necessary so Shigeo could follow them properly.

Such kindness...

Musashi Goda, Hideki Yamamura, Hiroshi Kumagawa, Ryorei Shimura, Jun Sagawa...

Shigeo took a deep breath, a strong determination shining clearly on his eyes. He won’t disappoint them! Nor let all their efforts be in vain! He would do his best here to become stronger every day!

“Kageyama,” Lost in his own thoughts, the dark haired student didn’t realize the leader walking in his direction, the rest of the group having already moved on to the next step while Shigeo froze on the first one.

“Kageyama!” His tune naturally became more energetic, although not carrying the slightest heat on it, but being perfect to break Shigeo from his trance, body barely jumping on the same place before his attention focused on Goda.

“Y-ye-” His attention, however, didn’t come quick enough to prevent the twin pokes that attacked his underarms, a quiet, high pitched squeak leaving his lips at it while his arms fastly shot down to protect the ticklish area, wide but not alarmed eyes watching the leader attentively.

In response, he received the same enthusiastic smile and energetic shout that accompanied the whole club like a treadmark. “Don’t forget to also stretch your arms downwards, Kageyama! It will be important for your wrists and biceps!”

Now Shingeo’s eyes shone with curiosity and understanding, the student quickly followed to do what was said. “Right!”

Goda nodded, his smile tingled with something a tad playful and a tad a expression Mob couldn’t quite place still on his face, before turning back to the rest of the group. “BODY IMPROVEMENT CLUB!”

Excited shouts followed his and Mob felt a content (with drops of tickly) feeling quirk his lips upwards.

...

Such occurrence, however, wasn’t restricted to his first day. Actually, as weeks and weeks went by, Shigeo lost the count of all times that similar attacks followed him, especially during stretching time, when his mind seemed to wander most and there was too much steps, moves and body parts to be aware at once.

A quick squeeze on his stomach to remind him to pull his leg the closer he could to his chest when preparing to run with them across the city.

(”Don’t worry. You’ll know how to do those even while sleeping soon.”

“Thank you.”

Yamamura didn’t add anything to his previous observation, giving Shigeo one more glance before relaxing and nodding, going back to the comfortable silence that followed them as they continued the exercises.)

A sneaky scribble delivered by Shimura on his unprotected neck on a particular day when his muscles were too stiff and his frown too strong.

(”Don’t pull your head towards your shoulder so forcefully! Your hand should only rest on the side of your head while weighting it slightly downwards. If it hurts, it means you’re doing it wrong!”

“Really?! I understand now, thank you.”

“Don’t try to bow while doing it either!”)

Some friendly prodding in between his shoulder blades while rotating his wrists from left to right when he was too much concentrated on counting the moves to realize the tiredness was weighing his shoulders down.

(”Try to not let your posture slouch, ok? That can prevent some back pain further in the way.” Kumugawa smiled and did a thumbs up when Shigeo corrected his stance, looking at him with a wobbly grin that too fastly went back to his natural neutral face. That boy was fun.

“Alright!”)

And, as warmth, playfulness and a kind type of care followed each poke and each word in his direction, Mob couldn’t really bring himself to mind the plentiful squeaks, titters and snorts that such a friendly (and strangely effective) way to call his attention would bring.

[...]

* Quick scribbles and light squeezes when Mob is looking as if he needs some encouragement to keep going

Breath in. Breath out.

The sun was bright and hot and every patch of his skin seemed to be completely overcome by a sudden wave of fever. His legs were starting to hurt. Tiredness was beginning to bite at his ankles, the concrete under his sneakers feeling harder than ever and still his steps began to grow more and more inconsistent.

Breath. Breath in and out.

He was getting slower. Again. The sun was so bright. The rest of the club were now getting way too far. Slow. He was simply too slow.

They didn’t even get to the middle of their track.

Too slow. Too bright. Too exhausted.

Why all he was was being so w-

A couple of fingers tased his sides, not ceasing their attack even when the surprise tickling made his step falter and a mix of hiccups and giggles to flow from his lips. Little ticklish shocks spread all across his torso, bringing more and more tired titters to bounce in a giddy energy on his chest, the sensation was funny, silly and quite maddening, making the smile on his face only grow bigger.

His body tried to squirm from one side to another in an attempt of dislodging the offending, wiggling fingers, but they kept their attack, only changing to a series of pokes and a couple more of squeezes as he turned around to see who was responsible for that.

“Do not focus just on your pain, Kageyama.” Onigawara also looked tired, his breath coming as short pants and his usual half serious and half scolding (no, he wasn’t soft because the little guy here trying his best, he was not. Shut it) losing its usual sharpness at the adorable scene of the shorter one smiling and trying to duck his face to hide it on his shoulders while still keeping his running pace. “Or you won’t be able to see your goal getting close at every moment!”

A muffled snort flew from his lips, more hiccuped giggles quickly following it. It was hard to concentrate on Onigawara’s words, Shigeo came to realize, especially when the other found a rather sensitive spot way too close to his belly and not far enough from his sides and that made him sprint forward in a sudden bout of energy. A smirk took over Onigawara’s face as he too sped up to accompany his new rhythm, more pokes and prods urging the shorter to not give up.

“See? We just need to keep going on. What’s up with that frown from before, huh? We still need to catch up with them!”

And Shigeo nodded, that bright shine on his eyes again, the remaining adrenaline and phantom feeling of fingers dancing on his sides still making a silly, tiny smile paint his face.

Onigawara nodded back, ceasing his attack. “Good.”

He quickened his pace, gaze still locked with Shigeo as he went. “Do not stay behind, Kageyama.”

For a good measure, he wiggled his fingers, watching with amusement when the act made the other let out a small squeak, before also trying to run faster.

“BODY IMPROVEMENT CLUB!”

With the shout breaking his concentration, Onigawara saluted the smaller, turning back to the group and trying to catch up with them.

Time to overcome his own challenges as well.

[...]

* Group tickles when he reaches a goal or overcomes a challenge!! :D

He did it.

His face was relaxed, his shoulders seemed free of any weight to pull them down and a tiny smile was plastered on his face, clear to anyone who wanted to see, his chest going up and down with each erratic breath that steadily came back to a much slow rhythm.

Kumugawa’s face appeared on his vision field. “Are you ok there, Kageyama?”

With all the strength he could muster, Shigeo lifted a thumbs up, not taking too long before his arm fell back to accompany the rest of his body on the grass, but he could care less about how much dirt was getting on his clothes.

He did it.

It was already evening, now. The sun setting bringing a nice breeze to play around the space, making relief to flood across his entire body. The blond snickered, replying him with his own thumbs up before going back to the rest of the club, who was enjoying their contentment for finishing a good and challenging day of exercise. Water was being distributed and chatters were filling the entire scenario with the typical exhausted excitement that always fell like a blanket on them after their routine.

Shigeo closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the conversation and peace dancing freely in the air surround him in a rare moment of calmness. A moment when power, spirits, fears, love and insecurities didn’t matter. A moment when his mind was finally quiet. A moment when the only important thing in the world was the knowledge that he did it.

He finally finished the track. Without passing out even once.

He did it.

He was really glad.

The Kageyama had no idea of how much time he spent like this, but when he opened his eyes it was to find a cold water bottle a few inches from his face and a hand on his shoulder pulling him to a sitting position. With a satisfied hum and a hoarse “Thank you” he realized that his body’s ache had subdued a lot in the meantime.

“Come on, Kageyama!” The hand patted his shoulder with an enthusiasm and force that made him bend slightly to the left. Shigeo looked at the leader with a question in his gaze. “Just the final stretching and then we can get our things!”

“Ok.” He agreed, already pulling himself to stand and following them through the steps that, indeed, were becoming easier and easier to remember with each day.

At the end, Sagawa was the one who broke the silence.

“Today was the first day you stuck with us until the end without passing out, right?” His usual neutral face checked the shorter, as if being sure he wasn’t about to fall and prove him wrong at any moment.

“It was.” Shigeo looked at his own hand, as if he could visualize just with that how much different, stronger he got since the beginning of his training. “I also kept you in my sight all the time.” A shy proudness tip toed in his words.

“Congrats.” Sagawa completed and Yamamura nodded in agreement. The training was working out.

“YES! This is a very important moment! We should CELEBRATE!!” Goda flexed, more energy sparking from him at the prospect of seeing someone conquer their challenges. Enthusiastic screams of affirmation were fast to follow his words, Kumagawa and Shimura punching the air while Onigawara lifted his water bottle with a ‘yeah’.

Blink. And suddenly everyone was much closer. Blink. Shigeo was being lifted and thrown in the air multiple times, their congratulations shouts being mingled by the momentarily sensation of him floating on the air before falling onto their hands only to be thrown again.

It reminded him of the times he and Ritsu were kids taking turns to be thrown and catched by their dad, senseless laughter flooding the space.

Shigeo relaxed. It was fun.

And then it didn’t take long before he was jolted back to stand on his feets, legs wobbling for a second, but firmly locking himself in place when a wave of reassuring and excited pats washed over him, on his shoulders, on his back, even his head wasn’t forgotten, his hair probably sticking at every possible direction from how much it was ruffled.

He had seen this before, when Onigawara managed to accompany them for a whole day or Goda created and succeeded at his own new intense exercise routine.

He had seen it all before, even partaking at the (ritual? Party? Celebration?) with his own shy and careful pats once or twice.

That is why he knew exactly what would happen when the first scribble hit his neck.

He didn’t try to hold or stop the hands that began attacking him, only hugging his own sides and ducking his head downwards as his cheeks puffed out in a poor attempt of containing his laughter.

It wasn’t very effective, though, not when there were fingers worming their way under his arms so they could scratch freely across his ribs, drumming on the horribly ticklish space right in between them that made a series of muffled yelps to escape from his mouth.

Or when someone - probably Onigawara, his mind unhelpfully supplied - found, again, that spot that connected his sides and stomach, carefully and attentively pinching every single inch of it over and over again until stray titters were floating in the space.

Or when a curious poke to his belly finally broke his barrier and brought all the kind of snorts, squeaks and unashamed laughter that made his face hot all over again, redness running from his cheeks to the tip of his ears as he curled even more on himself, shoulders shaking and beaming at the tickly shocks running across his spine, filling his nerves and making him feel like electricity followed every touch, leaving trails of tingling behind.

All of this, of course, only seemed to encourage his peers, more squeezes and scribbles being delivered on his sides, ribs, belly and even his ears (which fished a high pitched wheeze from him and some amused snickers and happy chatter from the group), however as fast the attack started, it ended, the last pokes and remanent giggles dancing together and keeping the content, relaxed smile on his face.

With his eyes still shining with mirth (and a few non-shed tears) he stared at the group, almost ducking his head again at the pride and happiness that was greatly and unashamedly reflected right back at him.

He did it.

Shigeo really did it.

They were really glad.

#Ler!Yamamura #Mp100 tickles #Mob Pyscho 100 tickling #Ler!Shimura #Mp100 tickling #Ler!Onigawara #Ler!Kumugawa #Ler!Goda #Mob Pyscho 100 tickles #Lee!Mob #Ticklish!Shigeo #I loved pe when I was in school because it was such a stress reliver and I can't hep but be enamoured w the Body Improvement Club-#-in the anime because!!!!! They are!!! SO supporting!! And cool!!!!!#They care so much about Mob and respect his limits while cheering him to keep trying I am weak I am WEAK #me writing these scenarios is me physically preventing myself form watching the 3 season before the dub come because HOLY GOSH #I LOVE THE BRAZILIAN PORTUGUESE DUB SO MUUUUCH #The BIC deserves more attention and HERE I AM #MAKING CONTENT #TO GIVE THEM THE ATTENTION AND CARE AND FRIENDSHIP THEY DESERVE #and dying too because smiley Mob is simply everything to me and thank you very much #bruh that must be the firts time in.... 3 years that I don't make my first t-fic of a new fandom be about one character admitting-#-they like to be tickled #anyway tbh I feel like their personalities here are a bit vague and a bit ooc but I liked the idea so -w-#hello have you considered tickles as a reward today? in this presentation I will-#Kanene's fanfic #Kanene's fic

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cyrille-leclair-de-fontaine · 6 months

Text

Parallel Timeline Convergence Context

[Scaramod and I were writing fanfiction for our blorbos while they were on haitus, so please point out any references that confuse you, and we will provide context. Neither of us are good at keeping the separate universes straight lol.]

[VERY long snip below.]

Too many years of keeping himself alive had left Cyrille extremely attuned to his surroundings, and the static sound was enough to stir him from his light sleep. He is still for a moment, counting heads in the dim light, and notices that one of the hammocks is empty. Slowly, carefully, he extracts himself from next to Scara and locates his cane, slipping out of the room as quietly as possible. He pauses as he enters the living room, frowning at seeing Sakura awake.

"Hey… what's wrong?"

Sakura didn’t seem to hear him at first, but it was clear that they were the source of the static noise. In front of them was some kind of large screen- completely holographic, and it was a bright white.

"Sakura…?" Cautiously, Cyrille inches forward and around so he is visible. "Hey. Sakura."

Sakura flinches, dropping the thing they were holding- which was the cloak that Chero had made for them. They had been holding the end part of it and rubbing their thumb over the white flowers that had been sewed onto the bottom.

They turned their head to face Cyrille, blinking. “Oh- my apologies. Did I wake you up?” They tap the screen with one of their fingers and it dims. “You can go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

"You don't look or sound fine to me. Usually being up in the middle of the night at all does not equate to fine."

He shuffles over to sit on the other end of the couch, peering at them with a squint as if he could figure out what's wrong by staring at them hard enough.

Sakura shrugs, moving the screen to their other side- the side Cyrille wasn’t on- and dimming it some more. “I typically don’t fall asleep until around 3 to 4 in the morning. Thoughts keep me awake.”

"Ah." He leans back, giving them some space. "I would say that's unhealthy, but I think it would be hypocritical of me to call you out for something like that."

“Everything we nag each other about in this house is hypocritical. We’re all just kind of mirrors to each other.” They reach forward and pick up their cloak again, resuming the motion of rubbing their thumb against the white flowers.

"Would it help to talk about any of those thoughts keeping you up?"

They’re silent for a bit. “The white screen is a part of another one of my abilities. It’s basically an audio version of all my memories. I may not seem like it, but I can be quite forgetful. There are times where I couldn’t even remember my own name.”

They cross their legs so that they’re sitting in a criss-cross position.

“So usually every night, I play the most significant memories. Or I start with what I could first remember on Sunday, then play through all the memories up until the next sunday. When I listen to them, I’m able to remember what my brain keeps trying to force me to forget.”

They sigh. “I’ve just gotten to the memories I usually hate listening to, for some reason. It’s nerving me slightly.”

"...that's pretty brave of you. Trying to remember." He tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'm missing seven years, myself, and I've always been too scared to try and get them back. Based on how I am now, it can't have been anything good."

“I’d rather remember and be able to process it than forget and never know why I’m always sad when I look at these flowers,” Sakura gestures to the white flowers on the cloak. “They’re egret orchids. Chero’s talked about them before- and so has someone else, but I can’t remember who.” They pause. “It is your life, you know. You can always try and get them back if you really wanted- I could even help you if you’d like. But I’d recommend not doing so right now- you have enough going on in your life as is.”

He chuckles dryly. "I'm not sure I want those years back. Again, they can't have been anything good. I had just lost everything, before my memory cuts out. And I don't have much more now than I did then, except a few handy skills that are the sole reason I've been able to stay alive. I'd much prefer to leave those memories wherever they are hiding."

“Your choice. But do remember that if you ever want to know those seven years, you can just come ask me. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

"Mm. I doubt it. But thanks." He turns his head to look at them again. "I came out here to check on you, when did it get turned around?"

“I’ve been told I have that effect on people. I’m good at changing the topic.” They laugh a bit. “But really, I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

"Will be, but aren't now. Is there any way I can help with that?"

They turn their head back to the white screen, which makes a little static chirp. “If you really want to, you can stay while I listen to this. Then you can help if something goes wrong.”

"Sure, I'll stay." He shifts a bit closer to bump his shoulder against theirs in support. "I'm ready when you are."

Sakura nods, pushing the screen back so they could click a few things on it. The static grows louder before the audio starts playing.

“What? You want something from me?” That’s Sakura’s voice. It sounds significantly different though.

“Uhm- no.” Younger Chero’s voice.

“What’s your name? Mine is-“

“Chero.” Audio-Sakura cuts off Audio-Chero before he can finish his sentence. “Don’t act like you weren’t the most famous kid in the village. I know who you are.”

“Most famous kid in the village?” Audio-Chero sounds genuinely confused.

“Yeah. You were the adults favorite. Dunno why, cause it’s pretty clear you got something wrong in that head of yours.”

The audio stops there, which causes real-Sakura to stare at the screen with a frown.

Cyrille just sits silently, glancing sidelong at Sakura's expression. It's not his place to comment on what he hears. He's just here for support.

Sakura taps something else on the screen, and the static noise echoes through the house again.

“I fucking said we shouldn’t have stayed there. Didn’t I? Didn’t I literally say that?” Sakura again, but they sounded a bit older from the first recording. “This- oh, I’m so fucking glad that bitch Jay died. She deserved it. I really wish I could’ve killed her myself.”

There’s a pause that makes it seem like Sakura had turned to face another person in the memory. “And you just followed a person like that? Did she do that to other people too?”

“Not that I know of.” This voice wasn’t Chero or Sakura. It was a lot softer and more calm, contrasting how angry Audio-Sakura sounded. Real-world Sakura tightens their grip on the end of the cloak by the slightest bit.

“Not that you know of, Leia. She totally could’ve assaulted other people like she did to Chero. She’s worse than Rhea!”

“I wouldn’t say worse than Rhea, but Jay was still a fucking ass.” Sakura muttere.

Leia on the audio sighs, and a noise was made that sounded like she was patting Sakura’s shoulder. “She’s gone now. She can’t hurt Chero anymore. Isn’t that a good thing, blossom?”

Audio-Sakura sighs. “Yeah, I guess. But I’m still mad about it. Even if she didn’t do anything to me- I just feel bad for Chero.”

“He’ll be okay. Shaken up, sure, but he’s alive. Most of the time, people like Jay kill their victims so that they don’t get in trouble.”

Leia sighs too, for the second time. “Well, fuck her then. I hope she goes to whatever hell may exist in this world. I’m gonna be a much better leader than she was. If anything, I’m getting everyone the fuck out of this hellhole.”

“Everyone is a lot of people.”

“Well- okay. If not everyone, then at least you and Chero. We’ll kill Rhea, take her power, and then use it to bust out of whatever illusion thing we’re stuck in, and then go home and burn our village to the ground for allowing kids to be sacrificed. That reasonable enough for you?”

Leia laughs. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, my dear.”

The audio ends.

Sakura stares down at the egret orchids. Cyrille silently offers his hand for them to hold if they want to, and they subconsciously take it, tapping the screen a third time.

The static plays once again.

“Leia?” Sakura again. Slightly older, much closer to the verge of tears. “Leia. Leia?”

There’s no reply.

“You fucker. You promised me. I told you not to go, Leia. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

Real-world Sakura’s eyes narrow slightly.

“You motherfucker. Why did I let myself love you if I knew you were going to leave me?” Audio-Sakura sounds like they’re holding back tears.

“Sakura- Sakura!” Chero this time. His voice hasn’t changed all too much- if anything, it sounds like his current one. “What happ-.. Leia? Did-“

“I’m going to kill everybody here, Chero. I’m going to find who did this and make sure they fucking pay. She didn’t even deserve to die.”

A noise is made as if Sakura had stood up.

“Sakura, don’t do anything you’ll regret later. I know you’re mad about Leia, but- but killing an entire camp full of other kids isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Okay? Killing her didn’t solve anything, but someone in this fucking hellhole did it anyway! Not everything has to solve something else, dimwit.”

Audio-Chero and Audio-Sakura are both silent.

“Where did you put your gun?”

“I’m not telling you. You are not killing anyone.”

“What are you gonna do if I try? You can’t stop me, fuckface. We both know who’s the stronger one here.”

“Sakura-“

“Move.”

Audio-Sakura pushes away Chero, and they begin walking off somewhere.

“Leia wouldn’t want you to do this.”

Audio-Sakura stops walking.

“Oh, so you’re playing that fucking card now? Okay, riddle me this, since you’re so fucking smart.” They turn around and begin walking back towards Chero, each step more and more aggressive. “Leia wouldn’t have wanted me to kill everyone, right? That’s what you said? Well Leia also wouldn’t have wanted to die. Leia wouldn’t have wanted to leave us- leave me behind. Leia wouldn’t have wanted to break into The Office if she knew she wasn’t going to break back out. And yet- guess who’s body is right fucking there!

“We can’t get everything we want, Chero. I’m learning this now- and you should too, before the same thing happens to you.”

They turn around again, and they actually get a couple paces farther. The audio goes to static for a bit, but then voices could be heard within the static.

“I said leave me alone, Chero. I’m doing them a favor. No one’s making it out of this place alive- might as well speed up the fucking process.”

“Sakura, please. You’re going to regret this, I promise you.”

“No I’m not. You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve watched you in the village- I’ve watched you here. I’ve been around you for what could be considered centuries now. I know you, Sakura. You aren’t a murderer.”

“…”

Receding footsteps.

“Sakura-“

“Let go of me.”

Cyrille gives Sakura's hand a gentle squeeze, trying not to draw any connections that feel too familiar. Why did I let myself love you if I knew you were going to leave me, huh? She didn’t even deserve to die.

No. No thinking tonight. Just be here for Sakura… Anything else can come later. Or not at all, preferably.

“Let go of me, Chero.”

“Sakura. Just listen to m-“

“I said let go!”

A gunshot.

Then the audio ends.

Cyrille glances over at Sakura again, trying to gauge their emotional state. Does he need to coax them to bed? Wake Chero?

Sakura is silent for a while, staring down at the egret orchids. Their grip on the cloak had tightened even more.

“I remember what happened after that,” they say. They can’t tell if they’re talking to Cyrille or to someone who wasn’t even there. “I didn’t shoot Chero. My arm had shot to the left at the last minute, so the bullet just barely missed his head. He left me alone after that, and I ended up killing everyone else at the camp.” A pause. “One hundred and seventy six children died because of me. Because I was too mad to think straight.

“And then I made my way back to Chero, and we both cried for a while until Rhea showed up. That’s when she told us that everything we had gone through was part of a carefully controlled social experiment. That placing over 200 kids in some life or death survival scenario was just a test to see if anyone would come out alive. After over 500 centuries, she said, two kids had finally made it past the first test. Take a wild guess who those two kids were.”

That last part was most likely directed at Cyrille.

“I had never been so mad in my entire life. I had lost Leia for what was basically nothing. I wanted to lash out, I wanted to scream and cry, I wanted to kill Rhea right then and there- more than I wanted to when I was first sacrificed.

“But my own anger scared me. And it still does. If I could kill 176 people without a second thought, doesn’t that make me a danger to society? I had told those 176 people that I would try my best to protect them, but I killed every single one of them without mercy- and it turned out that Rhea was the one who killed Leia. I had almost killed Chero because I was so mad at him for what turned out to be nothing.

“So I had just smothered my anger and complied. I think that’s when I started to forget important things like this- all of my anger is tied to everything that happened in that realm. In order to bury my anger, I had to bury any memories that would make me want to lash out again. I didn’t want to be the cause of another mass murder.”

They fall silent again, lost in thought.

The screen beeped in what could be considered a sad tone.

Cyrille waits patiently for them to finish speaking, still holding their hand. His expression is subdued, and his voice low when he speaks again. "I can't imagine how difficult that was for you. I know I'm not qualified to give advice to something on that scale, but I can promise to be here to listen."

Sakura doesn’t process Cyrille’s words until a minute or two after they’re spoken, and they respond by gently squeezing Cy’s hand. Then, they lift their head and turn to the screen. “There’s one more left for tonight. Do you want to go back to bed now?”

"After hearing that… no offense, but I'd rather not leave you alone. I'll stay, if you don't mind."

“Okay. That’s fine.”

Sakura lifts their hand and taps the screen a final time. The static fills the house again- it lasts slightly longer than the times before.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.”

“Happy birthday, dear Sakura. Happy birthday to you!”

It was a mix of Leia and Small-Chero singing. Leia’s voice was louder, though.

“I told you guys you don’t have to do this. Today’s just another day.” Sakura’s voice.

“Another day that happens to be the day you were born! What kind of people would we be if we didn’t celebrate?” Leia laughs.

“Decent people still. I wouldn’t be offended if you forgot.”

“Well, I would.” Chero says. “Shouldn’t you celebrate a person’s birth if you care about them?”

“I mean, considering what kind of environment we’re stuck in, I don’t think it’s safe to have a big celebration or whatever.” Sakura scoffs.

“It’s not a big celebration. We’ve already sung, so we’ll give you the gifts we made, then if you really want, we can just continue today like it really is just a normal day.” Leia says. You can hear the smile in her voice.

“Fine. Since I know you’ll throw a fit if I don’t comply.” Sakura sighs. Leia laughs again.

“Chero, you can go first. I have to actually get mine because I may have left it back at camp.” Leia chuckles nervously, and there are footsteps in the audio as if she had run off.

“If she gets hurt on the way, I’m going to kick her into a ravine.” Sakura grumbles. Chero doesn’t seem to hear this.

“Well- here you go. It took me a good while, but I handmade it myself.” Chero says. He sounds happier than in the other recordings- even happier than he does in the real world.

There’s a bit of silence, implying the motion of Sakura taking whatever gift was given to them.

“I didn’t know you could sew.” Sakura comments. It sounds like they’re trying to hide the happiness in their voice, and is absolutely failing at it.

“My mom taught me because she thought I was gonna grow up into a woman and become a dressmaker or something. But I guess it came in handy.”

“..Thanks. I like it. Did you add the white flowers at the end?”

“I did, but it was Leia’s idea. Something about different symbolisms and such. She told me a popular interpretation of white egret orchids is the phrase ‘My thoughts will follow you into your dreams’. I can’t confirm or deny that information, because I didn’t know about Egret Orchids until she told me about them.” Chero laughs softly.

“Of course she did. That idiot.” Sakura says, but despite the words spoken. their voice was full of affection.

“Okay! I’m back and I got the thing!” Leia’s voice reappears on the recording, along with the sound of approaching footsteps. “Close your eyes, blossom. And give me your left hand.”

“..I’m not going to question it. You won’t give me an answer anyway.” Sakura says, sighing again.

There’s silence on the recording once more.

“Okay! Open!” Leia sounds very excited.

More silence, but it doesn’t last long.

“Dear, you know I don’t like the color yellow. That’s your favorite color, not mine.” Sakura sounds amused.

“I know, silly. But look at mine! We’re matching! I got Chero to teach me to sew so I could make them. Did you know making ribbon like this is actually hard?”

The screen’s white glare falters for a moment, and an image pops up on it. What could be presumed to be Sakura’s hand had a pastel yellow ribbon tied on their wrist in the shape of a bow.

Holding that hand was presumably Leia’s hand- a darker shade of skin, but it was more like a pastel brown. On Leia’s hand was a pastel pink ribbon- tied in the same fashion as the one Sakura was wearing, except on the right hand instead of the left.

The image stays up as the audio continues.

“So you two just bonded over sewing stuff and didn’t even invite me? Wow, I’m truly offended.” Sakura said, their voice full of playful sarcasm.

“Oh, please. You would’ve gotten distracted halfway through. And you didn’t even see the cute little detail yet! Turn your hand over so you can see your wrist.” Leia’s emotions flow in a quick pattern- from partially annoyed to excited again within seconds.

There’s silence again.

“‘Heaven’?” Sakura reads, confused.

More silence.

“‘Blossom’!” Leia finishes. “Our little duo name! Since my name means ‘child of heaven’ and I always call you ‘blossom’. I was originally going to give you the pink one so it would correspond to you, but I decided to give you the yellow one instead. So whenever we’re apart, you can just look at the ribbon and think of me, and I can do the same when you go out to gather materials and stuff!”

Sakura is silent. Then, they sniff.

“Hey- why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?” Leia panicks.

“No, you dumbass. I love the gift. Thank you.” Sakura says through tears. Leia sighs in relief.

“Happy birthday, blossom. I love you.”

“Love you too, you absolute imbecile.”

The recording ends.

Slowly, Cyrille lets go of their hand to wrap an arm around their shoulders, offering silent support. He's never been good with words, and this is a situation so far removed from anything he's ever experienced, that he thinks it's probably best not to try.

Sakura hides their face in Cyrille’s side, fighting back every urge to cry in fear that they would get angry. “That’s the last birthday I remember celebrating. The last one that was mine, at least.” They mutter. “After that, January 4th really did just become another day.”

They fall silent once more.

Unsure how to comfort them, he mentally wrestles with himself, before offering tentatively, "I haven't ever really celebrated mine. It doesn't have to be a big deal if you don't want it to be. But… if you want, I think I have a couple cake recipes from Granny Rosa, and we could do a little something? Even though it's late for it now…"

“...okay. We can. I just want to lay here for a little while first, if that’s okay with you.”

"Take as long as you need." He tucks them close as much as he can, wishing that he could be even slightly more equipped for this. He seems to be helping, at least?

Sakura bumps their head against Cyrille’s side as a form of thanks- something that Chero had done earlier that day. They close their eyes and let their left hand hang outside of the hold.

As they do, the air around their hand shimmers slightly.

…

Huh?

Sakura opens their eyes again in confusion, staring down at their hand. They move it again as if testing something. The air moves in the same odd way as it did the first time.

...That’s odd. Is there some magic on it or something?

They internally check where their magic is currently being directed, and as they suspected- there’s some kind of magic on their hand.

“Hm,” they say out loud. “That’s weird.”

They remove the magic on their hand with an internal sigh, but then they freeze. No longer hidden by glamour, there was now a pastel yellow ribbon tied to Sakura’s left wrist.

"Is that…?" Cyrille trails off, a mirror ache in his chest for Sakura.

“It’s been here the entire time.” Sakura says, glancing back to the screen that was still displaying the image of Sakura and Leia’s hands. “This is what’s been eating up my magic this whole time. And I didn’t even know until now.”

Carefully, they turn their hand so that their wrist was in view.

Just as they suspected, the word “heaven” was sewed onto the wrist part of the ribbon in a darker shade of yellow.

“…”

Sakura curls into Cyrille’s side again and begins to cry.

He wraps his other arm around them, tucking them under his chin and beginning to gently rub their back. Again, words fall short. What could he possibly say that could compare to something that hurts this much, this deeply? But he can hold them, at least. Crying alone is always worse.

Sakura can’t bring themself to hold the hand with the ribbon on it, so they let it hang again as they silently cry. It hurts far too much for so many reasons. And they completely forgot all about her. What kind of person does that make them? Sakura closes their eyes as they cry, barely even moving.

They don’t see the slight blur of the air around them. They don’t see the soft white ‘shadow’ that leans against Sakura’s back with its eyes closed, wearing an expression that was just as sad as Sakura’s themselves.

They don’t see the ghostly hand that holds onto theirs, which is tied with a pastel pink ribbon.

The figure hums for a moment, then opens its eyes and blinks at Cyrille.

Leia mouths thank you before closing her eyes again and slowly fading away.

Slightly stunned, Cyrille stays quiet, certain that telling Sakura about that glimpse of a long-dead friend would only make them even more upset. But… well, if that ghost thanked him for this, he must be doing something right.

Sakura cries for a while longer, but then eventually they stop. They gently headbutt Cyrille to alert him that they’re okay now. At least, as okay as you can be after re-learning that you have a dead lover that was killed by your worst enemy.

#🌸 anon #alt world context

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canayams-art · 10 months

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yikes ik it's been a while, and trust me ive been meaning to talk more about qianqing, but the uni exams started and now i FINALLY found some free time (and a sticky note at the back of my brain reminding me) to talk 😭

also before anything SEASON 2 LOOKS SOOOO FREAKING GOOOD!! like in absolutely in love with mq and i thought i couldn't love him more but i was fortunately proven wrong ! also it dragged me back into fengqing so there's that hensndkeknd it only took few hot shots of fx and yeah i hate that i love them again but i do and there's nothing i can do about it but accept 😔✊ I HAD SUCH HIGH EXPECTATIONS FOR LQQ AND HE MET EVERY ONE OF THEM SJDJDJD HE LOOKS SO BABY and speaking of him, im sooooo curious what was your favorite lqq scene??

you seem to have read my thoughts when you answered my last ask because THOSE WERE EXACTLY THE SCENES I IMAGINED THEM IN!! mq nagging lqq about paperwork, friendly sparring, lqq sticking around mq during events in the heaven iejejekejej gods i wish i have more time so i can write something for them because this hasn't stopped itching my brain for weeks 😭

i also raise you that they go on missions together, because once mq gets comfortable and once he notices that lqq keeps inviting him, even if he doesn't need the help, he would invite lqq simply for the company!

lqq meeting fy on his purse of revenge could go into sooo many different directions!! like does lqq figure out fy is out on defending mq's name quest and is conflicted because he wants to help but also killing qr takes priority rn? does he try to convince fy to work together?? now i wanna explore every crevice of that meeting and make like thousands fics for it!!

(it's not out of the question, ive done aus out of my own aus! im sure if i find the time i could do this as well😭)

the thing about qiurong for me, as it is with many ships in big fandoms, it feels very forced ig by the fandom? i don't think im wording it correctly, but for me i usually don't end up liking many of those ships because it feels like people would just smush two characters together because they ran out of characters they can pair them with. and it's not necessarily a bad thing, but in this case the most im seeing from qiurong is fluffy family aus, which would never come to mind for me when i think about qr and lqq in a room together. again not a bad thing, not a bad ship, but personally not my cup of tea.

i do have to admit tho, im always kinda leaning towards more canon characterization, so i do have a particular tastes in ships i do ship and in definitely not one of the people who would read anything they can from the ships i like. so i think i wouldn't have gave up so quickly on quirong if i found something that suits my taste, because i do like both of their characters separately.

EXPLORING THE SIDE CHARACTERS RELATIONSHIPS IS ALWAYS THE BEST PART IN ANY FANDOM FOR ME!!! especially as someone whose faves are usually the side characters lol the creativity and the freedom of interpretation, diving deeper into them and putting them into situations and having to think about how they would act in them sjsjjsjd makes me crazy every time!

IVE SEEN YOUR LQQ/SQX ART AND OMG I WAS KICKING MY FEET ON MY BED LIKE A KID! EJJEJEEJ IT WAS SOO PRETTY!! GENUINELY LIVED IT! 😍😍😍

WELCOME BACK QIANQING ANON!! Best of luck with your exams! Make sure you find time to take breaks and rest your brain when you can!

For real though season 2 has been such a treat so far— visually stunning and so fun to watch. I know what you mean about sinking back into fengqing hell while watching it. I’ve been in the same position— once you go fengqing you can never leave fengqing. They’re still so important to me 🥹🥹🧡

ALSO LQQ IS JUST AS ENDEARING AND CHARMING AS I HOPED HE WOULD BE. The way he’s so expressive and always so honest— he wears his feelings at all times and it’s always been one of my favorite qualities of his. Also asking me to choose a fav lqq scene is cruel— I love them ALL!!! From his intervention in the gambler’s den and subsequent fight with Hua Cheng, to the way Xie Lian still wrangles him like they’re still teacher & student, to lqq’s “if I hadn’t stepped in, nobody else would,” to the anger and pain in his voice as he broke his own arm to make a fair duel against xl,,,,, there’s so many good scenes!!!!

I’m bouncing all of these qianqing scenarios around in my head but I’m also especially intrigued by a fy & lqq encounter. If lqq was already close with mq when he was put under house arrest, I don’t know if lqq would be able to ignore that— even if he was still hellbent on revenge against qr. Maybe lqq doesn’t recognize mq in fy’s form— his decision to help would come across as so much more sincere like that, I think. Mq isn’t even present but lqq— who is still so jaded by his own quest— still thinks so highly of mq,,,,,,, I think mq would be taken aback by the gesture. Meanwhile lqq knows what it’s like to be wronged and want to set things right— he can empathize.

I’m shaking your hands on the qiurong sentiments— again, I think it’s fun for people to explore ships however they want. I don’t really like it so I don’t really engage with it. They don’t scratch the right type of enemies to lovers tropes that I usually like and that’s okay! I’ll be peddling my lqq content off in the corner while people have fun in their spaces.

I think it’s okay and important to be selective about how you enjoy your media! Not every piece of art or fic was made to be universally enjoyed and that’s okay! Personally I’m with you on focusing on characterization— If I feel like my silly lil guys would not say the words being put in their mouths then usually I put what I’m looking at down and move onto something else.

We’re alike in side character enjoyment too LMAO. Not to analyze it too hard but— for me at least— I think it comes down to how much they have or have not been explored and the intrigue that comes with that possibility. In more deranged words: they’re chewier! It’s like you said— it’s fun to try and figure out how they would behave in unwritten scenarios.

I’m glad you liked my autumn wind piece!!! I’d never drawn sqx before so that was exciting. I’ve been quietly enjoying people’s reactions to it while hiding so many other lqq rarepair ideas in my pockets 🤫😂

#yams uncans #qianqing #thinking about fy and lqq teaming up and crying about it actually 🥺#also sorry I’m so late responding to this wow

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iridawn · 1 year

Text

Untitled Dysphoria One-Shot

this is definitely more of a personal one, but... eh, whatever. (vent piece, maybe? not really, though...) short, simple, but i just wanted to get it outta my system.

i've wanted to do something like this for jewel box for a while -- and i still might -- but i've been a bit hesitant, so im doing it here. dawn's transness is something i hold very close to my heart, and it's a bit personal whenever i write dysphoria stuff like this, regardless of who i'm writing it for and all that jazz.

it's just... i dunno. i wouldnt wanna do it for a published jewel box chapter cause part of me's kinda worried about it coming off poorly, or anything along those lines. i dont wanna write something that people would be upset with, that's not my intent. i did want to do it at some point, though. it's an idea i really liked, and it's a bit more of a personal thing, is all. hopefully you enjoy it, as heavy as it is

but anywho. dawn has a bit of a crappy morning, and her girlfriend comforts her in whatever way she can.

tw for dysphoria

God.

Dawn looked in the mirror as she felt the dread on her forehead.

She had just gotten up, so her hair was a bit messy. She was going to do that, but…

Perhaps she just had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but she did not like looking at the person in the mirror. Not at the moment.

Look at that stubble. God, you need to shave. And your face is so… masculine. The way her face was shaped was something that always stuck out to her when she was feeling bad.

And now she was noticing the rest of her body. The parts of it that she hated. The amount of hair on her arms, the fact that she didn’t really have the same body type as a cis woman…

Dawn hated spiraling. She really, really did. She knew it was not healthy in the slightest, and she knew it only led to bad things. But it was so hard to ignore. And she hated putting herself up to these standards, but it was just hard to ignore.

The parts of her she wanted to be feminine were masculine, and there were options for it, but they felt so far away, still. Dawn was still only about two or so years into her transition, anyway. And sure, she had been doing things to help alleviate that pain a little. To make it not as bad, y’know?

Stuff like makeup. Doing her nails every so often. Maybe she’d try a new hairstyle or two.

But every time, that nag in her head would sometimes come out.

“You still look like a man.”

She knew it was ridiculous. She knew that she still had so much time to go, that there were still incredible things that could happen to her and were going to happen to her, and that she had a lot of support. Dawn knew all of these things, and she knew that these thoughts never helped.

And yet, they persisted.

All Dawn could do is stare in the mirror blankly, her brain pointing out all the things about herself she didn’t like.

She wanted to move, she wanted to just do something else, hell, maybe she’d actually shave. Dawn always felt pretty good after that. She just wanted to do something to get out of this spiral she was in.

But all she could do is just stare at the person in the mirror, and how that person’s body was not the body she wanted to have, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever have it.

All these parts about her were difficult to straight up impossible to remove. And to think, if fate had been different, hell, if she had spoken up a bit more, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.

Dawn loved being trans, and she was so happy to be who she was. That part of her identity was a huge part of who she was, too, so it’s not like she hated it. Far from it. She wouldn’t change any of that for the world, but she still couldn’t help this spiral she was in. Sometimes these moods of dysphoria just hit her like a truck, and though she knew they were ridiculous, it was hard to ignore.

Was it stupid? Yes. Very.

But it was also entirely out of her control, it felt like. She wanted to stop her brain from thinking like this, but… unfortunately, that’s just not how things seemed to work for her, most of the time.

Fuck, it was bad today.

I don’t deserve the things I have, because everybody’s just putting up with it. They’re all being nice to me, because they don’t want to lie and tell me they actually think I’m just a man masquerading around in a dress. I feel disgusting. I—

“Dawn.”

Dawn snapped out of her thoughts, jumping a little as she looked to her side to see a very worried looking Irida.

“…Are you okay?”

Dawn wanted to say something to reassure her. I’m fine, Irida. No need to worry about me, just woke up a little funny, that’s all. She wanted to say that, to make Irida not worry about her. Give her a smile, a hug, and a very nice kiss. To blow this entire thing off, and just have a nice morning.

But Dawn just stood there and stared at her, the worried expression on her face almost making her feel worse. She looked down at the floor of the bathroom for a few seconds, before looking back up at Irida.

“…’m okay.” Dawn’s voice was weak. She tried to give a weak smile to Irida, but couldn’t really muster anything more than a very slight curve of the lips.

Irida’s frown remained, clearly not believing Dawn. But she simply walked forward and wrapped her arms around Dawn, pulling her into a hug. Dawn remained motionless, but Irida rested her head onto her girlfriend’s shoulder, the warm embrace helping Dawn become a bit more grounded.

She slowly wrapped hers around Irida as well, her eyes beginning to tear up. She didn’t make any noises, she just held Irida close, enjoying this comforting embrace.

“…I think you look beautiful, Dawn.”

Dawn’s hug around Irida tightened a little at those words. Sure, it was a very small gesture, and it’s not like it immediately fixed things. But it made her feel a little better, at the very least, and she was thankful for that more than anything else.

Irida pulled back, looking into Dawn’s eyes.

“Honestly, it’s like every single day, you get a little prettier. It blows me away, really… that I got as lucky as I did, to fall in love with you.”

Dawn looked at Irida with a slightly weak smile, her eyes still watering. Irida wiped a few of the tears on her cheek, a weak laugh coming from Dawn. Another simple gesture, but it was sweet.

“…Thanks for getting that.”

“No worries at all, Dawn.”

Dawn sighed, pulling Irida in once more. “…Sorry you gotta deal with me like this.”

“I’m not dealing with anything, Dawn.” She gave Dawn a kiss on the cheek. “I care about you more than anything, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter how you’re feeling or doing. And if you’re not at your best, then I’ll do whatever I can to help, regardless of what it is.”

“…thanks, hon.”

Dawn squeezed Irida a little tighter once more, tears still on her face. She wasn’t sobbing, but they were still coming out. Irida hummed lightly, rubbing Dawn’s back gently.

They stayed in this embrace for a bit, their eyes closed. It was helping Dawn ground herself, and she was thankful for that. She still didn’t feel her best, but having someone as wonderful as her girlfriend to help her calm down was very helpful.

“Do you want to head back to bed and just cuddle for a bit?”

Dawn looked up and nodded. “Would be pretty nice.”

“Okay, Dawn. Whatever works for you.” Irida gave a genuinely happy smile to Dawn, which made her heart do leaps.

She hated being down like this, but having Irida there to help her through it would be a huge help. It always was.

They’d find ways to help Dawn cheer up later, but for now, Dawn just wanted to take things easy.

With that, Dawn led the way back to her room, and to their bed, to just relax for a while. Cuddling with Irida was always a nice pick-me-up.

They'd work through the rest of the day later. She just needed to relax, for now. And she was grateful she would do that with the love of her life.

#jewel box lite

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kiara-ish · 2 years

Text

The Guy on the Floor Downstairs

Part 2

Words: 4k+

Genre: Slice of Life

Multiple Chapters: (2/?)

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Idol Neighbour! Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Having Min Yoongi as your neighbour was something straight out of dreamy fanfictions for you – but reality is determined to keep you grounded so it comes to you with a wrath.

Idea of the Chapter: There is always a darker side to every thing that shines. Only when you see the darkness and learn to love it, can you really bathe in the light.

m.list | series navigation

Having Min Yoongi as my downstairs neighbour was like a miraculous dream that I felt like I would wake up from any moment, except the waking up part never came. Even the next day when my eyes opened at the sunlight slapping me in the face, I realised that the day before was not a dream — he really lived downstairs.

There were no thuds or sounds to indicate the existence of human life downstairs even as I tried to sip on my coffee as slowly as humanly possible, in case he does call again. It was a pathetic move but it was comparatively tame in the scale of fangirl things.

When I was on my way out of the apartment for work, my shoes were louder on the stairs and feet moved slower on his floor but all in vain; Min Yoongi had ostracised himself again. Not just that day, the day after and the one after it passed in the lack of affirmation that he still lived there and I was panicking more and more everyday.

It wasn't that my behaviour was too overwhelming. It was him who prodded cheesy pick up lines and stared at me with that look in his eyes. All I did was blush like a chemical injected tomato and bid him goodbye without even looking at him after finishing the coffee. He did not wish me back but that could have been because I straight up bolted the moment I was past his door. The recurring thought that my behaviour must have looked suspicious haunted my nights but there wasn't much I could do.

"Why don't you try visiting him again? He was welcoming, wasn't he?"

I shook my head at my friend who looked like she could just slap me virtually through the screen. Since the past hour I was completely endorsed in my video call with my friends.

"He was welcoming but that was because he was the one inviting me. Also, he has always been a person who loved being alone, you all know that too!"

The three of them nodded in unison.

"Oh right! Do you remember that girl from our school-"

By the time our call ended, my mind was temporarily off my downstairs neighbour. That's just the effect that my friends had on me – the three that stuck with me through thick and thin even when a thousand miles seperated us.

It was when I lazed around the kitchen, watching my soup heat up that a very loud crash made me jump out of my skin, even more so when I realised it came from downstairs. What scared me was that the noise was so loud that it could be heard through my kitchen meaning that the incident was in his kitchen downstairs. That is one place in the house when things can go really wrong.

The beeping of the microven was the second jumpscare for me. Even while pushing around the food on my plate, I couldn't be at ease. No sounds reached me after that loud thud and it bothered me because I would choose his annoyed curses that reassure that he's okay over the impending silence anyday.

In all probability my brain was in autopilot, only returning to senses when I had already rang his doorbell twice. Regret followed when the silence kicked in, the night was chilly and the apartment building was quiet. Goosebumps lined my exposed skin making me regret not throwing on a cardigan before sprinting downstairs. I decided that I would wait for another minute before I would retire back to my place with embarassment and a preserving nagging worry.

But it looked like I would be saved the atrocity as heavy footsteps were heard on the opposite side of the door and the door opened to reveal, to my relief, Min Yoongi, completely unharmed at least in appearance.

"What?"

I didn't even know I was smiling until I felt it drop at his tone. I did not expect him to be on his knees with a flower in hand to welcome me but neither did I expect him to sound like I was an inconvenience to the entire world. It was one word and I wanted to cry.

"I just heard some loud noises. Just wanted to know if you are-"

"Yeah. I'm good. Thank you so much for caring."

His words were laced with sarcasm that in any other scenarios would have made me throw pointers at him and laugh but it only twisted the blow to my guts making me fidget in place. I wanted to just disappear.

"Okay. I'll get going."

"Yes, please. Thank you so-"

"Why are you being so rude?"

He laughed at my question, as if it was the greatest joke – either that or me and my concern for him.

"I've got better things to do, honey, than be kind to you, to please you."

"What are you even saying?"

I stared at him dumbfounded. His words either did not make sense at all or they didn't to me. All I knew was that I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Something in me shifted and there was a dull ache spreading throughout my body.

His flushed face was soured into a scowl and it looked like all he needed was a push and he would explode. Me appearing at his door was just a lost deer wandering to the lion's den and he took it as just that. His eyes looked darker and he looked unfamiliar which only added a burn to the pain spreading through my body. So without another word I was going away hearing him mutter something under his breathe that was indistinct and the door slammed shut. I was glad my hearing wasn't excellent — I did not need to hear him curse at me and make the pain increase more.

When I shut the door behind me, I couldn't take anymore steps so I leaned against it, sliding to the floor and just sitting there letting a overwhelming feeling spread through me. My face felt warm in embarassment and my body felt numb.

It was not that people have never been rude to me. It was only that the man of my dreams who only had just appeared out of it and into my life had been rude to me. It was not his words that struck me behind my knees, it was years of an image that I had built for him shattering that made my kneecaps stutter and glad, occasionally a tremor shaking me at the thought of it.

There was a strange sound that echoed through my mouth and for a moment, I was confused enough to let my head stray when I heard it again. I realised it was me; crying, soft sobs sneaking out without my consent. The pain was stronger than ever and I realised what it was too - heartbreak.

But I was not a lost teenager anymore who sought shelter in lights. I had made my way out by fighting with and in the darkness and I knew for a fact that I was not about to just stand there and let people take their anger out on me, not out of love and not in love; not when my own heart was still hardening. No matter how busy they are, how rough their day has gone, it won't justify unkindness. Well, Min Yoongi would have to move back and take the backseat because I knew better than to let him take a hold of my heart only to squeeze the warm blood out of it.

Agust D was not on my loop the next day and I laughed extra hard at dumb jokes that made no sense at work to make sure no one would question my dark circles. What would I have said? A woman in her mid twenties was crying about her favourite idol being mean to her was hardly believable let alone consolable. I returned with extra assignments to be done and my friends' calls were answered with texts because no matter how old I was, there 'are you okay?' would get me bawling because together we would always be sixteen years old.

I had obviously distanced myself from them and him before so pushing him to the back of my mind was not too difficult. That was even more so because I had bitten off more than I could chew and there were piles of files in my apartment for the first time and more than half of them were collecting dust.

I could not ignore the occasional thuds and musical notes from the balcony when I relished my evening cup of coffee watching the city at night. But thankfully, I never encountered him on my way out and in but it was quite obvious that he would not leave his apartment. He wasn't a normal citizen like me. I did not bother stealth in my passing anymore because there was nothing for me to be careful of. The damage was done.

But that did not nullify the fact that my heart lurched uncomfortably everytime I passed his floor or everytime I heard him humming a tune from my balcony then cursing right after. So on a night when I unexpectedly had to empty my stinky trash at half past midnight, I was very bothered to see him sitting on the stairs again like a lost stray cat that was too full of pride to ask for shelter but was too vulnerable to be alone.

"Hi."

It was his broken voice that shook me out of my daze. His eyes were on me and it strangely reminded me of the night when I first discovered that a world wide celebrity was living in my building. Only this time, I was more stubborn, determined to keep my stance of distancing so I bowed at him minimally and walked right past him on the stairs.

The stench of alcohol burned my nostrils and I flinched at the intensity of it. I was no stranger to drinks or drunk people but just by the fact that the intensity made me flinch was enough of a concern. I almost turned back to him but through the years my stubborn habit of earning respect as a bare minimum had me remembering the push that he sent my way in the first place.

"Will you leave just like that?"

My heart thudded so hard in my chest that I almost couldn't breathe. His voice was so much like a suppressed murmur, as if his energy burnt out at each word.

"Isn't that just what you wanted?"

I did not turn back at him, my pace slowed as I neared my stairs. It was the man that had unnecessarily pushed me away and it was the man that had made me blush like a teenager again. It was the man who reminded me that I was not even a toenail worth of what he was but it was the man that had inspired me to be my best in the world. It was the man that I wanted to run to but I knew it was the man I should run away from, sprint rather.

"No, I just-"

"It's fine, Suga. Good night."

I yearned to have him call after me once again and I would wait and talk my issues out with him but he didn't and my heart sunk even more. Of course, it wasn't a drama and in reality, no one really calls after you unless you are famous or rich or beautiful or in love and alas, I wasn't any of those for Min Yoongi.

I did not sleep the entire night let alone get any work done. All night my ears were perked up to hear the sound of a door closing downstairs, assuring me that he was inside once again. But the day had been exhausted for me too and when the dark blue of the night faded out a lighter shade, I dozed off.

When my eyes opened again, his thoughts were back in my mind. The fervent worry to check on him bothered my senses to the point that I couldn't stay in bed even when I woke up earlier than my set alarm. I knew I couldn't check on him by going to his place when I peeked from the stairs and he wasn't there.

The entire day I was jittery in my working. Knees shaking under my desk at work and tapping my phone in anxiety on the bus, it felt like the whole town was annoyed at me. Every eye that noticed me sent me further to the edge, it was like there was a red alert on my name and I knew something that the entire world sought after. Worst of it all, I had no idea where the anxiety was coming from.

The queue to the take away counter of the small restaurant was quite long and my overwhelming anxiety since morning was not helping. There was a buzzing in my pocket and in my fervent attempt to quickly take a hold of it under the stare of the entire restaurant, I dropped it. The loud clatter seemed so loud that my sweaty hands couldn't push down the air down my lungs to help me breathe, so there I was hyperventilating in the middle of a queue.

Nobody helped. Everyone stared at me as if I was an abomination to the human society while I contemplated why my day was going so bad. Finally picking up the phone, as it still buzzed on, I left the restaurant without my lunch.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Joonhee from the HR department. When you return to office please visit Mr. Han."

The cherry was placed on top. Mr. Han was that one HR whom I never really got accustomed to, particularly his stare that always slithered down my body so meticulously that it felt like his hands were on me, even if it never was. The translating job was part time so I have never really had to visit him either so I did not know what business he had with me.

I couldn't wait for the day to end as I waited in the hallway before Mr. Han's office, with my knee anxiously jerking. I could absolutely not wait for the meeting to be over so I could go home and worry about Yoongi, at least that did not include me wallowing in self pity.

"Mr. Han will see you now."

With a thankful nod, I was walking into his office. He was seated in his desk like a good Samaritan who had never even borderlined sins.

"Oh, you're here! Have a seat."

As I took a seat, he stood up and a red flag flashed in my head.

"I have to say this before anything," he grinned like a Cheshire cat, "you are one of the best employees of our company, no doubt, even in the small time you have been here."

"Thank you, sir," I spoke through gritted teeth almost wanting to shove his head into the glass window on which he leaned.

"I would have loved to say this with a reward but unfortunately, the company has been going downhill in profits these days."

That was something that I wasn't very aware of so I listened with curiosity as he continued.

"It saddens me to tell you that we are rolling in our translation gigs."

There was a thunderstrike and my hands were completely numbed. My vision blurred and I knew I was about to cry.

"And I- Oh! Don't cry, darling."

His hands were on me but there wasn't anything I could do. My brain was not processing that I was basically being fired and this douchebag was running his hands down my back in consolation but obviously, tapping my hips was not the best consolation out there neither was squeezing my shoulders below the blades.

"It's okay, sweet. I can find you a job in another-"

"Can you please get your hands off me?"

My voice was heavy with unshed tears as I pushed back the chair to stand up, unbothered at the way the chair threw of Han. Wiping my sweaty hands on my dress, I spoke with as much clarity I could muster.

"Thank you for letting me work here, sir. I'll see my employer on my way out. Have a good night."

My shaky legs were carrying me decently until I was at the door and his voice reached me again,

"Your employer? Manager Choi? He has handed in his resignation. I am overseeing his duties now."

The world crashed for me again and I knew what he was going to say next.

"Looking at your records that I got from Choi, I am seeing a conflicting in accounts of your salary. If I'm not reading it wrong and I know I'm not, you have taken six months of salary in advance."

Mr. Choi was the best manager I could ask for as my first job in Seoul. He proposed the idea of advancing my salary when I was struggling with my apartment down payments. Clearly neither of us had foreseen this circumstance and I could barely foresee what was in fate for me ahead after this.

My apartment building looked so dark from outside that it resembled my head that only echoed Mr. Han's last words to me, "I hope you'll know your own good and return the money within the month. Translating is a connected business and getting your name ruined once can have a forever impact."

My feet were sluggish as I made my way up. Every sound was a blur and only doom rang in my ears. I barely flinched when there was a loud voice ringing through the entire apartment building but I couldn't understand what it said. When I shut my doors and slid down against it, it felt like deja vu except there were no sobs this time, it was wailing that exuded as much of the heartache that I could feel.

I knew I couldn't ask for money from home, I rebelled enough when deciding to come here alone. My other job barely paid enough to pay the bills. The translating job was the bullseye for me when I came to Seoul. It paid in gigs which were a lot because of all the paperwork from the k-pop industry. I couldn't believe that I breathed a sigh just the other day thinking my life was settled and good. I thought I could live at least the rest of my life without swimming in debts like my parents did. I should have known that I wasn't a good swimmer. I was clumsy and drowning.

My phone rang in my pocket again. When I took it out, I noticed the cracked screen that I didn't notice before. The caller ID read 'Mom' and I was crying again, letting all of it out so that I could talk without breaking down.

"Hello?"

"Hello!"

Her voice was full of enthusiasm and my heart sunk even more. She went ahead talking to me about her day while I hummed along, too scared to speak in case my voice gives away everything.

"I'm so happy these days. You are settled in nicely. Now you just need to find a good man, get married and I'll have nothing to worry for the rest of my life."

An ironical chuckle escaped me and my mom must have thought it to be an agreement. So she continued,

"I'm so proud of you. You have always been my only ray of sunshine."

Sunshine fades, mom. It's night now.

"You're happy, right?"

There was a sob threatening to escape so I spoke quickly before my voice cracked.

"Yes, mom. Very happy."

Tears streamed down my face and I placed a hand over my open mouth to muffle the cries.

"That's good. That's important too sometimes."

My toes curled and my lungs tightened. I couldn't hold in my wails anymore.

"Mom I've got to get going now. I'll call tomorrow."

"Your voice sounds different. Are you sick?"

"No, just exhausted from the day. I'll hang up now. Take your medicines. Goodnight."

A scream ripped from my throat and I couldn't breathe as I huffed and struggled against the door. Why was I always back to square one? When I was a child, it was my parents shouting at each other, wishing each other's deaths that scared me sleepless. They said I was a pretty combination of my parents so that had to be why now I shouted at myself, why I wished my own death. Except I was a thousand miles too far from home at an unfamiliar land, alone and scared with a debt and no one to run to.

I had no idea how long I sat there against the door. Tears dried on my cheeks like dark stains of paint dripped down a ripped canvas. My hand and feet were weak, knees wobbled when I finally stood up, toes crashing against my purse making a sound too loud for my ears. It was followed by a sound in the hallway which equally burned my ears.

I dropped myself on the balcony couch, just staring at the distant citylights. My head was empty of thoughts as I just stared and stared, barely blinking. A siren interrupted the regular sounds of the street, the sound fading slowly. It made me shudder. I was afraid of death still. I was a weakling in the face of it.

The sky was serene strangely. It unexpectedly calmed my heart. My loud and worried mind got quieter and quieter when I began to hear the gentle chords of an acoustic guitar, strummed in a familiar tune and a gentle humming accompanying it. The sound wafted to me a like a gentle caress, softly brushing my hair back with the crisp approaching winter breeze.

I almost dozed off when I heard words flowing with the tune too. A voice so familiar harmoniously sparred with the soft chords, leaving my mind to subconsciously decipher only some parts of it.

'...And I wanted to apologise

But I've never been so wise

To know what I'm missing out

I'm sorry, just hear me out.

I wish I could face you,

But I can't

I can only write songs for you

Throw paper planes of music at you

Hoping you will smile again

when they land'

My eyes were burning even before I opened them. Even without my vision, I knew I was in the balcony. It seemed to be place I frequented even more than before. It only took a few minutes for the thoughts of the day before to crash on me again. The money, the lost job and the anxiety of it all hit me like a truck that had already just run me over and returned for more.

I could ask for advances in my teaching job but who knew, with my luck even that teaching centre could go bankrupt and I'd be left with more dues than gains.

"I just woke up and I'm already exhausted."

I spoke as if there would be anyone to assure me otherwise. The day had just began when it all started going wrong again. My coffee stock was over and my exhaustion couldn't be worst. Before I could scream out my frustrations, the doorbell rang. It was so unfamiliar to me to hear it that I almost jumped in shock before realising what it was.

I opened the door in seconds only to hear loud footsteps almost sprinting downstairs and a steaming cup of coffee sitting on my doorsteps. I knew immediately who it was and I waited to hear the softest of thuds of a door closing but there was none. So in all probability, Min Yoongi had just ran away after giving me coffee and was now silently waiting to confirm my acceptance of it.

It would be a lie to say that I forgot my worries at his gesture but my heart did flutter and I could feel the corners of my mouth lifting up. So I did what spontaneously came to me as an urge. I moved closed to the stairs, making the least possible sound and without any warning shouted out loud, "Thank you!"

At least, the guy from the floor downstairs knew how to apologise.

#Spotify #bts fanfic #bts #kpop boys #bts x reader #bts suga #bts fic #min yoongi #bts ff #bts yoongi #suga ff #kiara-ish: TGOTFD

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collectionoftulips · 2 years

Text

For those who have read the latest strictly au chapter (chapter 4), I wanted to share some general thoughts re my plot/thought process behind this chapter, particularly centred on why I chose to end the chapter the way I did (sorry, I'm a nerd)

Naturally, like with a lot of fics in this fandom, a lot of establishing fun is really setting their dynamic and playing with how certain key scenes may or may not play out in an AU. The phone call was in an earlier chapter for all intents and purposes the 'meet-ugly' scenario (as the lovely @dil-ibaadat commented) that shapes their first meeting.

Kate and Anthony are clearly the kings and queens of self-sabotage and getting in their own way (Anthony especially), and while I've worked with that a few different ways in other fics, what really appealed to me in this fic was playing with this other form of self-sabotage that I haven't really used before: the way we can sometimes compare what we have to what we perceive others to have.

Like in the show (which is my main entry point into this fandom), Anthony has his whole almost insta love feelings for Kate, which he obviously represses deeply. Yet, the more he's around her and is impressed by her, the more difficult it is for him to shut those feelings down. She's very reserved and he just wants so much to know her, to please her, to get a sense of how she feels about him (which he can barely read at all).

But with this competition, it isn't just them, and as they get into the group rehearsals, he sees so many variations of partnerships that are established on the show and the different ways that they are with each other, that seem so much closer than what he has with Kate. He might not be able to fully admit his feelings for her, but he wants that closeness, that bond he sees other people have with their dance partner. He, of course, doesn't understand that the reason why the majority of these other partnerships don't seem as burdened by complications as his with Kate is precisely because Kate is aware that she could very much like him in a non-platonic way if she let herself (but of course she doesn't because you know...). So he just sees variations of what he wants paraded in front of him and it hurts. And because he and Kate are both such guarded people, of course he doesn't talk to her about it.

Sitting with those feelings and allowing himself to be vulnerable in that way with her is difficult, if not near impossible, so it's easier for him to focus on the jealousy he feels towards her friendship with Simon (also because this is one of my fics and I looooove jealous and pressed Anthony). He sees that ease and comfort that she displays with Simon and not with him so it's easy for him to imagine that clearly, something could be going on with them. But of course all of these thoughts nag in the back of his head but easily evaporate once they start dancing, because Anthony's brain always short-circuits a little bit when he's in physical proximity to Kate.

Then they are on camera and she says she's proud of him and that hits in a very particular deep way due to the way I've chosen to have the family dynamics in this chapter (which will become a later factor). That makes him sort of realise (yet not fully) that he has Feelings. And for someone who's spent the better part of his life avoiding all kinds of Feelings, that becomes really scary. Scary in that way that is also a little bit exciting if he allows himself to hope.

So he opens up, trying to repay the compliment that she gave him by saying how brilliant he thought she was, thereby allowing some of the feelings that he both fears and wants to bubble up to the surface. And just maybe everything could be wonderful, maybe he was wrong all along and maybe she could care.

Then their dance ends and in the depths of his feelings, he gets a brief hug, which he doesn't mind, only to recover in time to see Kate wrap Simon into a hug seemingly with all the feelings he wanted, that he thought she didn't really show, only to realise that no, actually she does show them, but not to him. And why should he think he was special, right? There is nothing in the participation criteria for Strictly that is about forming lasting friendships or anything. He's reminded that for all intents and purposes, this is a professional arrangement that Kate did not choose. She was allocated him as a partner so why should she feel any particular way about him?

These things just set off this incredible spiral where he gets angry and frustrated with himself for allowing all of these 'weaknesses' (god, this character needs therapy so bad) and he thinks back to all of these external markers of closeness he's seen with other dance couples and uses those to invalidate his feelings and what he feels to be true (that maybe there could be something there). This is of course when Kate catches on to something being wrong, and he just hates how seemingly consumed he is by her good opinion, how he can't stop thinking about her but she doesn't even seem to know he exists. So he takes it out on her, which is just fundamentally wrong.

So really, what I wanted to kinda play with in this chapter was how comparison really truly is the thief of joy.

(wow I really just rewrote the entire chapter into this post but whatever haha)

#unsolicited updates on my writing process

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cute-void · 11 months

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Trippy af. But. I think I'm developing romantic attraction? It's one of those things where I'm like "yeah ok I know what romance is, it's any relationship people deem as such" but. Man wtf. What do I want to deem romantic? What do I want to call my feelings?

At the same time it also scares me a bit because I have this little nagging part of my brain saying "you made it all up! You weren't aromantic at all!" Which I know is wrong. It's a spectrum. Sexuality, attraction, etc is all fluid. There can be exceptions. It's just a label. Blah blah blah.

But it also feels embarrassing to change a label I've proudly held onto so strongly, especially telling that to people who don't understand aromanticism or relationship anarchy. And it's also scary to keep a label that might give this person the wrong impression that I wouldn't want to do certain things with her because she has her own idea of "romantic" and those things could potentially be things I would actively want with her, but calling myself "aromantic" could exclude me from those things.

When I get into the territory of trying to break down my wants vs fantasies though, I get so confused. Cause like. With this feeling I have with this person, in my imagination I would want what she wants. HOWEVER I have no solid idea of what she would want with me specifically because we've never had that conversation and aren't really at a stage in our relationship to do so. We haven't even known each other for a year yet!! Our relationship is an infant!!

I mean. We were able to talk a bit about ideal relationships and what we would want out of it. We both heavily emphasized physical affection and emotional intimacy.

So I keep going back to "oh I just want her affection and emotional intimacy and her understanding" but I'm fuckin greedy! And I want more than that. I want it to be special to us. And that's where I go "ok hold up this might be romantic" because personally for me, romance is anything special and has inflated importance and well, it's romanticized.

Now that I think about it, a romantic relationship is literally just an idealized type of relationship. It's a romanticized one with whatever we so decide it contains. And so far my relationship with this person feels like it has the Potential to be ideal. I want to chase after that ideal.

But at the same time, I don't know what I exactly want anymore! It's confusing! Would I be willing to let go of this ideal situation where I'm in a polycule and people love me and we are all able to rely on each other, just so that I could be with only her.

This new relationship also is making me realize though that the polycule fantasy might just be because Ive never met anyone like her before. She's very honest to me, and emotionally strong, she's great at communicating, she's able to take care of herself. I think maybe the whole polycule thing could have been me being afraid of not being enough on my own in a committed relationship. That I couldn't give enough comfort or time or attention that someone else would need. That it would make me feel more secure if my partners would be able to go to someone else and still be taken care of if I wasn't enough. That all that pressure wasn't on me alone.

But I realize now that it's not that I'm not enough but that I do not have to be responsible for keeping people together and happy and satisfied. That I don't have to fill a hole but to add on to something already whole.

Like. This girl I like literally called me out on it!! I overreacted to a thing she was stressing over and I did a whole embarrassing rant of "you're not lazy, you're doing your best, I'm so proud of you, you're very smart, I will scream this at you until you believe it type of thing, blah blah blah" and she literally went "hold up. Thank you for the compliments. I don't want you to act responsible for my feelings or my self worth. It would make me feel better if I knew that I could share my thoughts and feelings without you taking them in yourself" and that like. Just. Completely dislodged that idea. Like. She just plucked a nail out the back of my head that I couldn't even see.

And a couple deep conversations later we now feel even safer and more secure with each other. Less anxious, less walking on eggshells, less afraid of the other person only doing things out of obligation or fear. It's wild to me.

But. Yeah. I think if I could spend my life, not with a polycule of codependent people lol, but just committed with her. I would probably be even more happy.

She's very cool. I could go on and on about her. Not just in the emotional intimacy or communication sense but like. Just who she is as a person. She is so caring and generous and sweet and she sees the world through such a deeply narrative and personal and romantic lens. She's so patient and loving and I want to live with her like she does. Omg id go into way more specific stuff about all the little things she does if I wasn't publicly posting this. I know that I love her so much. And that this is probably what romantic attraction feels like because this feels like me chasing after my ideal.

God I'm just very scared.

I dunno what I'm doing lol

#talking to the void #aromantic

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not-those-kids · 1 year

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uncharted golden abyss full review come and get it

overall: 6.5/10, good, compelling characters with a great haunting of the narrative on behalf of non-existent sam, but bogged down by ooc jokes and quips that gave misogyny and transphobia

i get that it’s not a naughty dog game and not the same writers were working on it

but while it had really great concepts some of the banter didn’t hit the mark enough for me to go lower than a 7. what i love abt all 4 games + ll is the banter. it establishes character very well, makes the audience relate more to the character, but doesn’t overextend it when it doesn’t need to happen (cough marvel). at least in the first four games + tll.

and when the banter is good in ga it’s really good. i loved nate’s dynamic with dante, i love that dante sucked massive shit. and even if sam wasn’t an established character at this time, i could see how his death might’ve influenced nate to work with dante.

dante shoving the fact that nate was basically a nobody who has done nothing WAS SO FUCKING POIGNANT, especially with the undercurrent of the sam haunting the narrative!!!! like fuck!! “what have you done in the last ten years except work pissant jobs for schlubs like me?” WHAT A GREAT LINE, and then nate pointing a gun at him LIKE UGH!!!! imagine ur brother died three or so years ago, and this ASSHOLE just throws it in ur face that you have accomplished NONE of what you wanted to do together. THATS FUCKING COLD AND RAW AND I FUCKING LOVED IT.

and then the dynamic between marisa and nate was great too! she really feeds off nate well, and tbh while i definitely got more of a friendship vibe off of them, i didn’t hate it that there was romantic tension there either. that being said, sometimes. and i mean sometimes. the way nate talked to her rubbed me the wrong way, and not only did it feel ooc for nate but it felt degrading to marisa. it was like having 95% of the cupcakes in the batch being great, and then 5% being either meh or just plain bad. the reason i say this is because i felt like they had a fun dynamic as being both knowledgeable on history, but nate was. somewhat harsh on her for seemingly no reason. sometimes the banter felt like boomer comedy, Oh She’s The Nagging Wife and he’s the Tired Husband.

like here are real quotes from the game from nate that felt ooc and degrading to marisa

“i’m listening… just not paying attention”

[after her foot got stuck under a heavy stone column and nate gets her out of it] “quit your bitchin’” (as a joke)

like even as a joke, it just doesn’t suit nate and it really rubbed me the wrong way. enough to me that those 5% of sour cupcakes in the batch tasted enough bad for me to be like :/

sully was also great in this for 95% of the game and then like. that god damn 5%!!!! like he’s always been a womanizer, but the way he talked abt women in this game was a lil more gross than normal. for me, it always seemed like sully would talk abt his partners, but idk. there was just something lacking in respect in how he talked abt them in this game. like. at the end he jokes abt two girls he finds attractive, at some point pontificating abt a girl’s lips. like which. idk. he’s always been a dirty old man. i just never really heard him talk abt…body parts. he always seemed too polite for that, if that makes sense.

what really drove the nail on the coffin for me was the very final line in the game. nate made a joke abt how sully slept w a woman’s “brother named isabel”. which is just. straight up transphobia meant to be a dig at sully and his masculinity (thank u danger on discord for putting my brain thoughts into words). and it’s just so!!! ew!!! don’t assign my nathan as a transphobe. canon disregarded and thrown away. thanks.

but again like i said, MOST of the banter was good. i love that nate was a lil environmentalist, and he’s still good at heart and you can tell. dante is 1000% the best pre uc4 antagonist FOR SURE, i will always remember how he understood nathan and used it against him and i just. ugh. i kinda wanna like him more than rafe is that crazy?

anyways. it just had some lil Written By Men moments that made me feel icky enough to rate it lower bc of that. but besides that, a lot of fun. cant rate it higher than uc1, but again. would watch again just for the dante and nate banter.

#uncharted #uncharted golden abyss

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h0tchner · 3 years

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Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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You Have Me - Bakugou Katsuki

Dad!Bakugou x Babysitter!reader

Warnings: Dad!Bakugou, Fingering, 18+, Cursing, pining, cheating, daddy kink (cuz duh)

Request: Dad Bakugou in love with his babysitter. She’s younger than him but still over legal drinking age and Bakugou is not too old. I just wanna see how he’d go about this whole situation ESPECIALLY if he was already married.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“F-Faster Katsuki!” You said as Bakugou pounded into you on the kitchen island.

“Shit baby...fuck, you like that shit? Like how daddy fucks your sweet cunt?” He teased as he hit your cervix. “You gonna give me another brat? Huh? C’mon Teddy Bear I know you can do it~”

His hand traveled to your clit as he toyed with your pretty pussy. Your legs shook as he worked his magic and you clenched around his cock.

“Ohh~ ‘M gonna cum!” You cried out. Your hands clawed at Katsuki’s back as he sucked his teeth in due to the stimulating pleasure.

“Do it. Cream all over my cock baby.” You obeyed his every command as you did what you were told and spilled all over him. Your orgasm didn’t stop him as he continued to ram into you. He sped up as he chased his own release and threw his head back.

“F-Fuck! Fuck baby,” he leaned down close to your face as he used his hand to grab your chin. “I love you. You fuckin’ understand me?” He said and brought a smack to your ass. “I love you Y/N.”

His voice grew whiny as his thrust became sloppy. You both were a moaning mess until Katsuki met his climax and filled you with his release. Right as he came, his lips met yours for a rough and passionate kiss that you both desperately moaned into. He continued to slowly thrust into you to push his cum deeper inside your womb as you tugged at his hair. Your lips finally separated as Katsuki stopped his thrusts. He rested his forehead against yours as you both held heavy breaths. He grinned at your dazed eyes and grew excited. He was sure he done enough to get you pregnant. He saw your soft, angelic features and listened carefully as you began to speak.

“Katsuki...it’s time to wake up.” You said with a smile.

“Huh?” Bakugou said in confusion as he lifted his face away from yours. You sat up and shoved his shoulder as your voice began to fade out.

“Wake up! ....Wake up Katsuki. Katsuki! ....Katsuki!”

—

“Katsuki! Wake up!”

The 25 year old man had his eyes shot open as he flinched the slightest bit. He awoke to his bitch of a wife smacking his upper body to get him to come to.

“Ugh, the hell do you want?” He groaned as he layed back down in bed.

“I want you to get out of bed! We’re supposed to be going to Aki’s party today! You owe me since you didn’t want to buy me those heels!” She complained. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the gold digger and shooed her away with his hand.

“Go by your damn self. I have a meeting today. I’m not going to one of your shitty friend’s stupid ass parties. And also, I don’t owe you shit. I’m not dropping three grand on a pair of heels for some bitch.” He said with his eyes still shut. He heard his wife gasp at his insults and he could already imagine her dropped jaw.

“Excuse me, but I’m not some bitch. I’m your wife-“

“Who’s a bitch.” Bakugou interrupted. He opened his piercing, crimson eyes as he watched her tilt her head to the ceiling and crossed her arms.

“Hmph! Fine then! I’ll go by myself!” She said and marched out the room and out the house. Bakugou groaned as he rolled onto his back and threw his arms over his eyes.

“Good. That’s what I wanted. Stupid bitch.” He said to no one in particular. He sighed as he held on to the memory of the sweet dream he was having before his wife had interrupted. The sweet dream of him completely indulging himself in Y/N L/N, his son’s babysitter.

Was it wrong for him to have these thoughts about Y/N while being married? Yes. But did Bakugou care? Not at all. He was so drawn to Y/N it was like love at first sight for him. Besides, he didn’t love his wife anyway. They dated for a year and the whole time, Bakugou completely hated it. Truthfully, Bakugou dated her for her looks and the sweet facade she put up, but when her true self came through, Bakugou knew he was done with her. Unfortunately, before he had the chance to break up with her, his son Katsuo, was conceived. So when the news of her pregnancy became known to him, the toxic couple decided to tie the knot and get married. What a poor decision.

Bakugou decided enough time had been spent in bed and so he got up and got ready. Once he was fresh and clean he checked the time and saw it was 8:30. He made breakfast and prepped the table. Once he was done, he walked to his son’s room to wake up the little guy.

Katsuo Bakugou. Katsuki’s precious son. Even though he wasn’t planned, Katsuki loved his dear boy regardless. It’s sad to say the same thing can’t be said with the boy’s mother. Leiko Hotashi, Katsuo’s mother, seemed to have no love for the child, or anyone other than herself and money. She complained the entire pregnancy, she didn’t smile at the first sight of him when he was born, and she didn’t bother to be around the little guy either. Katsuo basically grew up without a mother’s love but he turned out just fine because Katsuki’s love was more than enough. The constant absence of his mother didn’t bother him and the child didn’t seem to care whether she was around or not. It’s sad really, but what can you do?

Bakugou walked into the room and saw a tuff of blonde hair that resembled his own. He walked to his ‘mini me,’ and shook the 5 year old awake.

“Katsuo...wake up bud. C’mon.” Katsuki said in a surprisingly soft voice. He was greeted with a pair of red eyes that copied his own and he smiled down at his carbon copy. “C’mon bud, breakfast is ready.”

Katsuo sat up in bed and yawned as he rubbed one of his eyes with his tiny fist. Katsuki smiled at the cute sight. “G’morning dad!”

“Heh. Good morning bud now let’s. Go. We got a nice breakfast waiting for us,” Bakugou said as he picked up his son in his arms. Katsuo giggled in excitement as Katsuki walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen.

The two sat down at the island as they enjoyed their breakfast and Katsuki listened to his son babble on about nothing. It was a peaceful morning for the most part. Katsuki’s morning always consisted of his crazy wife being a nag but other than that, he enjoyed his mornings with his son.

“So, I have to go to work soon and Mom is gone, but Y/N is coming by in a bit to watch you.” Katsuki explained to the young boy who seemed to light up at the mention of your name.

“Y/N’s coming?! Yay!” The boy shouted. Katsuo loved you. You’ve been his babysitter for 2 years and you already had the child (and his father) wrapped around your finger. Without knowing it, you showered the boy in motherly love, something that he never really got to experience. As we already stated, Bakugou felt drawn to you as if it was love at first sight, but seeing the way you interacted with his son just sealed the deal for him.

The two continued their meal and when they were done, Katsuki had the child wash up and get ready for your arrival. He cleaned up in the kitchen and by the time he was done, you knocked on the door. Bakugou felt his heart race at the knowledge of your presence and before he ran to the door, he stopped infront of a mirror to check himself. He fixed his hair and adjusted his clothes to fit more comfortably and then ran to the door. Before opening it, he placed his hand on the knob, took a breath, and then pulled the door open to be blessed with the sight of your beauty. “Y/N! Hi!”

“Heh, hey Katsuki.” You said as you stood at the door with a smile. You weren’t dumb. You always noticed how nervous Bakugou was whenever you were around. His crush was a little obvious to you and even though you felt something for the handsome hero, you never made any advances for the man. He was married and had a kid! There’s no way any sort of relationship was happening. Luckily, a very flirtatious friendship blossomed between you two and you grew so close that you both reached a first name basis.

Y/N L/N. A beautiful woman at the pretty age of 23. She was not only beauty, but she was brains, strength, and grace. She was a fierce and charming lady who had poison on her tongue but a fluffy heart of gold. The lot of you may be thinking that a 23 year old woman should be doing more than babysitting, but Y/N is still fairly young. And besides, babysitting was just a side gig. You had an actual career and owned your own dance studio but ever since you met the Bakugous, you just couldn’t give up on the little job.

“...Umm...Katsuki. Are you gonna keep staring or are you gonna let me in?” You said with a chuckle. Bakugou embarrassingly snapped out of his trance before speaking.

“Right! Uh, come in,” he said and stepped aside for you to enter. You nodded with a smile and walked into the large home, took a seat on the soft couch and you waited for Katsuo to come down. In the meantime, Katsuki always took the opportunity to make small talk with you.

“So..how’ve you been? It’s been awhile since you came over to watch Katsuo.” Katsuki said as he took a seat that was pretty close to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. The studio’s just been pretty hectic with more clients coming in. Even before I came here, I dropped off some choreography for a heels class that I’m teaching tonight.” You said. The mention of your upcoming class made Katsuki a little excited. Your studio commonly filmed classes to post online for publicity and when Katsuki found videos of you dancing/teaching a heels class, he couldn’t help but constantly admire the view.

“Still coulda’ came by to at least say hi or something,” he said with a gruff but obvious sarcastic voice. “S’been forever since I- I mean since Katsuo saw you.”

“Relax dummy,” you said with a giggle as you playfully slapped his arm. “I’ve only been gone a week.”

Bakugou pretended to be in pain as he placed a hand over his chest, slumped in his seat, and scrunched his face. “Ouch. Don’t remind me. Like I said, it’s been forever.”

You both laughed at his little joke as he sat up straight again. You looked around the house and after seeing a few family pictures hanging, you decided to bring up another topic. “So..where’s the Mrs.?”

“Tch. She’s out at some random party.” He said as he stretched out his neck. You raised your brow and smirked at his answer.

“Oh? Is somebody upset he got left behind?” You teased which made Bakugou cackle a bit.

“Yeah right! Like I care about that nag. She could leave for an eternity and I wouldn’t care and neither would the kid. Besides, it’d just give me the opportunity to get a little closer to you.” He said as he leaned in a little closer and you did the same.

“Oh really?” You said with a smile.

“Really.” He replied back with a face that mimicked your own. Soon enough, his hand found a place on your inner thigh and gave it a squeeze. Your lips slightly separated with a tiny gasp and Bakugou definitely took notice of that. Things would’ve continued if it wasn’t for the sudden voice of a child.

“Y/N!” Katsuo said in excitement as he took notice of you on the couch. You and Bakugou jumped and quickly separated before the child could even get an idea of what was about to happen. You were quick to stand and greet the small boy as you crouched down to his level and gave him a hug.

“Hi Katsuo!” You said with your award winning smile. Katsuki watched from the couch as Katsuo went on and on about all the things he wanted to do today and the only thing that appeared in his head was a new family picture but with you in it instead of Leiko.

“Alright bud,” Bakugou said as he got up from the couch, walking to the two. “I gotta get to work but enjoy your day with Y/N, okay? And be good.” Bakugou said as he ruffled his boy’s blonde hair.

“I’m always good, dad!” The boy pouted as he swatted away his father’s hand. You laughed at their interaction and Bakugou chuckled before kissing the crown of his son’s head and walking to the front door.

“Bye Katsuo!” He said from the exit. You walked him to the exit and before he left he turned to you. He checked to make sure his son wasn’t watching before making his move. He grabbed your chin with his fingers to make you face him and softly spoke. “And I’ll see you later tonight, beautiful.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes at his compliment then said your thanks. You expected him to leave after that and so you tried to walk back to Katsuo but before you could, Katsuki pulled your wrist, grabbed your chin again, and pecked your cheek before exiting and slamming the door shut. You stood with a shocked expression as you felt blood rush to your cheeks.

Although you knew you felt something special for Katsuki, you knew he was married. And you weren’t no homewrecker! Even though some may see it as a harmless little peck on the cheek, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for his growing affections towards you. You sighed a bit before calming down and walking to the blonde boy waiting for you in the living room. You were going to enjoy your time with Katsuo but the return of his father stirred up a little confusion in your chest.

—

Hours passed. When you arrived it was 9:30 a.m. Now, it’s 10:00 p.m., and you expected Bakugou to be home soon. You didn’t really expect to see Leiko. Whenever Katsuki mentioned she was out partying, she never came back while you were around. It’s not that she was purposely avoiding you, she just tend to stay out into late hours of the night.

Katsuo was supposed to be in bed half an hour ago but his puppy eyes got the best of you and so you stayed up an extra hour to watch a quick movie with him. In the middle of the screening, he fell asleep on you and so you turned off the T.V and carried him to bed. After tucking him in, you walked away but felt a tug on your arm. Your turned to see Katsuo with sleepy eyes staring up at you. “Yes Katsuo?”

“Sing me to sleep again. Please Y/N,” the sweet boy asked. You smiled down at him and nodded. You took a seat on his bed side as you ran your fingers through his soft, spiked, blonde hair and sang.

As you sung Katsuo to sleep, you didn’t even notice the front door opening. Katsuki walked in feeling a little excited to see Y/N again but when he walked through the door he heard an angelic voice. He placed his bag down and followed the sound into his son’s room. Once he made it there, he stood in the doorway and listened to your voice and watched as you sung his child to sleep.

Your calming voice sent a blush to Katsuki’s face as he smiled and watched. Your voice was like honey. Smooth and sweet. The way you took care of Katsuo filled Katsuki with a type of happiness he never experienced before. He notice you ran your fingers through his son’s hair and Katsuki couldn’t help but feel a little envious of his own child.

“Don’t go away, stay another day~”

You finished the song and smiled as you saw Katsuo finally asleep. You leaned down and pecked his forehead before getting up to leave his room. As you looked towards the doorway, you jumped at the sight of Katsuki’s tall figure leaning against the frame.

“Katsuki, hey. I didn’t even realize you came home. How was work?” You asked. Your question made Katsuki smile, as it was similar to something a wife would ask her husband after a long day. It was something Katsuki never got to experience, even though he was already married. He smiled at you with kind eyes before tilting his head to signal you to follow him. You smiled softly and nodded as you followed Katsuki down the stairs.

—

For the past hour you and Katsuki had been laughing and talking. You followed Katsuki into the kitchen where he made you both some tea where you then both found seats in the living room. There, you talked some more and you both enjoyed the private company. Eventually, Katsuki grew bold and walked back into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Heh, real smooth Romeo.” You teased and Bakugou chuckled as he rolled his eyes as sat down. You both picked up another conversation and eventually reached your second glass.

“Thanks for always taking care of Katsuo the way you do, Y/N.” Bakugou said with a slight blush. And it wasn’t just the alcohol causing it.

“What do you mean?” You asked, your face holding a similar blush for the same reasons. Safe to say you were both a little tipsy tonight. Not drunk but filled with a little liquid courage.

“I don’t know..like a mom?” His words caught your attention and your gaze encouraged him to continue. “Katsuo..doesn’t have the greatest mom in the world. I think everybody knows that. Honestly, if she wasn’t around at all, Katsuo wouldn’t even know the difference. But you? You’re like the mother he never got....the mother he should’ve got.”

You felt a growing heat flow in your face and you smiled at the sweet compliment. You can’t lie, sometimes you did see Katsuo as your son. You didn’t have kids but you always wanted some. Having Katsuo around was like having a son of your own. “Awe, thanks Katsuki.”

“You shouldn’t thank me, it’s just insane how you’re the actual definition of perfect.” He said before taking a sip of wine.

“Stop it,” you said and playfully hit his arm again. You both put your glasses down and he laughed a bit before continuing.

“No, I’m serious. I mean, c’mon you’re beautiful, smart, kind, sassy,” he began.

“Yeah..and,” you said as you both began to face each other.

“You’re great with kids, you’re good at everything, you have a steady career, you have a passion,” he continued.

“Mhmm..” you said while smiling at his words. You shuffled a little bit closer to him on the couch and Bakugou smiled when he noticed.

“...You’re perfect Y/N.” He focused his gaze on you as he became entranced with your E/C eyes. He leaned in close and you did the same. “...You’re the perfect one for me.”

At those words, you both closed the gap between you two and kissed. Your lips were pressed together for a few seconds before you both pulled away for the same amount of time. During that time, Bakugou kept his lips hovering over yours before pecking your lips a few times and then giving you a real, passionate kiss. Due to the small amount of alcohol in your system you happily returned it. Your hands found way into his hair and his found home on your waist. When you took a small breath, Bakugou slipped his tongue in and you both fought for dominance. In the heat of the moment, Bakugou carried you to sit on his lap and you followed his lead. Your tongues continued to tangle as Bakugou’s hands caressed your body.

They moved down to the hill of your ass and gave it a firm squeeze. You moaned into the kiss and it was music to his ears. Almost as good as the sweet lullaby you sang an hour ago. Soon enough, his hands traveled under your shirt and bra to fondle your plush breast. This made you let go of the kiss and throw your head back as you released soft moans. Bakugou didn’t stop and went into kiss your neck. He left sweet pecks before he left a few hickeys. His mouth moved around your neck before he found your sweet spot, earning a needy sound from you. Bakugou began nipping at the spot and licking the soft skin. His actions caused your hands to tug at his hair and made your hips naturally grind against his center. This made Bakugou groan as he gently layed you on your back on the couch. His body found way in between your legs as he separated from your neck and took notice of your flushed face. He smirked at the sight and his eyes traveled to your shirt, where his hands were hidden under. Deciding to change that, his hands left your valley of breast to push your shirt and bra up to expose your chest.

“Beautiful...” was what he whispered before going in to take one of your mounds in his mouth. You gasped and squealed at the sensation of his mouth covering one breast and his hand massaging the other. Bakugou continued to mark up your chest, leaving love bites and bruises all over.

“Ngh...Katsuki..” you whined. Both your centers began to grind against each other as the two of you were pretty much dry humping one another. Bakugou bit at your nipple, causing you to squirm.

“Easy Princess, I got you. Daddy’s got you, Love.” He said as he used both hands to rub soothing motions into your bare waist. You settled as Katsuki kissed a trail back up to your neck and whispered into your ear. “I’m gonna take such good care of you tonight, Y/N.”

His hand glided off your chest, down your stomach and down your pants. His movements had the wetness between your legs growing and his husky voice definitely didn’t calm it down. His hands slid into your panties and his finger took a swipe at your slick.

“So wet...and it’s all for me..right baby?” He smirked against your cheek.

“Y-Yes Katsuki!” You said as you attempted to grind against his hand before Katsuki pulled it away.

“Try again,” he said with a seductive tone. You were confused on what he meant but you were growing so desperate for a touch. His touch. So your mind began to scramble and think. Master? No. Sir? No. Senpai? Hell no.

“..Daddy.” You softly said. You watched as Bakugou’s smirk grew before he kissed your cheek in approval.

“Good girl.” His finger soon returned to your center and after running it up and down a few times, he slowly pushed two in. You gasped at his thick length as Bakugou pumped his hand in and out of you. Wanting to test the waters a bit more, he slid in a third finger as he picked up the speed a bit.

“O-Oh my god!” Your hips began to grind against his hand and Bakugou curled his fingers. “Fuck!”

“Feel good, baby?” Bakugou asked as he began to grind against the underside of your thigh. Your lower body began to slightly shake as his fingers reached a sensitive spot.

“Yes Daddy!” You cried out. You felt the coil in your stomach tightening, signaling a familiar sensation to almost be reached. Growing more riled up and wanting more room on the couch, Bakugou began to throw the decor pillows off the couch. The pillows flew around the living room knocking a few things over, including the family picture. The sound reached your ears and the sight of the broken frame snapped you out of your pleasured state. Your eyes grew wide as you finally came to and realized what you were doing. “Ngh, no!”

You pushed Katsuki off of you and pulled your shirt back down to cover yourself back up. Bakugou looked at you in shock and confusion as he watched you sit up and settle down. “Y/N...?”

Your hands covered your face for a second before rubbing at your temples for a bit. “No, I- ..*sigh* I’m so sorry Katsuki.”

“Uh..no..I-..I guess that was my fault. I’m sorry I just...”

“Ugh..no. Katsuki it’s not that.”

��I just thought you..felt the same way,” he said as he sat back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, Katsuki I do, really, it’s just...”

“So then..why’d you stop?” He asked as he looked at you with a nervous and awkward smile.

“Katsuki..you’re married. I’m sorry, I really like you but..I just can’t bring myself to come onto someone who is already in a relationship.” You explained.

‘Wow. She really is a perfect person,’ Bakugou thought to himself. “Y/N, if that’s the problem then don’t worry about it. I don’t even love Leiko, much less like that bitch.” Bakugou moved in to wrap his arm around your waist but you pushed it away.

“So then why are you still with her?” You asked. Katsuki smirked at your words and laughed a little.

“S’a good question,” he said. Right after those words left his mouth, keys could be heard opening the door and in came the bitch herself.

“What’s a good question?” Leiko said as she looked around. She took notice of yours and Katsuki’s presence on the couch, along with the bottle of wine and empty, used glasses. “Well? Is somebody going to explain? What was the question?” Leiko asked as she walked into the house, closing the front door.

Bakugou smiled at you with full eye contact before standing up and facing his wife. “Why am I still with you?”

Leiko raised a brow at the question and her anger began to boil. “What?” She sternly asked.

“Why am I still with you? I don’t love you, I don’t like you, I only stayed with you because we had Katsuo, our child which you don’t even love. In fact, the only thing you do love is my money, or more so, money in general, and yourself. You’re a conceited ass bitch who’s just taking up space in my life. You’re suffocating Katsuo and I by just existing and you’re holding the title of my wife, a title that Y/N should have. So why the fuck am I still with you?” Bakugou said with a stern voice.

“You-...You’re with me because I’m the mother of your child.” Leiko said with hesitation in her voice.

“Are you? Because you’re never around to be a mother for him. Katsuo doesn’t even care whether you’re here or not. Your presence in the house doesn’t make a damn difference. If anything, Y/N’s more of a mother to Katsuo than you.” Bakugou replied.

You grew uncomfortable with the situation and made an attempt to leave. “Umm..I think I should go-“

“No,” Bakugou began. “You’re staying. I want you to see this thing through to the end, beautiful.”

“Beautiful?! The only woman you should be calling beautiful is your wife Katsuki!” Leiko complained. “Not that slut!”

Now you were a uncomfortable but you were not no slut and you definitely didn’t take shit from nobody. “Excuse me?” You said with attitude but before you could continue, Bakugou intervened.

“Call her a slut again and I’ll blow your ass to bits. Let’s not forget, you had the title of a whore before being called my wife.” Bakugou said with the intent to cause pain.

“Well I may have been a whore but at least I never cheated, which is what I’m sure you were planning on doing with her if I hadn’t come home.” Leiko said.

“You’re damn right I was! Lucky for you, Y/N’s a good person so nothing actually went down but if she gave me the chance, please fucking believe I’d take it in a heartbeat. Matter of fact, if she gave me the chance to wife her up and make her Katsuo’s new mom I’d do that in a heartbeat too.” Bakugou said while looking at you. You felt your heart speed up a little due to his confession but you turned your head to the side to hide your growing blush. Bakugou smirked at the sight before Leiko interrupted.

“What the hell are you trying to say?!” Leiko asked with anger.

“I’m saying I don’t love or like you and I never did! And after 2 years of getting to know Y/N after falling for her at first sight, I can finally fucking say that I’m in love with somebody and it’s her!” Bakugou turned to face you as his wife’s jaw dropped. “Y/N, I’m fucking in love with you. Alright? I have been for the past 2 years already, ever since I met you. And to the bitch behind me,” Bakugou said and turned to face Leiko. “If it wasn’t already obvious, we’re getting a divorce.”

Leiko was fuming as her face grew red with anger. She began laughing in disbelief. “Hah, fine! Fine whatever! Like I give a fuck! Y/N you can have him and the damn kid! I never wanted him anyway! The damn brat just gave me an excuse to keep Bakugou’s fat wallet around. But when you come crawling back, don’t expect me to say yes Katsuki!”

“Well don’t expect me to come crawling back, ‘cause if I’m able to get Y/N to give me a chance, then I won’t be needing anyone else except for her and my son. You can get the fuck out now. I’ll send you your shit and the divorce papers to wherever the fuck you decide to stay.” Bakugou said as he gestured to the door. Leiko screamed some more nonsense that nobody payed attention to and finally walked out the door and slammed it shut.

Silence rang throughout the house for a few minutes after the official split between the toxic couple. Bakugou turned to face you with a small smile as he stood infront of you.

“Well?” He asked.

“Heh, well what?” You asked with a laugh.

“I uh..heh, it wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you but I got my confession out...” Bakugou took a seat next to you and took hold of your hand. He brought it up to his lips, placing a peck to your knuckles before speaking. “..I love you Y/N. I know I do..and I know this might be a bad time to ask considering what just went down-“

“Uh, yeah. A really bad time,” you said with a little giggle.

“Right but umm..do you...how do you feel about me?” He asked with a nervous pulse beating throughout his body. He had to know. Do you love him just for his looks? Did you just want to fuck? Did you actually feel something towards him?

You smiled before using your other hand to grab hold of Katsuki’s shoulder and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. Katsuki’s body jumped in excitement but his hands were quick to hold onto your waist. This kiss was sweet and loving and lasted for some time before you pulled back. You smiled at the blonde as he looked at you with anticipating eyes.

“I love you too Katsuki.” Before you could even process anything, Katsuki had already pounced on you and pinned you to the couch in a hug. He had his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucked his head in the crevasse of your neck.

“God, I’ve been waiting years to hear you say those words.” Bakugou said before he began covering your face in thousands of loving kissed. You giggled at the ticklish and loving feeling and just smiled as you allowed Katsuki to show you his love.

—

Time passed and you and Katsuki stayed cuddled up on the couch. Nothing sexual, nothing nasty, just pure love induced cuddle time. Eventually, the late hours of the night exposed themselves and so you had to go.

“Katsuki, get up,” you said in a soft voice.

“No.” You laughed at his quick reply and began to push at his body to get him off.

“C’mon Katsuki seriously. I have to go home!” You said with another laugh.

“No. Katsuo and I are your new home.” He said, making his body become dead weight to stop you from going.

“Oof! Katsuki!! C’mon!” You whined out with a chuckle. Katsuki laughed with you but you kept trying. “You both are my new home, but my old home has comfy pjs for me to sleep in.”

“I can give you one of my shirts to sleep in. You’d look so amazing in them, princess.” He said with a smile as he imagined how you’d look prancing around in his clothes. It wasn’t the first time he thought about it but just knowing it was so close to becoming true sent butterflies all over his body.

“C’mon Katsuki. You already made me miss my class, the least you could do is let me go back to my apartment.” You said. Bakugou raised his head to look at you with a grin plastered on his face.

“You stayed on your own free will. S’not my fault you love talking to me. Let’s not forget what happened after our long talk too,” Bakugou said, hinting at your scandalous acts with him before you stopped anything else from happening. You rolled your eyes at his words before he spoke up again. “Matter of fact, maybe we should pick up where we left off,” he said and began kissing your cheek.

“Noooo, Katsuki, seriously. I’m tired, I just want to sleep.” You said with a smile.

“So sleep here,” he bargained. You looked at him with a raised brow, silently asking him to go on. “I was serious about having you stay over. You can sleep in my shirt and we can both fall asleep in the guest room.”

“Both of us in the guest room?” You questioned.

“Yeah. I’d let you sleep in my room but I’m not letting that bitch’s leftover presence contaminate you.” You laughed at his insults but allowed him to continue. “And yes both of us. I’m not going to sleep without my princess in my arms.”

You couldn’t lie, the sound of falling asleep in Katsuki’s arms in his clothes was pretty tempting. After taking a look at Katsuki and seeing the same puppy eyes that Katsuo was able to persuade you with, you gave in.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Bakugou said with a fist in the air as he cuddled in closer.

—

Bakugou finally let you go and allowed you to take a shower. While you were in there, he took a quick drive to the corner store and bought some compression shorts for you. When he returned he left one of his shirts and a pair of the compression shorts for you on the guest bed as he went to get ready for bed in his own room. You walked into the guest room and saw the shorts and shirt and put them on. You looked in the mirror and noticed the shorts weren’t even noticeable considering their tiny length and the large size of Katsuki’s shirt. While staring at yourself, Katsuki walked in wearing nothing but gray sweats. He took a glance at you and was drooling over your body in his clothes.

“...Wow,” he whispered but you heard. You turned to face him and smiled. You walked to him and wrapped you arms around his neck.

“Hey Suki, ready for bed?” You said. Bakugou smiled at the new name as a small blush dusted over his cheeks.

“Suki?”

“New name for you. Like it?” You asked.

“Love it.” He said and pecked your lips before picking you up and carrying you to the bed. He dropped you onto the soft mattress and flopped on top of you. You both laughed a little before getting under the blankets and cuddling up against each other again.

Time passed and Katsuki felt at peace finally with you in his arms. Like the missing part of him was finally filled in. You were so happy and felt so loved in the safety of his arms. Staying the night was definitely worth it.

“I’m so glad Y/N. I love you so much and I’ve wanted you for so long.” He said with your head tucked under his chin. You smiled at his words and nuzzled into his chest.

“Well congrats Katsuki. ‘Cause now, you have me.” Katsuki kissed the crown of your head before falling asleep. And when he woke up that morning to find you in the kitchen with Katsuo on your hip as you made breakfast, he smiled with a full heart as he walked to you both and remembered your words.

“You have me.”

A/N: Hey y’all, for a better experience with the story, I do recommend clicking the link where Y/N sang to Katsuo. I put two links in the story. The heels class and Y/N’s singing, (which is from Rio 2, Jewel’s lullaby) Don’t judge me, that’s the best lullaby ever😂 If you don’t know what a heels class is in dancing, it is basically...dancing with heels😂 Umm...yeah. THE ENDING IS SO RUSHED, IM SO SORRY!

TAGLIST: @sxcker4you @aomi04

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urlkssknt · 3 years

Text

last piece (2)

pairing - nanami kento x fem!gojou!reader x fushiguro toji

genre - parent!au, 5k

warnings - toxic behaviour, borderline stalking (a pi is hired), neglect(?), mentions of cheating, toji is a very shit father, mentions of divorce, ANGST, objectification, violence

a/n - i was so overwhelmed with the comments from the first chapter oh my god i was so happy, part of me was so convinced no one would be interested in reading this but thank you!!💗🤍🥺🥺🥺

masterlist

now playing - know better, tinashe

Like many men, Toji was too proud of himself, what for? He was still trying to find out; maybe it was the muscles giving him a physique similar to a Greek God, or the successful investment company he started a few years ago with you as his main supporter, or his four year old son who only resembles his father physically? No man would admit to their mistakes however Fushiguro Toji is no simple man. Letting you go was the only regret he had ever made in his miserable hellish life. Letting you walk out of the penthouse which you were both due to move out from, originally planning to settle into a bigger house with a garden full of fresh green grass and a spacious kitchen that had an open plan in preparations for your growing newborn: now Toji didn’t have the blessing of watching his son grow up from the tiny baby he knew Megumi to be. It was a mistake the prideful man would own up to wholeheartedly.

Toji wished he was the right man for you and Megumi.

Despite his solemn feelings, the emerald eyed man wouldn’t let another man into your life, even if the man could guarantee to provide you with endless love and happiness, Toji would rather just die. Of course the rational part of his brain told him that hiring a private investigator to follow your every move was plain wrong, Toji should respect the choices you make in your life. You’re smart, he knows that obviously, but sometimes you’re a little too slow to catch on. Maybe that’s why you still haven’t noticed the man who’s been following your every move, noting down what time you walk to work, what you buy at the small convenience store not far from Megumi’s primary school, how often your idiot brother comes over. Toji needed to know these things in order to know you’re safe. What he didn’t appreciate were the pictures of you and a taller blond man that landed on his desk in the morning, who happened to look vaguely familiar to Toji, he just couldn’t remember where from. Perhaps they went to the same university, however that couldn’t be it because Toji dropped out after a year. The thought was itching away in his brian like the nagging of the older woman who sits outside his office, completely incompetent for a simple receptionist job.

It had been exactly nine months and two days since Toji last saw your face or heard your soft voice, which meant he hadn’t seen Megumi for the same duration of time either, if you exclude the constant text updates and photos of the dark haired boy that you send almost weekly. Finally, when Toji’s eyes fall upon you they sharpen almost instantly, taken aback by the wide smile on your face and the small hands you hold between your own. Even Megumi had a joyous expression on his usually stiff face as he was held in the arms of the same blond man you had been pictured with, there was an air of comfort around the group of five. The loving scene made Toji feel sick to his stomach and completely dried his throat. He was lost for words, his brain short-circuited for a few seconds as Toji tried to process the image before him. Toji was hurt. How could you be happy without him? Sure your marriage vows no longer meant anything after such an expensive divorce but the stupid promise meant something to him, even if it was hypocritical.

Clenching his hidden fists into a tight ball, Toji wasn’t aware of the words passing through his lips, quite literally speaking before thinking. To hell with it, the business man thought. There was only one reason why Toji drove so far during the afternoon. The defeated face of the blond man was just an added bonus as you bid a farewell to the two identical twins, who Toji didn’t even notice in his blinding moment of rage.

Walking into your home was like everything Toji thought it would be. There was an undeniable warmth, the kind that you associate positive childhood memories with, not that Toji had any worth reminiscing over. A sweet scent of vanilla infiltrated his sinus, triggering old memories of your past relationship together to the front of mind.

As always, you helped Megumi out of his thick coat and crouched down to help peel the velcro straps off his shoes so the little boy could just slip his feet out. Megumi whispered a polite ‘thank you,’ before glancing at the still brooding man for a quick second. Nearly, you almost missed the look of deep worry swimming in Megumi’s light eyes as he continued to stare at his scary father. His dark green eyes and jet black hair reminded the boy of a panther, Megumi found panthers scary despite loving every kind of animal he comes across.

“Baby, can you go wait in your room?” you mustered up a smile as your hand rubbed gentle circles against the small boy’s back, hoping it would reassure the uneasiness that still lingers in his expression. Megumi nods his head despite a looming feeling creeping up along his skin as his clothed feet begin to shuffle against the hard floor. “You’re such a good boy ‘Gumi!” Your voice wavers ever so slightly as you watch your son take fearful steps away from you.

Once you were completely sure Megumi was safely in the comfort of his room, you turned your head to peer up at your ex-husband and finally look at him. Toji didn’t bother taking off his polished leather shoes as he walked into your home like it was his own, funnily enough the apartment Toji currently resides in was originally your apartment until you asked him to move in with you. He really pissed you off, just by looking at him you could feel the anger rising within you. One of your biggest pet peeves, after people chewing with their mouth open, is people completely ignoring you. Nowadays, Toji loves to ignore every text and call you’d send him in attempts of getting him to converse with Megumi, maybe even a short facetime call. It’s almost like he doesn’t get your constant notifications that would drive someone insane. Completely dismissing you, Toji invites himself to take a seat on the sofa which is placed right in front of the tv. He could see your reflection through the blank glass screen clearly almost like it was a mirror. Placed on the coffee table in front of him, Toji spotted a silver picture frame. It was a picture of Megumi’s first day of preschool, probably taken by another parent because Toji didn’t bother to show up. The lack of his presence didn’t stop the grin on Megumi’s face as you crouched down and held him securely by his waist. The pair of you looked so happy. Toji couldn’t even remember the last time Megumi smiled at him.

A sigh escapes from Toji’s scarred lips as he puts the photo back, facing downwards against the brown coffee table, no longer having the courage to continue looking at the still picture. “I want Megumi to stay with me.”

You were completely stunned for a second as you registered Toji’s harmless request. Never in your life did you think that the man sitting on your sofa would be the one to initiate making plans to spend time with Megumi, you couldn’t say you weren’t mad, but you felt more relieved. At least Toji wants to try, you thought, maybe he was still the sweet man you first fell in love with all those years ago. “Well, ‘Gumi has a swimming lesson tomorrow and football on-“

Toji’s voice comes out a little more rough than expected as he interrupts you, another thing you absolutely hate when people do. “I meant that I want him to live with me.” His words hang in the still stiff air that surrounds you both. For a third time, in the span of thirty minutes or maybe even less, you were left speechless. “He is a Fushiguro and my successor.”

A surge of blood rushed to your head, creating a ringing noise to sound in your ears as the forgotten rage returns, coursing through your veins, much deeper this time. Hearing the name of the God forsaken woman who not only stole your husband but now sleeps in the same bed that was yours caused you to spiral, losing all sense of composure. “Don’t you dare associate that name with my son,” you fought back with a venom dripping in your tone as you quickly charged over to where the burly man sat, “He will never be a Fushiguro!”

“You think I’m just gonna sit around whilst you whore yourself out to the dickhead next door?” Toji’s eyes snapped upwards in your direction, making you jolt in surprise. The pools of emerald in his eyes darkened with such an intensity they looked animalistic like he was ready to pounce on you if you made the slightest movements. “My son isn’t even mine anymore.” Standing up to his full height, Toji towered over you with ease, he was a big man. You knew of this tactic that he uses to appear more powerful, especially used in his business meetings to assert some kind of dominance to put his gigantic ego to rest. It felt intimidating, it made you feel lesser than him. However, you had no sympathy for him, not a single cell in your body felt the slightest bit sorry, your heart remained dead in his presence. Toji dug his fucking grave so he should lay in it. Why should you take the blame again? During most nights of your divorce, your older brother would cradle a wailing Megumi whilst you would be in the living room of your brother's apartment crying about what you did wrong. Why couldn't you help Toji out of his toxic situation? It was never your fault, you could never save a man who didn’t want to be saved.

You couldn’t recognise the man glaring down at you as if you were his sworn enemy. The green eyes that would once gaze back at you with such warmth, it was all you needed, were seething with a sharp icy look. This was a side to Toji you had never witnessed before.

“…You’re hurting me Toji,” you made an attempt to put a distance between the two of you but it only caused the darked haired man to latch onto you tighter, as if he didn’t have plans on ever letting you go. The fear in your body began to rise the longer Toji stayed latched onto you. Your blood ran cold as your heart beat rose to such a dangerous speed, you could feel yourself becoming light-headed.

“Mama, I wan’ eat-“ the words fall from Megumi’s tongue as does the stuffed teddy creating a soft ‘thud’ as it hit the floor. Instantly, both you and Toji whip your heads to the sound of a small voice so quickly you nearly get whiplash, only to see Megumi in his pyjamas standing with the same fearful expression from before. The trembling of his lips catches your teary eyes as a wail threatened to escape from disbelief. Taking advantage of Toji’s state, you escaped his grasp and quickly fell to your knees harshly, kneeling in front of your scared baby.

“Daddy was just giving me a hug,” your fingers began to tremble as you reached out to gently wipe the tears streaming down Megumi’s chubby cheeks. It was a stupid excuse, you hoped Megumi would believe your feeble attempt of a lie, praying the actions he saw between his parents wouldn’t scar him for life. “He just missed me so much.” The words burned against your throat as you tried to keep your own tears at bay. But you needed to be strong, for Megumi.

The little boy continued to sob in your embrace, fat tears being soaked up by the soft cotton of your shirt, one hand running up and down his back whilst the other caressed the short strands of hair at the back of his head. Both of you stayed in the same position for what felt like hours. Continuous gentle touches that soothe the worry pressing down like a weight against Megumi’s chest, soft whispers of it’s okay baby, mama is here. It was your turn to worry about the precious boy in your arms. The frightened look from earlier wouldn’t leave your mind, it was similar to the face you’d make in your teens when you would sit in your bed, fearing over miniscule worries. Choosing to deal with it later, you exhale a shaky breath, trying to ground yourself from the events which took place. It was all so quick, you didn’t even notice Toji leaving, almost as if he was a vengeful ghost who came back to terrorise you as punishment.

Toji left almost immediately. Without even bothering to say goodbye. He couldn’t. Not as his son’s scared face was fresh in his mind like the small dents in your arms. You could only tell the familiarity between the father and son physically, from their dark black strands of hair to their sharp noses; everything else about Megumi comes from you. All his best parts. His big grin, his melodic laughter, his kindness. All you. Megumi was better off growing up with a loving single mother than having an absent father and uncaring stepmother. As you tried to calm down your anxious son, Toji would go back to the apartment that no longer felt like his home, wondering why he didn’t give himself to you completely all those years ago. It would’ve saved him from years of heartache and yearning for a woman he could never have.

idiot: I’m here for you

idiot: You know that

idiot: I’m coming over so I’ll take of you and Megs, don’t worry, I’ll fix everything for you

idiot: Just leave it to me, okay?

Satoru was always protective of you, more so after the discovery of your husband’s infidelity. He was the one who found your new apartment, a good school for Megumi to attend, a job so you’d have a stable income, the lawyers needed to rush your divorce so you’d no longer have any ties with the fucking bastard. Satoru only had you in his life, his little sister who would do absolutely anything for him. You did so many things to help him when he was experimenting with his sexuality. Pretending the boys who were caught leaving your house were there for you, and not Satoru. You were the only one who didn’t treat him like some diseased creature who needed to be locked up. As sad as it was, all the disastrous events that occurred in your relationship with Toji, just put Satoru on a pedestal in your family, suddenly he was no longer the weird outcast but finally received the title of being the family heir.

After helping the four year old eat his dinner, which consisted of the most simplistic thing Satoru could put together and find in your kitchen, a big bowl of cereal. It wasn’t even the kind Megumi liked, still the little boy didn’t complain when his freakishly tall uncle presented him with a bowl of the plain wheat cereal instead of his normal coco pops. Satoru may be the CEO of a successful company but he couldn’t cook even if his life depended on it.

“How’s school, Megs?” asked the eldest Gojou sibling as he took a seat opposite the dark haired boy, with his own bowl of cereal. “Got any new friends?”

“Yuuji and Sukuna,” the little boy replied bluntly, his view shifted from the soaked beige cereal pieces swimming in milk to the hallway, hoping to see your figure appear. As soon as Gojou stepped foot into your home, he whisked Megumi away from your arms, leaving you to retreat to your room. Megumi was afraid. Did he not do enough to make you happy? Why would his dad shout at you?

Just like magic, you walked into the kitchen with the smallest smile on your face, in a different set of clothes, much more comfier than before, not an ounce of makeup could be spotted. Intently, Megumi’s eyes became fixated on your every move until the seat beside him was filled. He couldn’t help wanting to sit in your lap, if this was any other day, Megumi would be met with your protests, telling him that he needed to sit in his own chair. But today, you made no comments as he held his small arms out, you immediately knew what the small boy wanted, so you let Megumi curl up on your lap.

“Did you seriously give him cereal?” You stared at your brother with disbelief. There’s a fully functioning stove and oven in your kitchen, why couldn’t Satoru have made a genuine meal? You partly blamed yourself for thinking your brother could act like an adult for more than thirty minutes when he was a child himself. Once an idiot, always an idiot. “He doesn’t even like this type, I eat this.”

Satoru shrugged his shoulders as he continued to feed himself, not paying attention to the slight edge in your voice. Before the older man could defend himself against any more of your snarky remarks, Megumi begins to stir and whine about being hungry, whilst adding how ‘Toru is a meanie.’ Satoru’s mouth drops at the sound of Megumi’s accusations reaching his ears, making the grown man loose grip on his spoon in anticipation, preparing himself for the hell you’d give him. Nothing could stop you when Megumi was involved, the little boy was like your kryptonite. Kids are brutal.

“Satoru, you had one job!”

Adding salt to the wound, Megumi stuck his tongue out at his uncle, with a cheeky gleam in his eyes. The little shit, Satoru began cursing out the four year old as you continued to scowl him, it was the same thing over and over again - Megumi is a child, you’re an adult, you should know better, you’re his uncle. Satoru sat there in his chair with a straight face, no longer enjoying his breakfast-dinner. The poor man felt like his mother was telling him off for something he didn’t do, in this case Satoru really didn’t do anything. Yet, he knew better than to tell on his nephew, mainly because you wouldn’t believe Satoru anyway since your precious Megumi could never do anything wrong. After a few more painful insults that Satoru had to pretend to not hear, you set Megumi down in the living room to let him watch whatever cartoon he wanted as it was a weekend, and you truthfully couldn’t be bothered to help him practice writing especially since his handwriting was so tragic.

You took the two, now empty, bowls of cereal from the table to the sink so you could wash them. Quickly, your mind became preoccupied with the events that occurred earlier. You sighed deeply.

“Come stay with me this weekend,” Satoru offered kindly. He could see the gears of your brain turning, you’re calculating every possible scenario and outcome, probably the worst ones too. A blank expression covers your face as the water flows from the tap and your hand holding the sponge stills. Warm hands cover your own and give your palms a gentle squeeze, which was so reassuring, you weren’t alone, you had Satoru. He takes the wet sponge from your hand as well as the dirty bowl he had eaten from. “I’ll take you and Megs somewhere nice, we can go to that restaurant you like-”

“I’m scared.”

The sound of the tap running stopped. The objects held between Satoru’s large hands were placed at the bottom of the sink, no longer important. His wet hands touched your clothed shoulder, turning you to face him. Unlike your brother, you weren’t blessed with your father’s tall genetics so you had to lift your head to meet his crystal eyes.

“W-what if he takes Megumi?” The feelings which you thought you had dealt with resurfaced. It felt suffocating as if you were drowning in the thoughts of Toji coming to take your son away, never letting you see him again. The image of his violent expression wouldn’t escape your mind. Your head dropped onto your brother's chest, small tears fled down your face as exhaustion began to overtake you.

Two arms wrapped around your body, caging you between them. You felt safe in the moment.

“I won’t let the bastard near our Megumi,” Satoru promises with a sense of determination, letting Toji off the hook was always his biggest regret, Satoru wanted to kill him for making you feel so worthless. “Never.”

nanami kento: I’ll come by at 9:45AM to pick you and Megs up

Nanami stared at his phone for what felt like hours when it was realistically just a few minutes. He tried telling himself that it was reasonable that you hadn’t replied yet, it had only been a few minutes, you’re probably busy doing something. That something he prays isn’t reconciling with your ex-husband. That is the last thing Nanami wants to happen. The grown man is brought out of his thoughts at the familiar sound of a ding coming from his phone. Even for work, Kento had never rushed to his phone over a text.

you: okay

Just ‘okay’? One word? That was your response? Not even a smiley face? Now the grown man started acting like a teenager who has just learnt that the girl he likes is talking to another guy, Nanami knew he was overreacting, it wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be in his head. It was just a text. Nothing more.

For the rest of the morning, Nanami carried a defeated look as he got his kids ready for their swimming lesson. Nothing was more stressful than trying to get Sukuna to calm down and not throw a tantrum, when Nanami mentioned that you and Megumi would be coming, the restless boy stopped whining. Of course his most chaotic son could be tamed with your presence, Nanami couldn’t blame Sukuna in the slightest.

With both sons wearing their backpacks, filled with a towel and extra clothes, the blond man ushered them out the door of their apartment and told them to wait in the hallway. Much to his dismay, both pink haired boys stood behind their towering father, patiently waiting for their friend to come out of the door. It took one knock on your door for you to open up.

“Hi,” as always there was a smile on your face as you greeted him. The air was nearly knocked out of Nanami’s lungs at the sight of it. The skin under your eyes was swollen, anyone would notice that, you didn’t even bother to conceal the dark rings forming under your eyes. Maybe you weren’t resolving your issues with your past partner. “Hi boys!”

Yuuji runs across the small distance between you and latches himself to your leg like he hadn’t seen you in years. “Hi honey!” The term of endearment shocks you for a moment. Gently, your hand rakes through his pink soft hair as you throw Nanami a puzzled look, asking him for an explanation of some sorts.

“We watched Matilda, Yuuji thinks you’re like Ms Honey,” the explanation was just as cute as when Yuuji said it, your heart nearly swelled from the sweetness. Finally, a genuine smile spreads across your lips, reaching ear to ear. It caused the beating of his thundering heat to quicken to a pace it hasn’t in years.

Today was the day Kento was sure he’d have a heart attack and it wouldn’t be caused by his irritable boss. Seeing you in your normal work attire which mainly consisted of tight pencil skirts wrapping around your legs in a way which made the man jealous of a piece of fabric caused his head to spin but when you walked out of the women’s changing room in a bathing suit hugging your curves snuggly, Kento was sure he was going to pass out. It must be a crime for an individual to look as amazing as you did. And it was only a Saturday morning. As soon as you spotted Kento on the other side of the large pool, stood with the three boys who were amusing each other about a new cartoon episode, you gave him a little wave before making your way over. Kento couldn’t focus on anything but you. Maybe it was the chlorine of the pool getting to him.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar man stopped and startled you abruptly, there was a smirk on his face as his eyes gave you an obvious once-over, particularly stopping at the view of your breasts. “You wanna come swim with me?”

You felt disgusted. Men like him made you want to commit horrible unlawful acts, just to teach them a lesson and a taste of their own medicine. There was nothing you could cover yourself with to hide your body from the man’s intense stare.

“Darling, is he bothering you?” Kento wraps one of his arms around your shoulders, creating an envelope to make you feel safe, not to mention you could feel the muscles flex against you. You stared in awe at the man beside you. He looked down to give you a reassuring smile, you were so glad Kento came over and stepped in, otherwise you wouldn’t know what would’ve happened.

The man threw his hands in the air as if he was innocent. The stupid look on his face made Nanami want to punch him, however he couldn’t, for multiple reasons. It wouldn’t look good for the company he works for and his children were here, he’d never willingly expose them to violence. “I didn’t know she had a man, you should tell her to stop dressing like a slut.”

You whispered a small ‘come on, let’s go,’ to the blond, you wanted to brush off the incident like it never happened, like you have never disrespected in the first place. It pissed Nanami off. Pleading once more, Kento finally listened to you and let you lead him away by the hand. If this had occurred under different circumstances, Kento would have been thrilled about having such a close contact with you but it felt wrong.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Kento leaves you speechless as he begins to walk away, following the man who had the nerve to make comments about you. It wasn’t hard to find him as it was a private swimming pool, one that was owned by a friend so if Kento makes a mistake, it wouldn’t be hard to cover it up. The men’s bathroom was located in the men’s locker room so he wasn’t technically lying to you. Nanami took a moment to look around for any bystanders, just as an extra precaution. It was only Kento and the man in the locker room. He stood by the wall of wooden lockers, probably getting ready to leave. The man was much slimmer compared to Kento’s build, who tried to work out and go to the gym as much as possible, it became harder with his son’s but he somehow learned how to manage.

“Hey asshole,” Kento’s deep voice caught the other nameless man’s attention, before he knew it, Kento’s cocked fist collided with his nose creating a loud cracking sound upon contact.

“Y-you broke m-my nose!” The man on the floor shouted with a shaky voice and eyes full of terror for the blond man towering over him. He held a hand up to his nose and pulled away only to see his hand covered in his blood.

Kento crouched down to be level with the bleeding man on the floor. He smirked, “I think you slipped and fell, buddy.”

It was a satisfying sight. Turns out he’d have to call his friend after all.

When Kento walked out of the locker room, acting like nothing happened, he immediately caught your attention. Kento swore he saw your eyes zone in on his chiselled torso before you looked away, he blamed the pink hue of your cheeks on the warmth of the large pool.

As soon as he was near enough, you rushed up out of your seat, gripping onto his hand with the red angry tissue. “Kento, why is your hand bruised?”

“Have to protect my wife,” Kento grumbled his answer as he felt a little embarrassed at his failed attempt at flirting. How could others do this so easily? He felt like his stomach was going to fall out of his ass.

“Violence is never the answer,” you told him as your thumb softly caressed his hurt knuckles, a small part of you felt dumbstruck that such a collected man would lose control for you, or maybe you were reading too much into it, Kento would’ve done it for anyone, you assume. But for now, you’d subject yourself to the fantasy growing in your mind. “but thank you… husband.”

🏷 @irreverent-dream @mystic-poteto @the-amaranthine @ys2800 @aphrodani @thoreeo @bryandechartisasmolbean

➳ next

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #toji x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk nanami #toji angst #series: last piece

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

calculated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Some people would call you far too serious. Some would call you stuck-up. And some would call you a bitch. But to freshman Jeon Jungkook, you’re the head Calculus I TA noona – and he’s determined to fuck you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, fingering, m-receiving oral, doggy, dirty talk); non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin lol

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

"I think Jungkook likes you."

The lead of your mechanical pencil snapped suddenly. Stupid soft graphite. You glared at it, annoyed, and brushed the broken piece away to complete the equation.

"Who?"

"I think he's taking the afternoon class."

You double-checked the last question and handed him his homework back. "Jimin, you used the wrong equation, here and here."

Park Jimin frowned, face falling when he saw all your corrections. Being one of your parents' friends' kids, your parents and his parents naturally asked you to help him out when he entered the same university as you. You pretty much figured the likelihood of Jimin speaking to you was zero, since he was a dance major and you were a graphics design major. You shrugged and agreed.

Except you forgot you were also the head Calculus I TA and Calculus I was a required course for all students. And, turns out, Jimin wasn't that great at math. That's why you were sitting on cushions at your coffee table in your apartment with Park Jimin, watching a music program as you checked his homework.

"Oh."

Jimin began to look over your arrows and circles. You never actually gave him the answer. He usually ended up forgetting a step in the middle and thus fucked the answer. Usually he caught on easily once you pointed it out.

You stared at the television screen, listening to the latest hit. Not bad. Catchy.

"I think I should tell you because he's kind of reckless," Jimin was saying.

You placed a hand under your head and took a sip of your tea, distracted by the cute MC with the blue hair. He had a cute smile. It reminded you of a bunny.

"Who?"

"Jeon Jungkook," Jimin snapped impatiently.

You raised an eyebrow and faced Jimin. "Oi. I'm correcting your homework here. I could just correct it tomorrow and hand it back to you with red marks instead," you threatened.

He pouted at you, his full lower lip sticking out. "Sorry, noona."

You sighed. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel ancient." You turned your body so you faced him as he scowled at his homework. "Okay, okay, I'm listening now. What did you want to say?"

Jimin put his pencil down immediately and began to chat like an excited gossiping auntie. Round brown eyes getting rounder, glad for a break from his math homework. You didn't want to get him started, but he was going to nag you incessantly until you let him talk.

"I think he sits in the back?" Jimin pondered. "Dark longish hair, wears a lot of black. Looks scary when he's thinking because his eyes go really wide and he furrows his brows."

You twisted your mouth to the side and thought. You only attended the class when they had quizzes or exams because during lectures the professor didn't need your help. Mostly you remembered people by their personal scores or their handwriting, because you graded everything as the head TA. Looking at people's faces wasn't really necessary, unless you were looking for cheating.

"Can't recall. I remember his handwriting though. Not bad," you said, shrugging. "I think he's pretty highly ranked at the moment."

"I think he likes you."

You scoffed. "How did you come to that consensus?"

Jimin tapped his temple sagely. "Intuition."

"If only you used that intuition on Calculus."

He frowned at you, pouting again. You let out a puff of air, conceding.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Jimin scratched the back of his head. "Well, er... I'm just warning you."

"... Is he a serial killer or something?"

"No, no, no!" Jimin waved his hands on the air hurriedly. "He's really nice. But he can be kind of, uh... forward."

"How old is he?" you asked, glancing at the television for a moment as you took another long sip of your tea.

"Two years younger than me."

You choked.

"What?" you squeaked between coughs. Jimin hurried over and patted your back as you struggled, becoming pink in the face. "The fuck? Tell him to find someone his own age."

"I did!" Jimin whined. "But he's stubborn."

You rolled your eyes. "You're warning me that I have to break a poor freshman's heart?"

"Kind of."

You rubbed your throat. "Hmph. Darn whippersnappers these days."

Jimin smacked your arm, laughing. "I thought you weren't ancient?"

"I am now knowing some kid is fantasizing about their fucking Calculus TA."

You had said your comment sarcastically. You fully expected Jimin to make some joke, but he froze up a little. You looked over to him. He looked somewhat guilty, like a lost puppy who got caught stealing food. You sighed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I won't chew your friend's heart out. Finish your homework, so I don't drop you off too late. You have practice in the morning, yeah?"

"Y-yeah, thanks."

Forward, huh?

An understatement.

You were sitting in one of the math department offices, laptop open, your drawing tablet in your lap, thinking. The conversation with Jimin happened about two days ago. In that time, you hadn't attended either morning or afternoon class yet, since it was only lectures. Not that it mattered, because lecture halls were massive. If this Jungkook kid sat in the back, then you probably wouldn't be able to see him anyway. At the moment, however, you were preoccupied with your assignment, to design a logo. Logo designing was difficult, especially since a school assignment didn't exactly have a real client attached to it to ask questions.

Technically these were Calculus I office hours, but who attended office hours? Nobody.

Who attended any type of calculus office hours?

Yeah, exactly.

You spent the time doing homework with the door open. You were the only TA that actually showed up for the office hours. Every other TA said it was a waste of time. It was. You still came through; in the off chance some poor kid decided her grade mattered. You felt bad since the actual professor wasn't very patient when people needed extra help. Also, technically you were the head TA, so you did have a bit more responsibility than the others.

Your black boots were perched on the desk as you sat back in your office chair, sketching a few ideas. If a member of the math department saw you, you would probably get in trouble. Thankfully, the math department was usually deserted. Math wasn't exactly the most social subject.

You took a sip of your tea from your thermos, tapping your tablet pen on your black jean-covered thigh.

"You look even better close-up, noona."

A clear, silvery, male voice cut through the silence. The voice came from the doorframe right in front of the desk. You frowned, slowly lifting your head from your tablet. How had you not heard him? Were you really that focused on your assignment?

Chucky black sneakers. Black cargo pants, slim fit. Distressed black sweater, hands casually in his pockets. Broad shoulders. Lightly tanned skin. Sharp jawline. A tiny mole under a mischievous smile. Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with those sparkling dark brown orbs. Long hair slicked back, with only a few wispy strands on his forehead.

"Calculus I question?" was your response.

His smile quirked a little higher. The young man didn't have a backpack with him. Didn't even have a piece of paper stuck under his arm. Wasn't even trying to pretend that he needed help.

"I have questions."

He didn't elaborate. You lowered your legs, placing your tablet on your laptop.

"This is Calculus I office hours. For calculus questions only."

His eyes flickered to your laptop and tablet. Back to you.

"Is this what the TAs should be doing during office hours?"

Suddenly, you could feel your pulse in your ears. Point taken.

"What do you want?"

He slid into the chair across from the desk, hands still in his pockets. Watching you carefully, still smiling thoughtfully. It should have been unnerving, but there was no malice in that smile. Maybe you were imagining it though, so you kept your guard up.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

Yeah, I guessed, you thought wryly. "And my name is on the syllabus. What do you want?"

He tilted his head at you, studying your face.

"How do you know Jimin-ssi?"

Isn't Jimin older than you, punk? "Our parents are friends."

He nodded slowly. He looked around the windowless office, at the three papers tacked to the wall – outdated notices – to the still open door, to the desk with your laptop, tablet, and backpack. Then to you, sitting back in the black office chair, eyebrow raised, hands half-in the sleeves of your gray flannel, cropped black sweater underneath.

"I think you're beautiful, noona."

Your brain winced at the compliment and your hormones looked up from the abyss. Your brain scolded them to go back to their hidey-hole. You clicked your tongue.

"I'm too old for you."

There was an ever-so-slight tick of his head. His eyes shifted downward and then flicked back up to you, almost shyly, if it wasn't for the small smirk dancing on his lips.

"We both know such a mindset is outdated."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The fuck? Your hormones peeked out again. Your brain was too distracted with trying to find a comeback to tell them to fuck off. You figured you better cut this off right now before it went too far.

"This whole conversation is inappropriate," you said evenly, standing up from the chair and rolling it back. You walked around the desk and stood in front of it, balancing your ass against it. You crossed your arms over your breasts. "You should leave."

He slowly, slowly gazed up at you. Why did he look so satisfied? Your heart did a little three beat skip. Stop it. Keep it together. Jungkook got to his feet, hands still in his pockets. Then he pulled them out and pushed his sleeves up.

Oh?

Tattoos ran up his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve. Ink black against light tan, flexed muscle. He was not a skinny pretty boy. You were so busy staring at his arms that you barely registered him placing them casually on either side of you, face right next to yours. Now you were staring down at his broad chest, at his black distressed sweater.

"Excuse me?" you snapped testily, lifting your head to look into his smug eyes.

"I won't touch you," Jungkook murmured quietly. "Unless you ask me to."

This punk ass bitch.

You narrowed your eyes. "What makes you think I would?"

That small teasing smile came back.

"Well, for one, you haven't actually told me you have absolutely no interest yet."

Your hormones prodded you excitedly. Your brain told them to shut up. Your eyes moved to the open door behind his head, looking into the empty hall, trying to keep a balanced, even tone. It came out a little sharper than you intended.

"Door's wide open."

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Jungkook purred, breath on your cheek.

You tried not to react even though your hormones were fucking losing it. "What about you?" you shot back sharply.

You heard Jungkook chuckle. "Fuck no I'm not." Your heart jerked heading the crude word come out so daintily and casually from his lips. "I want to be seen with you. All the time. In every position."

You finally tore your eyes from the open door to give him the side-eye. "Real big words there."

Jungkook smirked. "I'm giving you a chance to tell me no. It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this desk right now and fuck your brains out."

You sucked in a breath. Accidentally. Not on purpose. There's absolutely no way Jungkook would have noticed unless he was literally right next to you. Which he was. Shit. He leaned in closer, still not actually touching you.

"You like that idea?" he breathed, the lust evident in his voice, not even trying to hide it.

"I am not some easy bitch at the club, Jungkook. This is the fucking math department," you scolded, eye-level to the base of his neck, wanting very badly to make out with it.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. He pulled his head back, and now you were face-to-face with those dark, dark eyes, falling, falling, your body screaming at you to do more. And still you didn’t, torn between reason and instinct.

"I'm so pissed," he growled, breath against your lips. "That the first time I hear you say my name, I wasn't watching your pretty lips form it."

Those few strands brushed against his exposed forehead, framing his furrowed brow and those intense dark brown eyes, making you breathless, telling you that you should, even though the last shreds of reason were telling you, do not, do not, do not give in to Jeon Jungkook.

"It's the middle of the damn day," you murmured.

"And you make me horny every second of every day," he groaned, so close now that his nose almost touched yours. "With your stem stare, your assertive stride, your well-spoken words, and your beautiful body that demands to be kissed, loved, fucked." He panted, shoulders shaking. "God, I want you under me so bad. You have no idea, noona."

Resolve? Hello, where are you?

You raised an eyebrow. "You think you're enough for me?"

His dark eyes gleamed.

"I know I am."

Your eyes flickered to the open door, the vacant hall, feeling Jungkook's body heat hovering so close, so close to you, and then you shifted your eyes back to him. Your brain was screaming at you and your hormones bonked your brain silent. The words at the tip of your tongue came tumbling out, nothing to hold them back anymore.

"Let's see."

And then you kissed him.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate, his large hands leaving the desk, grabbing your waist, ramming his crotch into you. You gasped against his soft lips and he slid his tongue inside, playing with yours, moaning, kissing you hungrily. His fingers pressed into you through your clothes, strong, tight, unforgiving. Your eyes flew open, surprised at his eagerness. He retreated his tongue and nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it lightly. You shivered, feeling him lift you onto the desk, pushing your legs open with his hips, grinding against you. He kissed down your chin, lifting your head impatiently, moaning against your skin. Every gentle kiss a jolt to your system, contrasting with his rough hands kneading your waist, pulling you close against his firm body, the fucking desk cutting into your thighs, eyelids fluttering.

There was movement at the door.

You froze.

Jungkook’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking sharply. You choked back a wanton moan, seeing a familiar face. A familiar, plump smile with cute, lovely eyes. He waved a small hand at you and reached for the doorknob, locking it from the inside before winking at you and closing the door silently.

Park fucking Jimin.

That bas–

Your thought was sharply cut off by Jungkook nipping at your throat, hissing as he rolled his hips into your thigh, a distinct bulge pressing into you. He yanked down the front of your sweater, sucking on the space right between your collarbones. You whimpered and shuddered, wrapping a leg around his waist and hooking him towards you, hands finally leaving your chest and grabbing his, fingers getting caught in the holes of his sweater.

“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m so fucking hard already because you’re so fucking hot.”

You caught yourself against the desk, elbow slamming onto the wood. You winced. “I haven’t done shit,” you said, surprised to feel your lips slightly swollen.

Jungkook grinned. “You don’t have to. Just you below me is enough.”

You glared at him and he bent over the desk, grabbing the back of your head, pushing your face to his, kissing you again, stealing your breath. It was the perfect mix of force and desperation, leaving you yielding, back arching as he sucked on your tongue, bobbing his head up and down slightly to pull on it. You tried not to make noise – everything was already too noisy anyway – only crying out softly when he let you go. Now you were on your elbows with Jungkook towering over you, licking his lips, the spare strands now stuck to his exposed forehead. His eyes roamed over your body before landing back on your face. You gave him your best questioning look.

He chuckled darkly. “I want to rip all your clothes off, but something tells me you will be upset with me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because this is still the middle of the math department, let me remind you, Jungkook.” You huffed. “I don’t live here. Don’t get crazy.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Say my name again, noona. God, let me watch your delicious lips speak my fucking name.”

You raised your eyebrows. Then you felt his hands on your jeans, undoing the button, making you jump. The zipper going down, down. He yanked at the seam, digging it into your already wet pussy, shoving your panties into your slit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

Oh fuck. That sounded kind of pathetic.

He bit his lower lip, and yanked again.

“J-Jungkook, ah…” Your eyelids fluttered, trying to keep your strict demeanor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, firmly gripping the waistband of your jeans and pulling them down your ass, half-dragging your panties down. “You like that, noona? Do you want me to be rough with you?”

You prayed to the higher power that he would just take the damn hint and not make you say it. But Jungkook was dragging your panties back up, the thin black fabric being sucked into your folds and ass as he pulled them far too high. You gasped, trying not to look down, trying not to look at his face. But he grabbed your chin, dragging you back to him, making you open your glazed eyes, making you see his excited expression.

“Look at me, noona.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jungkook held the front of your panties and pulled, hard. You had to choke back a moan, the fabric nearly ripping, rubbing harshly against your clit. You felt the squelch of you getting wetter, hearing it clearly as he yanked at it, stimulating your clit.

“Tell me you don’t like it, noona,” Jungkook whispered hotly, letting go of your chin. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You spread your legs involuntarily, trying very hard not to make a fucking sound, but it was already obvious by your fists clenched against the desk, your widespread legs, and your pussy lips practically sucking your panties in, so much so that they nearly disappeared into you.

Jungkook snuck a glance down, gasping softly at your glistening pussy being tortured by your panties. He dropped to his knees and you had only one second to be confused before Jungkook’s tongue licked up your slit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, leaving your sounds limited to muffled whimpers as he lapped at your juices, groaning into you. Your entire lower body vibrated as he teased your covered clit, smushing the fabric into your deeper, rougher. Your hips strained, trying to hump his face but only digging your panties into you harder.

You removed your hand from your face, biting on your tongue to regain some semblance of thought so you fucking talk.

“T-take it off…” you gasped. You looked down, seeing his mischievous eyes above your quivering mound, licking his lips slowly, pink tongue tracing the contours of his mouth.

Jungkook raised his hand.

Smack!

This time you had to actually shove to knuckles into your mouth and mute your squeal as pain radiated through you, your pussy stinging. He slapped you again, right on your clit, hard, making your throw your head back and nearly hit the desk, hips raising to meet him. Oh, God. He pressed his finger against your aching clit, rubbing hard, standing up to bend over you, an impossibly strong presence as he pleasured you.

“Say it, noona,” he breathed. “Tell me you like getting your pussy spanked.”

He was rubbing your clit so hard that you felt your hips raise into it, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” he warned menacingly, voice so low it ripped through you.

You tore your knuckles out of your mouth. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, Jungkook, I love it when you spank my clit, fuck, please, fuck.” The words came jumbling out in a rushed, half-panicked whisper, cut off by your sharp gasp as your orgasm clawed into you. You felt Jungkook slap his free hand over your mouth, shutting off your wail as your throbbed into his hand, turning into helpless whines as he spanked your clit hard and fast, accentuating your high with waves of sudden, aching pain. You pushed his hand away, pressing your head against the desk, gasping.

“Harder, please, Jungkook, harder.”

He was staring at your fucked-out face, massaging your throbbing pussy with his palm, coating his fingers with your cum. Your voice a thin moan, hips rutting into him.

“Believe me, I want to,” he snarled. “I want to so fucking bad, noona, but we’re already loud enough and you’re making a fucking mess.”

He pulled your panties down, nearly useless at this point and roughly shoved two fingers into you. You gasped, tongue lolling out and he took the chance to put two fingers of his free hand into your mouth, rubbing your wet tongue. You could feel every joint, the calluses of his fingertips as he thrust them into you, slopping, wet sounds accompanying his movements.

“Fuck, look at you, noona, sucking in my fingers, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jungkook murmured, centimeters away from your face. “I haven’t even fucked you with my cock yet and you’re already taking me so well.”

If you could think, you probably would have a snappy response, but Jungkook was stuffing his fingers into your mouth and scissoring the others inside your pussy, driving you insane. You made eye contact with Jungkook, him and his blown-out pupils, his lips trembling as he rammed his fingers into your holes faster, harder, sliding you up the wooden desk. Something inside you snapped and you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking as you came again, trying to yell, but unable to because Jungkook shoved his fingers into your throat, making you almost choke if it wasn’t for your own expertise. An embarrassing amount of liquid poured down his hand and wrist, dripping down your thighs. You clamped your legs shut, burying his hand, hips jerking as the aftershocks rippled through you.

You heard Jungkook swallow loudly, jaw tight. He slowly pulled his fingers out of both holes, strings of bodily fluid following him as he did so. Your shaking knees were barely holding your lower body up, jeans constricting your calves and your upper body way too fucking hot.

You laid back on the wood, trying to catch your breath. Was it a fucking cliché? Probably. You felt Jungkook lift himself off the desk and you closed your eyes, chest heaving. Of course. He was just going to leave you like this, tearing your secret out of you and then leaving to boast about how he turned the head Calculus I TA into a helpless, submissive puddle of goo without even actually fucking you. Why did you even bother–

You suddenly felt the desk creak and snapped your eyes open to Jungkook climbing onto it, straddling your chest, unzipping his pants right in front of your face. His slicked hair was becoming unfurled now, more and more dark strands falling down around his ears. His brow furrowed, eyes so wide and focused you weren’t even sure he was actually looking at you.

“Uh–”

He reached in his black boxer briefs impatiently and pulled out his thick, leaking cock. Your eyes widened and his found yours, glittering with arousal. A smear of pre-cum grazed your cheek as he adjusted his position to push the red, bulbous tip against your lips.

“I want to fuck you, noona, but you have to clean me up,” Jungkook breathed, gently asking you but also trying to greedily push his dick into your mouth.

You could say something, but somehow you concluded you were going to be muffled anyway, so you opened your mouth, tongue snaking out and licking the head. Flat, wide, and all over, coating your tongue with his pre-cum, moaning at his taste. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip, hissing softly as he spread his legs even more, lowering himself slowly into your mouth. You licked around his cock before closing your lips and sucking, growing wet as he thrust his hips into your mouth, slow and steady, eyes closed. You reached up to hold onto his thighs, whimpering as you felt his muscular quads through his pants. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, sliding his cock in a little deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, noona, so fucking sexy, taking my cock like that,” he groaned, reaching down and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His dark hair hung down, framing his face in shadow, making your pussy throb at the image. “Makes me want to fill all your holes up, makes me want to coat you with my cum and see you covered in it, messy and dirty with me.”

You couldn’t say anything so you just whined, nails digging into his covered thighs.

“You want that?” His voice dropped several octaves again. Your skin prickled hotly with every word. “You want me to jack off all over you and leave you a mess covered with my cum?”

You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for friction, now moving your head to suck harder, rubbing the tip fiercely against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck,” he gritted out. He tapped your hand hurriedly, eyelids fluttering. “S-stop, stop.” You whimpered, sadly looking up at him. He chuckled, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

Look here you little shit, you can’t say all that dirty stuff and not expect me to be horny, your eyes were telling him.

“I know, I know,” he purred. “But I want to fuck your pussy and office hours are almost over…”

You glowered at him, but reluctantly unhinged your jaw, opening your lips. He slid out, gasping, hitting you in the chin and getting the front of your sweater wet.

“You’re a jerk,” you muttered as he climbed off you.

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, noona.”

You shook your hair and reached into your backpack, pulling out a condom, only to turn around and see Jungkook pulling one out of his back pocket.

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “You’re prepared.”

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew what I was coming for.”

A muscle in your brow twitched as he tucked his tongue in his cheek, grinning widely at you as he ripped it open and slid it on slowly, rolling it down his thick cock. His voice changed, dipping raspy and low.

“Turn around.”

Part of you wanted to fight, but then you spied the time. You rolled onto your stomach, sighing exaggeratedly as your legs tangled a bit in your jeans. You felt Jungkook’s presence behind you as he bent over your back, hand sliding over your lips and covering your mouth.

“Sigh all you want, noona,” he growled, chuckling as you shivered. “Just don’t scream when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the head press against your puffy pussy lips, pushing in forcefully, expanding your tight little hole as his cock entered you, his moan against your ear, your name dripping with lust. Both of you still mostly clothed, but his cock sliding deep, deep inside you, his teeth on your earlobe. Your walls throbbed around him, squeezing him. He gasped, jutting his hips experimentally into you. A stifled moan sneaked past his fingers, your tongue licking them lightly.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Nice and tight for me, bent over this desk.” He nipped at your ear, whispering softly as he began to fuck you. “What if someone hears you, whimpering for my cock, begging to be fucked?”

Your hands clenched into fists, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him pound you into the wood, deep and slow and far too perfect.

“Noona, what if someone sees you?” His voice like smoke, invading all your thoughts, threatening your dreams, cursing you with the feeling of his lips on your ear and his hips pounding your ass. “Proper, harsh, strict noona turning into a slut for this cock, bent over this desk and humping my hips so you can get this dick deeper inside you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and wiggled your ass against his cock. He thrust his hips harder into you, jerking you forcefully upwards, your thighs smacking against the desk. Light flickered in front of your closed eyelids and you opened them, seeing your phone screen glaring at you. A message from Jimin. Finish already! You struggled to say his name and Jungkook lifted his hand for a moment to hear your shaking breath.

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Time.”

He covered your mouth again. “You’re right,” he grunted, rolling his hips into you, biting back his moans as you clenched around him. The wet, slapping sounds became louder as he changed his angle, fucking you roughly into the table. It pushed your hips up and you clung onto the edge of the desk, moaning around his hand, tongue pressed flat against his palm as he fucked you with reckless abandon, beating a damn indent of the edge of the desk into your thighs. The dull ache was going to lead to a bruise, but you didn’t care, pushing your hips back to meet him. A choked wail vibrated in your throat as you came again, whole body lurching as he sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder, groaning as he came inside you, cock twitching and throbbing against your walls. You felt the condom expand, matched with Jungkook’s hiss as he pumped into you. You pulsed your pussy around him and he detached his mouth, whispering your name against your ear.

“You’re dirty, noona,” he rasped, the words so breathless they made you shiver. “I love it.”

You shakily reached up and peeled his hand from your mouth, gasping as he straightened to hold the condom and pull out of you. Fuck. Oh fuck. You scrambled for your phone, seeing Jimin’s text.

You better rush outta there, noona.

You heard the wet, peeling sound of Jungkook pulling the used condom off gingerly. You turned around, hissing at Jungkook before he threw it in the trash.

“Are you crazy?” you muttered, snatching it from him. “Someone will see.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “What else do I do with it?”

You glared at him and tied it up, grabbing some tissues and wrapping it inside. Then you shoved it in your backpack, along with your laptop, your tablet, the spare condom, and reaching over the desk to unplug your laptop’s AC adaptor so you could shove that in your bag too.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy,” Jungkook marveled behind you.

“Jungkook, we have to get the fuck out of here, so pack your damn dick,” you ordered, yanking your jeans up. Squelch. You sucked in your lower lip in at the cold, uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You zipped your bag and checked around the desk to make sure you took everything. You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your back pocket, turning around to see Jungkook rezipping his pants. Thank God. You might have been tempted if he hadn’t listened to you. Then you remembered the two bits of condom wrapping on the floor and picked those up too, shoving them in your other pocket.

Jungkook smirked at you. “So thorough, noona.”

You scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been in this situation before, but you sure as hell have.

“Stay here for twenty seconds and then leave.”

Jungkook pouted at you. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“But I don’t even have your number.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Jimin. You two are in cahoots anyway.” You popped your head out, looking around. No one. You popped your head back in. “Also, you owe me new panties the next time I see your smug little face, you punk,” you added, tone irate.

He smirked at you; his long dark hair wispy around his playful eyes.

You gave him one last look before you tore your eyes away, rushing through every back stairway to get the hell out of there before someone could realize you just fucked a freshman during office hours, your slopping, torn-up panties reminding you with every step that you really needed Jeon Jungkook to fuck you again.

part ii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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